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the fluid situation enough that Bo recognized they had an opportunity. He leaned down into his vehicle’s hatch and yelled at the crew, “Lay down suppressive fire. As soon as I’m through the gap, give me a minute or two and then keep working on the wall. If we can get one of the heavy assault vehicles up this hill and through the wall, great. Otherwise, just keep their infantry off our ass.”

Bo didn’t wait for a response. He reached for his M-16 and jumped out of the vehicle’s cupola onto the top of the shoddy armor plating. At this particular moment, the irony of his class motto at Fort Knox—“Death before Dismount”—almost made him smile in the midst of the battle.

Bo sprinted up the slope toward the ragged gap in the outer glacis. Legs burning, he pushed hard, running through it and joining up with the infantry on the other side.

They’d been able to create quite a beachhead inside the city itself. No organized defense or hardpoints stood in their path. The militia were scattered among the deserted streets. Bo heard the whump of several mortars launching in rapid succession. Rounds impacted a corner of the glacis where at least one heavy rocket launcher was emplaced. There was a tremendous secondary explosion from the top of the wall that shook the ground and threw dust and dirt everywhere. Davis and his mortars were doing a great job.

Bo pressed further into the city. As he came around a building that flanked a major thoroughfare, Bo found Lieutenant Cook with two squads of indigenous infantry pressed against a wall, preparing to charge into the flank of the retreating militia.

“Lieutenant Cook, report.”

Cook grinned. “My scout vehicles breached the gate without casualties. I left them inside the gate to swat down some pretty strong resistance. They’re pushing the militia back. I’ve got the mortars taking out the weapons up top, and I’ve sent an indig squad to clear the top of the wall from the west. The enemy are falling back everywhere, sir. As soon as our vehicles come into view, we can swing out ahead of their militia from the side and flank ’em. If we do that, though, they’ll either surrender or fall apart completely. We just have to hit them at the right point, sir.”

“Outstanding,” Bo replied.

Again, there was a rapid succession of mortar launches, and another corner of the upper glacis felt the brunt of multiple impacts. The whinnies on the parapet’s walkway charged further west with their riders firing. They met no resistance.

From the east, Stewart rode his bounding whinnie down from the wall’s midpoint. The other riders pushed their whinnies further west, driving the fleeing militia before them. However, Stewart swerved aside toward Bo. “We’ve got the eastern wall secured, sir. Mortars are hitting other weapon emplacements. We can see friendlies moving east up there.”

We’ve secured the wall. Now for the militia.

“Time for phase two,” Bo said. “Tell Fahey to release the cavalry.”

Stewart spoke into the radio. “California, this is Fastlane. Relay to guidons, phase two initiated. Release the cavalry.”

“Roger, Fastlane. Break.” Fahey dropped off the frequency for five seconds. “Guidons, guidons, guidons, this is Hotel California. Initiate Phase Two and release the cavalry. Contact Fastlane on station.”

Given their position, Bo and the others couldn’t hear the response. A wave of gunfire came from the northern wall. Bo peered around the corner of the building and saw the ragtag militia. He expected them to be moving straight to the east. Instead, they appeared to be moving north toward the central part of the city and the open space of the bazaar.

“They’re moving toward the tunnels. There must be another way out through them.” Bo glanced up at Stewart. “I thought you guys were holding the main one from the other side.”

“You needed us over here,” Stewart said. “They’ve collapsed the central tunnel. I figured they were more concerned with fighting you off than anything in the cache site. We couldn’t get through and then the whinnies got excited and took off, sir. All we could do was stay in the saddle.”

From deep inside the city came the steady rattle of machine gun fire. Bo recognized it as one of the M-60 machine guns, most likely from Bravo Section.

Dammit.

“What did you find on the top of the plateau? Was there some way into the city?”

Stewart nodded. “We found a staircase, sir. The militia did not try to replace their guards.”

“Who’d you leave up there?”

Stewart replied, “Morton’s entire fire team, sir. But they went down into the city. I sent that through Fahey.”

“I didn’t catch that.” Bo shook it off. “Doesn’t matter. So, if they’re headed into the city, that’s Booker firing the 60.” He quickly did the math. Morton and eight men had descended tunnel-stairs somewhere in the city and now, with just that one machine gun and their rifles, they were holding back as many as four hundred militia who were determined to escape through the tunnels.

This ain’t gonna end well.

“Any ideas?”

Stewart replied, “We can’t try to take the whole tunnel complex, sir. That’s suicide.”

Bo nodded. He saw Cook glance up at Stewart. The two newly commissioned officers traded a long look, and both smiled.

“What are you two thinking?”

“Hounds to hunters, sir,” Cook replied and then glanced at Stewart. “Meet ya in the middle, Johnny.” Cook turned to his squad and motioned them to move around the corner to the west. They moved so fast Bo didn’t have a chance to ask where they were going. At the same time, Stewart and the other whinnies bounded to the east and were rapidly turning north around a building a hundred meters away.

Bo understood in an instant what they intended to do. Pinching the escaping militia between them, they were hoping for surprise to crumble their hasty defense. If

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