"And how are you reacting to that?" Jim asked.
"I plan to kill the bastard at the first opportunity, but that chance hasn't presented itself yet."
"This is the man who wants me dead?" Jim asked.
"Yep. At least he's the one who relayed the message, although I'm not sure if you are a sanctioned mission or a pet project."
"What's the difference?" Hugh asked.
"There's most assuredly a federal program that's been put in place by the acting government to quell the activities of what they’re calling insurgents. They're putting it out there as a matter of national security that people sabotaging comfort camps and power plants are impeding the nation's ability to get back on its feet. I don't know if you've been targeted by that program or if you just somehow showed up on Browning's radar and pissed him off."
"Jim has a special talent for pissing people off," Gary told him.
Jim conceded that with a shrug. "So what did you hope to accomplish by coming over here?"
"For one thing, I hoped to buy myself some time. The longer Browning thinks I'm working for him, the longer he'll put off taking action against me. Once he realizes I'm no longer going to play nicely, I suspect he'll call in a missile strike and probably follow that up with a hit team. He won't want to leave me out there alive working against him. He knows what I'm capable of."
"Which means you have to kill him," Jim stated.
Conor gave a somber nod. "That's exactly what it means, but I don't know if I can do it from here. The last time I saw him was at Oceana Naval Air Station, but he could be anywhere now. Before my boss was killed, I could ring up a chopper, request satellite footage, or even procure a drone. Now I'm effectively hobbled. Unless I can draw Browning into my area of operations, this could be a long, protracted situation."
"And the entire time you're gone, your people are vulnerable," Jim pointed out. "That's something I've struggled with myself."
"My people are badasses and they have a lot of good gear at their disposal, but you're correct. I don't want to leave them alone while I'm running around the country chasing Browning."
"So why did you decide to tell me all this?" Jim asked. "Why didn't you just put a bullet in me and buy yourself some time?"
"That was my plan," Barb admitted.
Jim scowled at her.
"Easy there, my darling little angel," Conor said.
Jim frowned at Conor, uncertain he'd have characterized Barb in exactly the same way. "Not that I'm saying you should have killed me. It just seems like you're in a tough position."
"I am," Conor agreed. "But Browning asked for too much. He wanted you publicly hung in the center of town, then he wanted all of your allies killed to send a message. I wouldn't have lost much sleep over dropping you with a long-range rifle shot, but doing it his way would be a lot of hassle. I've done some hard things in my life. Some of it haunts me to this day. I try not to kill innocents these days though. There are things in my life that I can't atone for, but I'm trying hard not to build up any more bad karma at my age. Besides, it's a bitter pill to swallow that I'd be killing someone I agree with."
Jim considered that comment. "So you're not a big fan of comfort camps either?"
Conor shook his head. "Neither the comfort camps nor tying federal aid to people giving up their rights. That's not the America I came to love."
The thud of hooves on sunbaked dirt made everyone turn and look out the open door. Randi came riding up, her face clouded with worry.
"You find Charlie?" Jim asked.
"No. I looked everywhere."
"He'll come back."
Randi looked doubtful. "I don't know, Jim. He's been struggling lately. He loves this place and he loves us, but he has a hard time controlling his impulses. He doesn't like to be told no."
"I think it's been coming to this.” Hugh ran a hand through his hair. “I think the boy needs a break. We need to let him go. He'll come back when he's ready."
"You good with that, Randi?" Jim asked.
She shrugged but said nothing. There was nothing to say. She turned her horse and rode off in the direction of her house.
"This will be hard on her," said Gary. "She's still not over losing Lloyd, and now Charlie is gone. We're in for a rough ride."
Jim's clueless shrug brought a laugh from Barb. "I love the way men cower in the face of a woman's fury. Bloody cowards."
No one had a response for that. In some ways, they all understood it was true.
39
The Valley
Russell County, Virginia
All of the discussion in the barn proved boring to Barb. She didn't really care about this mission, she didn't care about Browning, nor did she particularly care for Jim Powell. She'd come along because her father needed someone to look after him. As far as she was concerned, it made no difference if they killed these folks or not. They were nothing to her. No one she cared about at all. While her father was interested in making strategic alliances that might be mutually beneficial, Barb wasn't a bridge builder. She wasn't here to make friends.
"I'm going to fetch our horses," she announced, getting to her feet. She couldn't take the storytelling and back-patting a moment longer.
Conor frowned, her interruption catching him in the middle of updating everyone in attendance on the state of the nation. With little access to reliable information, they had only a scant picture of what was going on beyond the confines of their community. There was a lot underway in the larger chess game of global politics and it took a while to summarize it. "Am I boring you, daughter?"
Barb shrugged. "It's not the first time. I'm used to it. Figured it was better for me to get up and do something else than to sit there rolling my eyes and making snarky comments."
Conor waved his fingers at her in a shooing gesture. "Then begone, evil spawn. I'll not have me masterful storytelling disrupted by your disapproving scowl."
