Los Angeles defector

Presidential decree

To gain control of the situation in California, the Third Military District dispatched a commissioner to the California Security Command on November 6th, along with the President's decree: "Directing the Security Command to cooperate with the 67th Army under Mark Wayne Clark, to hold the Barona Creek for three days at all costs, any violation will be severely punished under military law."

The platoon leader swaggered into the ground floor of the small building. "Hey! Damn, what a cozy little spot, what a pleasure!"

Seeing that it was the platoon leader, Old Blackskin quickly sat up and shouted to the others on the ground, "Get up, get up. Everyone, get up! You big guys, stop sleeping, quickly get up and welcome the platoon leader's visit." Then he put on a smile, patted the ground next to him and said, "Platoon leader, come over and have a seat, it's still warm here, just like by the heated brick bed."

The platoon leader didn't pay attention to the sleepy ones still wriggling on the ground. He went straight to sit by Old Blackskin against the wall. He took the cigarette Old Blackskin handed him and had it lit by him. "Oh, don't even mention it, it really has a warm feeling, damn, it's almost like by the heated brick bed, isn't it?"

Old Blackskin chuckled, "That's right, didn't lie to you, did I?"

"I say, Old Blackskin, you didn't set this building on fire by yourself, did you?" The platoon leader suddenly stared at Old Blackskin.

Old Blackskin's smile disappeared, and he suddenly became serious. "Platoon leader, don't make such accusations. I've been in the military for over a decade, my loyalty to America and goodwill towards the people, how could that be in question! After all, this is someone's home, even vampires wouldn't burn it down, I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"You! Old Blackskin, if you have enlightenment, then pigs can fly."

"If you don't believe me, ask the brothers, okay?"

The lieutenant glanced at Old Blackskin with a mocking smile and said, "Oh, come on, you didn't burn down my house, no need to swear to me. I'm here to tell you that the military command has ordered us. Our platoon is responsible for the western end of the town. We'll be heading over there to fortify our position."

Old Blackskin's expression tightened, "What is the content of the military command?"

The lieutenant held out three fingers in front of Old Blackskin, "Hold Barona Creek for three days. The President's decree, transferred from the California Security Command to our military headquarters."

After hearing the lieutenant's words, Jason on the side couldn't help but furrow his brow. Any task with a time limit never bodes well, especially when it's the President's 'decree'! From this order, it seems like Los Angeles is completely doomed. Sigh...

The lieutenant extinguished his cigarette, patted his butt, stood up, and added, "By the way, we found all the brothers from the second platoon. Not a single one was left breathing. We cleaned up the battlefield in one go and buried them together. Big Yellowtooth is also dead. Sigh..." He sighed and walked out the door.

As the lieutenant left, Old Blackskin's brow furrowed. Not just for the fate of the second platoon, like Jason, he was also troubled by this 'hold for three days' order. With a time limit in the mission, one couldn't retreat at a critical moment, but had to endure it. He took out a cigarette, lit it for himself, and seeing Jason with a similar expression, couldn't help but ask, "Jason, what are you thinking?"

Jason looked at Brown and the others who hadn't fully woken up yet on the ground, shook his head, and said, "Not thinking about anything."

When we arrived, I saw with my own eyes that all the troops were running, all were retreating. Now the 67th Army is not retreating but stuck here by the Barona Creek, even the President's order has come. What's the point of thinking? They are using the lives of the 67th Army to exchange for the lives of the majority. What is there to think about? It's good to be like Brown and the i***t, well-fed, well-rested, and not worrying about the family. Jason truly envied the three people lying on the ground in front of him.

Old Blackskin was a bit dissatisfied with Jason's response. After a moment of contemplation, he said, "Jason, even though you've only been in the Third Platoon for a day, you're still on board. Nowadays, our fates are tied together. I know you're from military school, but you can't look down on our brothers just because of that. If you have something to say, you need to say it directly."

Jason could guess Old Blackskin's thoughts. Even though they had only interacted for a day, Jason felt he had a good understanding of his platoon leader. Old Blackskin was a cautious person, and it was because of his caution that he would ponder, weigh options, and be frugal. For the 107th Division, for the First Battalion Third Company as a whole, Old Blackskin was a selfish person, a veteran who didn't care about the trivial matters. But for the Third Platoon, he was fortunate, a blessing for them. Jason liked soldiers like him, if he were still an officer.

