AL:ICE-9 (7 page)

“Each prop has its own motor in the hub, like the blades on the helicopters,” Sara offered, noticing Jake’s interest, “ALICE tells me these would be about 350 horsepower each. Like everything else around here it can run for weeks on a charge.”

“With over 1000 horsepower, this thing would fly,” Jake commented, as he started to climb aboard for a closer look.

Before they could go any further, Sandy yelled from the jeep, “Jake, ALICE has a call for you!”

With Jake in the lead, they returned to the jeep. Reaching in, Jake hit the communication's system button, “What’s up ALICE?”

“Jake, I have a call from Prosperity for you,” ALICE answered.

“Burt, what’s up?” Jake asked as the light went green and Burt’s face appeared in the display on the dash.

“Sorry to bother you Jake, but we have a real problem here and I know you would want to hear it straight from me. I know you are recuperating from that shootout in Washington and all,” he replied.

“How did you know about that?” Jake asked, completely confused.

“Oh, we watch Sandy’s weekly news updates like clockwork around here, nobody dares miss it, but that’s not why I called.”

“Sounds dire?” Jake replied while tuning to look at Sandy in the back seat.

“Yeah, well this is the call I had hoped never to have to make. We had someone in the patrol run off with guns and supplies,” Burt stated.

“How much did they take?” Jake asked.

“A lot, it was three fella’s, one in the patrol proper and two more in cahoots with him. They loaded up a transport from the depot here and then high tailed it straight to LA. We woulda noticed it sooner, but they were supposed to run them supplies up the line toward Sacramento. We only got suspicious when the first stop along the line called in askin us where they were,” he finished.

“Was anyone hurt?” Jake asked cautiously.

“Na, like I said, everyone thought it was the regular supply run, they even filled out all the proper paperwork. I will say they got a lot of the best stuff Jake, light and heavy weapons, communicators, and even some of those rocket launchers you sent last week. By the way, why did you think we needed rocket launchers?” Burt asked.

“I didn’t Burt, I think if you check, you’ll find your rogue patrolman ordered them,” Jake said dryly, not wanting to offend Burt, but angry all the same.

“Oh,” was all the reply Burt could muster in response.

“Ok, we will take care of this, I suggest you do a little personnel review to be sure we’ve uncovered all the rats. And Burt, don’t worry, we know you had no part in this and did exactly as we requested,” Jake offered to the clearly worried Burt.

With relief visibly displayed on his face, a heartfelt “Thank you!” was his last words.

“Now that Burt is off the line, what can you tell me ALICE?” Jake asked as he and Sara climbed in and headed the jeep back to the beach.

“Once notified, we were able to trace the transport to the LA area. It is in an area once called Pasadena. According to my records, they are in what was once the armory building there. We have disabled the transport, so it is no longer of use, but they have completely off loaded the cargo and are in the process of fortifying the building.”

At that, an image of the building appeared on the display in the dash, Jake could make out the figures setting up machine gun positions on the roof as well as reinforcing the perimeter fencing. At one time, there may have been buildings adjacent to the location. However, those were demolished and cleared away long ago, providing an open area all around the structure.

It never ceased to amaze Jake, the amount of effort some people would go to in nefarious endeavors that they never would attempt in honest labor. Plainly, the work done here and the time it took to plan and execute the heist would have earned a town leadership position anywhere in the civilized zone.

By now, they had reached the beach, Jake pulling up in front of their living quarters.

“Ok, ALICE, it’s time to call in the Odd Squad,” Jake declared, “let’s rendezvous at muster point Charlie and have them bring all the toys. Oh, and Sandy, I have not forgotten about Sandy’s Weekly News. We need to talk when I get back,” Jake added as he got out of the jeep.

Chapter 7

Sara was completely confused. Once they arrived back at the beach, Jake had told ALICE to do something with an “odd squad” and they were to all go to “location Charlie” with “the toys”? She hated when he got so cryptic. As it was, he ushered her inside with no explanations and instructions to suit up in full combat gear, ready to roll in 30 minutes.

As she was dressing, she thought about Burt’s call. Rogue patrol members, as Jake called them, were the worst possible threat. They had better weapons than most, because they were from ALICE stores, and were better trained than the simple outlaws or raiding parties. This was, in actuality, the very first incident like this, but Jake had drilled her on the dangers they presented. She still was not sure what they were going to do about it.

She actually beat Jake out to the jeep, something she attributed to his injury, but not by much. Both carried their helmets, and Sandy and Becky met them there. Sara watched as Jake kissed both on the cheek, telling them to enjoy the time off as it was back to work soon, and then had her get in the jeep with him. With both seated, he headed off the beach and back up to the airstrip.

Watching him kiss the others, Sara knew she generally didn’t object to Jake’s relationships. However, with her sisters and the others, she was starting to feel an odd sense of jealousy towards the ones she privately called the mommy crowd.

