Far Cry 5: The Collapse
Chapter 36: Only you can prevent...
It was pushing 2am and there had been no other response to their attack. It was both a relief and a unnerving change to how the cult had operated.
'Of course if the more zealous elements of the cult are at the frontline outposts they are certainly not in charge of those outposts. Those guys that got eaten by Marko had been complaining about that in fact.' Roger thought as he peered down the switchbacks.
He and Joey had pulled overwatch duty both because between Longinus and the Kord that Joey now sat behind all they needed was some night vision gear borrowed from the Delta guys and they could easily hold down the road long enough for help to arrive. The Grey's and the Delta team meanwhile were combing through the dead and their stuff for intel, grim work it was at times but it was essential and had already been fruitful.
It turned out that the commander that he had sent flying over the cliff edge had been the triggerman in the murder of Greg Armstrong. They had at first figured it was one of the local police officers under Chief Jacobs as he had bought the specialized ammo through the department account but the good commander had kept a detailed log book of actions first against the locals before the war and later fights against the Whitetails once hostilities begun.
They hadn't told Grace yet but he knew that while she might at worst bristle ever so slightly at not getting a shot on the man herself it would still give her the all important closure the grim faced woman needed.
'Even if she will likely never admit it.' He thought as he returned his focus back to the quiet roads.
"Roger?" Joey spoke softly as if being too loud would summon the cult.
He turned to her and saw she was holding up a 'Coffee, Instant, Type III' pouch.
"I didn't get a chance to make my coffee earlier, you want to share? It won't be hot but its a vague form of caffeine at least." She offered shaking the coffee pouch.
He nodded. "If you wouldn't mind I would be grateful. This day feels like its dragging on now." he commented as he watched her break out her own camp cup and canteen. He could tell that she had a nearly full canteen as well which brought back his previous ponderings.
"Joey how much water did you drink before you ate?" He asked as she swirled the cup and powdered coffee together.
She paused her stirring before answering. The contents of the cup slowing as they combined. "Nothing. Not a drop and I didn't even feel the least bit dry or dehydrated. You think the Bliss isn't done with us?"
"Yeah. It could be just another part of being a Saint..." He started saying as Joey cut in. "You are the Saint here I am just the juiced up Deputy."
He cocked a wary eyebrow at her. "Oh no with how easily you are able to keep up with me you are a Saint too." The idea made him emit a muffled half-snicker. "Saint Hudson. Patron of shotguns, clay shooters, game bird hunters, and home defenders."
His friend had to stop from bringing the cup to her lips lest she spill it mid drink. "Oh God no..." She muttered between laughs but he didn't and couldn't drop it there. "And Saint Hudson held up the shells up on high and said 'O Lord, bless this Thy buckshot that, with it, Thou mayest blow Thine enemies to tiny bits in Thy mercy.' and the Lord did grin..."
"Oh my God, Roger please stop and drink your coffee!" Joey said trying to suppress her laughter.
He took the offered cup and took a sip before passing it back. It was cold and thin feeling but it was something. Joey and he repeated the back and forth until the cup was empty.
"I just wish I could stop noticing the changes you know?" He said with some concern.
Joey nodded. "I know what you mean and I guess... I guess for you especially you have a lot more to loose then I do. I mean I don't see Earl letting me go because I need oversized gear and uniforms. You on the other hand..."
"Oh Joey trust me, I was already on the ragged edge at the time for the Army. There is literally one parachute system in the Army that can carry my old weight with a minimum combat load. That means outside of my weapon, two belts of ammo, and rations/personal gear I had less than 2 pounds to play with before being technically overweight for the parachute. The other guys especially the smaller lighter guys would carry my ammo load for me until we got on the ground then let me pack it when we jumped. If I had lunch I could be too heavy. Now with as big as I am before adding weapons, ammo, armor, general gear, food especially now that I probably need more than ever. Nothing short of a true cargo parachute will hold my weight, the bureaucrats and bean counters will scream over having to make a accommodation for just one guy regardless of record." He said looking back over the switchbacks.
Joey's gaze lingered on him for a moment before looking back out over the road. "They'll make that accommodation Roger."
He countered instantly without thought. "You greatly underestimate Army bureaucracy. Merit is not the wonder weapon that they show in movies and on the recruiting poster."
She scoffed. "Roger... you can be wrong you know. You have a habit of shaking the order of things just by showing up and when the Army or the CIA or God knows what alphabet agency comes knocking they won't be able to ignore just what you can accomplish and what you have accomplished. You of course seem to be ignorant of this but its easy to see where I was usually standing. If you need an example, I give you the current state of things." She said gesturing to the radar site and beyond.
He sighed as her words matched in his inner voices words to him. "I... I guess." He managed.
"Remember Roger I do the people stuff better than you do. You on the other hand do the math and shooting things at extreme ranges well. That's why we were friends for so long." She continued as something caught her attention in the distance and she brought up her night vision.
He mirrored her before getting one last word in. "Then we started dating and you learned that I am also amazing in bed." Joey only smiled in reply as she noted not something moving in the distance but a soft unnatural buzzing on wind.
"That's no fly... a drone maybe?" She offered.
"If it is its a big ass drone." He said as he reached for his radio. "Black Reaper to all units be advised we are hearing what could be a large drone. Nature unknown."
A moment later his father came back. "Copy Black Reaper. I will advise Nick to double time the fuel and ammo reload and be ready to come back on station. Keep us posted."
He strained his eyes through the night vision goggles trying to pick out anything small but at a certain distance the goggles just didn't offer fine enough detail.
"Could the cult be arming drones?" Joey asked as the buzzing was ever so slowly getting louder.
The idea wasn't without merit especially if they were using really big drones but he wasn't sure if commercial cargo drones could handle the recoil of any sort of automatic weapon and then there was aiming the thing. The military was at least looking at such solutions but it was early tech to say the least.
At that moment the twin ideas of a drone armed with a hot wired RPG-7 or a C4 charge or Claymore mine popped into his head and filled him with a level of dread with a thin thread of fear.
"I really hope this isn't the case Joey because there are some scary things a inventive person with a drone could do." He finally said.
.
"Sir I don't believe it but I think that is Deputy Rook and Hudson!" The young man at the drone controls zoomed in on the figures.
Another older man looked over his shoulder tiredly. The events at the radar site had drug him and everyone not on the night watch out of their slumber and now they were getting their first look at what might be happening.
"Well I'll be damned. They're alive, and Goddamn Rook's gotten big." He said before turning to his operator. "Got the battery to get over there?" He queried.
The drone operator glanced at the yellow battery indicator just as it turned red. "No sir not after the nightly patrol at this point. Need to bring it back and get it on the charger."
