Time/Date Error (Damned of the 2/19th-Book Six) - Done

Detritus of a Violent Past

I moved up to the front of the cockpit and used the crowbar to pry aside the floor plate, sighing with relief at what was sitting there.

A heavy plastic  box that I knew had Farraday shielding inside. It had been used to hold one of the massive 80886 computers used by Kill Shop before me and the rest of Actual had destroyed them. I pulled the box out, grunting at the pain in my hip and ribs, and dragged it toward the rear of the cockpit. On either side were two more boxes, and I hauled them out too, then hauled out the duffle-bag with my last name and last four stenciled on it. Finally there was a rucksack with a waterproof bag attached to the bottom where a sleeping pad was wrapped around an extreme cold weather sleeping bag.

When I popped open the duffle I sighed in relief.

A full battle-rattle kit.

...every goddamn winter we end up under geared, under supplied, and hanging on a razor thin edge. I'm goddamn tired of it. We stock this shit, we cache this shit, and the next time this shit goes down, we'll be geared to kill anything on this mountain...

...but we need more than just winter shit, we all know that if we end up fighting it out with Russia, we're going to be the ones fighting in the fallout. Henley would be stupid not to use us. We pack this shit as not only a winter cache, we pack it to fucking fight World War III...

The clothing was dry, and more than just uniforms, two sets of extreme cold weather gear, food, a medical kit, and chemical warfare kit. I sat down on the rucksack and put my face in my hands, trying not to let everything overwhelm me. On the top was a note, written in strong even writing. "I love you Ant we'll make it through this baby" was still there from where Nancy shoved it into my ruck.

...goddamn you, Nancy Nagle, for leaving me alone when I need you so bad...

The feeling of betrayal, of loss, tried to wash over me, tried to pull me down, and I pushed it back, pushed it down, and slammed an iron door on it. The lizard jumped up and down on the metal plate on his floor until it snapped into place. He ran a quick bad-weld with a hand held torch while I turned my attention to more important things. I popped the latch on the heavy container normally reserved  for computer equipment and stared at everything inside of it.

When I'd taken over Atlas we had no idea the extant of the site or what had been left laying around. One of the previous NCOICs out there had been authorized an armory and we'd found the ruined the mini-bunker the second week out there. The small door had to be pulled off with Goliath, a big 100 ton tracked forklift, and most of the stuff inside was ruined, but we'd pulled out enough hardware to arm a platoon with gear.

We'd cut foam, added moisture absorbing packets taken out of electronics, and layered the weapons. There was an old XM-21 7.62mm NATO sniper rifle stripped all the way down and packed in after being covered in Cosmoline. What I wanted was right on the top.

Another pair of M1911A1 .45 ACP, an M-3 9mm grease gun, and on the second layer old M-14 battle rifles and two M-79 40mm grenade launchers. There were a couple of XM-16E3 rifles in there, but they didn't work worth a shit in my hands, I'd be more likely to shoot my own dick off.

I'd grown up using either a lever-action .30-.30 or an old M-14 for hunting, and I was a crack shot with either of them.

It would be nice to fire a weapon and actually hit something for a change.

I set aside the pair of pistols, the SMG, grenade launcher, and the battle rifle to clean, closed the case, and opened the second case.

Ammunition. Including 40mm grenades and a pair of bandoleers.