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Patriots Unleashed

Page 4

by Robert Boren


  “No, I think Governor Nelson will pull us back to Texas as soon as we finish destroying I-40,” Jason said.

  There was the sound of a diesel engine approaching.

  “Crap, what’s that?” Don asked, eyes darting around.

  “Holy crap, it’s the third flatbed,” Jason said.

  “How’d they get that tank on there?” Kyle asked. “It looked pretty bad.”

  “Bikers,” Jason said, smiling.

  “Herman,” Kyle said. “Figures. That guy can fix anything.”

  The massive flatbed stopped on the outskirts of the camp, and Herman trotted over with Jose.

  “Is that tank usable?” Jason asked.

  “Not yet, but it wasn’t as badly damaged as we thought,” Herman said. “The FLIR system is toast, but the main parts of the turret survived.”

  “How about the crew?” Don asked.

  “They’re all dead,” Jose said. “There was a small fire in there that got them, but we were able to get the engine started.”

  “Good, maybe we can get it back into action before we get to I-40,” Kyle said.

  “That’s the plan, jack,” Herman said.

  Chapter 6 – Medivac

  The three boats made it back into the South Padre Island harbor, through the violent soup that the gulf had become. Richardson and the women pulled the outboard patrol boat into its slip and then rushed to help with Harley’s boat, piloted by Brendan, and the yacht.

  “Is he alive?” Richardson asked as he ran over.

  “I don’t know,” Brendan said. “He hasn’t moved for a while, but he’s not bleeding that much.”

  “He might be bleeding internally,” Lita said. “Where is he hit?”

  “Right side and right leg,” Brendan said.

  “I’m gonna help pull the yacht in,” Richardson said, rushing over to get a rope on the large boat.

  “Checked the apps lately?” Juan Carlos asked. “We just made some enemy fighters disappear.”

  “Shit, you’re right,” Richardson said, pulling out his phone. “Nothing near us yet.”

  “Is Harley okay?” Madison asked, as Juan Carlos helped her out.

  “We don’t know,” Richardson said.

  “We’d better check out the other yachts with a fine-toothed comb,” Juan Carlos said. “They might all be booby-trapped.”

  Madison got a horrified look on her face. “You didn’t tell me about that?”

  “You were having a hard enough time out there, sweetie,” Juan Carlos said, “and besides, I might be wrong. We need to figure out what went on here before Harley’s team arrived.”

  “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” Richardson said as they rushed over to Harley’s boat. “Surprised the boat didn’t get damaged.”

  “It did,” Brendan said. “Look at the main gun. It’s disabled for sure. Don’t know if we can fix it.”

  Juan Carlos looked at it. “Yeah, the gimbal arm on one side is bent, and there’s a piece of shrapnel stuck in there too.”

  “Great,” Richardson said. He pulled his phone and hit Wallis’s contact.

  “Richardson, what’s up?”

  “We just sank the boat with the enemy fighters on it, but it blew up big. Injured Harley.”

  “How badly?”

  “He doesn’t look good to me. Any chance you can send a chopper. The gulf is too dangerous to navigate right now. Wind’s really going.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Wallis said. “How did the boat blow up so big? Was he right next to it?”

  “No, he wasn’t. I think it was booby-trapped.”

  “Dammit,” Wallis said. “I’ll get back to you after I get somebody lined up.”

  “Thanks,” Richardson said. He ended the call.

  “Should we move him?” Brendan asked.

  “I wouldn’t,” Lita said. “Wait for the paramedics.”

  “Yeah, I agree,” Richardson said. “I know where the harbor master’s office is. I’m gonna go look at his records about the yachts.”

  “Why?” Lita asked as she walked over from Harley’s boat.

  “That old hulk was booby trapped,” Richardson said. “No amount of gasoline would explode like that. It was probably a whole lot of plastic explosive.”

  “Shit,” Hannah said.

  “Nobody goes on the other yachts for now, okay?” Richardson said as he was walking away. Then he stopped and turned around. “Juan Carlos, move our patrol boat to the far side of the harbor, away from the yachts.”

