by Akart, Bobby
He screamed in agony, much to the delight of the marauders. His eyes opened long enough for him to see one woman stomping on his chest, the force of the blows driving the nails deeper into his back.
Frankie mustered the strength to knock her leg away from him, and he escaped the bed of nails by rolling through them to the other side. Bloodied and in pain, he got to his feet, wobbly from the onslaught.
“Hold on!” a man’s voice shouted from behind the attackers. “Yeah, just hold on one minute. I can’t believe my eyes!”
Frankie was stunned by the attack, and with the warmer temperatures, sweat mixed with blood dripped into his eyes, obscuring his vision. He tried to wipe his face so he could make eye contact with the person who’d stopped the attack.
The man’s voice was closer. “Scallone? Is that you? Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise. Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Officer Frank Scallone with the Philly SWAT unit. You’re a little lost, aren’t you, Scallone?”
Frankie furiously wiped the fluids from his eyes and managed to get one eye free to focus on the man who recognized him.
He’d arrested a lot of people during his time on the force, and he couldn’t necessarily remember every one of them. Joseph Jose Acuff, also known as Chepe, was not one of them. The famed Antifa leader had harassed some Marines and was a high-value target of the administration for his anarchist activities. In the moment, Frankie realized that Chepe hadn’t changed his ways.
“Nice to see you, Acuff.” It was an odd way to address the man whose cohorts had just begun to beat Frankie to death, but he thought he needed to do something to change the direction of the battle that he was sure to lose.
Chepe and his fellow anarchists laughed uproariously at the bloodied man’s casual attitude. “Yeah, I guess it is, considering only one eye seems to be working.” This drew more laughter.
“So, Chepe, did I make a wrong turn, or what?” Frankie continued to take a mollifying approach to the situation, hoping that if it worked, his life would be spared.
“Well, you ain’t in Philly anymore, Toto,” said Chepe, who was warming up to the playful banter. “Let’s just say we’re two lost souls who’ve crossed paths again.”
“How do you know him, Chepe?” asked one of the men, who’d circled behind Frankie.
“Oh, we’re old pals, right, Scallone? Why don’t you answer that question for my friend?”
Frankie hesitated and then he quickly came up with a plan that most likely saved his life. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.
“Well, when I was a cop, we got an order from Washington to arrest Chepe. I didn’t wanna do it, but you know how it is with the feds. You can’t tell the man no.”
“You arrested Chepe?” asked a woman to Frankie’s left.
“I think he deserves a beatdown for that!” shouted another.
Frankie’s body stiffened as he prepared to be attacked. He wiped the blood and sweat off his face again, so he now had full vision. He was surrounded by a dozen people, some armed with guns and others carrying steel plumbing pipes. With his back in excruciating pain, he’d never get far if he tried to run.
“Seriously, Chepe. That’s not me anymore. I left Philly SWAT. I couldn’t stand to be associated with racist guys like that Will Hightower. Yeah, sure, he got reprimanded, but he kept his pension. I mean, what kind of justice is that? It sickened me so much that I joined the ACLU as a consultant. They needed to know how the Philly PD worked so they could do right by the people, you know what I mean?”
Frankie held his breath, as Chepe didn’t respond immediately. “Yeah, I know those guys. How’s Sharif doing. Is he still the ED?”
Frankie furrowed his brow but tried not to let on what he was thinking. Chepe was clearly referring to the executive director of the ACLU in Philadelphia, but the man’s name was Reggie Stafford. Stafford had been in the news a lot recently as a spokesman for illegal immigrants seeking federal child welfare benefits.
“Um, I don’t know anybody named Sharif. The fellow I work with is Reggie Stafford. He used to be one of their chief litigators and worked his way up. Who’s Sharif?”
Frankie had successfully called Chepe’s bluff and passed the test. “Oh yeah, wrong ACLU. Reggie’s a good man.”
“What do you want us to do with him, Chepe?” asked one of his men.
Frankie looked around at the people who surrounded him to see if they’d relaxed so that he’d have an opening. The sound of a vehicle approaching helped move the stalemate along.
“Nothing,” replied Chepe. “You guys go hit that other car but try not to tear it up like this one. We need more transportation. I’ll have a chat with Scallone.”
One of Chepe’s lieutenants took control of the group. “All right, everyone. Get into positions.”
As they scurried off to ambush the next car, Chepe was left alone with Frankie. He approached him cautiously, holding his hand on the grip of his pistol, which was holstered in his belt. He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of his bandannas, which had a skull and crossbones screen printed on it.
“Here,” he said as he tossed it to Frankie. “Clean yourself up and let’s talk.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The Varnadore Building
Uptown Charlotte, North Carolina
Frankie rode in the backseat of Chepe’s vehicle as the anarchist army in Charlotte returned to their headquarters at the Varnadore Building. Fortunately for Frankie, Chepe didn’t press him further about his make-believe position with the ACLU. Instead, Chepe chose to brag about how he’d beaten the rap laid on him by the Department of Justice. Chepe lit up a marijuana cigarette and shared it with Frankie, creating a bond that neither man ever envisioned occurring. Somehow, in a world turned upside down, even former adversaries could set aside the past simply because they were familiar with one another.
