The Peacekeepers. Books 1 - 3.

by Ricky Sides

  ***

  Tim eased back on the throttle as the Peacekeeper came upon the attacking Marauders, this time from the rear. Pete fired the laser with finesse taking out vehicle after vehicle as they closed with, and then began to pass the vehicles. Tim dropped down to the deck and flew at an altitude of thirty feet so that Pete could use the belly gun if the opportunity presented itself and it soon did as they passed over a large flatbed truck filled to the brim with Marauders. Pete activated the belly gun and several Marauders struggled to climb the wooden sideboards to escape the terrible heat. Their bodies caught fire within a moment, and soon their ammunition cooked off and exploded.

  “You ready on the rear laser?” Tim asked.

  “If you can get me in position,” Pete affirmed.

  A moment later the Peacekeeper matched pace with the flatbed and Pete fired the rear laser through the windshield hitting the driver who spun the wheel to the left in a last ditch effort to evade the lethal ship. The truck ran off the road into a step ditch where the front end smashed into the bottom of the ditch. The driver was propelled through the windshield. The few men who remained alive in the back died in the fireball that resulted when the fuel tank exploded.

  “Nice shot,” Tim complimented.

  “Nice flying,” responded Pete, returning the compliment.”

  “I say friends, is that man holding a missile and aiming it at us?” Pol asked as he stared transfixed out the windshield. Poll’s eyes widened and he shouted, “Belly gun, Pete. Climb, Tim, and full speed ahead!”

  They noted the missile’s launch as the ship shot upward. Tim fought the controls as he asked, “You got the belly gun firing?”

  “It’s firing, but I don’t know if this will work,” Pete responded.

  “You got something better to do?” Tim asked.

  “Well, at the moment, I’d rather be killing Marauders, but now is not really a good time,” Pete quipped.

  A moment later, they heard a large explosion to their right. Turning the ship about, Tim saw a round burning spot off the side of the road. “I think that worked,” Tim said with a smile. “Thank you, Pol!”

  “Thank you for having the reflexes of a champion flier. And thank Pete for being the best gunner I’ve ever worked with,” Pol said greatly relieved that the missile had not struck the ship.

  “Want to go back for that sucker with the rocket?” Pete asked.

  “Sure, how many more could he have?” asked Tim.

  “God, I wish you hadn’t said that,” Pol said with feeling and Tim laughed.

  A moment later they came upon the vehicle from which the man had fired a rocket. The man jumped up again prepared to fire another, but this time Pete was ready for him and he struck the man and his rocket. There was an immediate explosion and the crew could hear bits of debris bouncing off the skin of the ship. Tim reversed direction again and they flew rapidly to the south seeking out more Marauders.

  ***

  On the ground roaring south, the sergeant and his two men passed underneath the Peacekeeper as she climbed rapidly and flew away trying to evade the missile. In his rear view mirror, he saw the missile suddenly veer away from the ship and impact the ground, and then he had to concentrate on the vehicles ahead. The strike team rapidly closed on the marauders trying to force the peacekeeper trucks off the road. The sergeant armed a missile and let it fly at the rear Marauder vehicle. The car exploded in a satisfactory fireball and veered drunkenly off the road, crashing into a ditch and rolling over. Roaring through the smoke, he didn’t see the peacekeeper truck drivers waving wildly and encouraging him. He was just doing his job, and doing it well.

  Now his two men pulled up beside him, one to either side. The man on the left fired a missile. His missile struck the gas tank of a high profile four-wheel drive pickup truck. The truck exploded and as one, the three bikes veered to the right to dodge the wreckage. Once past that wreckage, they immediately maneuvered back to the left. Almost immediately, the man on the right fired his missile. This missile flew toward a large van that seemed to be loaded with about a dozen men. One of the men shot through the back window and Sergeant Wilcox saw the peacekeeper who had fired the missile jerk backwards as if from an impact, but he turned to face the sergeant and smiled indicating that he wasn’t hurt. The van blew up in a massive fireball. All three bikes managed to jerk to the right in time to miss the fireball, but it had been very close.

  As the Peacekeeper shot by overhead at an incredible rate of speed, they poured on the speed again. They throttled up and raced down the highway toward the nearest enemy vehicle. They saw Pete’s laser slash into the rear of the vehicle and a reddish pulse shot down the laser. The vehicle blew apart as if it had contained a bomb and the bikes had to dodge bits of wreckage for a moment.

  The Peacekeeper shot past the next vehicle leaving that one to the bikes and all three raced up behind it. Sergeant Wilcox fired his forty-millimeter grenade at that vehicle and had the satisfaction of seeing men fly out the back of the truck. They dodged the bodies for fear they would lose control of their bikes should they hit them. The peacekeeper trucks behind them didn’t have that concern. They made certain no Marauder that fell out of the truck survived.

  ***

  Jim observed the battle bikes in action as the Peacekeeper flew up behind them. The bikes were performing superbly and he was proud of the sergeant and his men. In his radio, he could hear the rider who was pulling guard duty alternately cursing and then encouraging his teammates to get one for him. Glancing at Patricia, he saw her chuckling in amusement at the guard’s plight.

