***

With every shot and scream that echoed over the radio, Alex cringed. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that the Class 3s had that placed locked down tighter than Fort Knox. The shackles around his wrists and ankles only exacerbated the feeling of helplessness as he wriggled and writhed on the floor of the tank. Nelson, ignoring any grunts and groans of Alex’s displeasure, was fixated on his laptop.

“Nelson, you need to call for backup,” Alex said.

“I already did,” Nelson replied, continuing his abnormally fast keystrokes without even breaking eye contact with the screen.

But while Alex’s voice wasn’t able to break the barrier of concentration that surrounded Nelson, the blast of gunshots combined with the high-pitched howling of screams caused the rhythmic pace of Nelson’s fingers to slow.

“If Luis and his men are still alive, then they won’t be by the time the cavalry arrives,” Alex said.

“Can you get them out?”

“Yes.”

Nelson immediately reached for the keys and released Alex from his restraints. Every muscle in Alex’s body let out a sigh of relief for their much-appreciated emancipation.

“Show me Luis’s entry point,” Alex said, walking over to the computer. Alex grabbed one of the AR-15s inside the tank, along with two 9mm pistols and enough loaded magazines to make sure he made it out alive or killed as many sentries as he could.

The three-dimensional schematic rotated, and a small dot blinked where Luis and his men had infiltrated the refinery. Nelson constructed a line that followed the path they would have followed upon breaching the walls. “Moving at an average walking speed of four miles per hour, then factoring in stoppage time for recon, as well as any obstacles they encountered, they should be around right here.”

“And what the hell is that?” Alex asked.

“That would be the conversion unit. What it does is change the molecular structure of the heavier materials in t—”

“Nelson, I don’t need the scientific breakdown of what’s happening, I just need to know if it’s sensitive to bullets.”

“Yes. Yes, it’s very sensitive to bullets.”

After receiving a few other quick summaries of what was and wasn’t explosive, Alex jumped behind the wheel of the only truck that was left and made his way to the refinery, leaving Nelson to stand guard and help the cavalry find what was left of the bodies if Alex failed. Once he made it over to the wall, he parked the truck with the others and scaled the concrete barrier to the other side.

The first few steps onto the massive acreage that was the refinery were slow, hesitant. This was uncharted territory, and as much as he admired Luis’s “shoot first and ask questions later” mentality, he couldn’t afford any slipups.

Whenever you go hunting, it’s equally as important to have a good understanding of not just the animal, but also the animal’s environment. And if there was ever a fish out of water, then it would be Alex right now. He bent to one knee and listened, holding his rifle like it was a child, and waiting for any sign or direction.

The distant hum of the oil machinery would only be briefly interrupted by the fast howl of the wind across his ears, but that wasn’t what he was waiting for. And then, after a spout of fire had erupted from one of the stacks in the middle of the refinery, Alex heard the distinct thump of gunshots coming from the northeast.

Alex kept to the perimeter of the wall as he sprinted east. After a good five minutes of keeping up a solid jog, Alex came to a stop, the left side of his stomach cramping. The gunshots were still within earshot, but coming farther from the west now. If Alex’s ears were serving him right, and he headed north, he’d come up right behind the sentries.

Massive gas pumps lined the sides of a large overhang where the truck tankers came and filled up before heading off to distribute them to gas stations around the country. At least, that’s what they used to do. Now they were sent to the Coalition bases, which held all the fuel and controlled the flow of every piece of transportation in the Midwest.

Alex had a system. With every thirty yards he moved forward, he stayed hunkered down for thirty seconds before moving again, and making sure to change that thirty seconds to either forty, thirty-five, or forty-five seconds sporadically, so any snipers didn’t pick up his pattern.

Patience was one of the hardest aspects of hunting to master. Most people can learn to shoot a rifle fairly accurately, and while the art of tracking takes time to get a handle on, it’s not impossible to learn either. But where he’d seen so many of his friends fail would be waiting for their shot, avoiding the aggressiveness of startling their game. That’s why he stopped and waited after each sprint. He was banking that with all the action happening across the refinery, there would be a few itchy trigger fingers just waiting to up their body count.

Most of the firefight was concentrated to the west of him, and he could see a few of the Class 3s posted up in the rafters under the cover of thick beams of steel. Alex propped himself up against the side of a concrete wall and rested his elbows along the top. The crosshairs of the scope lined up just between the knee and the hip of the Class 3 picking off soldiers to the east, with only a few inches of space between two pieces of rigid steel.