"Ok then bring the bird home. I think I know of a place where we can guide them to without giving up the camp. Just in case." The old man said before moving to return to his tent. Tomorrow would be busy after all if everything looked like it did on the surface.
.
Miles away Jacob sat at his desk as he fumed in the darkness of his quarters. The loyal men he had lost tonight, his entire fixed wing air force, the last ditch missile... the butchers bill tonight had honestly made even the Lumber Mill seem cheap, even petty. Fools died at the Mill but the men at radar site were the bulk of his combat veterans. Now he had at best fifty men he could trust that could be expected to out fight the less experienced but far more numerous cult loyalists.
'Cult Loyalists... how have things changed so quickly?' He wondered. Now more than ever since he was living on the streets of Rome, Georgia with nothing besides the clothes on his back did he feel more lost.
Everything he had done up to this moment had ultimately ended in failure: Failing to restrain his younger brothers wilder ideas and the corrupting power they invited, maintaining discipline in his own forces, defending against the Resistance, and even eliminating the Whitetails.
He pulled out of his jacket pocket the music box that was key to his 'classical conditioning' plan.
With this he had struck terror into the Whitetails and had turned them into a virtually ineffective fighting force too worried about keeping his conditioned hunters out of their mist. But that was his own flaw at play wasn't it?
He had lost sight, gotten fancy, grew too attached to a shiny bauble... that he could change. He set the music box near a picture of his family and mentally wrote it off as just another mistake, a... minor one maybe but ultimately still a mistake.
"Now what do I do? Fight? Surrender?" He said softly into the darkness.
'Could he surrender? What would that achieve? It would just be another failure he would have to live with and then there was the fact that the loyalists in his forces would make it pointless anyway. It wouldn't end the war against the Resistance as they would go ahead and just march blindly toward their deaths with his brother's title on their lips.' He thought as he walked back to his bed to at least try and finish getting some sleep.
As his head hit the pillow his mind spun up ever faster, now free of having to maintain anything past the most basic biological functions it reached for thoughts and concepts that he might now otherwise consider.
'We have a few pickups and three helicopters. So now I can justify just having patrols start marching everywhere. Marching... yeah that could solve a few problems. Back to basics. Take a good chunk of the remaining men at the silo maybe 200 maybe even 300 have them march to the base of the switchbacks.'
His eyes widened as he sat back up in bed his thoughts racing.
'The loyalists were already likely chomping at the bit to retake the radar site tonight. Then they will get a chance to do just that. They march up the mountain while a few of our remaining gun trucks deploy from the Ranger station to the western road and make sure the Resistance can't rush their own vehicles unhindered to the mountain base. Then once we know the radar site is fully engaged I can send my men? No. Send some brave faithful volunteers to ride fast and low and come up from the south of the site and land behind their lines in the choppers.'
If he lost even half of the infantry that would benefit him more than keeping them around, and if they retook the radar site he might be able to finish the missile somehow. He cursed himself for not asking for more details on what the 'machining error' was but still at some point they would just have to jury rig the missile and get it launched sooner rather than later. The loyalists might prove to be a issue at the moment but if the missile got launched then he could deal with whatever else came afterwards.
'Maybe even just retaking territory will be enough to bring them back into line. Nice thought not realistic though. After that... we wait and dig in deep. The Ranger Station and animal center we can fortified more. Cut down trees, roll boulders, sharpen sticks anything at all. If we do that I can let the lemmings provoke Rook into attacking our prepared positions.' He thought as sleep started to come over him. However one last thought came to the forefront.
'The Special Forces up at the radar site mean that the outside world knows what is going on here and its only a matter of time before the hammer comes down on us. We are dead. But we will not go silently and we will not go cheaply. I will hold the line for as long as I can Joseph but the least I can ask for is to choose how my men and I go out.'
.
After a hour of listening for the return of the buzzing drone they finally stood down. Two of the Grey's took over the watch for them. One manning the Kord and the other with some minor reservations Longinus.
The stand down meant that save for a token guard made up of the Grey's the two Deputies and the Delta team would be getting some sleep for the coming mornings operations whatever they may end up being. Marcus had Mack unpack the camo net he had given them and conceal their position before ordering them to go to sleep.
The best sleeping accommodations they could find was a clean corner of the warehouse on a bed made out of a doubled up stack of loaded 81mm mortar ammo boxes and their packs for crude pillows. Still besides the hard, lumpy, and explosive laden bed combined with the smell of blood, burnt phosphorus, gunpowder, and the general 'burning structure' aroma coming from the smoking embers of the two receiver towers it wasn't anything that a long day of activity and combat couldn't paper over mostly.
"Roger, you asleep?" Joey questioned as she turned to face him.
"Nope still trying to settle down. What's up?" He fired back.
"What are you plotting for tomorrow? I'm thinking and can't decide if splitting up and hitting both the Ranger Station and F.A.N.G center is a good idea or not." She offered trying to work her developing sense of strategy.
He continued to stare up at the green painted steel ceiling in thought as he traced the possible attack routes by land, air, and if need be by sea.
'Stealth approach would be to motor up the river and then approach on foot with suppressed weapons but at this point I can expect large garrisons which make quietly clearing the outposts unlikely thus you have to have heavier units or air support on stand by. Loud is grabbing Drubman's tank and finding a place to shell either outpost then rolling infantry in. Problem is that there only one tank and the terrain south of the outposts is lower than either post so positioning in a place that can effectively cover both is difficult if not impossible leaving one outpost unengaged or engaged with ground attackers with only the hope of air support being pulled in two directions. I could try to use the Shilka on the other outpost but its too damned easy for ammo to become a issue to really use it outside of AA or last ditch support.'
He worked his jaw side to side as Joey waited for an answer or sleep, whichever came first.
'Artillery is something I would want to only use to stop outside reinforcements otherwise the collateral damage is higher than I would prefer... unless I draw them out on purpose. Ok we take the Ranger Station, send up a flaming 'fuck you' to piss off the cult's more zealous members into another blind charge, then hit them while they maneuver likely northward to counter attack us. At that point I have control of where to engage them either before the North Park bridge entrance, on the bridge likely destroying it and hindering our movement somewhat, or after the bridge. In any case I hit them with either artillery and/or air strike. Given the openness of the area they would have little to no effective cover and we can hit them with as much high explosive and shrapnel as we wish. The question what is Jacob going to do? The fact that besides the air support we have seen no reaction from him during or after the attack thus far so he is clearly holding back his forces. His has lost at least half his holdings and is dealing with increasing internal issues so maybe what is happening is his ability to respond is finally being effected.' He thought before speaking.
