by Steven Bird
Before he could react, a hand reached from behind the door, grasping him by the throat with a raspy voice saying, “Well, well... Daddy is finally home. Looks like you’re a little too late, Daddy,” the voice said with a dark chuckle as the greasy, unkempt, and rotten-toothed man emerged into Jessie’s view. The smell of body odor and foul, rotten breath overwhelmed him.
Reaching for his Colt in a fit of absolute rage, Jessie yelled, “You, son-of-a-bitch!” as he cocked the hammer with his thumb while shoving the barrel into the man’s forehead.
“Jessie! No! It’s me!” T. R. said sheepishly as he watched the cylinder of the old Colt rotate as Jessie’s thumb pulled the hammer back into the cocked position. Looking into Jessie’s eyes and seeing the rage of a madman, he once again said, “It’s me... it’s me, man. It’s your turn. That’s all.”
His eyes regaining their focus, Jessie felt his finger begin to apply pressure on the trigger as he saw T. R.’s face come into view. Quickly pulling the gun off T. R.’s forehead. Jessie could see him shivering with fear. Looking around the room, regaining his composure and collecting his thoughts, Jessie said, “Sorry,” as he wiped a tear from his eye.
“Hey, man, are you okay?” T. R. asked.
“Yeah. Yeah, I'm all right,” Jessie said as he attempted to shrug off his emotions. The dream feeling so real to him, both the love of his family and the memories of his tragic loss sending his mind into a dark and violent spiral. “What, what is it?”
“You said to wake you in two hours,” T. R. replied. “It’s that time. I just came over to wake you. Sorry if I startled you.”
“Have you ever felt like you had finally moved on from something, releasing the pain, only to have it haunt you and pierce your heart yet again? I guess clinging to the pain can be a good thing,” Jessie added as he avoided eye contact with T. R. “Pain reminds you of reality. In this world, it’s good to keep the reality of things right in front of you. There’s no room for weakness here. None at all. Weakness is how people like Peronne gain power over the rest of us. How many tragedies has Peronne caused? How many families have lost loved ones? How many children were taken? No, there’s no room for weakness, here.”
Standing up and dusting himself off, Jessie said, “Enough of that. Get some sleep while you still can,” as he walked over to the small, oval window on the garage door, taking his post for the next two hours.
As T. R. lay in the darkest corner of the room attempting to fall asleep, Jessie gazed out the small, dirty window, seeing only the movement of the tree branches as they blew with the gentle breeze. The courthouse itself sat back from the road approximately fifty yards on the other side of Avenue C, with its decorative trees and shrubbery being overgrown to the point that details of the building itself were hard to see.
After about a half-hour, Jessie heard T. R. snort and begin to snore. Finally, he’s asleep, he thought as he looked over to see T. R.’s hat over his face, with his arm behind his head for a pillow. Hearing the sound of a vehicle approaching from the west to the east down Avenue C, Jessie’s attention was once again directed out the garage door window as he watched one of the desert tan painted SUV’s arrive in front of the courthouse, now making two vehicles total.
Observing for several minutes, he saw two officers exit the courthouse, climb into the first SUV, and drive away, heading back to the west from where the second vehicle came. Looking at his watch, Jessie wondered to himself, shift change?
After approximately ten more minutes of watching and waiting, Jessie heard a rumble from the east. Picking up an old, empty oil bottle, he tossed it at T. R., striking him on the leg, startling him awake. T. R. quickly sat up, reached for his rifle, and said, “Wha... what? What is it?”
“Something’s up,” Jessie said, staring out the window. “Something big is headed this way.”
Scurrying to his feet, T. R. joined Jessie by the window and began nervously looking about. Unable to see adequately to the east from the small window, Jessie whispered, “Sounds like a big diesel engine to me.” Pausing to listen more carefully, he added, “Tracks.”
“What?” T. R. asked, seeking clarification of Jessie’s statement.
“It’s a tracked vehicle. Peronne doesn’t have tanks, too, does he?” Jessie asked sarcastically.
