Chapter 51- Dawn of a new day

Florence, Los Angeles

With the alien line breached and the US Air Force owning the sky things began to change rapidly for the human forces intent on recapturing Los Angeles.

When the full weight of the 1st Armored Division echelon could be deployed after breaking out the aliens could not stand the ferocity of the assault against their positions. Their tactic had been to hold the humans in check along carefully sighted lines but once that had been broken they had no secondary positions. Instead of a tactical withdrawal to a better position the arrogant invaders threw their infantry caste reserves supported by Walking Gun in to try to stem the human armored flow but it was too late.

Units of the 101st Airborne had been mixed in with the tank squadrons providing close-in support adding to their already significant firepower. The aggressive paratroopers swarmed over the aliens like locusts.

The invaders had only one option: turn and run.

High above the battle General Daily and General McConville watched the action unfold protected by a trio of Apache Gunships. The escort though seemed unnecessary since the Air Force F16s and F22s had knocked most of the Wedge Ships out of the sky and remaining ones had scattered.

"Okay, Squids are on the run, what next?" McConville asked the theatre commander.

"We don't let them consolidate. No holding back, we go all the way until we break them," Daily answered firmly. "I also want the bridges at Terminal Island relieved as quick as possible."

"Already happening," the airborne commander confirmed. "I sent close air support and they've been resupplied. The Strykers should be there in a few hours."

"Okay, when they get there they hold until light. I do want units moving through the night and everyone in position to take the island at dawn," Daily ordered.

"That'll be cutting it close. The boys are tired," McConville answered cautiously.

"I know that be we can't let the squids regroup. We've got them on the run," the Marine officer declared pounding his fist for emphasis. "No let's grind them up. Mostly though I'm thinking about the next phase."

The squid reinforcements coming?"

"Yes," Daily confirmed. "We need as much time as we can get to get ready for them. Captain Blatchford, get in touch with Washington and give them a Sit Rep. Let them know we'll be ready to receive what we've been talking about."

Terminal Island, LA

"Covering fire!" Lt. Gordon yelled, as others saw the exhausted Marines trying to cross the channel. Mike and the remainder of the team scrambled as best they could down the ladder but progress was slow due to the variety of wounds they carried. A group of aliens appeared to try to stop their crossing. The Marine line on the opposite shore opened up with everything they had driving the infantry caste aliens back into the forest of shipping containers on the edge of the channel. A few alien grenades were half-heartedly launched at the retiring team but none got close.

The returning Marines loaded in as Private Ortega fired up the engine on the boat they'd left and with white water churning behind them they began to cross back over to the relative safety of the human position. For their part, the 2-5 contingent at the Vincent Thomas Bridge maintained a steady rate of fire to keep the aliens at bay while cheering their comrades on.

Reaching land Mike and the others were encouraged on by their comrades to make the dash to safety. One hundred yards from the defensive position Lockett finally collapsed from exhaustion and loss of blood. The team stopped and surrounded him but none had the strength or energy to help their fallen comrade. Instead, a dozen Marines leapt over the barricades and sprinted to help the man. Strong hands lifted Lockett gently up carrying him back while the remainder assisted the rest of the team and covered their return.

LCol Ritchie and Captain Harvel were there to greet them along with several medics including Doc Adukwu despite his own wounds.

"Good to see you back Gunnery Sergeant," the battalion commander declared, pounding Mike on the back.

"Good to be back sir," Mike winced in pain.

"Well done Gunny," Captain Harvel congratulated the man. "You saved our bacon."

"It wasn't just me sir," Mike reminded him, "and we lost some damn good men and one fine woman in the process."

The elation of the moment was checked by the reality of who hadn't made it back.

"Well, their sacrifice won't be forgotten. Neither will what you went through," LCol Ritchie commented. "Get yourselves patched up and get some food. Rest up, you earned it. Relief's on the way so hang tough and we'll get you evac'ed out of here."

Mike wandered blankly away, led by a corpsman. Then he saw Lt. Gordon. The handsome ex-track star had a mixed look of pain and relief. His brown eyes were glassy with emotion. The officer said nothing but came and embraced the Sergeant.

Mike stiffened at first then relaxed, returning the embrace. "You're no widow maker sir," Mike whispered in his ear, "you're a damn good officer."

"Thanks Nantz, that means a lot…but the rest of your team…," Gordon choked out.