"No more splitting up. If anything we stay concentrated and focused so as to invite Jacob's forces to hopefully blindly charge again only this time we will be able to then hit them with air and artillery given the terrain and distance from both Jacob's base and Joseph's island. I don't want another Lumber Mill where we become over extended." As he finished he wrapped a massive arm around Joey and drew her to him.
"I came way too close to loosing you there and I don't like making the same mistake twice." He said softly.
He got a smile in return. "Well at least I know you care, but honestly you know what I was really worried about then?" She paused for a moment before answering her own question. "Mack and the Cougars. Dying on duty as grim as it is to think about is part of the risk I knowingly took when I took the oath and the badge. Mack and the rest are still kids, very dangerous kids but kids still. They shouldn't have to die because I lead them into a battle that went south."
"They didn't die though. Wounded and scared? Yes but none with crippling injuries and you were the one to lead them through that. To pull them back to defensive positions when it looked like things were falling apart. You gave Mack and Jose the room to come up with a solution and try it, which is something that more than a few leaders have trouble doing. They want to be in control of as much as they can especially when things are falling apart or for some leaders any idea that isn't theirs must be bad and not worth trying." He advised.
Joey nodded in agreement and moved in closer. "I guess I am the one who needs to listen to her underlings still.
"Underling?" He questioned.
"I am still the senior deputy unless you have unlocked a form of time travel already. So I will listen to your advice and not go off on my own attacks." She ended on a large yawn.
Anymore talk of plans died with that as they let their shared warmth finally send them to sleep.
.
The clear night before had turned out to be deceptive as shortly before dawn raging dark grey almost black storm clouds raced over the mountains, the roar of thunder and flash of lightening proclaiming their coming. Before it became too dangerous to fly in the strong gusts the Chinook returned with a large well equipped garrison force that took over for the weary Grey's and return all but Marcus back to Fall's End.
Marcus stood in the radar tower looking over the landscape below with a hard gaze. The lack of reaction from Jacob bothered him greatly because it showed that unlike John or Rachel, Jacob could control at least himself and by extension at least in theory his forces.
Control meant coordinated counter strikes which were always more dangerous than the wild emotionally driven attacks like they saw with John outside his bunker or Rachel at the final battle of the Jail. Both times the Heralds lost their cool, leaned on their superior numbers alone to try and carry the day and their ignorance of either the local terrain or prepared defenses ruined their forces.
'Ok Jacob what will you do next? We wrecked a lot of vehicles at the Mill and your air force is gone. You might have a few choppers which is a quick call to the guy manning the Oracle to confirm so that means your ability to rapidly move large forces has been hampered if not removed.' He thought as he tore himself away from the window and back to his main task of the last few hours of reading through the mass of paperwork and personal letters.
It was... insightful to say the least. On the official stuff the men here were loyal professionals virtually all of them ex-military with more than a few ex-special forces mostly from Europe but the odd Russian or Canadian was up here too. Even found one ex-Delta Guy that he had at least recognized the name of and was amazed to see was still alive until last night.
The personal stuff: Notes sent to other men on base so as to avoid speaking face to face, unsent letters to home in a rainbow of languages, and most importantly personal journals. These things painted a radically different picture than what he could have thought without them.
There were groups of men mostly sorted roughly by nationality or background that were seriously planning to try and leave Hope County by climbing the surrounding mountains. It sounded simple but the section of the Rocky Mountains that surrounded Hope County was untouched land, as wild as God himself could make. They would have to climb down and up near vertical cliffs and mountainsides with minimal chances to resupply.
Water was easy to find in the snow melt fed streams and creeks but game and plant life was sparse so even so much as making a fire to melt more snow or warm up food was near impossible unless you brought fuel with you. Fuel you have to haul up and down at least six different 15,000 plus foot peaks before you got close to anything resembling a road and then having to follow said road until finding civilization of some kind.
The area hadn't been fully surveyed until the late 1950's when the USGS bought up some old Korean War milsurp helicopters to bring supplies and transport men around the area. To climb your way out of Hope County was near impossible hence why the railroad had first laid track through the Ancient Bison Tunnel to the southeast and dug out another rail tunnel in the southwest of the county near John's silo. Time and progress would see both tunnels converted to handle road traffic and new tunnels dug and blasted to handle the increase in rail traffic but all of them served as the sole means of entering and exiting the county by ground without braving the surrounding terrain.
But these men were desperate enough to consider it or at least ignorant and desperate enough to think they could pull it off. The unsent letters were where he had to stop and walk away for a bit to clear his own head, virtually all of them where to loved ones back home. Letter after letter they all seemed to have one theme: 'I have made a mistake and I want to go home, but I don't know if I can even get out of here to do so.'.
'Maybe if we could have corner one or two of them at a time we could talk them into surrendering, too many at once and their combined pride will drive a mob mentality to stand and fight. But even with less than 200 of them here on this outpost that doesn't solve the problems of holding and caring for them until we can get regular help from the outside world. For once I feel sorry for these guys.' He thought as his radio came to life.
"Road Overwatch to Grey Reaper. We have eyes on a large commercial or industrial aerial drone with some sort of paper or cloth as cargo coming this way fast from the north, please advise."
He grabbed his radio as he moved to go downstairs to the exit. "Hold your fire. Are there any cult markings or obvious weapons?"
"Negative we can now see a camera and a clamp of some kind so the paper or whatever is the only cargo. The drone is a grey eight rotor model... Jesus Christ this thing is huge." His guards said as he stepped outside.
The rain was slowly getting heavier with every minute and was trying to soak its way past his armor but all of that was ignorable as he broke into jog to reach the guard post.
From behind he could hear Captain Foley with as usual Martin and Ramirez following close behind all of them clearly having just woken up as they raced to catch up with him.
"Colonel! Is the cult attacking finally?" Foley asked trying to not sound out of breath.
"Neg. Looks like some sort of industrial drone is coming to give us some sort of message, doesn't seem to be cult marked. I'm hoping for locals but I can't think of who would have the money to drop on what appears to be a massive top of the line drone like this." He replied as out of the warehouse came Roger and Joey racing.
They beat him and the Delta guys getting to the guard post they had occupied a few hours ago and had once more taken up their weapons.
"Hold your fire you two I think this might not be a cult drone." He ordered and they relaxed somewhat.
The buzzing matched that what the Deputies had heard last night and soon the massive drone was upon them.
It was nearly six feet in diameter not including the width of the eight massive rotors and despite its spindly construction it was clear that this was meant to insure it could carry as much weight as fast and as far as possible.
This time it only carried a camera on a gimble and a grappling claw that held a map of the area.
The craft flew carefully in front of Roger the camera gesturing like one would with their eyes to take the map out of the drones grasp.