She could compete with Becky and Sandy for Jake’s attention, sure that she held the upper hand in that situation. However, Bonnie, Linda, and Kathy all had a connection with him that she did not have. Currently, their lack of interest in him was all that kept everything in check for her. At the moment, she was able to hold off a growing discontent with their relationships.

Once they hit the landing strip, Jake jumped out of the vehicle ahead of Sara, and opened the hatch in the floor of their helicopter. As was typical for most of their helicopters, it held an assortment of rifles and handguns with ammo. He pulled out two belts with holstered sidearms and two spare magazines in a separate pouch. As Sara belted hers on, Jake grabbed a pair of the 5.56 mm rifles they were all very familiar with, and handed her one with two extra magazines for the rifle.

Closing the hatch, he helped her climb aboard, following her in and then gave ALICE the all clear while grabbing the seat next to her. Mimicking Jake’s actions, she pocketed the spare magazines in the pouches along her thighs and then checked the rifle to verify the magazine in the well was full, rifle cocked and on safe and then racked it for the trip. After stowing her rifle, she then did the same check with her sidearm, re-holstering it once she was satisfied.

Once both their helmets were on, ALICE closed the doors and lifted off, swinging back over the beach and then off to the northeast. With no more than 20 minutes in the air, they started descending at what Sara recognized as the old Santa Catalina Island airstrip. Jake once mentioned he had considered using this location as a jumping off point for LA activities.

Rather than pepper him with all the questions rolling around in her head, Sara chose to wait for him to explain. She could see he was talking although she didn’t hear a sound in her helmet, which meant he was talking with ALICE. As the helicopter settled to one side of the airstrip, Jake finally spoke up on the open circuit.

“ALICE, how far out are they?”

“About 20 more minutes,” was her reply.

With that, Jake indicated Sara should head out the open door, so with him in her wake she jumped out and turned to watch him follow.

“Are you sure you’re ok to do this?” she asked, as he was obviously moving slowly.

“I’ll be fine,” was all he offered in return.

After about 15 minutes, Jake pointed to the east. With the magnification in her helmet turned up, she could see one of the heavy transport aircraft approaching. It was the same type of aircraft they had used for their trip to Alaska. She thought she remembered Jake calling it a V-27 Falcon. As it closed on their location, she zoomed back until, at normal magnification, she watched it slow to a stop, and then settle at the end of the airstrip near their helicopter.

Leading her around to the back of the aircraft, Sara stood with Jake and watched as the rear ramp dropped. Standing before them were eight fully combat suited individuals, Joe and Abby identifiable in the center of the group. At that point, Jake stepped forward and announced, “Sara, may I introduce my Cavalry, the Odd Squad!”

----*----

Jake had always known they would need to go into LA at some point. It was the one area, in the southwest, that was the source of 90% of their grief. It was also one large piece of property. Taking out the big players was not Jake’s concern. It was stabilizing the area after that was the issue. Realistically, there was no way they could just go in and occupy it all, once they subdued the troublemakers.

What Jake needed was a small, mobile, quick moving force to hit fast and hard, and then move on. Historically the cavalry was such a force, giving troops a mechanism that
multiplied the fighting value of even the smallest forces. It allowed them to outflank, create surprise and overpower, or to retreat and escape according to the requirements of the moment.

Examples in more modern times, the SAS Mobility Troop, USMC Force Recon, and the US Navy Seals all used small fast vehicles to move quickly and quietly for stealthy operations or come in fast and hard, weapons heavy and packing one hell of a punch. All this was Jake’s inspiration for the Odd Squad.

Once he settled on a vision, he set about picking and choosing the best attributes of the Special Forces units he had worked with in the past or known about. With that vision in mind, he developed a training plan that would test even the best available candidates. He had training environments set up in several of the ALICE locations, but had all personnel involved sworn to secrecy. It was Jake’s experience that, while everyone thought he or she was Special Forces material, so very few actually were.

He had the ALICEs scour the entire internal personnel list of available staff and any known outside resources. From there he reduced it to just the top 20 candidates. They examined everything from physical capabilities, to mental discipline. They wanted people who can work well independently or in a team and they must be a real self-starter. Above all, he wanted people with a “no quit” attitude. Not only do they need to be able to push through an issue, but they should be able to think it through as well.

It was no real surprise to him that Abby and Joe appeared on the list, but what was a shock was the people that were not. None of Jake’s core team qualified for various reasons, all-reasonable judgments in his opinion. There were a couple of Robert’s Texans there, but far fewer than he would have liked.

There were three outsiders, all patrol members that made the top 10. Jake had ALICE immediately initiate recruitment procedures. Thankfully, all that was complete well before the ALICE-4 incident. In fact, Abby and Joe’s teams were in Washington, supporting the recruitment as part of Jake’s final training activities.

The eight individuals standing before Jake and Sara represented the two 4-person teams Jake had assembled and trained as his prototype units. The second half of his master plan was what was behind them.

“Odd Squad, Jake?” was all Sara could say in reply.

“Ok, so when we got the first group together, my initial reaction was that’s the oddest group of people I have ever seen,” he replied.