“No, just regular street vehicles,” replied T. R.
As the squeaks, clacks, and moans of metallic tracks and a diesel engine drew near, an old, rust-covered Caterpillar D5 dozer came into view. “Holy hell,” Jessie said. “Is that Jack?”
“Sure looks like it,” T. R. replied.
“Better get ready. It looks like the show is about to start.”
As the dozer passed in front of the garage, Jack pulled back hard on the right steering lever, locking up the right track and sharply pivoting the dozer to turn to the right. He then opened up the throttle, lowered the blade slightly, and angled the six-way blade all the way to the left, exposing the right corner of the large, U-shaped blade.
Adjusting his path and blade height, Jack aimed the corner of the angled blade at one of the lower, steel-covered basement windows. Just as bullets began bouncing off of the dozer from a window on the main floor of the building, he jumped free of the machine and dove behind one of the trees on the courthouse lawn for cover.
Just as Jessie started to say something, he noticed the impact of bullets striking the courthouse as if to provide cover for Jack, as he would otherwise be pinned down and alone on the courthouse lawn.
“He’s not alone,” Jessie said, “Let’s go.”
With a nod in the affirmative, Jessie and T. R. watched as the corner of the dozer blade struck the steel-reinforced basement window, shattering the block foundation, knocking the large, steel plates into the basement. The dozer, now unmanned with its diesel engine still running, began to churn its tracks into the dirt, now firmly up against the immoveable, thick masonry foundation of the nearly one-hundred-year-old structure.
Rushing across the street, Jessie made his way to the police SUV parked alongside Avenue C. Once in position, he motioned for T. R. to rally on him as someone continued to pound the courthouse with a high powered rifle from afar, keeping the shooter on the main floor of the building at bay. Joining Jessie behind the SUV, T. R. said, “What’s the plan?”
“We’ve gotta move quick,” Jessie shouted over the gunfire and the sound of the still roaring diesel engine. “Backup should be here anytime. We need to make entry before they get here and shoot us in the back while doing so. We’ll never make it inside taking fire from both directions.”
“I can start this thing,” T. R. said, referring to the desert tan Chevy Suburban SUV. “There is always an extra key in the ashtray for emergencies.”
“Check it out,” Jessie said as he looked to Jack’s position.
Climbing inside the Suburban from the passenger’s side door, T. R. fumbled around, finding the key while keeping his head down low. He shoved the key into the ignition from across the vehicle, turned it, and the engine came to life. Slipping back out of the Suburban, he motioned for Jessie to join him as they both climbed inside.
Signaling to Jack, it appeared as if Jack relayed what was going on to someone via a small, hand-held radio.
“Put this thing between Jack and the building,” Jessie shouted. “Then get the hell out and up against the wall so that the main floor shooter can’t get a line on you without exposing himself to our guardian angel. That’ll give Jack cover so that he can make a move as well.”
“Roger that!” T. R. said as he put the Suburban into gear, released the parking brake, and began speeding toward the building, bouncing over the curb and tearing across the grass toward Jack.
Arriving at Jack’s position, Jessie slipped out the passenger’s side door and moved alongside the rear of the SUV, joining up with Jack. As T. R. made a run for the masonry foundation of the building, Jessie said, “It’s about time you got here,” shouting over the sound of the dozer.
&nb
sp; “I was thinking the same thing,” Jack replied. “If you guys hadn’t made it here; I’d be screwed when their backup arrives. Speaking of which, there they come,” he said, pointing toward the west as another SUV sped toward them from a distance.
“Cover. Moving,” Jack said into the radio as the cadence of long-range fire on the building intensified, allowing both him and Jessie the opportunity to make their move, joining T. R. alongside the foundation of the building.
Patting T. R. on the shoulder, Jessie pointed toward the approaching SUV and shouted, “No time. Gotta move. Cover our entrance, then follow.”
With a nod in the affirmative, T. R. worked his way to the dozer’s blade as the tracks churned ominously into the dirt, the blade still wedged firmly into the large window opening with the steel shutters dangling from their damaged hinges. T. R. couldn’t help but think of how bad the timing would be if the dozer suddenly found traction as they worked their way through the opening. Thank God this concrete foundation is several feet thick, he thought.