"Grab it Roger and lets see what we are dealing with." He ordered as his son obeyed.
After a brief moment Roger handed it over him. "Looks like whoever is flying this thing..." He gestured to the hovering drone. "Wants us to meet them at Bo Adams's cave. He never struck me as a drone driver or owner."
Joey answered before he could. "Bo's been dead for over a year now. Murdered. Took two loads of birdshot to his knees at close range and then was apparently attacked by wolves. Didn't have enough evidence otherwise to ID a killer but it was pretty clear that it was cult related."
The drone dipped its forward end briefly in a nod like gesture.
The map was clear in where they wanted to meet but offered no other detail besides being one of the maps sold at the Whitetail Visitors Center.
"Ok then we will meet you today at Bo's Cave. If you are with the cult then know that we are predisposed to shooting first and asking questions never unless you make it very clear that you wish for otherwise. If you are survivors then again state your intentions clearly. We have food, medical supplies and personnel, and if you need weapons, ammo, or weapons maintenance we can provide that for you. If you want out of this area know that Fall's End has been secured for quite sometime now and we can get you there safely away from the cult." Marcus stated watching the camera now nod enthusiastically before the drone flew away to the north now fighting the increasing gusts of wind as the storm worsened.
Roger turned to him. "Dad you have been up too long to reasonably go marching all over the place. Let me and Joey handle this."
"Major we will come with you. Local garrison can handle things here and you sir can get some sleep." The Captain stated nodding at him at the appropriate moment.
Sleep sounded pretty damn good right now.
"Ok Roger, Captain, you guys go and figure out what is going on." He ordered before adding. "Oh in case if it does need to be said, go fully armed."
.
"Roger for the record this is a very bad idea." Joey told him as she tightened her seat belt. She was seated in the passenger seat behind him. On the other side of the SCUD truck in the secondary cab Foley and Ramirez were seated with the rest of the Delta team riding between and slightly behind them in front of the incomplete missile fuselage held in a sort of basket made from a cargo net with a plastic tarp over the men to give them some reprieve from the hard rain.
The idea was to first take care of some house cleaning in the form of taking the last missile part to Fall's End for safe keeping and picking up his 6x6 and riding that to the trail head that would take them to Bo's Cave.
Thinking of Bo Adams was more unpleasant than the feat of driving prowess he was about to perform by far. The man wasn't mean or unsociable as he remembered him but he was like a watered down mix of Zip and Jacob. Always trying to push his idea of working with nature so it could provide for you.
It wasn't a bad idea but he didn't fully agree either. To boot the man was naturally pushy and Roger wasn't one to be pushed so he avoided the man where possible. Hearing the dot com stock broker turn loner/survivalist had died the way he did brought no joy though, he didn't deserve such a gory death different opinions be damned.
He cleared his head as he once more tried to visualize what in God's good name he was about to do now.
The first half of the trip down the mountain road should be pretty easy, but it was after the first of three bridges that the turns truly get tight and the bend between the second and third bridge wasn't a tight turn but had steep rocks on either side that if he hit it wrong he could tip the rig.
He shifted the truck into drive and levered the transfer boxes on the 8x8 into low range. He picked up his radio for the sake of everyone riding. "Ok guys we are going low and slow for once. I'll save the stunt driving for the trip up to the trail head."
He glanced over to the other cab and could see Foley check his seat belt again and Ramirez was making the sign of the cross and saying a prayer. In the net the men were actively rearranging themselves to be better able to hang on. "I guess they remember Kyrgyzstan." He commented as he started down the road.
"Uh... what happened in Kyrgyzstan?" Joey asked as the truck now dipped down toward the first switchback.
"Short non-classified version. Chinese guy steals Russian missile to sell the tech to a Saudi prince to cover his gambling debt. Same guy was poking around Afghanistan trying to find a contact to sell him whatever advanced American weapons or tech we gave the government. Anyway Russian's get their missile back but not the sixteen wheel drive missile carrier. We kill the guy, his family, and steal all the records of his dealings and had to drive said missile carrier about 4,000 kilometers to Volgograd where we would return the truck that we just so happened to find and the Russian government would sadly forget to thank or publicly identify the PMC driving said truck before they left for Athens." He happily recalled as he swung the long truck around the turn calmly.
Joey was testing the crush resistance of the armrest as she could feel the tail end of the truck slide out on the muddy road just a touch before recovering. "4,000 clicks!" She exclaimed.
The truck picked up speed as Roger got more confident in how the truck was handling on the road. "Yes good thing that we didn't have the missile aboard. We had not just living space but a shit load of space for barrels and jerry cans of diesel. Because that big slow motherfucker only went at 45 km/h at best and then add in I was actively off roading hence the guys reaction."
True to his word he found that balance of speed and control even as the tail end of the truck kept wanting to whip around. It was right after the first bridge that Joey found herself relaxing just a bit. This act must have displeased whatever powers were at work as the storm intensified further.
Trees whipped violently and the mountainsides now had torrents of water roaring down their sides. Thunder and lightening only added to the feeling that they had upset the natural order of things by daring to drive down this road as they crawled past the second bridge.
"Ok this is where things get interesting..." She heard Roger say as he focused on keeping the truck on the suddenly claustrophobic road. Foley's voice over the radio nearly scared her out of her skin. "MAJOR! WE GOT ROCKS! LEFT SIDE!"
Sure enough several boulders each at least as tall as their truck were falling down towards from the mountain on their left coming at them. Roger didn't say anything save for the roar of the massive diesel engine jerking them forward toward the third bridge. As they surged forward away from the falling rocks the truck started to run up the right side of the narrow valley and lean dangerously on its left side.
The men in the cargo net held on for dear life as they felt the right side wheels of the 8x8 leave the ground and freely fling mud over their heads as they approached the last bridge.
"Roger! We are going to roll!" She warned more out of instinct than sense as she could see the road top of the bridge come ever closer to her window.
Roger for his role put everything into turning the steering wheel left to land the truck before they past its tipping point. He silently prayed as every fiber of his being was focused on maneuvering the rig down the only route that would give them a chance to do that without whipping everyone inside and outside into a paste.
By the blessing of some Soviet era factory worker the steering system of the truck held up to getting the wheels turned to the left enough to drive off of the bridge and into the raging creek below. The left front corner of the cab slammed into the gravel bed of the creek bouncing it upwards and allowing the right side of the truck to catch up only for the entire front end to slam down on both sides.
"Good news! We are not tipping! Bad news, I see big fucking rocks following us down the creek!" He finally called out as he hazarded a glance at the men in the cargo net. Everyone was still there clutching to the net and bracing against whatever part of the truck they could reach.
