Send Him Victorious: Book 1 by Bart Cline
The Warrior resumed moving, snaking around to the front of the Chieftan.
In a moment the entire column was in motion again, spearheaded by the Warrior.
Further shots were fired from the tops of the buildings on both sides of the street, bouncing off the armour to break windows in a few of the nearby businesses.
The Colonel ignored the inconsequential impacts, and kept the vehicles moving, albeit at a cautious pace.
A thunderous explosion rocked the Warrior, and fiery heat blew in through several crevices on its right side. The men sitting on the right were thrown to the left, the arm of the Lieutenant’s uniform was set alight, and the Warrior came to a stop.
“That was an RPG!” Lieutenant McGougan said, patting down the flames on his sleeve. When it stopped burning he removed the smouldering jacket and threw it to the floor, leaving his olive drab shirtsleeve blackened. “Give us some ventilation. It’s like a toaster in here!”
“Yes sir!” the driver said.
The Lieutenant looked at the Colonel. “Do you think we’ve tested their strength far enough now?”
“Yes sir,” Broadley said. “I can’t say I was expecting that. RPGs aren’t exactly standard police ordnance. Still, we should be safe now we’ve stopped.”
“Sir?” Johnny said, incredulous.
“Private,” the Colonel said, “how would you like to go up there and kill those skunks?”
“But… sir…,” Johnny stammered, “they’re British.”
“Exactly. They’re thinking the same thing. They knew that rocket wouldn’t kill us, but it sent us a strong message, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes sir, it sure did that!”
General Montgomery moved to sit next to Broadley, leaning in close and talking in the tone of confidences. “Colonel, was that Captain Phillips you were talking to a few minutes ago?”
“Yes.”
“Where have you sent him?”
“Only on a short reccy,” the Colonel said. “I expect he’ll be back in a few minutes. Perhaps sooner.”
“When he gets back have him and his men get a message to HQ. He’s to inform them that we’re pulling out because the snipers and other police units have made it impossible for us to move forward safely. Make sure he understands that it’s a strategic withdrawal, not as if we’re admitting defeat.”
Broadley opened his mouth and, for a moment, no words came. “But sir, we’ve only just got here – and we’re within a stone’s throw of Bootham Bar!”
“Nevertheless, we’re going to withdraw. Make sure he goes well ahead of us in our fastest vehicle and sends that message.”
“Oh… kay,” the Colonel said. “I mean, yes sir. I’ll check the area is secure while we wait for the Captain to get back.” He got out of the Warrior, much more cautiously this time, despite what he had just told the private.
Looking at the right exterior of the Warrior, he saw that the appliqué panels had buckled inward slightly under the impact of the rocket propelled grenade, and that none of the caterpillar treads were damaged enough to limit mobility, though the explosion had blackened the entire side of the vehicle.
Montgomery exited the vehicle.
“General, it would be safer for you inside the Warrior.”
“No, like you I believe they won’t harm any of us unless we push them into it.”
“Very well sir,” the Colonel said. “Shall I get the convoy turned around for the withdrawal?”
“Not yet. Give Captain Phillips his orders first.”
“Er… may I ask the General what’s going on? These orders seem directed at giving the Captain a certain… er… way of viewing the situation that I can’t help thinking isn’t entirely accurate.”
“I’m testing a theory.” Montgomery touched the side of his nose with his forefinger. “Just give him his orders without your observations.”
“Right you are sir,” Colonel Broadley said. “He should be coming back any moment.”
“Good,” the General said. “I’ll leave you to it then.” He climbed back aboard the Warrior.
In a moment, Captain Phillips reappeared, he and his men no worse for wear.
“Good to see you safe, Captain,” Broadley said. “What do you have to report?”
“They’ve set up a proper perimeter just a little further in. Whenever we tried to go deeper someone on a roof would fire a warning shot into the ground near us. It seems to prove your theory.”
“Good. Well, not good, really, but useful.” The two men smiled. “We started the convoy up again. After a few feet they let fly an RPG. Hit us in the side.”
Phillips glanced at the Warrior’s blackened armour. “So I see. Is everyone alright?”
“Of course. It takes more than that to do any real harm to one of these beasts.”
“So, they’re not only well-prepared,” the Captain said. “They’re well-equipped too. They haven’t fired again though. That proves their non-belligerence. They just don’t want us to come any further.”
“Bloody right they don’t. Now, I’ve got another job for you. We need to withdraw for a bit. As you say, they’re prepared and equipped. We’ve tested them. Now we need to get some distance. Both sides have made a show of strength. Time to back off and plan our next step.”
Phillips raised an eyebrow. “How long for, sir?”
“Oh, a day or so, I should think. We’re going to make a push, no doubt about it, but the battle plans haven’t been made yet. Or if they have, no-one’s told me about them.”
“And what do you want me to do?”
“Get a message out. This jamming field is still giving us jip. You need to get outside its influence and appraise HQ of the situation, from somewhere beyond the ring road.”
The Captain stood for a moment, looking at the ground and putting his fingers to his chin. He looked at Broadley. “Very good sir.” He saluted the Colonel and departed, gathering his men and going back to his vehicle.
