The Peacekeepers. Books 1 - 3.

by Ricky Sides

Reggie turned loose of the man and chortled as he said, “She was good though. I had a fine time with her.” Reggie’s two friends added their agreement and he told them to shut up. They complied meekly.

  Reggie started pacing the floor. For a full three minutes, he paced back and forth. Finally, he stopped and spoke in soft tones, “Gather our gear. Tonight we’re going to leave.”

  Reggie walked over to the spot where he had concealed his ear collection and retrieved it. “My main regret is I won’t get to add Pete’s ears to my collection like I’d planned.” Then snickering to his friend, he added, “And then there’s that cute nine year old daughter of Fred’s.”

  “The redheaded kid with the curls?” asked one of his friends.

  “Yeah that’s the one,” Reggie answered leering at the men suggestively.

  “Yeah she is a hot little thing isn’t she?” replied one of the three deviates.

  Reggie sighed regretfully, “Some other time maybe.”

  ***

  In his office, Pete sat back in his chair and looked at Sergeant Jackson. “In a couple hours, I believe we’ll have your man.”

  In anger the sergeant replied, “I want the man who killed my baby, Pete.” The sergeant glared defiantly at Pete and said, “I want to kill him, just like he killed my baby.”

  “I don’t blame you one bit for that, Sergeant,” Pete replied in a calm voice. “In fact I would be surprised if you said anything different.”

  Unbidden tears rolled down the sergeant’s cheeks as thoughts of his daughter’s ravished and beaten body entered his mind.

  Pete saw this and said, “The Doctor has a report that he wishes to present concerning your daughter. Under the circumstances it might be best if you step outside so you don’t hear it.”

  Sergeant Jackson pulled himself up to his full height, and said, “I want to know everything concerning my daughter’s case.”

  Pete sighed and reluctantly agreed because if it were his daughter, he’d also demand to hear the evidence. Turning to Bill Young he said, “Bring in the doctor.”

  When the doctor walked into the room, he took one look at Sergeant Jackson and said, “Sergeant, I think you should sit down.”

  “Just make the report, Doc,” the sergeant said.

  The doctor sighed with regret and said, “Sergeant, your daughter was attacked by more than one man. There were two different blood types under her fingernails. Neither of those were her own blood type. The amount of semen present also indicates multiple attackers. There are tests I could run, under normal circumstances, which would tell us exactly how many attackers there were, but I lack the equipment necessary to run those tests here.”

  The sergeant stared at the doctor in shock and then he started to tremble all over. Fresh tears formed in his eyes and he said, “My poor baby.” Turning to Pete, he cried out in anguish, “Look what they did to my baby.”

  “They’ll pay for what they put her through, Sergeant. As God is my witness, I swear they will,” Pete said to the grieving sergeant.

  Turning to the doctor he asked, “You’re absolutely certain of your findings?”

  “There is absolutely no doubt in my mind,” the doctor replied without hesitation.

  ***

  At that moment, Reggie and his two friends were trying to slip past the guards. One of the elite guards spotted them and shouted, “Halt!”

  Reggie spun in the direction of the guard and fired from the hip. The forty-five caliber bullet struck the guard in the center of the chest lifting her off her feet and slamming her into the wall. She slid down the wall leaving a trail of blood from the wound. She was dead before she hit the floor of the corridor.

  Pete heard the sound of the shot. He ran out the door, followed by the rest of the occupants of the room. Soon they reached the corridor where the dead guard’s body lay. Reggie and his two friends were in a firefight with two more guards.

  Pete and Sergeant Jackson added their firepower to that of the two guards and soon they had Reggie and his friends pinned down.

  Pete ordered Bill Young to return to the armory and retrieve two canisters of knock out gas. He wanted the rapists taken alive. As an afterthought, he instructed Bill to bring back some gas masks so they wouldn’t run the risk of being rendered unconscious as well. Bill, who was situated out of the line of fire, sprinted away to carry out his orders.

