A long patrol

Marotti led the team out into a suburb on the outer perimeter of the Des Moines control zone. It took them nearly two solid hours to get into the field. Mark was surprised that they had headed out so far, but Marotti seemed to know his way. They moved past several defensive zones where men patrolled and searched houses, stepping in at one point to render assistance. A unit was sweeping a house and Mark's team split up and posted at two rear exits, picking up a pair of women who were overcome quite easily as the other unit collected the third in the house. Marotti decided to leave them with the assisted unit and moved his men out again.

When they finally became part of the sweep line, Mark was surprised to see how far out they were. They were on the very edge of the suburb, overlooking a wide stretch of scorched land to the south. Marotti began casually moving the team out beyond the line, not moving from house to house but walking down the middle of the street. Mark felt highly uncomfortable, but he wasn't in command, so he did as the rest of the unit did. He kept his machete close at hand, though.

Marotti finally ordered them to begin sweeping a small shopping center. Mark didn't think the four man unit was nearly enough for the task, but perhaps, he reflected, they were just resecuring an area they thought to be clear. It was a familiar enough task, though rare at an active front-line post. They split into pairs and began leap-frogging through the shops, checking each lot before moving to the next.

Mark and Chavez moved into a vandalized store that once sold a variety of small devices. None of them did anything, as far as he could see. Many were smashed on the floor. They cleared the open front area and moved toward the back.

As they came around a shelf, a woman leaped at them. She was alone and swung a length of floppy plastic pipe. Mark ducked easily beneath the slow swing and tossed his machete behind him, holding on to his baton. This was an easy take. As she recovered from her swing, he watched her, looking more carefully. She wasn't weighted down, but her swings were impossibly slow; it was as if she wasn't even really trying to connect with him. For that matter, even if she had, the most that plastic would give him was a bruise. She charged at him and swung again, and he moved easily out of the way. She crashed into a shelf and fell to the floor. Before she could rise, Chavez stepped in and pinned her down. She twisted almost half-heartedly on the ground beneath him, but he held her easily long enough to tie her wrists and ankles together. They gagged her and left her there until they finished sweeping the store. It was empty.

Outside, Marotti and Wasajski had brought in two of their own. They were likewise tied, but one of them struggled weakly and futilely against the cords. Mark brought up the ease of the captures with Marotti.

"It's nothing, Sgt. Cooms. They're just women. Weak and slow. That's why the four of us are still fighting, right? Just take 'em down and resecure our lines. No worries." Marotti moved off into the next section, leaving Mark and Chavez to investigate a large store beyond them.