  As they shot past the bikes, Pete scored another kill and Jim asked him to save one for the bikes. Laughing, Pete complied and Tim accelerated past the next vehicle coming perilously close to the next in line. “Need me to be gunner for a while?” asked Tim.

  “Well, I could use a potty break,” Pete joked as he stroked the firing button.

  Behind them Pol stood near Patricia, his eyes round and he whispered, “Are they crazy?”

  “No, Pol, they’re just having fun,” she said and laughed as he shook his head. Then turning serious she whispered, “Pol, dear, we’ve all seen and experienced some very bad things from men just like these. I haven’t told you, but the first time Tim saved me, I was being raped. The second time another group of men were attempting to capture me for the same reason. We all have had experiences, Pol. None of us are insane murderers, but none of us regret in the least ridding the world of such scum as these men.”

  “My dear, I did not know,” Pol said reaching out to touch her arm with tears in his eyes.

  “We don’t speak of these things much, but much has been done to many of us. Little Lisa, Pete and Maggie’s adopted daughter, was caught by a man who kept her prisoner. He raped her repeatedly, and so brutally that she suffered internal damage. She will never bear children,” Patricia explained and the stricken look on Pol’s face changed to one of anger.

  “I hope they find the man responsible and kill him,” Pol said vehemently.

  “This crew captured him, or more precisely Jim and Pete captured him. Pete shot him in the back of the head at his execution,” she explained.

  “Good, such a man should not live. He is an abomination deserving only death,” Pol said sincerely.

  The Peacekeeper flew past the convoy leader and shot upward and away at a fantastic rate of speed. Bringing the ship about, Tim asked, “Pol, how are we doing on energy consumption?”

  “Three quarters of our reserve are remaining friend, Tim. You flew well and Pete does not waste energy on misses,” Pol said complimenting both men.

  “Well done all,” Jim said. He ordered the ship to make a last run seeking marauders. If none were spotted, then they were to return to the site where a lone guard stood watch over two injured peacekeepers.

  ***

  The trailers were undamaged but the tractors were a loss. Neither would ever make another run. Maggie treated the wounded drivers, but thanks
to the new body armor, those wounds were primarily bruises and lacerations from flying glass and bits of metal shrapnel from the truck bodies.

  Sergeant Wilcox discovered that he’d been hit multiple times, and without the body armor he would have died. The same was true for the man Wilcox had seen take the hit. Many of the drivers had also taken several hits, but miraculously none had died, thanks to Pol’s armor.

  Pete had the convoy turn around and rejoin the two disabled trucks. It took hours of work, but the materials being transported in the two trucks was all redistributed among the remaining eight trucks. As a habit, the convoys always tried to leave enough room in the trailers to absorb the contents of one trailer should one of the trucks break down, but absorbing the contents of two trucks was too much and the Peacekeeper had to take on a good share of one of the loads. Nevertheless, they managed to get every single item stored and ready to begin the run again.

  The Peacekeeper escorted the trucks all the way to the base, and when they arrived, they found the entire base had turned out to greet them. When they exited the ship, Pete called all peacekeepers present to sharp attention and then Jim stepped forward and said in a clear voice, “Specialist, Pol Bleakman, step forward if you please.”

  Pol stepped forward nervously as ordered wondering what he’d done wrong. Jim turned to face him and he said, “Specialist, Pol Bleakman, your contributions to the peacekeepers is directly responsible for saving the lives of an unknown number of peacekeepers this day. Your upgrades to the Peacekeeper ship made it possible for us to prevent the loss of ten truckloads of equipment, but more importantly, it enabled us to get there and prevent the deaths of twenty peacekeepers who would surely have been murdered. Furthermore, your suggestion of the body armor saved at least another two men from certain death. Therefore, it is my responsibility to acknowledge your contributions. You are hereby granted the rank and privileges of a lieutenant in the peacekeeper forces. Congratulations, Lieutenant,” Jim said and shook his hand.

  Pete stepped forward and pinned the lieutenant’s bars on Pol’s collars, and then he shook his hand. “Congratulations, Lieutenant,” Pete said with a serious expression in his eyes, and then he whispered, “My good friend,” and then he winked.

  Poor Pol was awed. He didn’t know what to make of all this fuss. From his perspective, he’d just been trying to fit in. To find a family and he said as much. “Well I’d say you did that,” Pete said warmly and then added, “Welcome to the family, Pol.”

  “Thank you friend, Pete, thank you so much,” Pol said with feeling and the loneliness he’d experienced for years receded to a distant memory.

  Chapter 24

  Pete breathed a sigh of relief when the last of the body armor had been transported to the base. They had even loaded up most of the raw materials such as the bolts of cloth and skeins of the carbon thread used to manufacture the soft body armor and the scissors needed to cut the fabric. They also recovered several of the sewing machines and now the peacekeepers could manufacture some custom items such as children’s clothing if they felt the need.

  When they left the facility for the last time, they had padlocked every door and locked the gate with a heavy chain and padlock. They had a sign printed up that warned visitors that the facility had been used as a repository for dead plague victims, and that it would be extremely dangerous to enter the building. They did this in the hopes that the sign would discourage those who might wish to explore the factory for what they might find of value.