  “Good idea, dude,” he said.

  “I’ll help,” Brendan said. They trotted over to the boat as Richardson walked away.

  “We can’t trust anything or anybody, can we?” Hannah asked, on the verge of tears.

  “Seems like it, doesn’t it?” Lita said. “I hope we can get a chopper here quickly.”

  “You and me both,” Madison said. “I don’t think he’s going to live.”

  “Hope you’re wrong,” Lita said. “I’m going over to the Harbor Master’s office. Don’t want to be away from Richardson.”

  Madison and Hannah nodded, watching her walk away.

  “As soon as the boys park their patrol boat, I’m gonna be with them,” Madison said. “I don’t like this. What if there are booby traps in the buildings?”

  Lita froze. “Shit. I suggest you two sit in the patrol boat with your men.”

  “Yeah,” Hannah said.

  Lita went to the three-story building at the crotch of the u-shaped dock and climbed the outside stairs to the top, going through the open door. Richardson was behind the desk, which faced outward from the back wall of the office.

  “It smells bad in here,” Lita said. “Find anything?”

  “This was locked up. I had to break the door.”

  “Geez, is that blood on the wall behind the desk?” Lita asked.

  “Yeah, and some brains. There’s blood all over the floor back here too. It’s not that old.”

  “Why wasn’t this opened by Harley’s team?” Lita asked.

  “There’s over fifty buildings in this complex, most of them multiple stories, and this one isn’t good for much, as far as the base goes. The door to the ground floor was unlocked, so I think they’ve been in there.”

  “Is the log book here?” Lita asked.

  “No log book. He was probably using his computer, and it’s gone. See? There’s where it sat.” He pointed to a rectangular spot on the desk’s paper blotter which was free of writing in the center, the blank space being about the size of a desktop computer and keyboard.

  “Do you think they might have booby trapped any of the buildings?”

  Richardson looked over at her, brow furrowed. “I don’t know. Maybe. With Harley knocked out and the other folks he had with him dead, there’s nobody to ask about the state of this place when they got here.”

  “I wouldn’t count on Harley pulling through. He’s barely breathing.”

  Richardson shot her a worried glance as he shut a lower drawer. “Well, that’s all the desk drawers.”

  “What about that short file cabinet?”

  “It’s locked,” Richardson said. “I need a crowbar or something.”

  “Maybe you should shoot the lock,” she said.

  “I’d rather not. Never know where the bullet is gonna fly.”

  His phone rang, and he answered it.

  “Richardson, there’s a medivac chopper on the way,” Wallis said. “Should be there in about ten minutes. Is he still alive?”

  “I don’t know,” Richardson said. “We didn’t want to move him out of his patrol boat. I’m up in the Harbor Master’s office, looking for info on what happened before Harley’s team got here.”

  “Understand,” he said. “Keep an eye on the apps. We just erased several of their fighter’s RFID chips. Might prompt somebody to come check.”

  “Yeah, we already figured that. I’ll keep on it.”

  “Great,” Wallis said. “Thanks.”


  “Talk to you soon.” Richardson ended the call.

  “I’m sure there’s something I can break the lock with around here,” Richardson said. “I’ll look after the chopper takes off with Harley. Let’s go back down there.”

  “Okay,” Lita said. They went to their patrol boat.

  “All sitting in the boat, huh?” Richardson asked.

  “Seemed like the safest place, boss,” Brendan said. “Chopper coming?”

  “Yeah, ten minutes. After they’re gone, I’ll need to find a crowbar or something to break a lock up there.”

  “I know where there’s stuff like that,” Juan Carlos said. “Had to get tools from there to work on the yacht. I’ll show you.”

  “Okay, might as well go now,” Richardson said. “We’ve got a few minutes.”

  “I’m going too,” Lita said.

  “Yeah, I’m going with Juan Carlos,” Madison said.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t be so jumpy,” Richardson said. Madison and Lita shot him a look. “Okay, okay, I get it. Sorry. You two want to come along too?”