  The firing ceased for a moment and Reggie’s voiced could be heard in the ensuing silence as he shouted, “Hey, Pete, is that you?”

  “Yeah, I’m here,” Pete, shouted in reply.

  “Good, maybe I’ll get your ears after all then,” he said and laughed.

  “You’re welcome to try,” Pete shouted and then he suggested, “Why don’t we settle this between us.”

  “No thanks. Hell, I have it made where I am. You can’t get at me. We are safe here, where the rocks protect us. All you can do is keep me here a while longer.”

  Something was wrong and Pete knew it. Reggie should be scared shitless. He had his back to the wall and nowhere to run. “How does he figure to get out of this?” Pete wondered.

  The minutes seemed to last an eternity as Pete waited for Bill to return with the gas, but finally he was there beside him handing out gas masks. He handed Pete and Sergeant Jackson the two gas cylinders.

  Pete and the sergeant pulled the pins on the cylinders and hurled them to Reggie’s place of concealment behind some rocks. Almost as soon as they landed, they started spewing out a bluish gas.

  Moments later, an explosion rocked the tunnel. Under the cover of the dust raised by the explosion, Pete and the others rushed to Reggie’s position, but when they got there Reggie was gone. His two friends lay crumpled on the floor. They had succumbed to the knock out gas, but somehow Reggie had blasted a hole in the tunnel wall and connected to one of the retreat emergency exits.

  Wasting no time, Pete said, “Sergeant Jackson will come with me. The rest of you will stay here and guard the prisoners. Make sure that they are here when we get back.”

  Pete had left his office with only his pistol. He reached out to a nearby guard and said, “Loan me your rifle.”

  Without a word, the woman handed over her rifle. The other guard handed her weapon to Sergeant Jackson. Both men checked the magazines and without further delay darted through the hole Reggie had blasted in hot pursuit of the miscreant.

  Pete knew that Reggie was probably already outside the base, but he took all of the normal precautions as he silently moved through the escape tunnel. From further down the tunnel they heard a scream. Pete abandoned caution then and broke into a quiet trot down the tunnel in the direction of the scream with Sergeant Jackson right behind him. Pete was afraid that another guard had been killed and he wanted to catch up to Reggie before he could kill or injure anyone else.

  Pete stopped abruptly and extended his arm to stop Sergeant Jackson. In the dim light of the tunnel, he could see a crumpled form lying on the floor. His eyes scanned every possible hiding place in the vicinity before he proceeded down the passageway. When he reached the crumpled form, he found what he expected. The dead man was another of the tunnel guards.

  Pete knelt beside the body to examine the man. He checked for a pulse and sighed with regret. The guard was a nineteen-year-old man named Ben Reeves. He’d joined the group about a year ago and he was one of the few men who were automatically cleared of suspicion of attacking the sergeant’s daughter. He’d been out on patrol with Lieutenant Bill Young at the time of the attack. Pete really liked the young man. Now he’d have to tell his mother that he was dead.

  Pete stood up and glared angrily down the tunnel. In anger he shouted, “This is one more crime you’re going to have to answer for.” Then he moved out again.

  Three days later, Reggie still hadn’t been found. Pete had put a bounty out for his capture. Posters had been made and were being circulated on the street. He was offering enough food to last one man six months for Reggie’s capture. He was hopeful that th
is would produce some results.

  In his quarters, Sergeant Jackson kissed his wife goodbye. He said, “I’ll be back when I’ve found the man that killed our little girl, honey. Don’t worry about me. I know how to take care of myself.”

  The woman had seen her husband go off to war more than once during their twenty-two year marriage. She had always somehow known that he would come back to her from those wars. This time was different. She really couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew that if he left on this mission, he wouldn’t be coming back. She pleaded with him to reconsider, and wait for someone to claim Pete’s reward. She begged him, she cried, and she even threatened him. But in the end she kissed him and told him she loved him.