'Ok we are not dead yet.' He thought as he pressed the gas pedal as far as it would go and used the steep run of the creek to build up the speed needed to inch ahead of the boulder.
"Road up ahead!" Joey called as they didn't slow down.
"Next one! Next one! The boulder is still too close to make the turn!" He said as could now see through the rain the next place where the creek ran across the tail end of the service road that lead up to the switch backs. It was far more open and muddy which would be perfect so long as they didn't sink before they could move out of the path of the boulder still filling a uncomfortable amount of his mirrors.
"Hold on! We are going to drift!" He warned for what good it would do as he cranked the wheel hard right and let the heavy tail end slide in the muddy shallows until the tires finally found the coarse gravel of the road to grip and wrenched the truck forward now perpendicular to the boulder that now stopped on the other side the road as the resistance of the mud slowed it down.
Now on more or less level ground he stopped the rig and popped open his right hand window to get a better look at the rest of the men. "Ok who's dead?!" He called.
Martin was the first to meet his worried gaze and smiled. "Best roller coaster ride of my life. Worst driving job of yours and yes sir I do mean worse than Kyrgyzstan. Can we really try not to do that again?" He said before adding a mildly sarcastic. "Sir?"
Foley and Ramirez popped their windows as well with the latter chiming in. "No problem Martin lets just send a PSA to the bad guys of the world. 'Please don't steal or use TEL trucks for nefarious purposes! We hate when we have to drive them after killing you guys.'... or something to that effect."
The gathered fighters had relaxing laugh as everyone buttoned up once more for the easier part of their drive.
"Roger... seriously just answer me this." Joey asked as they started off again. "Are all Delta Force guys as unhinged as you or did your particular brand of madness rub off on them?"
He only shrugged. "Being unhinged is... just a part of our line of work. That said I guess I do encourage more... interesting solutions in my men. That's why I have Foley as Captain. He fills in most of the time for a sanity check like what you do for me personally. That said some of the stuff he has suggested over the years sometimes makes me wonder just what goes on behind that standard issue scowl of his."
.
The rest of the trip was blessedly smooth with the rain stopping for a bit the further south they went. It was odd parking the missile truck behind the General Store and crossing the street to the Spread Eagle to pickup his own truck now parked beside the Widowmaker.
The town seemed to have gained a new level of life now that he had a moment to look around during day time hours. A few children stopped their games to gawk at the massive 8x8 truck and its cargo. In the streets people bustled as patrols came in and fresh ones headed out. Hunting parties came back with game and brought them to the local butcher shop who was probably the single busiest person after Mary May and Casey.
In all of this a elderly couple slowly strolled down the street hand in hand simply enjoying the break in the rain and acting as a symbol of stark contrast to the local militarization of everything else around them. He and Joey tipped their hats as they passed them on their way to his truck.
'Life will get back to... well not normal... but something close to normal and that will in due time become the new normal. Time to go back out and make that happen.' He thought as he brought the truck around to let the Delta guys load up.
Out of the Spread Eagle Grace came out rifle in hand and stepped up on the passenger step to bring her up to the cab.
"Roger you heading back out?" She asked.
He nodded. "Yeah we think we are going to make contact with another group of survivors or they could be Jacob's guys trying to ambush us. So you feel up for something besides babysitting some nukes? How about Dmitri?"
"Sure Roger. As for Dmitri he is helping the artillery guys do maintenance on that big Ruskie SPG since your Dad and his guys are probably still catching up on sleep beside Casey of course, he is fighting the sleep the old fashioned Navy way." The sniper replied getting a slightly confused look from Joey as Roger laughed.
Seeing his partners confusion he explained. "Coffee Joey, lots of coffee likely instant given our limited supplies of the real stuff. He would save that for others while he makes do with the stuff not even fit for being put into our rations. Ok Grace load up."
.
Grace lept off and marched off to the back of the truck. "Hey Captain, the Major is letting me tag along you boys don't mind just a regular grunt joining you high speed operator types?" She said with a touch of humor as she pulled herself up into the back of the truck.
Foley was surprised by her appearance but nodded confidently. "If every grunt could shoot like you I would be more than happy to have any of them join us. Major give you a brief?"
She shrugged as she answered. "Just the basics. Go meet up with a local group that could be survivors or it could be an ambush. Sounds just like the shit I had to do in Afghanistan."
Foley nodded in agreement. "That pretty much sums it up. Roger and Joey heard a drone after the attack from their guard post last night. It goes away until this morning when it comes back and delivers a map with a meeting spot marked on it. Some place called Bo's Cave, know it?"
"Yeah Bo Adams. Stock broker who made it big in the dot com bubble then at least as the agreed upon story goes. His wife divorces him, takes the kids, and then tried to get him killed to get his money. He gets attacked but survives, so he realizes that he needs to change his ways and take on a lower profile. First tried to live in Canada but got in trouble with the local government where he was living about his solar panels or something like that. So he moves south to here in Hope County. Buys a plot of undeveloped land and taught himself bushcraft and survival skills all bank rolled by his stock earnings, lived in this cave we are heading too with as little electronics as possible to avoid old problems." She said before looking out the back of the moving truck.
"He went off the deep end a few times, and tried to push his "living off of nature" stuff a bit too hard at times. So he wasn't the most accepted guy around but we would still see him at the major community events and such. From what Joey told me he was found shot in the knees then torn up by wolves over a year ago. I wonder if he ever fixed his will to make sure his kids got his money instead of his ex-wife." She mused.
"Sounds like the cult has been killing well before this war." Foley commented.
Grace was quiet but for once felt like talking a little more. "Yeah... yeah they have. Casey told me this morning they found the triggerman who killed my pops and tried to murder me too just... a month... month and a half ago. Roger punted the son of bitch right off the cliff."
Ramirez decided to chime in. "Well Sargent at least he didn't get away and the Major got some good sounding info out of him before he pulled a 'Commando' move on him."
Martin scoffed. "'Commando'? Dude that was a '300' Spartan kick, one liner and everything. If the Major had hung him by his leg and then let him go even without the whole 'I lied.' quote then you would have a leg to stand on."
Foley was about to shut them both up when he heard Grace giggle at their antics. "Oh man. Sorry that was embarrassing. I missed this kind of shit shooting from the service. Its a lot more natural to deal with than even being back home dealing with civilians, especially tourists."
The Captain nodded. "Yeah that's one reason I stay in, I am what I am and I know I am not really a good fit for anything outside a soldiers life." He gestured to the rest of the men. "Besides someone has to make sure these kids remember to wipe their asses, eat their MREs, and do their homework before getting shot at." He said with a smile.
.
