The light of dawn glowed on the horizon and the scout on the radio reported in. “Enemy approaching. It’s the Raider convoy. Two kilometres.”
July turned to Alister. “Get everyone in position,” he said, walking to the edge of the wall and staring over the barren expanse of desert – soon enough this space would be filled with Raiders. “Remember, don’t do a thing unless I give the order. We only get one chance at this.”
A cloud of disturbed sand accompanied the rising sun as the Raider convoy converged down on the tower. From the wall, July glanced at Red-Rock’s first line of defence, a dozen soldiers entrenched and hidden within the outer buildings of the camp. On either side, another dozen marksmen lay hidden along the wall. The courtyard held the remainder of the garrison, ready to support the others, should these negotiations turn violent.
July picked up his ukulele and sat on the wall, slowly strumming the chords to a tune he had heard once and waiting, patiently, as the Raider convoy positioned themselves around the front of the tower. The dust cleared, the sound of truck doors opening and closing, the raiders gathered in a band and Wade was right – makeshift weapons, no more than fifty. July breathed a sigh of relief to see the man who must be Cutlass, their leader, emerge from the group.
Cutlass cupped his hands around his mouth and called up to July. “You there, who’s your leader?”
“You’re looking at him,” July answered. “July Mundane. You must be Cutlass. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“You’re sitting on our tower,” said Cutlass. “Leave, now. No one will get killed.”
“I’ll say the same to you,” July returned. “This tower was built by my people. We intend to keep it.”
“You think I give a fuck about your people?” Cutlass took a step forward and gestured at his men. “We’re fifty strong. We’re well armed and…”
He stopped short as July stood up and glared at him, steadfast eyes showing no fear or panic. Suddenly July’s tone became firm. “I don’t think I made myself clear. Take one more step forward and I will kill you. Are your men prepared to die on your orders?”
Cutlass didn’t respond. July pointed at the man standing next to Cutlass.
“You there! You willing to die for this tower?”
The man looked at Cutlass but didn’t respond.
“That’s what I thought,” July went on. “I think this conversation is over. Attack this tower if you want but it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
Cutlass’ face reddened, and he trembled, burning with rage, but he didn’t advance. Some would consider him a coward but in July’s opinion, strategically, Cutlass made the right call. The Raider’s were facing an unknown enemy who happened to possess an almost impenetrable defensive position, had they attacked the casualties would have been devastating on both sides, and the outcome of the conflict uncertain.
With growing relief, July watched the Raiders enter their vehicles one by one and drive away. Finally, his beating heart could slow down, and he could return to his duties.
Alister caught up with July as he made for the bunker. The old man’s hardened face carried the slightest hint of appraisal masked by the regular shadow of war. “They’ll be back,” he cautioned.
“Of course they will,” July agreed. “But we’ve bought ourselves some time – time to recruit men and buy food and weapons.”
Charlie walked towards the bunker and July stopped her. “Charlie, can I speak to you in private?” They went to one of the room in the bunker where July handed Charlie a slip of paper. “New assignment. This contains the name and instructions.”
Charlie examined the slip of paper with expressionless eyes. “I’ll get it done.”
“The future of the cause depends on the success of this mission. Execute it quickly, and with full discretion.”
She nodded. “Understood.”
Later that day, July appointed a new commander of the Red-Rock garrison and left the men to protect it while he, Alister, and the others returned to Haven. July delivered a speech announcing their victory over the Raiders and the capture of Red-Rock, which was received with thunderous applause. This was followed by a small celebration, a boost for morale, but for July and the council this was no more than another step in achieving their overall objective.
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