Jim and Gary glanced at each other, unsure of what to make of this father/daughter relationship. It was unique, to say the least.
Hugh got to his feet. "Maybe I should go with you."
A range of expressions played over Barb's face. Surprise. Shock. Suspicion. Amusement. "You think I need a man to take care of me, do you?"
Hugh shook his head. "Not at all."
"Then why offer to escort me?" Barb spat. "You think I'm incapable of walking from this barn to the one on the hill there without male assistance? You think I might need some mansplaining on the way so I don't get lost? You think a poor little girl like me can't handle two horses?"
Hugh grinned as she ranted, waiting for her to lose steam.
His amusement only angered her further. "What's the bloody grin about?"
His lips still curled in a smile, Hugh raised a finger to request the floor. "If I may speak, I was wanting to go along with you in case you ran into any of the neighbors who might not recognize you."
Barb raised an eyebrow. "You think I can't handle the neighbors?"
"Actually, I was hoping to keep you from killing them."
Conor brayed with laughter, pointing at Barb. "Oh, he's a sharp one, he is. An excellent judge of character. Absolutely nailed you."
Not wanting to concede anything to her father's amusement, Barb said, "That might be a good idea if you're attached to the folks. I am known for my wrath and I don't take kindly to folks getting in my way."
Hugh slung his rifle over his shoulder and waved to the group. "Gentlemen, I'll be back shortly."
As soon as Hugh and Barb were out of sight, Jim gave Conor a wary look. "Is he safe?"
"All depends on how he acts and how she's feeling at the moment,” Conor said simply. “I don't claim to understand the female mind—especially that one."
Jim let out a sigh. "Well, hopefully she understands that the fragile peace we've established here depends on her behavior."
"I hope she understands that too," Conor admitted, watching his daughter disappear in the distance. There was uncerta
inty in his expression and he had no way of knowing that the man across from him, this Jim Powell, was no stranger to that same uncertainty.
While Conor sometimes questioned the way he'd raised his daughter and the decisions he'd made, Jim Powell often found himself questioning his own decisions. It was something they shared, this reckoning with the world they'd created, though it would be some time before they knew this about each other.
"So where does this go from here, Conor?" Jim asked. "How do I know you won't change your mind and decide to kill me if Browning turns up the heat?"
Conor looked at the ground for a moment, considering his words before he turned to Jim. "I'm a man of me word, Jim Powell. I put myself at considerable risk to make sure this meeting happened and I got a busted nose for the trouble."
"As did my son, so I think we're even there."
Conor conceded the point. "Your community is a day's ride from mine. We may not live next door to each other but I think we're neighbors in a regional sense. I've had to organize my community several times to take on different threats and it's been a struggle. Most don't have the mindset, the skills, nor the attitude to stand against a larger force. I came here understanding that I might have to kill you and I find a man who's pissed off nearly everyone in his entire community. In fact, he's pissed off some national-level players in the government to the point that he now has a price on his head, but he still doesn't back down. I don't think you know how to back down."
"He doesn't," Gary agreed. "He's a professional instigator. Makes enemies anywhere he goes."
"A man like you is scared of two things, Jim,” Conor went on. “He's scared for the safety of his family and he's scared of making a decision that gets people he cares about killed. I understand a man like you. I relate to that because I'm like that too."
Jim regarded Conor with a raised eyebrow. "You figured all that out while we've been sitting here? Your people skills that good?"
Conor shook his head. "No, but my gut is that good."
"And that's what your gut tells you?"
"In some ways it goes back to a lad hiding in a brush pile and holding me at gunpoint. Your son Pete was scared of me, but he still helped. He had nothing to go on but his gut and his instinct. He was out there because he was scared for you and he was scared for his family, but he still helped me. Regardless of what I've learned about you in the last hour, I've had a year to think about that kid and what it took for him to help me. If you raised a kid like that, you're a good man. You may not know that about yourself, and you may not always feel it. It's there though. The kinds of guts a kid like Pete has don't develop in a vacuum. He got that from somewhere."
Jim pondered that for a moment before responding. "I'm not sure I would have helped you, had it been me."
"I totally get that. Had it been you, we might be in a different place now. Or maybe not. Who knows? Either way, this mission is a scrub. When Barb gets back we'll saddle up and go home."
"What about Browning?"
"I expect he and I have unfinished business."
Jim considered that. "He and I have unfinished business too."
Conor studied Jim with a newfound interest, or perhaps with the eye of someone who'd had a suspicion validated. "How do you figure that?"
"The asshole put a contract out on me. That's personal. I've been through some shit lately, trying to get my bearings. I've faced some indecision about how I was handling things. That's behind me. You might say that I'm right with the world now. I know what I need to do and I'm ready to start doing that."
"What is it that you need to do, my friend?"
"Start stomping out all the little fires that are being built around me. I've allowed people in my community to work against me and I let them do it because I was scared of the reputation I was getting. I've realized there's no backing up now. I own my reputation. I own who I am. From now on, people who actively work against me will be dealt with."