  ***

  The punishment of Reggie’s friends had been carried out the day after their capture. As promised, Sergeant Jackson had castrated them with Pete’s dragon dagger. The doctor had instructed him on how to perform this punishment in such a manner that they would survive the procedure. They were currently recovering from that punishment and awaiting their ultimate fate.

  Pete made certain that the elite women’s guard guarded the two men. They’d get no sympathy or comforting words from the women. Male guards might feel some empathy for the prisoners in view of the punishment and Pete felt they deserved none.

  Pete knew that this was cruel and unusual punishment but these were cruel and unusual times. If the group didn’t severely punish this deviant behavior perpetrated by one member on another then it would happen again. For the good of the group, an object lesson had to be made. Pete felt no guilt about the severity of the punishment. His heart went out to the victim and her family. He had no sympathy to spare for the criminals who’d attacked the girl.

  On the tenth day after their castration, one of the men tried to hang himself in his cell, but the ever-watchful guards cut him down before he died.

  On the twentieth day, the rest of the sentence was carried out in public. The men didn’t die well.

  On the twenty-fifth day, Sergeant Jackson’s body was brought into the shelter complex. He’d been shot in the back of the head with a large caliber rifle. His ears had been cut off. On the front of his jacket, they found a note that said, “You’re next, Pete.”

  In sorrow, Pete stared at the mutilated body of his friend and said, “I’ll make him pay for what he’s done, old friend. He’ll pay for what he did to your daughter, and he’ll pay for what he did to you.”

  An hour later, Pete spoke with his two lieutenants. He said, “I’m going to go after Reggie.” Bill Young opened his mouth to protest this, but Pete cut him off saying, “The subject isn’t open for discussion gentlemen. My mind is made up.”

  Pete glared at the two lieutenants and finally they nodded their acceptance. Smiling at their acceptance he said, “I know he was one of our best snipers but he wasn’t the best.”

  Bill nodded his head solemnly and said, “You have the best record. No one is denying that. However, you taught Reggie. He knows how you think and he will try to use that against you.”

  “I’m sure you’re right about that. In fact I’m counting on that.” Pete smiled at his uncomfortable lieutenants and said, “Don’t worry about me. It’s going to take someone a lot smarter and more skilled than Reggie to kill me.”

  Bill glared angrily at Pete then and said, “You know, Pete, you can die too.”

  Pete laughed at that statement and Bill’s face grew puzzled. “Did I say something funny?” he asked.

  “Not really. Another man said the same thing to me once in Vietnam. When you said it just now you brought back a lot of old memories.”

  Turning very serious, Pete said, “Remember my instructions. If you forget, it could be disastrous.”

  “We won’t forget,” replied Bill. “We’ve already tripled the guards and issued the orders to shoot to kill any intruders attempting to infiltrate our shelter.”

  “Good,” said Pete. He walked across the floor and sat down heavily behind his desk. When he was comfortable he said, “Reggie’s been gone long enough to have linked up with some Marauder groups. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if he were to lead an attack on the shelter.”

  Bill said, “We’ll be ready. I promise you, he’ll find a warm reception waiting for him if he tries that.”

  “I’m counting on you two to take care of our people while I’m gone. I wouldn’t leave you in charge if I didn’t think you could handle it. I want you both to be extremely careful until I return,” Pete said.

  “There is one other thing, Bill. I want all patrols outside the shelter halted until I return. Reggie might decide to start ambushing our men as they patrol the city,” Pete said, explaining his concern.

  Bill nodded and turned to go. As he walked toward the door he said, “In that case I’d better stop the patrol that’s scheduled to leave in ten minutes.”

  Pete stood up to go and said, “I’ll see you both when I get back.” He walked over to his backpack and slipped it on. He adjusted one strap and then picked up his rifle. He went out to the tunnel and headed for one of the emergency exits. He was going hunting.

  Chapter 21

  Jim stopped the Peterbuilt at an abandoned motel a few miles northwest of Alexandria. He had only about fifty miles to go to reach Fort Polk, but he was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. He knew he needed to be alert and ready for anything when he reached the base, so he really didn’t mind one more delay.