Aside from the random spurts of breeze, there wasn’t much wind, and the dry heat would cause the bullet to exit the barrel at a higher velocity, causing it to rise. Alex dropped the crosshairs less than half an inch and exhaled. He placed his finger on the trigger, watching the Class 3 squeeze round after round. Wait for it. Each shot bringing down one of Luis’s soldiers. Wait for it. He could be pinning down someone who needs medical help. Wait for it. He’s killing soldiers. Now.

Alex squeezed the trigger, and the bullet hit the center of the sentry’s thigh between the three-inch gap of the steel beams, and the sentry collapsed to the ground from his position almost two stories high. But before Alex could swing his rifle to the other sentry, he had legions of bullets barreling toward him. He ducked behind the wall for cover and looked to his left, where there was nothing but open space. He darted his head right and could see another pillar of steel closer to where Luis’s soldiers were. Alex took a deep breath then darted for the pillars.

Bullets danced around Alex’s feet on his run, signaling that there was more than one Class 3 hunting him now. He slammed his shoulder into the steel beam as his forward momentum came to an abrupt halt.

Still feeling the vibrations from the bullets hitting the opposite side of the column, Alex pivoted right and found another Class 3 heading right for him. He brought the creature into his crosshairs and pulled the trigger but was a half second too late, allowing the animal to dash behind a concrete barrier.

Another cluster of beams was just to his right and would help continue his trek east to Luis and the other soldiers. The number of cover locations, combined with their close proximity to one another, would give him the ability to maneuver fairly easily through the area.

Before the Class 3 had an opportunity to regain any position, Alex dashed to the pillars and began the methodical approach to Luis and his men in the distance. With the heat of battle engulfing him, he abandoned the pattern upon his earlier arrival and darted between the pillars as fast as he could.

The ring of the bullets from the sentry in pursuit landed on each pillar in different tones, exuding an ominous timbre, as each ring grew louder with the sentry’s chase. With the amount of sweat on his shirt, he felt like he’d been swimming for the past hour. The sweaty fabric clung to his skin with a relentless neediness he just couldn’t shake.

The clunk of the refinery’s machinery intensified along with the symphony of bullets behind Alex as he continued to duck and evade the foaming wolf behind him. A few times, he caught the flash of the sentry’s eyes. They were dark. Black almost, like they were stoic portions of the night sky fighting the light of stars that tried to snuff it out.

“Keep pushing!”

The harsh, authoritative tone was a voice Alex immediately recognized, and he found himself exhaling a sigh of relief that Luis was still alive.

The pillars ahead of him blocked most of the view, but between his sporadic running he was able to catch random glimpses of rifles, legs, and finally, with sweat on his face and bloodstains on his arms, he saw the stout, muscular figure of Luis, who looked equally as astonished to see Alex there with a gun in his hand.

“Look out!” Luis yelled.

Alex immediately ducked behind the nearest pillar as gunfire erupted from all sides. He knelt down, lowering himself to waist height, then turned the corner and sent three bullets into the legs of the Class 3 chasing him, who collapsed in a half-hobbled run.

The majority of the gunfire was coming from the north, but judging from the condition of Luis’s men, they weren’t going to be able to make a push anytime soon.

All of the wounded had been gathered behind a steel silo, where the medic had his hands full trying to patch everyone up. Whatever evacuation there was wouldn’t arrive in time to save most of them. With fatal bullet wounds to the abdomens, legs, and chests, there would be more body bags than soldiers going home. Unless they were able to take the base quickly.

“Luis!” Alex said, shouting above the gunfire.

Luis dropped the empty magazine and reloaded, keeping his eyes on the targets ahead. “How the hell did you get in here?”

“Nelson.”

“I’m gonna kill that guy.” Luis squeezed off another few rounds and then joined Alex tucked behind one of the concrete walls.

“What’s your plan B?” Alex asked.

“It’s the same as plan A. Retake the refinery,” Luis answered, with puffs of concrete dust exploding just above both of their heads. The wall they used cover behind was starting to look more like a block of Swiss cheese than concrete.

“I might be able to help with that,” Alex replied. “How many grenades do you have left?”

“I need an ordinance check!”

