Ellie's Heroes

Chapter 10

by Technomad

"Well, there's only one thing for it." Homer said. "We have to just drive on through, acting like we've every right to be here." He saw us all looking at him like he'd finally gone 'round the bend, and shrugged. "Look…we're in one of their own vehicles, aren't we? They won't be expecting us to be mad enough to just go sauntering on in, will they?"

Thinking about it, I had to agree with Homer. Audacity had served us well so far; the enemy had been caught badly off-guard by our advent, not expecting us anywhere nearby. If the fighting had been closer-by, they'd have been harder to take by surprise. Right then, though, the alarm hadn't apparently even gone up about our little raid on the bank, and we had the advantage of surprise.

The thought was father to the deed. We lurched out into the stream of traffic, merging on in as though we had every legal right to be where we were. Being in an armoured car helped a lot. The cars on the road were mostly in-town models, and not up to disputing the right-of-way with a vehicle that could crawl up and over them and squash them flat if it came down to it.

Traffic police tried to direct things, their whistles shrilling. We got to a traffic roundabout and saw a sign pointing to the "Fairgrounds," so that was the road we took. Everybody who saw us seemed to be accepting us for one of their own military vehicles on a legitimate errand…the damned fools! I made up my mind to never accept things at face value, particularly in wartime. You never know. After all, if we hadn't been just sitting there, fat, stupid and happy, the invasion might never have taken place.

We could see the flames that had spread into town. Apparently the fire at the refinery had been far bigger than anything they had anticipated when the refinery was built, and had caught some buildings near the refinery. The wind was blowing from the refinery toward Monmouth, and the fire brigades were just overwhelmed.

Right about then, we acquired some company. A car-ful of what had to be enemy MPs came up behind us. They seemed to be trying to wave us down, and since we were in an area that wasn't crawling with people, we were more conspicuous than we'd been out in the middle of traffic. We came to a stop, and one of them jumped out, marching up to us with sublime overconfidence.

He began shouting at us in his incomprehensible language. When we didn't respond in any way, he got angry, strutting up to the side of our armoured car and pounding on it. That did seem to call for a response.

I misdoubt that he expected just what sort of response he had provoked. Before he could react, the hatch nearest him had sprung open, and Homer leaned out, grabbing him and dragging him inside the armoured car. He yelled, but the feel of my pistol muzzle against the side of his head quieted him down instantly. He lay there on the floor, his eyes going wider and wider as he looked from one of us to the next, realising for the first time that he was in the hands of the enemy.

Meanwhile, outside, his friends had been as shocked as he was by his sudden capture. However, they were by no means daunted. They were yelling at us, and one of them drew his pistol and fired at our armoured car. I could hear the bullet going spang off the armour. The damned fool!

"Quick! Stop them before they can send for help!" I snapped, sitting on our captive and forcing him to lie still. Kevin nodded, bringing his machine-gun to bear. Just as they got to their car, where there had to be a radio, he shot it, and them, to pieces with one long burst. "Now, let's get out of here! This place'll be hotter than the refinery real soon now!"

The car lurched to life, and in seconds, we were roaring down the street, heading for the edge of town as fast as we could. We were soon passing through residential neighbourhoods, where the alarum had not yet gone up, and we slowed down slightly, since the streets were not as straight as they'd been in Monmouth proper.

Homer and I were interrogating our prisoner. "You…do you speak English?" snarled Homer, as I kept my pistol jammed against him. "Or Greek? Legete-te ellenika?"

"I speak English. Who are you? You aren't of our people, and the Australians are all locked up out at the fairgrounds!" That last bit earned him a kick. We hadn't forgotten what Kevin had said about how people were being treated in those places, and we all had friends or kin or both in them.

"Never mind who we are!" Homer's voice was low and throbbed with rage. "Right now we're asking the questions, so answer up and keep to the truth if you don't want a nine-millimeter headache! What's your name and rank, scumbag?"

"Captain…Captain Pin. I'm a military policeman. Are you going to kill me?"