After the caravan of newly stolen vehicles returned to the Varnadore Building, Chepe introduced Frankie to a young woman who was the group’s nurse. That evening, she worked her magic on Frankie’s back, making him forget the pain endured by being punctured with dozens of nails. Later, she also made him forget Karen Hightower.
Frankie emerged from the office-turned-bedroom after the woman fell asleep. He overheard Chepe talking with his top lieutenants in a small conference room down the hall. He eased down the hallway to hear better, being careful not to get caught lurking about.
Chepe was leading the conversation. “From what Ollie and Earl have relayed to us, crossing the river, even in the darkness, would be a mistake. There are fallen trees everywhere, and the current is swift this time of year. If just one of our canoes tips over, their sentries could be alerted.”
Another man spoke up. “I don’t think a full-frontal assault will work either. The iron gates appear to be ten feet tall and firmly strapped together with heavy-duty chain. The only way to bust through them with one of our trucks is to hit it full steam. Earl said their security people man the gate twenty-four seven. He thinks the guards carry AKs or, for sure, AR-15s.”
Frankie leaned against the wall and held his breath. It was obvious to him that Chepe was planning an assault on a gated community. However, the descriptions were starting to sound familiar. He considered their words carefully when Chepe continued to speak, interrupting his thoughts.
“That’s why our little trip to Northlake paid off today. We’ve managed to load up all of their extension ladders. That wall is ten feet and spans the entire west and north side of the compound. We’ll take their little castle just like they did in the old days. Drop a ladder onto the wall. Pull one over the other side. And sneak in and conduct our business.”
“The guys said the place is full of women and children, too. Plus, their people are armed. Are we gonna go in there with our guns blazin’, killing everything in sight like that dude did on that island in Norway ten years ago?”
Another man spoke up. “Nah, come on, man. We’re not child murderers. We’ve just go
t a job to do, right, Chepe?”
“That’s right. We’ve got our own firepower, courtesy of our benefactors. If someone gets in our way, then we cut them down. Earl and Ollie have given us several possible locations within the compound where this guy Cortland is staying. We’ll hit them first. If we don’t find him right away, we’ll scare the hell out of their people until they give him up.”
Frankie took a chance. He was convinced, based upon the cursory description and his recollection of the names Ethan had given him during the ride to the Haven from Richmond, that a guy named Cort lived there.
Frankie steadied his nerves and cleared his throat so he could be heard down the hallway. He casually strolled toward the partially opened conference room door, where he was greeted by one of Chepe’s men.
“Sorry, man. Private meeting.”
Frankie responded loud enough for Chepe to hear him. “Um, yeah. I figured that.”
“That’s okay,” said Chepe. “Come on in, Frankie.”
Chepe’s lieutenant opened the door and Frankie entered the room. The smell of marijuana filled the air, and several remnants of smoked joints occupied an ashtray in the middle of the table.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt. I needed a little break from Nurse Goodlove. Man, she really knows how to fix a guy up.”
The men, and a young woman, all enjoyed a laugh. “Oh yeah, we’ve all been treated by Nurse Goodlove, except Maggie here.”
“Yeah, no thanks,” the woman mumbled.
Chepe gestured toward an empty chair across from him. “Sit down, Frankie. We’re just winding it up and I thought we’d burn one before we got some rest. My people have a big day tomorrow.”
“Sure. I hadn’t smoked weed for a long time. You know, bein’ a cop and all. We were constantly pee-tested. But after I quit the force, I found myself partaking of the herb, as they say.”
Chepe laughed as he lit the end of a rolled joint. “Man, this stuff is all-natural and legal in most states with a doctor’s script. I don’t know what the big deal is.” He took a deep draw on the marijuana cigarette and handed it to Maggie.
The joint made its way around the table and Frankie took a toke. With all of the marijuana in his system from earlier that evening, taking a deep draw immediately relaxed him and gave him confidence. He decided to speak up. “Chepe, I wanna apologize for something, but I also feel the need to say something.”
“About what?” he asked.
“Well, when I stepped into the hallway to get some air, I overheard you guys talking about what you have planned.”
Two of Chepe’s lieutenants straightened in their chairs and looked at one another and then over at Chepe. He caught their glance and then raised both hands, indicating they should relax.
“Go ahead,” said Chepe.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and tell you something. Before I came to Charlotte today, I was at a place northwest of here, just south of I-40. They call it the Haven. Now, before you say anything, let me describe what I know about it. It’s a big parcel of property, maybe a couple of hundred acres. It has ten-foot walls on one side and a long stretch of river on the other. The single entrance is off the road down a long tree-lined driveway, where an iron gate is located in a slight clearing.”
The room grew silent, but the looks exchanged between Chepe and his people spoke volumes. He took a deep breath and exhaled before reaching for the joint. Everyone stayed silent as Chepe took another draw and filled his lungs with marijuana smoke. Finally, he spoke.
“Frankie, what were you doing there?”