The makeshift collection of grenades, claymores, and one RPG gave them a formidable collection, but they were only going to get one chance to make it work.

“We need misdirection. That’s the only way we’ll be able to throw them off,” Alex said. “They think we’ll do anything not to damage the structure of the facility, and they’re using that as much as they can to their advantage.” Alex picked up one of the grenades. “We need to change that.”

“No, we don’t. We can’t afford to lose this installation.”

Alex pointed to a few large cylinders in close proximity to the sentries. “Those tanks were reserved for other oil-collected substances, like petroleum jelly, which haven’t been filled in years. The refinery’s only productions now are gasoline and jet fuel. That’s why the sentries don’t care where they’re located, because they know we won’t use ordinance.”

“I need confirmation for that.”

It could have been the frustration of the day or the fact that he’d been locked up in a tank for almost twelve hours, but Alex grabbed Luis by the collar and pointed to the group of wounded soldiers that his overwhelmed medic was tending to. “You see that? You’re not going to have any men left in about ten minutes if you don’t do something. That’s your confirmation!”

Alex had always weighed a man by how he treated not just the men around him, but also the men under him. A leader understood objectives, but he also understood that objectives couldn’t be completed if everyone under his command was dead.

“Do it,” Luis said.

Alex gripped two grenades, one in each hand, pulled the pins on both, and held them tight. “Fire in the hole!” He chucked the two grenades as hard as he could to the empty structures next to the sentries.

The Class 3 sentries scrambled, caught off guard by the sudden change in tactics, and before all of them could retreat to a safer distance, the grenades detonated, sending a magnificent explosion of fire and steel into the Texas sky.

With the sentries now on their heels, Alex and Luis led the charge of men as they pushed forward, closer to the distillation center, keeping the pressure of chucking grenades while they still could, before they made it the area where they couldn’t afford that type of recklessness.

While most of the sentries retreated to the stronghold of the distillation center, two Class 3s refused to give up their position. The self-indignant defiance of running didn’t sit well with them, and they instantly became a thorn in the side for both Luis and Alex.

The smoke from the resulting fires hazed the line of sight and made it difficult for both sides. Alex was caught off guard by a vicious bout of hacking and coughing from the acrid smoke. He was separated from Luis and the remaining soldiers still healthy enough to continue the mission. He placed his hand on the pipe next to him to keep himself from keeling over, and he felt his hand hit a lump. When he looked up he saw that it was a C-4 explosive device.

“Luis!”

But with the two sentries still keeping up their relentless last stand, Luis couldn’t hear Alex shouting. And that’s when Alex noticed similar devices placed randomly at other locations. High above them, and down at their feet. Even if they were able to re-take the refinery, Gordon wasn’t going to let anyone else have it. Once the sentries determined that they could no longer hold the position, they were going to bury they place and entomb whoever was left inside.

Ahhgg!” Luis screamed.

He’d been hit in the shoulder and collapsed to the ground, dropping his gun and clutching the wound, which bled profusely. A member of his team tried running toward him but was immediately taken down by a bullet to the head, leaving Luis alone, wounded, and under fire.

Go!” Luis said, gesturing for Alex to run.

Alex peeked around the corner and got a good look at both sentries before his cover was blown and he had to duck back behind the piping. Both sentries had abandoned any sense of making it out alive and had positioned themselves next to one of the explosive devices Alex recognized. All he needed to detonate the explosive was to create a powerful enough shock to set off the detonator. A bullet wouldn’t do it, but the gas pressure from the surrounding pipes might do the trick. He gripped his rifle firmly, took a deep breath, and sprinted from his cover to Luis’s aid.

Flashes from Alex’s rifle struck like lightning as he focused the concentration of every bullet he fired into the cluster of pipes around the explosive the sentries were blatantly standing next to. The sights of his rifle bounced around the target over fifty yards away as Alex tried to steady himself on his sprint over to Luis.

Just before he made it to Luis, with bullets whizzing past him and the burn in his muscles, along with the line of concentration in his mind, reaching a fever pitch, the rifle and his arm went rigid, lining perfectly with the pipe right next to the patch of gray explosive just above the heads of the Class 3s. It was only a single bullet, but it was perfectly projected, and when it impacted the pipe, an explosion of pressure ignited the C-4, and the explosion that followed wiped out both sentries, and a volatile mixture of steel, fire, gas, and fuel flew into the air as pipes and support beams collapsed, burying what was left of the sentries in a metal tomb.