The trip back north put them back into the rain moving through the county but it was now no more than a slow soaking rain. They had stash his truck in a thicket of trees before beginning their march through the wood covered trail that would eventually take them to Bo's Cave.
Roger was on point and setting a slow stalking pace as they picked through the mud and brush. Around them deer and elk would leap away at their coming along the assorted of smaller game critters, giving him a brief moment when he wondered if they could run into another 'Marko' considering how much Bliss is now in the environment.
'Giant attack squirrels, prehistoric sized beavers, uparmored deer. What wonders and horrors will we see after the war is over? At least the community will be able to rebuild off of its new dangerous game hunting.' He wondered as they came to a small rocky plateau in the forest.
He signaled with a raise fist to stop as he listened to the forest. The animals even the birds were gone or silent but he could hear footsteps and the breaking of saplings.
"Cover! Joey you join Martins team on the right flank. Grace, Foley, on me!" He said in a horse whisper as he moved for the largest rock on the left flank and readied his Kord. On the other flank Martin set up his Mk 48 machine gun allowing for crossing fields of suppressive fire in their forward arc.
The center of their line was made up of the other team members finding rocks or logs to take cover with Grace being the slimmest person she had found a convenient stump that she fit behind dead in the center.
To their front the mountain had a rocky outcrop that jutted out above the plateau before the forest beyond it rose sharply for a time before thickening greatly, giving the owners of the foot steps the higher ground and cover until they were all but on top of them. However the trees closer to the outcrop were mostly younger and smaller leading to less durable cover save for a few of the slightly thicker trees that would still be punched through by the Kord if needed.
"This way! I think the Judges have found game!" A voice from the brush ahead called.
'Oh shit, a hunting party just our fucking luck.' He thought as a great white wolf with a blazing red cross painted on its face appeared at the top of the rise and howled.
"Go away, go away, go the fuck away..." He muttered not daring to move lest it draw the wolfs attention.
The first was joined by two more flanking it and three more jogged past them and down to the plateau before breaking into a sprint towards them snarling in clear hostility.
Grace fired the first shot crippling one of the wolves but being Judges eating a single round of 7.62 NATO and ignoring the short term effects was easy enough. She was joined by the men closest to her as they fired on the wolves, their smaller rounds out of their M4's not being the best choice but still better than nothing.
Even the suppressed shots were enough to alert the handlers that now appeared above them. These guys weren't Chosen but more run of the mill members though if one was to guess by the subtle markings and variations of the cult cross on them these were mostly survivors from John's forces with a few of Jacob's own mixed in.
"SINNERS!" One cried as the wolves rushed forward and the hunters started firing down on the soldiers while seeking out cover where ever possible.
"ENGAGE!" He roared as he met their fire with the loud barking of the .50 cal downing two men instantly before a wolf got close enough that it lept at him.
Foley was about to turn to help as the unmistakable sound of not just one but two MG-42's roaring made him duck back down behind his cover.
He abandoned the Kord to reach up and catch the snout of the Judge and pull it toward him as he whipped the wolf and himself around allowing him to lay on his back and use his free arm to choke the wolf around its neck hopefully also break its neck.
On the other side of the plateau Joey was dealing with her own problems with the local wild life as she pulled two wolves off of one of the Delta guys. She found it disturbing that they weren't trying to kill him outright but actually drag him out behind the rock so he could be torn apart by the machine guns or the other cultists.
She put a burst of .50 Beowulf into one wolf that was dragging the man out of cover as he protected his throat and emptied his sidearm into the other finally managing to get a crippling shot, probably on the spine allowing him toss the body away and rejoin the line.
"Hudson!" She heard Martin call out as she too returned to the fight at hand.
"Hudson you know how to use that launcher on your back?" He asked as one of the MG-42's roared away sending rock chips flying on top of their heads.
"Yeah mostly, not accurately though. Only got thermobaric rounds for it too." She replied as she saw one of the remaining wolves try to move to flank them and busied herself by filling it with lead.
"We can make that work. We'll cover you so you can get a good shot on the left MG. Then we only have one loud gun to deal with." He ordered as he loaded a fresh belt.
She set her gun down and brought out the pump action launcher once more. "Ok ready!"
"SUPPRESSING FIRE LEFT SIDE!" Martin shouted without preamble as he rose up just enough to give his gun enough clearance that he could sweep the left side of the cults lines, his team joined in as she rose up to a crouch and hoped that what Roger had said about the short arming distance had been right because they didn't have much more than that between their two lines.
Raising up also let her see for a brief moment Roger finishing off a wolf as Grace was rapidly tapping away at the left side of the cults line. She aimed low and sent a round down range with a muted 'bloop' the round hitting the base of a tree that the gunner was using for cover. The time between her firing the round and it hitting proved to be too much as she could hear Martin yell and howl as he took a hit. Still she pressed on and dumped the rest of the three other grenades into the trees sending splinters and fire racing through the area forcing everyone including their own people ducking.
Empty she fell back to the ground behind her cover and brought out her stolen bag full of grenades to reload and finally look at Martin. He was bleeding from a few scratches on his face but otherwise alive and shaking off the shock, something that couldn't be said of his weapon.
A round had punched down through both the holographic sight he had mounted and the feed tray of the gun utterly wrecking it. Now he was down to his own 1911.
"Good shooting Deputy. Makes it almost worth loosing my damn gun." He said disgusted more with himself than anything else.
From the other side of their line a dead Judge flew through the air and landed in a heap in the 'no mans land' between the cult and them. "MARTIN! You still alive?!" Roger called clearly not happy with the delay the wolf had caused him in joining the fight proper.
"Yes sir! Primary is out and I'm down to my sidearm!" Martin said as the remaining MG-42 started dumping everything on Roger's position.
"Martin and Hudson flank right! Foley and the rest of you suppress these bastards!" He ordered as he picked up his own machine gun and began blind firing in the general direction of the other machine gun.
It wasn't the best use of ammo and short of an act of God he wouldn't hit anything but the only thing more nerve racking than the rapid roar of a MG-42 was the heavy chugging of a .50 cal firing in your general direction.
The rest of the Delta Team joined in the suppression as Joey lead the way with her Beowulf and Martin using the more heavily armored Deputy as a shield to fire around as they advanced.
As Joey approached the machine gunners position he must have just loaded his last belt because they could hear him calling for more ammo over his right shoulder Joey shot the two men he was looking at while Martin plugged the gunner and dove on his gun.
"THE SINNERS HAVE BREECHED OUR LINES! CHARGE BROTHERS!" One of the cultists shouted causing a surge of men to come out of the literal woodwork. She didn't even get a chance to shout a warning to Martin or the rest of their forces when Martin charged forward past her before planting himself and shouldering the gun before unleashing a long barrel melting string of fire that would have been more akin to something Roger would have pulled.