"We haven't decided…yet." Homer smiled. No…he showed his teeth. I've seen friendlier smiles on sharks at the aquarium. If he'd smiled at me that way, old friend or no old friend, I'd have been backing away and reaching for a weapon. "You stay quiet and cooperative, and we've no reason to kill you…do we?" Wisely, Captain Pin held very still and kept very quiet.

We were outside the town now, and the flaming refinery could be seen even through the rain. The clouds were lit from underneath by the huge flames, and we could see the enemy fire brigades, struggling to contain the fire. I could have hugged myself with sheer glee. Even if this stunt didn't come off, we'd definitely damaged the enemy's capabilities to wage war, and taken pressure off our lot!

We came up over a rise, and saw the lights of the fairground-cum-prison up ahead. The alarm about us apparently hadn't spread. The guards were walking the perimeter as usual, and the towers were manned, but there was no sign of unusual excitement. We pulled up to the front gate, and some guards came over to investigate us.

The looks of pure surprise on their faces as we gunned them down were utterly priceless. An alarm siren began to howl, and Homer, Lee and I jumped out of the armoured car, RPGs and guns at the ready.

Homer took careful aim, and fired his first RPG (outside of training; he'd fired a good few of them while we were being trained in New Zealand) at the nearest guard tower. Straight and true, it flew toward the tower, exploding and tearing the guard station at the top apart. At this, the other guards began shooting at us, and we took cover, firing back at them.

Meanwhile, Fi and Kevin were not exactly being idle. Fi had started the Piranha up, plowing through the gates as though they didn't even exist, while Kevin used the turret gun to blow up more guard towers. By this time, the people who'd been imprisoned had to know that something unusual was up; they were coming out, staring in shock at us as we slaughtered their tormentors.

Homer blew up another guard tower, then yelled: "You're being set free! Run for it! Go bush! Grab their guns and run!" The quicker-witted prisoners got the idea quickly, cheering and snatching the downed guards' rifles before running through the smashed gates, spreading out into the countryside.

Privately, I didn't think much of their chances. Unlike most of us, they weren't rurals, and a lot of them had no more idea of how to live in the bush than I did about how to sail a sailboat. How could they? Those poor souls had lived their lives in town, and didn't have skills that we took for granted. Even Fi, by this time, had a fair amount of bush-craft.

Even so, it was their call to make. Personally, having tasted enemy hospitality once, I'd rather have killed myself than go through it again. What Kevin had told us had only confirmed my resolve on that point. There were things that were worse than death. If anything, I'd been luckier than he was, even if the RNZAF hadn't cracked us out and I'd ended up facing an enemy firing-squad, or standing on their gallows with their noose about my neck.

The enemy guards were not, to put it bluntly, the best men the other side had. That made sense; no sane enemy commander would waste his top men guarding a prison full of helpless civilians. That would be perfect duty for the chronic foul-ups, the soldiers one wouldn't want to trust near the front lines or doing anything too complicated. After all, what could go wrong with guarding a prison camp, where nothing exciting ever happened?

Well…something exciting certainly had happened, and the guards were just not up to their tasks. I could see quite a few of them throwing down their rifles and running away in all directions. In an abstract way, even while I was shooting at them, I sympathized. They weren't trained for anything like this.

The Piranha roared forward, heading for what had to be the Commandant's offices. The turret swung around, bringing the big main gun to bear, and Kevin fired, and fired, and fired again. The offices exploded, and I could see bodies flying through the air. Kevin had to be having the time of his life. For him, far more than for any of us, this was sweet, sweet revenge.

A hatch opened, and Captain Pin's body tumbled out in a splash of blood. Someone had shot him, and since he wasn't any further use to us, he'd been given the old heave-ho. The armoured car went into reverse, and stopped by us.

Fi opened the hatch. "Anybody want a ride?" We all piled in, and headed out of there as soon as we were in and the hatches buttoned up tightly. And not before time…I could hear what had to be helicopters. The weather was foul, but we'd stirred up more than enough trouble that they'd have choppers in the air, searching for us. The bush was the place where we needed to be, and quickly.

END Chapter 10.