Seeing T. R. nod to him that he was ready, Jessie said, “Let’s go!” as he and Jack made their move.
Firing a few shots inside to clear the way, T. R. turned his attention to the approaching SUV that slid sideways as it made an aggressive turn onto the courthouse lawn, barreling toward them at a high rate of speed. Opening fire on the SUV’s windshield with his AR-15, focusing on the driver’s side, but spreading his shots across the entire width of the windshield, the SUV slid to a stop as return fire began to erupt through the shattered safety glass. As the high-speed projectiles began exploding off the masonry foundation all around him, T. R. felt a tug on his leg as Jessie urged him inside. Turning and diving into the window, T. R. narrowly avoided a barrage of bullets that peppered the location where he had crouched only seconds before.
“What do we have?” T. R. asked.
“Nothing yet,” Jessie replied. “If there is a minimum of two officers in the building, we have to assume the shooter is still above us on the main floor. If Rosa is being held down here in the basement, like you said, the other is probably down here.”
Jack spoke up and said, “Look, he knows the building best,” gesturing toward T. R. while talking directly to Jessie. “Take him with you to clear the way. I’ll keep our buddies on the lawn at bay as best I can.”
Turning to fire out of the basement window, Jack emptied the remaining contents of his AR15’s thirty-round magazine into the disabled SUV, momentarily halting the return fire. With his shots keeping the occupants of the vehicle at bay, Jessie and T. R. began working their way down the dark hallway, illuminated only by the light shining through the opening made by the dozer.
Motioning for T. R. to take the point position, Jessie held his AR-10 at the high ready position, while following T. R. down the left side of the hallway.
With barely enough light to see in the dark and musty basement, with even the slightest sound echoing off the thick concrete walls, T. R. motioned for Jessie to hold his position as they approached a door on the left side of the hallway. Hearing Jack shout, “Hurry up, guys!” from down the hallway, T. R. reached out to the lever-style doorknob, rotated it downward, and pushed the door open as it swung to the inside of the room. His heart raced as he quickly reaffirmed his grip on his AR15.
Taking a deep breath, T. R. stepped out from the wall and sliced-the-pie around the corner of the door, looking through the sights of his rifle as he checked for threats in the room. Stepping back toward the wall, he signaled to Jessie that he was unsure of the situation. “It’s too dark,” he whispered.
“Gotta clear it,” Jessie responded. “If we keep working our way down the hall, and someone is in there, we could get shot in the back. You’re gonna have to suck it up and make entry. I’d rather risk getting shot in the front while my sights are on target than risk getting shot in the back. You go low and I’ll go high. On my signal.”
Nodding that he understood, T. R. took another deep breath, crouched down with his rifle at the low ready and waited for Jessie’s signal. Feeling a pat on his shoulder, he rushed into the room with Jessie following close behind.
Entering the room tucked in tight behind T. R., Jessie flipped on his weapon-mounted flashlight and quickly scanned the room, momentarily extinguishing it while changing his position. Flicking it back on and scanning the room once again, he saw what appeared to be rows of metal shelving containing old, archived court documents and other such administrative materials. After searching each row of shelving, Jessie motioned for T. R. to continue down the hallway.
~~~~
As Jack worked to keep the officers in the SUV at bay, he saw two more vehicles approaching at high rates of speed from both the east and the west. Ah, hell... he thought, knowing he was about to be outgunned, even with his position of cover. “Hurry up, guys!” he shouted.
Seeing one of the SUV’s stop just shy of the courthouse, he watched as it changed direction and drove around behind the building via a side street. The other SUV then made a run for the men he had been holding back with suppressing fire. Turning his attention to the charging vehicle, Jack began to receive fire from his previous targets of interest, forcing him to take cover below the masonry foundation of the building.