  Pete also learned that one the reasons none of the drivers had been killed during the attack on the convoy was because the innovative drivers had used some of the back plate pieces to mount to the inside of their doors. Therefore, many of the shots that might have otherwise blown a leg off had been stopped at the door. He congratulated the men on their ingenuity, but then ordered them to find some good heavy steel plating to use for that purpose, and then return the back pieces to stores. The trucks could handle the weight of the steel plating. A man couldn’t.

  Pete was in his office in the command bunker contemplating the next major peacekeeper project when the word came over the radio that a large group of heavily armed men had passed through Arley and heading south. Pete had gotten a speaker placed in his office so he could hear incoming messages when he was there. He did this because all too often he had to be summoned to the radio room. He sounded the alert for the crew to board the ship and headed in that direction himself.

  When he arrived, he informed Jim about the message from Arley and the two commanders rushed the arriving strike team into the ship so that they could depart for a reconnaissance of the approaching men. “Full battle armor, just in case,” Jim shouted after the departing men as they ran aboard the ship.

  Sergeant Wilcox waved to acknowledge he had heard the order and then ran up the ramp shouting, “All right, you heard the captain, get that armor on and when you’ve done that you two men check the ammo supply on the bikes.”

  The rest of the crew darted past the two commanders and entered the ship, knowing it was best to be briefed en route. Pete was the last man aboard and the duty guard closed and secured the door, then ran aft to get into his own battle gear.

  “Set a course for Arley, navigator,” Jim ordered and then he explained why. “Patricia, keep a close watch on the radio. Someone out there may transmit messages regarding the group. If they do, I’d like to know what they had to say.”

  “Aye, Captain,” she said and studied her radio intently. She didn’t have long to wait, “Sir, I’m getting a message but it’s very weak.”

  “Do your best to get the gist of what they’re saying,” he requested, and then remained silent so that she could listen.

  “It’s from a town south of Arley. The men are definitely Marauders. They just torched the town, and according to the message, there were hundreds of them. All bikers,” she said looking at Jim in surprise because Jim and Pete had long predicted that eventually a large biker gang was bound to roll through the area.

  Nodding soberly, Jim said, “Thank you for the update. Send a message that help is on the way but don’t specify the nature of the help.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Patricia said, and a few moments later she said, “Done, sir.”

  Tim had a map pulled up on his screen and he said, “I can meet them here, just before they reach that next town to the south.”

  “I’d rather meet them further from a town, but we get what we get. Do your best to give me a bit more space before they will be a threat to innocents,” Jim said.

  “Aye, sir,” Tim said. He understood that one of Jim’s concerns was that the Marauders would take civilian hostages and that he was also a bit concerned about what their own ordinance might do to the town.

  Jim was indeed worried about what would happen should the bikers take hostages. The peacekeepers maintained a no negotiation policy. Intellectually, he knew that was the right stance to take, yet in his heart, he knew that the day would come when someone would severely test their resolve to maintain that policy.

  “Lieutenant, please get Sergeant Wilcox up here,” he ordered.

  “Done, sir,” Patricia reported seconds later.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Jim responded.

  When the sergeant arrived Jim said, “Sergeant, the battle bikes can’t be used this mission. The enemy in this case is a band of hundreds of bikers. That being the case, the battle bikes would almost certainly come under friendly fire in the confusion.”

  “I understand, sir,” the sergeant responded. “What are my orders for this mission then, Captain?” he asked.

  Pointing to Tim’s navigation screen he said, “The green dot is where Tim anticipates we’ll intercept the bikers. There is a small town below that dot. The bikers just burned the last town they went through, so we’ll be engaging them outside the town you see on the map. Your mission is to warn the citizens of that community. Tell them raiders are coming and that they burned the last town, so their homes are
not going to be safe if we can’t hold them. Sergeant, your mission is to get those people out of harms way if they’ll listen. Escort them northeast of the town into the woods and wait to hear from us.”

  “I understand, Captain,” the sergeant said.

  “I hope you do, Sergeant, but just in case you don’t, let me clarify the orders. You are going to have a big job to do and probably scarce little time to do it. You won’t have time to argue with people or beg them to go. If they listen, take them northeast to safety. We’ll be hot on the biker’s tails. But if the bikers get to town and see potential hostages, this is going to get really ugly. So you will get your team out of that city as rapidly as possible with as many people as possible. Argue with no one. You won’t have the time. And, Sergeant, do not tell the people where you’re taking them. Those who refuse to leave will hear you. When their lives are on the line, some would betray you.”

  “That’s a grim assessment, sir,” the sergeant said.

  “But accurate,” Pete said. “You’d be wise to heed Jim in this matter. He’s trying to save your life.”

  “I know, sir, but it’s still a grim assessment,” the sergeant said.

  “Brief your men, Sergeant. Be as specific with them as you have to be to make certain they understand these orders,” Jim said.

  “Yes, sir,” the sergeant saluted. He then turned and walked toward the cargo bay.