"Is on me sir," Mike replied steadily.

"Go get yourself patched up Gunny," Gordon declared regaining control over his emotions as the words sunk in.

"Aye aye sir," Mike responded, snapping off a crisp salute.

The curse was lifted.

Refugee Encampment and Military Command Los Angeles rear area, somewhere outside LA

Casualties had been dropping off for the hospital in the rear area as the military advance moved farther away giving the harried staff a respite. Michele had been busy the whole day which was a good thing. She'd tried to keep busy, to keep her mind off of what might be happening with Mike. She knew worrying wouldn't help and tried not to but couldn't help herself when there was time to spare. So work had become her refuge. Near exhaustion after the pace of casualties Michele knew she needed to go to her home for rest but the thought of it and the demons who'd haunt her thoughts brought a lack of action.

Then she saw a sight that chased away the gloom.

"Father Alexander! Hector!" Michele cried out as she spotted the pair walking towards her. The priest seemed a bit troubled but relaxed. Hector was dirty and appeared to have lost weight. She'd had insinuations from the priest something was up with the boy but didn't know the details. In truth, she didn't want to know with all her worries about Mike. But she'd thought about the idea Mike had shared with her of adopting the boy and had warmed to the idea so seeing him again and well filled her heart with a strange joy. It was as if she knew something terrible had nearly happened to Hector but couldn't articulate it.

Hector broke free and ran to the woman, knocking into her with a massive hug which she returned. The boy held on fiercely and suddenly she knew this was not just a courtesy visit. Something had been going on. Suddenly she became fearful of what it meant.

"Is Mike alive?" Michele asked fearfully.

"I don't know but I pray he is," the priest said quietly, his eyes glassy.

"But…," she said, her voice choking.

"We'll just have to trust God. Hector wanted to see you. He has been going through some difficulties lately." The priest's voice trailed off as the topic made the boy upset so he tactfully changed the course the subject. "I did want to tell you though the attack on the front is going well. We've broken the alien defenses and have them on the run. The bridge Michael has been defending will be relieved shortly and I've been told they will be rotating those troops out first thing in the morning. I wanted you to know. Plus Hector wanted to see you."

"Will you let me know if you hear anything about him or at least when his unit is coming back?" the woman asked both filled with hope and fear for the imminent event. She knew she wouldn't sleep tonight.

"Definitely. I'll also keep trying to get a report but it's hard since radio traffic is pretty full right now and that type of communication isn't allowed," the priest answered, optimistic his friend was alive but not wanting to give the fragile woman a false sense of hope.

The answer satisfied Michele and she seemed to be at peace. "Okay, we'll wait until morning." She paused for a moment, lost in thought. Then her face brightened. "I believe," was all she said but the priest knew she had the same thoughts as him. Turning to Hector her heart warmed for the boy clinging to her side. She'd had her doubts about the adoption thing but suddenly the thought of losing Mike and everything she'd experienced the last few days brought a change in attitude. Not only was she ready for this but she wanted it.

Michele knelt down, hugged the boy again and asked, "So, what's been new with you?"

Instead of recoiling Hector spilled all that had been going on the last few weeks with him, almost as if the recollection had a purging effect. The story the young boy shared took nearly two hours giving Michele much to be distracted about.

Abandoned industrial complex, somewhere outside Military Command Los Angeles Protective Zone, LA

The Military Police swooped down on the Foundry in force. Armored Humvees rolled in securing a perimeter around the area while several transport trucks disgorged MP's and a large number of LAPD officers who had begun to work with them. As the Humvees ringing the site provided over watch with their 50 caliber machine guns the others swarmed through the buildings. Guns and drugs were seized, arrests were made. Warning were given to those wishing to live in this place outside the protection zone who did not seem to be involved in criminal activity but in the end those who wanted to stay were allowed.

As the other MP's searched the various rooms of the Foundry Gwen Langois went back to search the location of her gun battle. Something didn't add up. Why would this woman Maria fight like that over a simple matter of custody? Even kidnapping wasn't worth killing a cop over. So why?