  He took his rifle and a good supply of food inside the room with him. He wanted to eat a good dinner tonight because he thought it quite likely that once he reached the Fort he might be too busy to eat until late the next night.

  He heated the meal the same way he normally did when in a motel room. Jim used candles set up in a small aluminum pan. He’d open a can of food and then set it on a homemade stand above a candle. If he was eating a small can of food, he usually used one candle. If it was a large can, he used two or three. The food heated slowly, but Jim was usually in no rush about the food preparation. He rather enjoyed the process. It gave him something to do as he thought about the events of the day. That night, he had a large dinner of chicken stew, canned sweet potatoes, and fruit cocktail. He also drank a soft drink, and when he became sleepy, he went to bed and slept peacefully.

  The next morning, Jim woke up early. He felt refreshed after a great night’s sleep. He had a good breakfast of canned chicken ala king and peaches, and then he got on the road again.

  He’d driven only a couple of miles when his C.B. radio squawked to life. Jim had made it a habit to keep the C.B. turned on because he sometimes picked up information concerning the condition of the roads in the area.

  This morning he was hoping to hear something about Highway 1. What he heard instead was the sound of a man’s harsh voice coordinating the effort to force someone off the road.

  Jim listened as he heard the man tell his accomplice to tighten up their gap. The man also said, “This is Highway 1. It leads right up to Alexandria. If she gets to the ruins there, we’ll never find her, so tighten up that gap.”

  Jim angrily pushed the big Peterbuilt up to fifty miles per hour. It was dangerous, but he knew the girl would need help, so he did it anyway.

  As he drove down Highway 1, he readied his weapons. He chambered a round in the Smith and Wesson and laid it on the seat beside his right leg. Removing the AK-47 from its rack, he cradled it in his left arm as he simultaneously stirred the truck and chambered a round in the assault rifle. He then laid it across the passenger seat, with the butt of the weapon within easy reach.

  Jim dodged several potholes while he listened in on the chase. It wasn’t going very well for the bad guys. Either the girl was an excellent driver, or the men were just lousy. Either way the girl kept slipping out of their traps.

  Again the leader’s angry voice came over the airwaves saying, “You idiot! You let her slip through our trap again!”

  Then Jim heard laughter coming over the C.B. and a melodio
us voice said, “You guys remind me of the Keystone Cops. You can’t seem to do anything right.”

  The marauder leader’s angry voice shouted back, “You bitch, we’ll show you what we can do right when we catch you!”

  “Oh hell,” said the girl in exasperation. Then she said, “Is that all you guys want? Hell, there are only two of you. You two probably wouldn’t even be enough to get me started.”

  The leader’s voice taunted back, “If you pull that jeep off to the side of the road I’ll show you I can do more than get you started.”

  “You know, mister, I think I should do just that. I’m pretty sure I could more than handle the two of you. The only thing is, I don’t think I’ll let you have what you want. I’m saving myself for the man I marry, and, well, I shouldn’t really reward failure, now should I?”

  “You bitch. You’re just playing games with me. You’ll pay for that. When I get my hands on you I’ll…”

  The girl in the jeep must have been pushing a lot of watts, because when she keyed up her mike, she completely cut off the marauder, or walked on him as the CB folks say. Her golden laughter echoed in Jim’s truck as she said, “Now, now. You know it’s illegal to use that sort of language on the C.B.” Jim was impressed. The girl seemed fearless.

  Jim laughed and reached for his mike. He keyed the mike and said, “That’s it, boys. You’re outclassed. Better break off the chase and let the lady go her way in peace.”

  The leader of the Marauders spoke again. This time addressing Jim when he said, “Listen, mister. I don’t know who you are, but you’d do well to mind your own business and stay out of this.”

  “You’ll know my name in about one minute. It’s painted on the side of the trailer I’m pulling behind my rig.”

  The leader’s voice started to come over the radio but the girl keyed up and walked on him again. “I don’t know who you are either, Mister, but I appreciate the moral support.”