The cultists drawn to the sound charged at him firing wildly. Those that tried to stop an aim their rifles were cut down first, followed by those who managed to get close enough that they dropped their guns and drew their hunting knifes, finally those that instead tried to retreat their feet slipping in the wet mud and muck and condemning their haste.
Martin stopped firing with likely only 50 to 30 rounds left on his belt, the sound of the mountain of brass clinking together as it settled joined the sound of the rain filtering through the canopy sizzling as it touched the hot barrel and left a cloud of steam in its wake.
The world was quiet once more as no other attackers came to meet them. Joey called 'Clear!' and Martin walked over to some of the dead cultists and stripped them of the belts they carried. They returned to the line as the soldiers reloaded weapons and checked themselves for injury. A few men had taken glancing shots to their gear and armor causing a few bouts of swearing of having to patch or replace their gear when they got back home. Still a small price to pay for not getting killed.
Foley was the first to speak. "Sargent Martin... just what the hell was that?"
The young man smiled broadly. "One of the most prized guns Grampa Martin brought back from Germany in WWII was a MG-42. A gun that I shot a lot as a kid before he died and passed it to me. You could say I know how to use one with some level of competence."
Roger approached the gathered men holding Martin's ruined Mk 48. Ramirez whistled loudly. "Jesus Christ man... a bit to the left and you would have taken a face shot."
"I can safely say in case its not obvious there is no way Dad or I could hope to repair this, even if we could I doubt the receiver would ever be able to be considered 'accurate'. I know I saw some spare barrels back at the shop so I'll grab some for you next time we are in town unless you want something newer." Roger rattled off expertly before adding. "I can't blame the cult for carrying MG's on their hunting trips, either against us or the local Bliss enhanced wildlife."
Martin shrugged before answering the first statement. "I really should swap it I guess but for now 'Hitler's Buzz Saw' hungers for religious nut jobs."
As if fate had a sense of humor the cries of three men were heard as they lept off of the outcrop into the group, two of them armed with large knives and hatchets and one armed with a two bit logging ax who dove on Roger specifically.
"PREACHERS!" Joey yelled as she brought up her rifle to try and get a shot on the charging men as the soldiers followed suit.
Roger didn't even have that luxury as he used Martin's wrecked gun to block a strike from the Preacher who was dead set on attacking him. The blow now deflected the giant punched the drug enhanced zealot to stun him long enough to let him grapple with the smaller man.
The Bliss may harden ones body to bullets and blades and even massive bleeding but choking and the ripping of limbs were still on the list of ways to die if one was strong enough and 'The Collapse' was so.
Over by Joey she had managed to blow off a hand on her attacker before he got too close and she fought him hand to hand. The soldiers around them staring in shock as this hairy, tattooed, and bare chested man was still happily fighting with a few mags worth of ammo having been pumped into him. Now that he was meleeing it was now too dangerous to simply shoot again especially considering its ineffectiveness.
With practiced ease she sent a powerful kick to the side of the mans knee caving it audibly and whipping him down to the ground and overpowering the man much to his surprise as she brought both of his arms around his back and upward dislocating his remaining uninjured arm. His other arm she couldn't grip tight enough given the mount of blood gushing from his wrecked hand affecting her grip but was able to pin it at least.
"SHOOT THE NECK! SHOOT THE NECK!" She screamed at the stunned men as one of them walked up and placed a single round into the back of the Preacher's neck. Still he fought and gurgled and the man fired again and again until he finally stopped moving.
The last preacher had gone down the middle and was engaged with Grace. She had dumped her rifle mag into his chest before throwing the weapon at him. The move forced him to bat it down and away with his hatchet in his left hand as he charged with the knife up high in his right hand, ready to stab down on her.
She stepped into him with her left arm going up to grab the knife hand as sent as hard of a right hook into the Preacher's neck as she could before continuing to twist into the man and reached behind her to grab his belt in order to set him up for a hip throw.
The blow to the neck however hadn't stunned the Preacher as much as she had expected as he dropped his hatchet and brought his arm across her chest pinning her against him and with a iron grip began to choke her as he used his slightly taller height to hoist the woman off the ground.
She couldn't do more than flail her legs back trying to get a blow on his knees or groin and her remaining free arm was the only thing keeping the knife from being driven into her now.
Then the world seemingly fell down. Foley had gotten behind the Preacher, wrapped his right arm around the mans neck to latch on to his left arm as his left hand found good purchase in the mans long hair before he sent his own legs flying backwards forcing even the enhanced man down to the ground and at least in theory breaking his neck.
Sensing a more dangerous opponent the Preacher tossed the woman aside as he tried reach back and grab the Captain's head. His fingers slipping around his helmet
"RAMIREZ! GRAB THAT HATCHET AND CHOP THIS MONSTER'S HEART OUT!" He ordered as the Sargent grabbed the fallen weapon and lept on top of the Preachers gut forcing all the air out of him before he wailed as hard as possible into the mans chest in a shower of gore before one of his blows sunk deep enough that when he brought the hatchet back up that it brought up with it most of the mans heart and a chunk of lung.
Finally the man's movements were reduced to simple death twitches and Foley released the mans head and forced himself to rise breathing hard and looking wide eyed at what it had taken to down the man.
As he got to his feet the Preacher's arm rose to reach out to Ramirez who now hacked at the Preacher's neck until the head was fully removed. He looked up at his Captain and then down at the mount of blood on himself.
"Of all the monster's the cult has the most dangerous are their 'blessed' members like John's Preacher's or Faith's Priestess's if any survived. All the knowledge and problem solving skills of man wrapped in a body that refuses to die until its utterly torn asunder." Roger said as he approached the group holding the head of his Preacher.
Foley went over to Grace and offered a hand to hoist her up to her feet. "Well sir... I really hope there aren't that many left." He said as she stood.
Everyone took a moment to check weapons and drink some water. Grace had cracked the scope when she had thrown the rifle at the Preacher and was down to her back up iron sights. Martin had with the help of some of the other guys searched the dead for intel and ammo for his gun, in doing so also managed to find a spare barrel out of the wreckage of Joey's grenade attack..
The fight against the Preacher's had only taken a little over a minute from start to finish and showed the soldiers gathered just what the Resistance had been dealing with from day one. Finally though they packed up and pressed on up the trail for another hour through the mud and muck until reaching the large clearing that stood before Bo's Cave.
Roger took his Kord in hand and walked cautiously as he watched the surrounding rocks above them. Joey was right at his side, her gun leveled at the cave. Hanging back maybe 20 or 30 feet away the rest of the team watched the surrounding woods and rocks.