  Brendan smiled. “Don’t you think somebody ought to be manning the guns?”

  “He’s got a point,” Lita said. “You want to go with us, Hannah?”

  “Not a chance,” she said, moving over next to Brendan. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Be back in a sec,” Juan Carlos said.

  They walked towards the part of the dock where the other boats were, going into the ground floor of a large structure, formerly a boat repair business.

  “How big is the lock, dude? I saw some bolt cutters over there.” Juan Carlos pointed to the back corner.

  Richardson went over there and picked one up. “This will probably do it.” They left the building just in time to hear the chopper coming.

  “Where’s that thing going to set down?” Juan Carlos asked.

  “It’s got pontoons, see?” Madison said, squinting at the sky.

  “Damn, baby, you’ve got better eyes than I do,” Juan Carlos said. They walked out to the slip that Harley’s boat was in. Richardson took a close look.

  “He’s still breathing, at least,” Richardson said.

  Harley moaned, trying to turn his head.

  “Don’t try to move,” Richardson said. “The medivac is almost here. They’ll get you to the hospital.”

  He moaned again, trying to move one leg, still trying to move his head too.

  “At least he doesn’t appear to be paralyzed,” Lita whispered from behind Richardson.

  The chopper sat down and moved over to the dock slowly, one of several paramedics jumping out. He was a big man in a red jumpsuit.

  “You Richardson?” the man asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m MacEroy. Has he been conscious?”

  “He moaned a second ago and tried to move his head and his left leg,” Richardson said.

  Two more paramedics jumped onto the dock, and the chopper shut down its engines. Juan Carlos went over there and threw a rope to the chopper pilot, as the paramedics carefully got into the patrol boat.

  Richardson backed away with Lita, and they watched the paramedics work. One of them went back to the chopper and brought over a board, and they loaded Harley onto it. He was still barely conscious. The paramedics rushed him to the chopper, struggling to get him inside as the wind moved the chopper around. They got him in safe and sound, then MacEroy trotted back over.

  “What do you think?” Richardson asked.

  “Hard to tell,” MacEroy said. “What’s your number?”

  Richardson read it out as the medic put it into his phone. He tried it, Richardson’s phone ringing.

  “We’ll let you know when we find out how bad he is,” MacEroy said. “Talk to you soon.”

  Richardson nodded, and MacEroy got back into the chopper. Juan Carlos pulled the rope away and pushed them off. They drifted a little before starting the engines, and left after a couple of minutes.

  “I hope he’s gonna be okay,” Lita said.

  “You and me both,” Richardson said. “Let’s go back to the Harbor master’s office.”

  Lita nodded and they rushed in that direction, Madison and Juan Carlos going back to the patrol boat.

  “Let’s see if this works,” Richardson said, putting the big bolt cutters onto the lock. He squeezed the handles together, and the jaws broke through. “Bingo.”

  He pulled the broken lock off the file cabinet and opened the top drawer. “Look at this.”

  Lita looked inside. There was a tape recorder with the microphone attached.

  “Hell, that’s an old cassette recorder,” Lita said. “My dad had one of those. Early seventies, probably.”

  “Looks like it was running to the end of the tape,” Richardson said, carefully picking it up. He hit the rewind button. Nothing happened.

  “Batteries are dead,” Richardson said. He turned the unit over and opened the battery compartment. “It takes C batteries. Help me look around for some.”

  Lita nodded as they tore the office apart.

  Chapter 7 – Set Up

  Wallis and Gallagher sat in the console room at their secure location, thinking as the call got set up.

  “You really think this warrants a call to the boss?” Gallagher asked. “Maybe we should let Richardson do more digging first. He might find out what we need to know.”

  “The booby-trapped boat on South Padre Island is a big deal,” he said. “I think we should abandon that base. The whole place might be booby-trapped, you know.”

  “Did Richardson say that?”

  “No,” Wallis said, “but he was still reeling from the incident, and those people haven’t had any rest for a while.”