Taking a quick glance and then ducking back behind cover, he noticed the men had now joined up, and were advancing on his position using bulletproof SWAT-style shields to make their move on the building. Checking his small, sling-style pack, Jack realized that with only two magazines of ammunition remaining, he couldn’t maintain an effective resistance much longer.
Just then, one of the men advancing on him fell forward with a sudden impact, causing the others to scatter as they realized they were facing a threat to their rear as well. Taking only a few steps, a second man fell face down to the ground, lifeless, taking a direct hit in the back while the other two of the four escaped, running out of sight and around the building.
That’s my girl, Jack thought to himself with a smile.
~~~~
Having worked their way down the dark hallway, clearing each room as they went, Jessie and T. R. arrived at the final door at the end of the hall. Quietly creeping up to the door, Jessie put his finger to his lips to signal T. R. to remain silent while he attempted to listen for any signs that the room was occupied.
Unable to hear anything coming from the room, Jessie communicated his intentions to T. R. with a simple nod as he reached for the handle. Damn it, he thought, realizing the door was locked.
Feeling around the door in the near total darkness, not wanting to give himself away with his light just yet, Jessie determined that like the others, the door opened to the inside, swinging inward and to the right. Motioning for T. R. to follow, the two men slipped back down the hallway and entered one of the previously cleared rooms.
“What’s the plan?” T. R. whispered.
Ignoring him for a moment while he looked around the room for something of use, Jessie hurried over to a large, metal storage shelf on castering wheels, and said, “This thing weighs a ton. It’ll do,” as he began to push it toward the door leading to the hallway.
“Battering ram?” T. R. queried.
“Yep,” Jessie replied. “If we can’t sneak in, we’ll have to make a slightly more dramatic entry. Once we get into the room, I’ll break left, and you break right, each of us covering our respective sides of the room. If you’ve got a better idea, speak up now. We’ve got no time to mess around, though. Jack can’t hold them off forever.”
“Roger that,” T. R. replied as the two men pushed the paper and office supply laden shelf on wheels into the hallway.
Reaching the center of the hall, Jessie looked at T. R. and said, “Here goes. If the door doesn’t open, this is gonna hurt.”
With that, the two men began pushing the heavy cart, getting off to a slow start at first, with speed and momentum building as they ran behind it, pushing from both sides. With their speed now up to a jog, Jessie and T. R. br
aced themselves as they reached the door, smashing it off its hinges, violently entering the room.
Flicking on their weapon-mounted lights, Jessie and T. R. dove to each side, scanning the room for threats. Hearing a woman’s scream, Jessie looked to the corner, where he saw the woman he assumed to be Rosa, gagged and handcuffed, sitting on the floor with fear in her eyes.
“It’s okay,” Jessie said as he reached out with his hand to comfort her. Staring into her eyes, he could see that her gaze was transfixed on something behind him.
Almost immediately, Jessie heard the concussion of a rifle blast, followed by a flash of light and an impact knocking him forward to the floor.
Disoriented, Jessie felt the weight of a man on top of him, along with a warm, wet sensation soaking through his clothes.
“Jessie!” T. R. shouted as he ran to his side, pulling the body of one of Peronne’s men off him.
Quickly rolling over, Jessie’s heart raced as he came to his senses, realizing that T. R. had shot a threat that was hiding in the shadows, the body falling into Jessie and knocking him to the ground.
With their ears ringing from the supersonic crack of T. R.’s 5.56 NATO round being discharged in the confines of the small, basement room, Jessie ran to the woman’s side as he heard T. R. say, “It’s her. It’s Rosa,” through the pain and ringing in his ears.
“Keys?” Jessie shouted, turning to look at T. R.
Reaching into his pocket and kneeling down beside Rosa, T. R. unlocked the handcuffs and removed the gag from around her mouth. Looking at T. R. in fear and confusion, recognizing him as one of Peronne’s men, Rosa started to scream as T. R. held his hands up and said, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m not with them anymore. We came to get you out of here.”
Looking at Jessie and then back to T. R., Rosa reluctantly took T. R.’s hand and stood up, trusting what he said for the moment.