They had only just reached the center of the clearing when from inside the cave the amplified buzz of the massive cargo drone was heard briefly before flying outside into the rain, the drone stopping at his head height just out of easy reach.
"We are here as agreed. Identify yourselves and state your intentions." He ordered the drone when movement from the rocks caught his eye and then from the very ground uniformed men rose out of overgrown pits whose covers had inches of moss and even grass growing out of the dirt that adhered to the covers. From the rocks more uniformed men appeared all armed with a mix of AR-15's and lever action hunting rifles.
Above the cave a pile of small rocks moved before Roger realized that what he was seeing was a literal blanket of stones held together with woven tall grass and reeds. The blanket was cast aside and a old man in a Park Ranger's uniform stood up.
"Welcome to Whitetail National Park." Ranger Clark said with a smile. From behind him out stepped Ranger Kornel holding the drone controls.
Rogered waved for his men to approach as he visibly relaxed. "Well now I understand why Jacob's forces couldn't find who was hitting their convoys. Neither could the Whitetail Militia for that matter."
"Couldn't trust them. With Jacob brainwashing folks and them having been so badly damaged internally we weren't about to try and coordinate with them. We have survived on our own through cunning and stealth. " Ranger Clark said lowering his gun which the other rangers took as a sign to lower theirs.
Roger could only smile at the mans pragmatic reading of the Whitetails. If he didn't have the resources that he did behind him he could understand why anyone would avoid trying to get entangled in their paranoia if they would even accept outsiders that couldn't potentially out muscle them.
Ranger Clark picked up on Roger's thoughts and shared in the smile. "I'm old..." he said and Roger finished. "Not stupid."
"This isn't your base is it? You guys wouldn't chance it until you could confirm who we are and get a measure of us." Joey added.
Kornel chimed in nodding as he did. "Correct Hudson. That's why I sent my drone to make first contact. Safer for us to do so even given the weather."
When the Rangers had climbed down from their positions everyone gathered around the fire pit that Bo had setup in the cave complete with a smokestack rising to the top of the cavern made out of hollowed out logs. It was nice to be out of the rain and the warmth of the fire was a better luxury than anyone could have hoped for at the moment.
Clark had cups of coffee and jerky made from bison passed out in generous portions as he sat cross the fire from Roger, Joey, Grace, and Foley.
"So tell me deputies... what is going on in the rest of the county? We have had spotty radio contact where our base was and with the cult holding the radar station we couldn't rule out that they might somehow be able to track us electronically if we tried to reach out to anyone over the more powerful radio frequencies." He asked before drinking his coffee.
"Over the last two nearly three weeks ago we have been fighting to free the county. I liberated Fall End and eventually all of Holland Valley, meanwhile Joey here was held prisoner by John Seed for the first week before I... well got captured. Then crushed John's head with my bare hands, cleared out the bunker with Joey's help, and freed the prisoners. We also found that the cult has built technically four nuclear armed missiles and a whole lot of additional warheads."
"Nukes?" Clark looked at them dumbfounded.
Foley nodded. "Yes sir that is true."
"On the second week we moved to attack Faith Seed's holdings in the Henbane River region. We found Sheriff Whitehorse alive and organizing what resistance he could out of the county jail. Roger here and to a less... severe degree myself were exposed to high levels of Bliss. Him a experimental blend of some kind that was basically part of a cult super soldier program and me just sheer exposure while fighting in close proximity to Bliss. That's why we are both as overgrown as we are and obviously Roger in his normal style has taken it to the absolute limit." Joey continued her part of the campaign.
"Just how tall are you?" Kornel asked from off to the side.
"Eight feet last time we measured but I am not completely sold on the idea that I am done growing. The cult was trying to produce what they called a 'Saint'. Someone who retained the ability to think like the 'Blessed' members of the cult, the Preacher's that you might have seen to various degrees in Jacob's region..."
Clark scowled hard at hearing the Preacher's title. "Oh trust me we know who they are. A large number of them are based out of the Grand View Lodge, monsters the lot of them."
He nodded and continued. "They are indeed the most dangerous of the cults monsters at least terms of what they can do if given time, tools, and tactics. The other monsters of the cult are their 'Angels' and larger 'Archangels', Jacob seems to have uparmored his Archangels... the few we have run into but Rachel had them in their basic form in spades..."
"Rachel?" Kornel asked.
"Faith Seed has been several women over the years. Its not known if there ever was a real Faith Seed but the one we fought was Rachel Jessop of the Jessop Conservatory if you remember it." Joey offered to the nods of several of the older Rangers.
Question answered Roger continued once more. "These monsters are like zombies. Extremely durable, single minded, and in the case of the Archangels extremely strong as you likely know. A Saint as the cult defined it is a Bliss enhanced being of physical perfection so that they can shrug off the slings and arrows of the physical world and focus on spiritual purity. Most people they tried the process on died outright or became Archangels except for me and at least in my opinion Joey here but by a slower and less intense degree."
Joey now picked up her story once more. "Since Roger was bed ridden because of the Bliss exposure. I fought and liberated the bulk of the Henbane River region. That giant statue of Joseph? Grace and I blew it up."
"What about that... huge explosion a week ago I think to the south? I watched it happen and even saw the sky that day get parted." Kornel asked.
"That was the explosion that killed several birds and several thousand cultists with one stone so to speak. It also served as a means of signaling to the outside world that something was going on in Hope County." Joey explained waving to Foley.
"That's how we got involved. We thought a nuclear test had taken place until we got spy satellite footage of the area. My team was sent here to see what was going on when our plane was shot down. Now we fight under the Major to take down Jacob and fully encircle Joseph." Foley stated pointing at Roger.
"I thought you got discharged? At least that's what Earl told me." Clark asked.
Roger sighed at the reminder. "I basically got called back to service because of the politics taking place in DC right now. No one is sure exactly how to deal with a mad man with nuclear missiles within the US. Is it a law enforcement issue? Military? What does the law say on operating on domestic soil? All of this red tape has slowed everything down and one of the side effects to try and force us legally to comply with their orders was to reactivate every veteran in Hope County. Myself, Dad, Casey, Grace here, even Pastor Jerome and Mr. Redler was called back up. That way they could legally order us to not engage if we didn't manage to at least in theory disable Jacob's missile that we knew about at the time. Of course right after that we find out that he was building his own personal missile without approval from Joseph. That is what we took care of last night."
Clark double face palmed himself before moving his hands as if to pray. Finally he spoke. "Ok this is a lot to take in. We will take you guys back to our base and you can get a better idea of what we can offer you guys in terms of resources. The Rangers of the Whitetail National Park are now at your disposal."