Jason was reluctant to share his thoughts, partly due to his personality and partly because he didn't want to add pressure to the three men still lying on the ground. It was definitely not a matter of looking down on anyone. Now that Old Blackskin had brought the conversation to this point, it wasn't out of anger, but rather a strong desire to understand Jason's perspective and grasp the crisis that the Third Platoon was about to face. Jason remained silent for a moment and then calmly said, "In this battle, the odds are stacked against us."

"What?" Brown suddenly sat up, but his next words didn't align with Jason's earlier statement. "You went to military school? You really went to military school? Oh my goodness,"

Old Blackskin was almost taken aback by Brown's interjection. "Get lost! Just get lost! Keep rolling as far as you can! Every time we talk about serious matters, you jump in and mess things up, you pig-headed fool." He then turned back to Jason and said, "Jason, please continue."

Jason remained unruffled by Brown's words, showing no reaction. He had heard such remarks countless times during his time in the commando unit, and hearing it for the eight hundred and first time didn't evoke any sense of novelty. He continued speaking.

"When they arrived, I noticed that the defending forces from Los Angeles had already started retreating yesterday. Last night at the station, I paid attention to the markings on the railway. It's only about thirty miles from the station to Los Angeles, and the left flank forces north of Los Angeles are even closer. Without any troops engaged in a stalemate with the vampire legion on the front lines, I estimate they can withdraw completely within two days. What remains are the covering, ambush, and rear-guard units."

Upon hearing this, Big Guy also sat up. He asked in a dazed manner, "We are currently at Barona Creek, hundreds of miles away from Los Angeles. That's a matter to the north, it doesn't concern us, right?"

Brown also chimed in agreement with Big Guy's words, "Yeah, the Lieutenant just said our mission order is for three days. As long as we hold off the vampires for three days, then we just head west and forget about whatever is happening to the north."

Old Blackskin listened attentively, feeling a sense of lamentation in his heart. They all got off at the same train station, yet he hadn't considered any of these details. Like Brown, he was more concerned about the three-day hold order, but since Jason had brought up these points, there must be more to it. Therefore, he remained silent, waiting for Jason to continue unraveling the mystery.

Watching Big Guy, Brown, and Old Blackskin attentively listening and expressing their views, Jason was willing to elaborate further. He decided to grab a charred stick and hastily drew a rough sketch on the ground. Except for the foolish lad who remained disinterested on the ground, the other three quickly gathered around upon seeing this.

"Our mission order is for three days. I reckon that after three days, the troops retreating from the north will likely be the rearguard. I can't determine how far the enemy can pursue or where the front line is. Now, let's talk about the south where we are. How many vampires have landed here? I don't know, so we can only guess. What could be the vampires' purpose in landing from the south? I can only think of two possibilities. One is to move north, cut off our retreat, join forces with the units advancing from Los Angeles to encircle and annihilate our army, maximizing our losses. The other is to move west, assisting the northern attacking forces to threaten Denver from two directions. Regardless of the objective, they will need a significant number of troops, certainly much more than us. Now that the vampire main force has reached Barona Creek and suddenly encountered us, the 67th Army blocking their path, if you were the vampire commander, what would you do?"

Big Guy spoke first: "What can we do? Fight."

Brown gave Big Guy a pat and said, "Everyone knows we have to fight. They're asking how to fight?"

"Well, how would I know? Jason, why don't you continue?"

"If the vampires' goal is to move westward, they can just ignore us and head west along the Barona Creek. We'll have no retreat to the west, the situation to the north is unclear, and we'll be surrounded sooner or later, forcing us to break out. If the vampires' goal is to move northward, their target would be the California Railroad, not us. They are in a hurry, so they need to eliminate us quickly. How to do it the fastest way? Not by a direct confrontation, but by going upstream, downstream, crossing the river at any undefended points, and swiftly cutting through and dividing. Think about it, this morning a squad of vampires crossed the river and tried to take the dock. It's likely that they are more inclined towards a northern advance."

Upon hearing this, Old Blackskin finally took a deep breath and said, "If that's the case, after three days, won't vampires be everywhere around us? Where will we retreat to then?"

Jason dropped the charcoal in his hand, clapped his hands, and added, "Look, the President is worried that our 67th Army might be frightened and unable to hold off the vampire landings, so he even sent a 'handwritten order'." With that said, he sat back against the wall, watching Old Blackskin, Big Guy, and Brown staring at each other in silence.