Frankie was past the point of no return. His opportunity to escape was gone, and he had to make a decision as to whether he was all in with these anarchists. He closed his eyes momentarily, and all of the good times he’d shared with Karen flashed through his memory. When he opened them, his nose caught the scent of Nurse Goodlove and the feelings of pleasure he’d experienced that evening as he was taken in by Chepe.
The words spilled out of him as he relayed to Chepe everything he knew about the Haven and its residents, knowing full well that he might have just sentenced Karen and her kids to death.
Part IV
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Haven Barn
The Haven
It was early on Saturday morning and HB1 was abuzz with activity. In addition to the morning meeting, Tyler was meeting with the patrols, the drone kids were beginning their first full day on the job, and Echo was organizing a team to fortify their barriers at the points where the ten-foot security walls met the Henry River.
Tyler was handing out emergency trauma kits to be shared by the patrol units. Each day, just before the morning meeting of the top security personnel of the Haven, the night shift came off duty and turned their gear over to the morning shift. Tyler had created fanny packs with essential trauma supplies in the event someone was badly injured in the farthest reaches of the compound’s perimeter.
Each kit contained certain basics like gloves, bandages, and methods to clean wounds. Using the Haven’s vast supply of medical supplies, and the camouflage-pattern fanny packs purchased by Ryan at Big Lots, Tyler added several trauma essentials. Each bag contained a CAT tourniquet, Israeli bandages, a HALO chest seal, padded aluminum splints, ammonia inhalants, and instant ice compress packs. All of these items were designed to provide the injured person immediate treatment until he could arrive to provide medical assistance.
At the Haven, the security team worked in teams of two. Each carried an AR-15 rifle and a sidearm of choice. They also carried chest rigs with backup ammunition, a compact sidearm if they had one, and other tactical gear like pepper spray or a police baton.
While Tyler was giving the evening and morning teams a basic tutorial on how to use the trauma supplies, Alpha was addressing his new charges, who made up his drone Air Force brigade.
During the midnight to morning shift, the drone operators were limited by the number of infrared cameras at their disposal. After the shift change, the number of drones placed into operation usually numbered four at a time, so the compound was divided into quadrants. As the batteries were used up on these four units, the other four would be charging and swapped out as necessary. With this schedule, the Haven was almost always provided air surveillance except during shift change.
This morning, Alpha was going to deploy four drones so that he could train the kids who’d be handling weekend and after-school shifts. He towered over his weekend team as they stared up at him, hungry for knowledge and excited about the prospect of contributing to the Haven’s security.
“I see two unexpected faces this morning,” he began, staring down at Skylar and Hannah.
Meredith stood close behind them and smiled. “We talked about it, Alpha. All of our kids are prepared to make the sacrifices necessary to protect us. After you spoke with Ethan and his dad last night and agreed to give this young man another chance, we decided Hannah should do her part as well.”
Alpha knelt down in front of Hannah and Skylar. “I have to ask you two a question. Are you doing this because you want to? Or are you joining the drone brigade because you think it’s the right thing to do?”
The two preteen girls answered simultaneously.
“Both!” Then they looked at one another and exchanged high fives, coupled with a giggle.
Alpha smiled at their enthusiasm. “Okay, welcome to the drone team. Here’s the thing, kids. What you will be doing for the Haven is very important. It requires discipline, patience, and focus.
“The discipline requires you to stay in your assigned quadrant. Patience requires you to fly the drone slowly, keeping in mind that you need to watch the grounds and that someone back at Haven House needs to monitor four of these at once. Finally, focus. Don’t get distracted by each other. This is not a game. You’re not down at the video arcade or on the comfort of your sofa back home. Lives are depending on you doing your job properly.”
“Can everybody commit to this?” asked Meredith.
The others responded positively.
“Good,” said Alpha. “For starters, I’m going to put Ethan in charge. There are five of you and we’ll only be operating four drones at a time. At first, Ethan will bounce around, touching base with each of you to answer questions or to check your technique. He was pretty good at it until he went off the reservation.”
“What’s that mean?” asked J.C.
“It means I screwed up,” said Ethan. He looked directly into Alpha’s eyes. “It won’t happen again.”
Alpha nodded and continued. “Throughout the day, we’ll change it up. There will always be a fifth operator who acts as a rover. The rover will check with the other operators continuously to see if they need anything, or to monitor when their batteries have almost lost their charge. This is very important. Before the battery dies, the rover needs to come to the barn and retrieve a fully charged quadcopter and controller. Take these to the drone operator and exchange them out. Okay?”
All the kids voiced their acknowledgment. Alpha gave them a tutorial and enlisted Ethan’s help to show the kids how to connect the devices to the charging stations.
While he did, Meredith pulled Hannah aside. “Honey, I’m very proud of you for stepping up.”
“Thanks, Mom, I wanted to, but I was afraid you’d say no.”
Meredith frowned and shed a tear. “I know. I can be a protective mother hen sometimes. We live in a new world now, Hannah, and it’s time for you to grow up. I guess I wanted to keep you as my darling little princess forever.”
