Strategic Assets (Maelstrom Rising Book 4) by Peter Nealen

Author:Peter Nealen [Nealen, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

We sped down the road, watching the sky and the countryside as best we could. The substation was still burning fiercely behind us, the lurid glow flickering far and wide, but there seemed to be very little response, as yet. I could see the fire trucks come screaming out of Janow, lights flashing, heading for a fire that I doubted they were prepared to put out. But the skies were still clear; there was no sign of the military response that I’d been dreading.

We had almost twenty klicks to go. I checked my watch again. Sunrise wasn’t until around eight in the morning, but we didn’t have that much time to act. Vogt’s coup was going to kick off in a matter of hours, and if this was going to work, we needed to have the 1st Division tied in knots before then.

Passing Breest, Jordan slowed as we approached the autobahn. “Oh, hell. Checkpoint.”

I’d already seen it. Two Eagle MRAPs were parked by the on-ramp, and unlike what we’d seen at the substation, there were soldiers out and about, checking vehicles before they got on the autobahn. “Just play it cool.”

“Do I look German to you?” He didn’t stop, but he was definitely easing off on the gas even more.

“There are plenty of black people in Germany these days. Relax. That’s what we’ve got the CROWS turret for.” It wasn’t exactly a CROWS; that was an American design. But close enough. “Odds are, they’ll see Bundeswehr vehicles and wave us through.”

“Would you?” He didn’t look at me, but kept his eyes on the road. Both of us had our helmets lying on the center console, and we were driving with lights on. Driving blacked out would have only raised suspicions.

“No, but you’ve seen the state of Bundeswehr discipline and security as well as I have.” I sighed, though I kept it shallow to avoid inhaling too much more of the stink of blood and shit that lingered inside the vehicle. “I’m pretty sure these poor bastards were napping before we popped up right when the dude in your seat got up to take a piss.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“And, like I said, we’ve got machineguns. They might not handle those MRAPs, but they should be enough to get us past.” I hoped I wasn’t indulging in wishful thinking.

As it turned out, I wasn’t. We hadn’t even stopped behind the Mercedes sedan that was held up, the driver answering the checkpoint’s questions, when another one of the German soldiers waved at us, even as the second Eagle backed up to give us a clear route past the Mercedes. Jordan eased the LAPV forward, leaning back in his seat to keep his face as far from the windshield as possible.

We rolled right past the soldiers, who were watching the Mercedes, without getting a second glance from any of them. The disguise had held.

Jordan still held his breath until we were up on the ramp and driving onto the autobahn. “I can’t believe that worked.

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