Broadley went back to his Warrior, in which the General and his staff were still sitting.
“He’s off, General. Now, shall we turn this column around and make our retreat?”
“You mean our ‘strategic withdrawal’,” the General said.
“I try to call a spade a spade, sir,” Broadley said.
“So do I. Trust me.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Good.”
“Fine, get on with it, Broadley,” Major Weldon said. “With your permission, General.”
Montgomery smiled. “Carry on.”
“Sir!” Colonel Broadley turned to go, and disappeared from their view.
“Sorry to make mincemeat of the chain of command, chaps,” the General said. “It had to be done.”
“The General doesn’t need to apologise to us,” Lieutenant McGougan said.
“Of course not,” Montgomery agreed. “Nevertheless, there it is.”
***
Colonel Broadley relocated himself to the last vehicle in the line, which during the withdrawal would become the first.
Each vehicle had to execute a three- to seven-point turn in order to go back the way it had come, parts of the street being too narrow to easily turn a tank or an APC without damaging the surroundings.
When they reached the ring road Broadley ordered a stop, and then began the task of organising the vehicles in ranks along the road.
He returned to the General’s Warrior.
“Okay sirs,” Broadley said, “What now?”
“Now we go back in,” Major Weldon said.
***
The soldiers spread through the streets on foot, like blood in so many capillaries, staying in the shadows wherever possible.
Well before they reached the point they had been fired upon earlier they sent teams up to the rooftops.
The soldiers found the police units resting, even on the buildings they had been firing from several hours previously. Easily taking many of the outlying buildings of the enemy’s perimeter,
When questioned, the overcome and captured police revealed that they had relaxed because they had been informed that the enemy wasn’t coming back for at least a day.
It was not until they attempted to capture points nearest the walls that a police unit fired a shot, effectively raising the alarm. After that, those manning the police emplacements were more alert and ready. But by then the army held a substantial perimeter, surrounding the city centre in a tight ring, and had seized a number of prisoners as well.
It was at this point the rebels at last began to fight back in earnest.
***
Montgomery stood atop the tallest building he had been able to find within sight of the battle lines, calmly surveying the situation as best he could through a pair of binoculars. A number of soldiers were visible on the rooftops in front of him, but any view of the main action was lost in the distance. With a lack of electronic communication, messages were being sent back to him in a combination of Morse code and semaphore. The reports from the front had been encouraging.
“There’s nothing else for me to do here, Harve.” The General took the binoculars away from his eyes. “I’ll be getting back to London. Do you mind if I borrow that Warrior again?”
“Of course not sir,” Colonel Broadley said. “I’m sure the men will be happy to take you wherever you need to go.”
“I’ll take Lieutenant McGougan with me. Major Weldon shall remain here in case you need him.”
“Thank you sir,” the Colonel said.
“The moment communications are restored,” Montgomery said, “be sure to report back to me. I want to be kept informed of every step of this operation.”
“Bear in mind sir,” Major Weldon said, “we don’t know for certain where the jamming signal is being transmitted from.”
“Of course we do. It’ll be at the highest point in the city: the tower of York Minster.”
“Perhaps, but we don’t control the city centre.” The Major smiled. “I suppose we could start shelling it. We’ve got the artillery.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure His Majesty would love that.” The General returned the Major’s smile. “He can always have it rebuilt. It’s only the third most sacred and historic site in Britain. Still, I don’t think things are that bad yet.”
“Perhaps not sir. Nevertheless, the police are putting up quite a fight, if we’re interpreting our signals correctly from… should we call it the front? Perhaps we’ll have to get the artillery out soon.”
“Seriously Major, under no circumstances – save for a matter of life and death – are any historic monuments to be damaged. Is that understood?”
“Of course. No problem. We’ll rout this rabble soon enough, and the city’ll be back to normal.”
“Good. Let’s keep Britain intact. That’s what we’re here for.”
“Right. Now, you get back to London sir,” the Major said. “We’ve got everything under control here. Haven’t we Broadley?”
The Colonel nodded. “Absolutely sir. A few ill-equipped cops aren’t going to keep us out of the city centre for long. You have a good trip sir, and give our regards to His Majesty, while we mop this up.”
The men saluted one another, and parted company. The Major and the Colonel remained where they were, while the Lieutenant and the General descended the stairs.
Major Weldon kept one eye on the city centre, and the other on the departing General, watching him as he was safely reunited with the armoured vehicle and being driven out of the city. Weldon turned back to Broadley. “How is it looking, Colonel?”
Broadley took a breath, about to reply as he gazed through his high-powered binoculars. But before he could answer there was a flash from one of the rooftops in the city centre, followed a second later by a distinct explosive crump.
“What just happened?” Weldon looked toward the fading flash which was now a rising ball of flame and smoke. “Is that one of ours?”
Colonel Broadley dropped the binoculars, letting them dangle by the leather strap around his neck, and rubbed his eyes vigorously with the heels of his hands. “Yes, I think so. I mean, no. I mean, I think it was one of ours that was hit.”
“By what?”
“A mortar shell,” Broadley guessed.
