Slaughterhouse

TWENTY-SEVEN.

“Wanna check our work, sir?” Muldoon asked.

Lee walked up to the two M939 trucks the element had secured in the 10^th Sustainment Brigade’s motor pool. Corpses had been tied to the front of each vehicle and battered with crow bars to give the trucks a look that roughly approximated the modes of transportation the Klowns seemed to favor—bloody urban chariots. It had been grisly, heinous work, and Lee doubted he would ever feel clean again, even after a dozen scalding-hot showers.

But each truck also had some welcome additions: four Claymore mines attached to their bed side rails, two on each side. The convex-shaped mines were directional weapons loaded with C4 high-explosives that propelled a series of seven hundred steel pellets outward in a sixty degree arc, like a shotgun blast on steroids. The mines were positioned roughly five and half feet off the ground, and their effective kill radius of fifty meters promised to turn dozens of Klowns into just so much human garbage if they got close enough.

Which, of course, they would. Lee was counting on that. Once the crazies got inside the effective range, the mines would be command detonated from inside the truck cabs. It would be a wholesale slaughter, and any left standing would be dealt with by the troops.

The Klowns wouldn’t be expecting that.

“Looks good,” Lee told Muldoon as the rest of the troops drew near. “Everyone clear on how we’re going to handle this?”

“We roll up on the Klowns, laughing our asses off, and get deep inside their lines. Then we go crazy on the crazies,” Muldoon said. “Pretty simple, except there’s about twenty-five of us and about two thousand of them.”

Lee smiled. “Have some faith, Muldoon.”

Muldoon shook his head. “Faith isn’t a very good tactical solution.”

“That’s not so,” Rawlings said, stepping up to stand next to Lee. “We have surprise and an entire battalion staging nearby. You don’t have faith in your battalion, Sergeant?”

Muldoon glowered at her. “Lady, you really need to start getting a handle on this water-walker attitude you like to shop around.”

Rawlings was undeterred. “Have faith, Muldoon.”

“I have faith that the meek will not be inheriting the Earth. How’s that?”

Lee made a cutting motion with his hand. “Stow the bullshit, both of you. Is everyone clear on what’s expected, here? We go in laughing, get as close to the center of their formation as possible, and then we start cleaning house. On our command, Thunder hits them at the same time, and battalion comes in from the north. We pin the Klowns to the south, evac the headquarters troops, and pull the fuck out. Questions?”

“How long do you think we have, sir?” Nutter asked. “I mean, we’re going to need battalion to close on us mighty quick.”

“I figure we’ve got fifteen minutes,” Lee said. “Stay cool, and do what you do best: kill those giggling fuckers.”

The element gave a collective hooah, which Lee accepted with a nod. He motioned toward the trucks.

“Mount up.”