Alex grabbed Luis and propped his left arm over his shoulder. “This place is rigged to blow. We need to get the hell out of here.”

Both men hobbled forward, with Alex supporting the bulk of Luis’s weight. Alex kept his eye out for any sentry who might have tried to follow him, but he knew most of them had already evacuated the area, waiting for the final call from the two sentries left behind, who were now buried under a mound of steel. Once the other Class 3s realized what happened, they’d detonate the rest of the charges and crumble the entire compound to nothing but bits of dust.

Whoever wasn’t dead, but wounded, was still where they’d left them by the conversion unit. There were over twenty men who were barely holding on to their lives. There was no way any of them would be able to make it out of here on foot, and reinforcements were still who knows how far away.

“Wait here with your men,” Alex said, easing Luis down for him to rest. Luis winced, still clutching his shoulder, which had yet to properly clot from the bullet wound.

“What are you doing?” Luis asked.

“The trucks are still parked on the perimeter wall.”

“You won’t have enough time. You’d have to drive all the way around to the front entrance to get inside.”

Alex grabbed a few of the spare claymores and firing wire the soldiers had brought with them. “I’ll make my own entrance.” Scraping the bottom of the well for whatever energy was left, Alex sprinted back through the container fields. He wasn’t sure how much time remained, but every second wasted was one more for the sentries to blow the refinery.

Without breaking stride, Alex catapulted himself over the wall and immediately collapsed to his knees on the other side, where he reached for the claymores. He plugged the wires into the fuse wells and planted the tiny, pronged feet into the dirt and nestled them right by the wall. He unrolled the wiring one hundred feet, covered his ears, and then hit the detonator switch.

Chunks of rock, concrete, and earth blasted into the air and rained down in hail-sized balls. The resulting gap was barely enough for the width of the truck, but Alex fired up the engine and barreled through. He kept the accelerator pressed to the floor and weaved around the different structures and piping, at times almost tipping the truck to its side from his speed and sharp turns.

Alex slammed on the brakes and the tires screeched to a stop right in front of the group of wounded soldiers. Those who had enough strength to at least carry themselves to the back of the transport immediately did so, while also trying to help their brothers-in-arms to safety.

“C’mon, c’mon, we gotta go!” Alex said, helping one of the soldiers into the back of the truck. Once everyone was loaded, Alex jumped behind the wheel, with Luis riding in the passenger seat next to him.

A cloud of black smoke ejected from the tailpipe as Alex turned around and headed back toward the wall. He wasn’t sure how far out the Class 3s placed the bombs, but he wanted to put as much distance between them and the explosions as he could.

The first explosive sounded from deep within the refinery, most likely centered in the distillation center, which triggered a chain reaction that pursued Alex with a fiery obsession that only took a few seconds to catch up with him, culminating in the tanks around him exploding.

Alex swerved the truck hard right, then left, then right, dodging the random detonations. He was driving through a minefield, and there was no way to know where the next blast would occur.

The gap in the wall was in sight, and the heat from the blasts around them cooked the inside of the vehicle. Alex sped between two containers that detonated simultaneously, sending vibrations through the truck and shattering the glass along with his eardrums. The containers cracked open, which exposed the fuel inside and ignited from the incendiary blast, triggering another massive explosion that caused the top canopy of the truck to catch fire.

“Hang on!” Alex said, gripping the steering wheel tightly as the gap in the wall grew closer, and seemingly smaller than it had before. Alex lined up the truck as best he could, and as the five-foot-wide truck passed through the five-and-a-half-foot-wide hole, Alex could hear the scrape of concrete against metal as the left side of the truck skidded across the wall’s jagged edge with barely enough space to make it through.

Alex slammed on the brakes and quickly got out to help the wounded soldiers out of the burning truck before it consumed them. The explosions from the refinery continued to spread, as secondary explosions, caused from exposed pipes, gasses, and fuel, sent the refinery up in flames and smoke.

That refinery was the source where millions of gallons of crude oil were converted into usable fuel every year. It had taken years to construct that facility, and in one fell swoop, Gordon had leveled it to the ground in less than sixty seconds. That’s all it took. The burning refinery in front of Alex told him one thing: Gordon knew he was going to lose, and he was going to bring down everything around him.