A number of attendants from the Coroner's Office followed her in but she treated it as a crime scene. Before allowing them to begin removing bodies she knelt down besides Raul's still form. The Latino had a look of peace on his face despite the ugly wound in his chest. She remembered him jumping in front of the bullet meant for her. The tough Cajun said a prayer for him and then for herself realizing how easily the tables could have been turned. His was a selfless act of sacrifice that had already jolted the woman out of her cynicism. She'd prided herself on being able to read people but she'd totally missed the change in this man because of her past. She vowed to never make that mistake again.

Gwen felt a surge of emotion and her stomach begin to knot looking at the man and thinking about what he'd done. She was glad no one could see her face since she didn't want to ruin her fearsome reputation. Spontaneously the MP reached down and touched his cold face. "Good bye," she whispered.

Then there was Maria.

The contrast between the two dead people only feet apart was stark. Where Raul had given Maria Rincon had taken, causing all this death and suffering. At least the boy was safe. Now it was time to try to figure out why she did it.

Gwen searched the woman's effects nearby and found what she was looking for. A sheaf of papers was neatly folded inside a leather bag beside Maria's suitcase. The Military Police officer began to read the contents but had to stop several times. What was on the documents caused a chill to come over her. The letters detailed the impending sale of Hector to a group of people who were going to use him for….she couldn't read any further. The idea that people would still participate in stuff like this even during a time of war sickened the experienced officer. This was bigger then the Military Police. She would be putting in a call to the FBI when she got back to her headquarters. She crossed herself and thanked God again that she'd gotten involved. Hector was safe that was all that mattered right now. No one was going harm him. She'd make sure of that. As for the others at the Foundry, well she'd not get her way but they were done.

Taking the papers she needed as evident she turned to the people waiting to clear the bodies. "Okay, we're done here. Tag 'em and bag 'em," she ordered walking from the room.

An orderly moved towards Raul's body causing Gwen to stop mid-stride. "No, not dis one," she declared. "I take care of him myself."

Grabbing a body bag she went to the fallen hero and tenderly began to wrap him in what would become his funeral shroud.

Terminal Island

After Nantz and his team successfully returned to the defensive area the aliens did lay on several attacks but with the new air cover the humans enjoyed the efforts had little success and became half-hearted at best. Then after several hours things suddenly become very quiet just after dark. It seemed as if the aliens have disappeared, melting into the darkness of night. Tension mounted on the line, eyes strain into the dark, overcast night looking for signs of an impending attack while those with Night Optical Devices scanned for signs of a renewed attack.

Then the beleaguered Marines discover why the aliens had gone from their position.

The rumble of vehicles could be heard in the distance. Sporadic cannon and heavy machine gun fire broke the silence of the night. Attack helicopters flying over head cover could be seen in the night sky as the lead elements of the relief column come into view. Elements of the 1st Armored Division, supported by cavalry squadrons from the 101st Airborne pull up to the Vincent Thomas Bridge. Cheers erupted along the line as the remaining Marines greet their overdue relief. Men pour out of both sides and warm greetings were exchanged. The time and cost was forgotten for the moment as those in the defensive positions begin to relax.

Corporal Harris slumped down from the GPMG he'd been manning to sit with his back against a concrete abutment. Ortega and Imlay followed suit and began to let their guard down. They knew Lockett was okay but had to be left at the company aid station due the severity of the wounds so for the moment there seemed little to cause them stress.

"You think this is it?" Ortega asked hopefully, opening up an MRE packet.

"Yea man, for now anyway," Imlay answered.

"So now what?" the Latino Private asked, digging into the food.

"I suspect we'll be shipped back to the rear then the brass will figure out what to do next," Imlay answered.

That seemed to satisfy the man and his face relaxed.

"I can't wait to see Cherise," Harris commented, rubbing his scalp. "Man, that is going to be a sight."

"Your fiancé is fine Harris," Ortega commented.

"Yea, she is," he agreed, closing his eyes and picturing the woman he intended to marry.

Ortega became silent for a moment, deep in thought. Then he blurted out, "Hey, she got a sister?"

"Alejandro man, you take it all!" Imlay laughed.

While the three kibitzed Mike had a less than jocular look on his face. Despite his wounds he redressed himself and began to pack ammo.

Doc, who was still weak but continued to help in the aid station challenged him. "Gunnery Sergeant, what do you think you are doing?" he asked in his thick accent.

"Squids are beat for now and we got help. I'm going back in to get the bodies of my troops back while I still an."

Adukwu knew it was pointless to argue with the man so told Lt. Gordon what the NCO intended to do. The platoon commander came over to investigate.