“The police don’t have mortars in their arsenal. They shouldn’t even have RPGs.”
“Well, they have got them. Somehow. And now they’ve drawn first blood.”
“We need to get our comms back.”
“That means,” Broadley said, “that either the King’s going to have to say goodbye to his precious historical monument, or we’re going to have to get a man to the top of that Minster.”
They both looked toward the five-hundred-year-old cathedral church – which was the seat of the Archbishop of York and one of Britain’s most precious structures – and in particular its two-hundred-plus-foot tower.
***
Securely belted into their seats aboard the Wildcat helicopter, Lieutenant McGougan and General Montgomery tried to relax during the return to London. They were the army chopper’s only passengers, seated in the positions soldiers would normally occupy on deployments to international hotspots.
A veteran of several foreign actions, the pilot kept the ride as smooth as possible out of respect for his high-ranking passengers.
His eyes darted to and fro between the tactical radar display, flight instruments, and the view of the nighttime Yorkshire landscape.
The flight was interrupted when, in the pre-dawn twilight, the vigilant pilot spotted a tiny but suspicious trail of light rising from the ground. The chopper bucked as the pilot pulled on the collective, putting the craft into a dizzying climb, and wrenched the cyclic to and fro to trace out a path of random zigzags – perhaps appearing out of control to a hypothetical untrained eye.
“Sorry sirs. Evasive manoeuvres!”
“Evading,” the Major said, rocking violently in his seat as he came close to vomiting, “what?”
The pilot did not respond right away, fighting with the cyclic to avoid the rapidly ascending projectile. The missile flashed past the chopper with a violent shockwave. “Heat seeker, if its trail was any indication. Short range though. Not quite what you expect over the Yorkshire countryside, is it sirs?”
He eased the collective down to stop the aircraft’s rapid ascent and smoothed out their flight path, though keeping a sharper forward incline to increase velocity, resuming their course.
“Who fired it,” the Major said, “the police?”
“If so,” the General said, “our problem just got much bigger. No police force has heat-seeking surface-to-air rockets; even short-range. There’s an external agency supplying them.”
***
After a journey of two hours and no further incidents, the General’s helicopter touched down in Buckingham Palace’s gardens in the full light of early morning. He made his way with a brisk step past the guards, all of whom saluted him, and into the Palace. Weaving his way through corridors, rooms, and staircases, he arrived at Blair Lindsey’s desk, outside the King’s personal office.
Lindsey, in shirtsleeves with his jacket draped on the back of his chair, stood up and offered his hand to the General, who shook it. “Good…” – Lindsey paused to look at his watch – “morning General. Good to see you’re all right. We heard about the rocket attack on your helicopter. His Majesty was most concerned for your safety. As was I.”
“Thank you Mr Lindsey. I appreciate your concern. May I see His Majesty now?”
“Certainly. He’s keen to see you too.”
Lindsey collected his notebook and pen from his desk, though a pen was already visible in his shirt pocket. He put his jacket on, and made sure his tie was straight before ushering the General into the King’s office.
As he closed the door behind him the King and the General were already shaking hands.
“I’m so glad to see you’r
“Of course Your Majesty,” Montgomery said, “but first… I know this might sound slightly trivial, but might I request a cup of tea? I’ve only just realised how dehydrated I am.”
“What,” the King said, “have you had nothing to drink since you left York?”
“Since then, and quite some time before.”
“Blair, organise it.”
“It’s already taken care of, Your Majesty,” Blair said even as he was busy preparing his notebook.
The General began to tell the King of all that had transpired in York.
The King interjected at various points. “Communications, jammed? Over an entire city, and its outskirts? Is that even possible?”
“Evidently so,” the General said. “But it’d take time to set up, power to feed it – including backup power – and collusion to get it up there, perhaps even from the Dean of the cathedral.”
The King leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes while shaking his head. “Oh dear. Do go on.”
The General continued his story.
Soon a knock came at the door. Lindsey opened it, and a matronly tea lady came in. She set the tray on the table and began to arrange the cups, teapot, milk jug, and sugar bowl.
“Blair,” the King said, nodding in the direction of the tea lady, “will you be mother?”
“I’m sorry Your Majesty, but I do need to get everything down.”
“That is quite alright Blair,” the King said. “We’ll stop while you pour out.”
“Very well sir. Thank you Beryl.” Lindsey took the teapot from the woman, smiling at her as she backed away. Lindsey poured a small amount of milk into each cup before adding the piping tea. He then added a spoonful of sugar to the General’s cup and honey to the King’s.
When Lindsey had sat down and recovered his notebook, the General took an appreciative sip of his tea, and continued his account.
“The police– My police,” the King said, interrupting Montgomery again, “actually opened fire on you?”
“They certainly did, though only warning shots. No-one was hurt.”
“I don’t suppose the heat-seeking rocket fired at your helicopter was also a warning shot?” The King leaned forward into the conversation.
“No,” Montgomery said, “that certainly seemed to be playing for keeps, though we did manage to pull through without a scratch. But since I left” – the General leaned closer to the King – “I have received word that they’ve fired on and killed several of my men. With mortars.”