  “We need to have some kind of base there,” Gallagher said. “We’re gonna have a lot of enemy activity around there now that the I-25 route has been shut down.”

  “I’m not disagreeing with that,” Wallis said. “Not in the least. I want our remaining people out of there, though, until we’re sure this base is okay. I don’t want to get it loaded up with men and boats and then have all of it blow sky high.”

  “Richardson’s looking into it,” Gallagher said.

  “Neither Richardson nor any of his people are bomb experts,” Wallis said. “If they find something, they’re liable to blow themselves up trying to defuse it.”

  Gallagher sighed as the console screen came on. Maria’s smiling face was there.

  “Governor Nelson will be in here in a couple minutes,” Maria said. “I told him it was urgent. He’s on a conference call, but he’ll break away.”

  “Thank you,” Wallis said. “Just beep us when he’s there, okay?”

  “Will do, sir,” she said. The screen went blank, and Wallis leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath.

  “Kip’s a lucky guy,” Wallis whispered. “She’s so beautiful.”

  “Tell me about it,” Gallagher said. “Smart too.”

  “I’ve gotten to be rather fond of Kip,” Wallis said. “He used to rub me the wrong way.”

  “I know, me too,” Gallagher said. “I used to think he was just a lefty political hack. Now I know him to be a patriot.”

  Wallis chuckled. “After this war is over, he’ll end up back on the opposition again.”

  “I know, but that’s okay. Reagan and Tip O’Neill were good friends. It happens all the time.”

  “I know,” Wallis said. “I’ll always strive to stay friends with him.”

  The console came on, the screen showing Governor Nelson, Chief Ramsey, and Kip Hendrix.

  “Sorry it took so long,” Nelson said. “This must be important. Wallis, you look fit to be tied.”

  “There was an incident in the gulf,” he said.

  “When?”

  “Twenty minutes ago,” Wallis said. “I found out about it about ten minutes ago.”

  “Uh oh,” Ramsey said. “What now?”

  “The boat that Richardson put the dead enemy fighters on was boob
y-trapped,” Wallis said.

  “Oh, no, we didn’t lose that team, did we?” Nelson asked.

  “Harley got injured,” Wallis said. “We just picked him up with a medivac chopper.”

  “He gonna live?” Ramsey asked.

  “Unknown at this time,” Wallis said. “I’m hoping for a call soon.”

  Nelson sighed. “You don’t think that was the end of it, do you?”

  “No,” Wallis said. “I want our people off that base. Right away.”

  “You think the enemy has booby-trapped more of that base,” Hendrix said.

  “Yes, and they might be able to set off the charges remotely,” Wallis said. “They might be getting ready to do that right now, since the RFID chips from their people have disappeared. Remember that the group was moving the bodies around to simulate life until they took them out to scuttle with the old yacht.”

  Nelson stood up. “Call them now. Tell them to evacuate with their patrol boats immediately.”

  “How are we gonna cover the area?” Gallagher asked.

  “That’s for you two to figure out,” Nelson said. “I want our people out of that base now.”

  “Okay, boss, thanks,” Wallis said. “I’m calling them now.”

  “Talk to you guys later,” Nelson said. “I’ve got to get back on this call.”

  Gallagher nodded, alone now that Wallis walked away. “Talk to you guys later. Thanks.”

  The console went blank. Gallagher went out into the kitchen area, where Wallis was pacing with his phone to his ear.

  “You get them?” Gallagher asked.

  Wallis looked over at him with a horrified face and shook his head no. He pulled the phone away from his ear and hit another contact.

  “Who are you calling?” Gallagher asked.

  “Drone operations,” he said. “We’ve got a drone close by. I want it over the scene right now.”

  Chapter 8 – No-Man’s Land

  Richardson and Lita had looked through the Harbor Master’s office for C batteries. There were none.

  “Dammit,” Richardson said. “Let’s go check that boat shop where we got the bolt cutters.”

  “Should we take the recorder?”

  “Yeah,” Richardson said. He turned to grab it, and then there was a huge blast outside.

 

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