Read Online A state of disobedience by Tom Kratman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tom Kratman
Tags: Action & Adventure
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I will ever be—can take care of any tower they might put up to snipe at us. If they use tanks there are the "special" bottles .
Miguel referred not to flammable Molotov cocktails but to bottles of household ammonia, good for taking out any tank in the world. This was not only true if the tank had an air filtration system, but especially if it had an air filtration system. Ammonia molecules were smaller than oxygen molecules. They would pass through any filter that would pass oxygen through. The bottles were positioned around the mission's adobe wall.
Miguel spared a surreptitious glance at hidden position and emplacements. The police have no clue about the weapons; all we are letting them see are the old ones we had. We have a chance.
"Gas!" Montoya announced, half unexpectedly. The boys immediately started fumbling with their cumbersome, clumsy face masks as the priest counted off, "One thousand, two thousand . . ."
* * *
Sergeant Akers walked off alone and made a cell phone call directly to the Chief. "Captain Nagy? Boss, there's nearly a thousand feds here. Twelve from the FBI's Hostage Rescue Team. Thirty-seven from BATF. About nineteen from the Department of Justice. A hundred man maintenance and support team for the armored vehicles Fort Hood loaned them. They have about thirty-five cooks with them. Four 'observers' from . . . well, I think they're from Delta. You know, the Special Forces types? Act that way, anyway. Arrogant folks, you know? Then there's two full companies from the Secret Service. Over four hundred in that crew. Plus there are two more companies of riot control troops from the Office of the Surgeon General. Oh . . . and something like twenty-one folks toting guns from the Environmental Protection Agency. No, sir. No, I haven't a clue what EPA thinks they're doing here."
"Yessir. Tell the governor. Forty-eight hours. No more. In forty-eight hours the feds will assault."
Grimly, Akers shut off his own phone, closed the cover, and contemplated a dilemma he had never thought to confront.
* * *
Austin, Texas
Nagy sighed. "My man on the ground says forty-eight hours, Governor. Then the feds go in."
"Forty-eight hours," Juanita echoed, faintly.
"Your brother doesn't stand too much of a chance, Governor. They have tanks, armored personnel carriers, two helicopter gunships with Army crews, and some very well-trained specialists."
"Any artillery? Mortars?" asked Schmidt.
"My man didn't see any," Nagy responded. "That would kind of be 'overkill' anyway, wouldn't it?"
"So are tanks. So are gunships."
Juanita shuddered at the image that came unbidden of an armored vehicle crushing her brother's body into the dirt.
* * *
Dei Gloria Mission, Waco, Texas
There were in fact only a brace of tanks, those having to be taken from storage where they had languished since the conversion of the Army's First Cavalry Division to a medium force suitable for deployment to and employment in any operation short of real war against a heavily armored enemy. Worse, the tanks had no ammunition suitable for breaching the walls that surrounded the mission.
They did have, however, a number of machine guns suitable for beating down fire when and if the time came for a dismounted team to carry a breaching charge forward. And the defenders had nothing that could penetrate a tank's armor. Moreover, the tanks themselves—seventy tons of moving metal—could breach most walls simply by slamming against them, though this was a tactic much frowned upon by real tankers whose job was largely keeping their tanks running.
Group Commander Sawyers, First Security Group, Presidential Guard Secret Service, patted one of the tanks affectionately.
* * *
Austin, Texas
Schmidt saw Juani's involuntary shudder, saw the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes. "Folks. I think we ought to leave the governor alone for a bit."
Juanita shot him a grateful glance. At her nod of agreement the others began to file out
Miguel referred not to flammable Molotov cocktails but to bottles of household ammonia, good for taking out any tank in the world. This was not only true if the tank had an air filtration system, but especially if it had an air filtration system. Ammonia molecules were smaller than oxygen molecules. They would pass through any filter that would pass oxygen through. The bottles were positioned around the mission's adobe wall.
Miguel spared a surreptitious glance at hidden position and emplacements. The police have no clue about the weapons; all we are letting them see are the old ones we had. We have a chance.
"Gas!" Montoya announced, half unexpectedly. The boys immediately started fumbling with their cumbersome, clumsy face masks as the priest counted off, "One thousand, two thousand . . ."
* * *
Sergeant Akers walked off alone and made a cell phone call directly to the Chief. "Captain Nagy? Boss, there's nearly a thousand feds here. Twelve from the FBI's Hostage Rescue Team. Thirty-seven from BATF. About nineteen from the Department of Justice. A hundred man maintenance and support team for the armored vehicles Fort Hood loaned them. They have about thirty-five cooks with them. Four 'observers' from . . . well, I think they're from Delta. You know, the Special Forces types? Act that way, anyway. Arrogant folks, you know? Then there's two full companies from the Secret Service. Over four hundred in that crew. Plus there are two more companies of riot control troops from the Office of the Surgeon General. Oh . . . and something like twenty-one folks toting guns from the Environmental Protection Agency. No, sir. No, I haven't a clue what EPA thinks they're doing here."
"Yessir. Tell the governor. Forty-eight hours. No more. In forty-eight hours the feds will assault."
Grimly, Akers shut off his own phone, closed the cover, and contemplated a dilemma he had never thought to confront.
* * *
Austin, Texas
Nagy sighed. "My man on the ground says forty-eight hours, Governor. Then the feds go in."
"Forty-eight hours," Juanita echoed, faintly.
"Your brother doesn't stand too much of a chance, Governor. They have tanks, armored personnel carriers, two helicopter gunships with Army crews, and some very well-trained specialists."
"Any artillery? Mortars?" asked Schmidt.
"My man didn't see any," Nagy responded. "That would kind of be 'overkill' anyway, wouldn't it?"
"So are tanks. So are gunships."
Juanita shuddered at the image that came unbidden of an armored vehicle crushing her brother's body into the dirt.
* * *
Dei Gloria Mission, Waco, Texas
There were in fact only a brace of tanks, those having to be taken from storage where they had languished since the conversion of the Army's First Cavalry Division to a medium force suitable for deployment to and employment in any operation short of real war against a heavily armored enemy. Worse, the tanks had no ammunition suitable for breaching the walls that surrounded the mission.
They did have, however, a number of machine guns suitable for beating down fire when and if the time came for a dismounted team to carry a breaching charge forward. And the defenders had nothing that could penetrate a tank's armor. Moreover, the tanks themselves—seventy tons of moving metal—could breach most walls simply by slamming against them, though this was a tactic much frowned upon by real tankers whose job was largely keeping their tanks running.
Group Commander Sawyers, First Security Group, Presidential Guard Secret Service, patted one of the tanks affectionately.
* * *
Austin, Texas
Schmidt saw Juani's involuntary shudder, saw the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes. "Folks. I think we ought to leave the governor alone for a bit."
Juanita shot him a grateful glance. At her nod of agreement the others began to file out
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