"The intel that brought me here had to come from within your community, Jim,” Conor said with a knowing nod. “I guess you already know the government had surveillance footage of you inside the power plant you destroyed."
Jim sighed, recalling the flyer that had been airdropped over this entire region of the state. A wanted poster with his face on it. "I'm aware."
"But there were other people sending reports up the chain. I don't know if it's just sour grapes, a local complaining because you pissed them off, or if it's a coordinated effort, but there are people actively working against you."
"I already have a plan for that. We're putting it in place now."
"Can I ask how you're doing that?" Conor asked, his interest genuine.
"I'm building an intelligence network. I'm putting people out there in positions where they'll pick up gossip. I also have a plan to cultivate assets by paying for information. I've been low-key this summer but that's over. The Jim Powell that the community is about to experience is going to be a lot more like the Jim Powell they saw a year ago." Jim smiled. "And they're not going to like him."
Conor laughed. "Then maybe that's the best place for you to focus your efforts. Leave Browning to me. I'll figure something out. He'll be dealt with as soon as we're able to put something together."
“Nope.” Jim shook his head. "I want in on it. It's my fight too. You already said you have a shortage of people with the right attitude. I can assure you that my attitude is in the right place. I may not have the skills that you or that daughter of yours have, but I'm ready for a fight."
"How about we see how this shakes out?" Conor said. "If we can get him to bring the fight to us, I'll save you a seat. If I have to take the fight to him, I'm probably going to do it solo because it could take months to track him down."
Jim stuck out his hand and they shook on it. "I'll take that deal."
"We'll need a way to get up with you. You have any comms going?"
"My friend Hugh is on top of comms. He has a home on the slope of the mountain there with antennas all over the damn place. He's our primary source of outside information."
"Excellent," Conor said. "I'm glad to hear that. We only have the ability to work together if we can communicate."
"Yeah, we both screwed the pooch on that one," said Jim. "We had unrealistic expectations for the cheap radios we picked up as part of our gear. It's been an embarrassment really."
"Chalk it up as a learning experience." Conor got to his feet. "Now, if it's not too personal, do you mind showing me around the place? You appear to be well set-up here and I'd like to see if there's anything I might be able to implement at my own compound."
40
The Valley
Russell County, Virginia
To everyone's relief, Hugh and Barb were back in less than an hour with Barb riding her horse and Hugh riding Conor's.
"She didn't kill a single neighbor," Hugh said by way of a compliment. "And she never threatened me once."
Barb threw Hugh an amused glance. "Eh, there's still time. Don't go getting cocky on me."
Everyone could see that some of the hostility in Barb's demeanor had subsided. Perhaps it made some sense that of everyone, a man like Hugh could break through that tough shell. He had a long, unconventional history, much like Barb herself did. Whatever magic had been worked on that short trip, Conor and Jim both breathed easier because of it.
"Hugh, Jim tells me that you run the comms?" said Conor.
"I do. I have a home up on the slopes of the mountain there. Pointed it out to your daughter while we were fetching the horses."
"We need to exchange some frequencies. It's good to know we can exchange information."
Barb grew suspicious. "What kind of information? Don't tell me this turned all touchy-feely while I was gone and now we're all going to be besties." Her eyes roved from Jim to her father and back.
"Jim wants to help out if we decide to take on Browning," Conor said.
"I get it," Barb replied. "I hate the man too, but I'm not so s
ure how much help Jim would be in the matter."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jim fired back.
"It means you're likely to get your ass handed back to you in a doggie bag. Browning came out of the CIA's Special Activities Division. He's got over thirty years of experience dealing with rebels and insurgents."
Jim met her gaze with unflinching determination. "Listen, I don't make any claims to be anything other than what I am. I'm a determined husband and father who wants the world to be safer for my family. Addressing this threat is a step toward achieving that."
Barb shrugged. "Then bring it. Just be aware that we don't have a doctor anymore. He got killed. We can plug the holes if they shoot you full of them, but that's about it."
"Duly noted," Jim said with irritation.
Hugh climbed off Conor's horse and handed the reins over to him. "I want in on that fight too."
"You sure?" Conor asked.
Hugh grinned. "One hundred percent."
Barb regarded Gary. "What about you, Stretch?" He was the tallest of the group and leave it to Barb to hone in on those differences.
Gary shook his head. "I don't think so."
She raised an eyebrow. "No death wish like the rest of these chaps?"
Before he could respond, Jim cut in. "I don't want you to go, Gary. If Barb is right and I do get myself shot up, I need someone I can trust to keep an eye on my family."
"You know I'll take care of them," Gary said. "But let's do our best not to make that a reality, alright?"
Conor tied his horse off near a watering trough and waved Hugh over. Conor pulled a notepad from his pocket and exchanged notes with Hugh. They shared radio frequencies, security protocols, and worked out a schedule for regular check-ins.
Ultraviolent: Book Six in The Mad Mick Series Page 30