----*----

Sara had to admit, looking them over from right to left they were a mismatched group. At 6’4”, Joe easily towered over the other seven as the tallest, while the shortest could not have been 5 foot tall with her boots on.

She guessed from their builds, as all had helmets on, that they were about 60/40, with women outnumbering the men, which was a surprise even to her. She would have expected this to be a male dominated combat team.

----*----

“Ok gang, lets unload,” Jake shouted to the group in the plane.

With that, the eight disappeared back into the aircraft and for the first time Jake and Sara could clearly make out the equipment behind the squad.

Each of the squad members climbed onto their own contrivance, and two by two, they started down the ramp, all hovering about two feet off the ramp and then the ground. As they passed Sara and Jake, they turned to line up, four to the right and four to the left of where Jake and Sara stood behind the aircraft. Once stopped in place, they settled on skids, the entire operation completely quiet.

Once everyone was off loaded and in place, it was easy to see they each rode an identical transport, sitting astride in the middle of it, as one would ride a horse. The rider sat behind some form of a tapered shield, while holding on to handle bars to direct the craft.

Each craft was about 12 feet long, front to rear and was sloped to a blunted point at the front. Starting at the nose, you could make out that each held two machineguns, split on the centerline with a third larger barrel placed between them on center. Behind the guns is where the tapered shield started up sharply, stopping just before the riders position. The shield spread wide, wrapping slightly at the sides to protect the legs and was high enough in the center, presenting just a helmeted head when viewed from the front.

The seat area was only large enough for one rider, saddled and padded for comfort, and right behind was a backrest on a box like structure, slightly taller than the shield. The box was as wide as the craft, side-to-side, and continued on for another three feet behind the rider. Behind the box was about eighteen inches of vehicle at the riders seat height and then it abruptly terminated into a squared off rear end.

In the rider area, behind the shield, you could see several controls, screens and gauges, as well as the handlebar controls. There were running boards down each side for the rider’s feet, the boards running all the way to the box behind.

Jake watched as Sara walked over to one and after examining it closely looked up to ask, “Jake this thing looks a lot like those motorcycles you showed me pictures of?”

Jake smiled, remembering the discussion. They were talking about his hobbies and interests in his earlier life before all this. He had been a huge motorcycle fan, riding both street and dirt bikes for most of his teenage and adult life. He nodded and then replied, “Yes, that was part of my inspiration,” he then motioned for Sara to follow him into the aircraft. Climbing the ramp and then going inside, they could see one more of the craft, sitting unclaimed.

Jake walked to one side, and as Sara watch, he reached behind the shield and pressed a button. As Sara watched, the box on this craft started to slide backwards. As it did, exposing a rear seat and more running board until there was enough space for two riders.

Indicating for Sara to take the rear spot, Jake waited until she seated herself before climbing on. Once both were settled in, Jake hit the power button and the craft gently lifted, hovering about the same distance as the others above the aircraft cargo bay floor. Grabbing the handlebars, he gently twisted the right grip, causing the craft to glide forwarded until they were out of the aircraft and centered on the runway between the eight others lining the opening behind the aircraft.

Releasing the grip, which returned to its idle position, the craft stopped and then Jake hit the power, allowing the craft to settle gently to the ground. Climbing off, he indicated for Sara to do the same and then he walked to the rear and opened the lid on the top of the box, while motioning for Sara to look inside.

Looking inside, both could see two deep rows, one on each side, which held several rifles in vertical slots. The center area between the two was a tray like depression, holding pistols, ammo pouches and various other instruments of destruction. Motioning for Sara to step back he pushed another button inside the tray area and the back of the box split into two doors, exposing several drawers and pockets containing various supplies and other equipment.

“Each hover cycle can hold enough supplies and equipment for a month’s excursion in the field,” Jake stated.

“Hover Cycle?” Sara asked.

Jake smiled a bit sheepishly, “Yeah, that’s what I call them. I built them around one of the small cylindrical repulser motors, like the ones we used for the rail gun platforms. No fans or thrusters required they just float in the gravity field. Each can run on a charge for about two to three weeks and all carry four additional charge packs in the rear storage box. We did have to de-tune them though as they were capable of speeds far greater than the riders could endure. There is no inertial dampening on these.”

Moving back to the riders position and motioning for Sara to follow, he continued, “They really operate just like a motorcycle, once they are powered up, you just twist the throttle and steer with the handlebars. The one big difference is these will fly,” he said with a huge smile on his face.

“Fly?” Sara asked.

“Cool, huh!” Jake answered, “Once you are moving, a small pull on the handlebars and it will nose up and you gain altitude, push forward and it goes down. Pull right or left to turn, roll back on the throttle to stop. As long as power is on, it will hover at whatever altitude you stop at and it will never go below two feet off the deck or AGL, which is Above Ground Level. As long as you are in motion, you are good. In theory you can’t crash into the ground but we have, however, proven that it is possible to wreck one in flight,” Jake completed that last part while looking directly at Joe.