"I hear you want to go back in and bring the bodies out Gunny," Gordon declared casually but still letting him know he knew what was going on. "What's your plan?"

"I owe it to them to bring them back sir. All of them," he stated firmly, a look of defiance on his face.

The compassionate officer thought about the declaration for a moment. "That makes sense but you're not going in alone. Let's talk to Captain Harvel and see what we can come up with."

Mike's shoulders slumped in relief. In truth he was exhausted and didn't know how to go about it. His usually sharp mind had been overloaded by everything going on so he'd not really had any plan but to go. Gordon was a good man and a good officer. Mike would follow his plan.

Though the company commander questioned the wisdom of the recovery mission LCol Ritchie didn't. As Mike relayed his desire and Lt. Gordon laid out the plan the understanding senior officer merely nodded his head in agreement.

"Grab some support from 1st Armored," Ritchie added once the plan had been laid out. "No sense going on foot. Plus, you can move fast and hit hard if you receive any resistance."

"Thanks sir…for understanding," Mike said, smiling faintly.

"Get it done. But when you get back you and your guys will be the first ones off this place. Choppers are coming in the morning to begin to rotate us to the rear," Ritchie confirmed, returning to his normal gruff manner.

With LCol Ritchie leading the way, Mike was able to secure support for the mission he felt called to. The officer commanding the relief column from the 1st Stryker Brigade Combat Team in fact was eager to lend support when he found out who it was for. Already word had gotten around about who had taken out the alien shield generator so people were eager to help the new heroes. So the Scout Platoon from 6 Squadron of the 1st Cavalry Regiment, who had been acting in a reconnaissance role, volunteered to take Mike, and now Imlay, Harris and Ortega on the mission. Lockett by this point had passed out from his wounds or he would have gone also.

With Abrams tanks from 1st Armored leading them across the bridge the platoon took over once they'd crossed. The M3A3 Bradley AFV's provided not only the speed necessary to accomplish the task but the firepower if confronted. While the three young Marines were spoiling for a fight now that they had the fire support Mike merely wanted to get in, recover the bodies and get out.

There was some light resistance initially but several bursts from the Bradley's 25mm cannon caused the infantry caste aliens to melt into the night. From then on they encountered no alien resistance on the island which was eerie.

Mike didn't care.

Sitting in a turret of the lead armored vehicle as it rumbled through the streets of Terminal Island Mike directed them to the spots where his team members had fallen. Despite the chaos of their mission and how quickly things had happened, the NCO had a surprisingly good recollection of where each had met their end. But then a true leader will not forget those types of things.

Working from the first man fallen to the last, where Santos had sacrificed herself to take out the shield generator each was recovered. At each stop the AFV's would fan out and cover the four Marines as they would go to place the body in a body bag. Each time Ortega began to weep openly for the one who didn't make it. None thought the lesser of him. His were honest, open emotions. Mike became quiet each time, saying a prayer for each before returning to the Bradley to get another.

With Santos' recovery Mike paused longer. There seemed no threat from the aliens so the platoon didn't seem to have to rush. Kneeling beside the Air Force Tech Sergeant's mangled body Mike saw himself in her place. He'd been willing to blow the charge and she'd taken his place. He was going home. She wasn't. Then he thought of her words: you go and marry that pretty woman from the helicopter. He would marry Michele, not just because of Santos' sacrifice, but because he began to desire for a life more than this. Suddenly he became eager for the end of the mission so he could see her, hold her, and tell her he loved her. The willing sacrifice of this unassuming service woman had solidified in his mind something he'd been afraid of: the need for commitment. He would commit and he would commit to Michele.

"Thank Elena," Mike whispered as he zipped her into the body bag. "I'll never forget you."

"You ready to go Gunny?" the platoon commander asked him, not wanting to break the reverence of the moment but also aware of how vulnerable they were. "We've been sitting here a while so should move out."

"Yea, let's get going, we're done here," Mike replied, picking the woman up by himself despite the pain in his shoulder. He'd re-opened the wound, he knew that, but it didn't matter. He owed that to Santos.

Sitting with the body bags of his dead comrades in the back of the Bradley Mike could finally begin to relax. They would all be going home. He would marry Michele. They would have a family. He also knew what he'd name his first daughter: Elena.