by Cliff Deane
Dad, I hope you are not disappointed in me, and I hope you really do understand.”
“Son,” said Gus, “I am so very proud of you, and yes, I do understand how you feel. I just hope you also understand how I feel. Darren, I do not believe that I will ever return to Defiance because the pain in my heart and the bloodlust I feel towards anyone who would do the things they did to your mother and sisters can never be quenched.
I will kill them until one of them kills me, and I am happy to learn that your closure is possible. I love you son, and I am so proud of you. You could never be a disappointment to me.
What about Kate?”
“What about her, Dad?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I thought maybe you two were working on an understanding, of sorts.”
“Yes, sir, early on I did sort of have some ideas, but I think I’d rather find someone a bit more like me, and less like you; no offense!”
“No offense taken, son; but have you ever spoken to Kate about any of this?”
Darren’s voice dropped to a little above a whisper when he said that they had touched on the subject, and they both felt that it probably would not work.”
“Good, I’m glad the air is now cleared with her, and don’t worry about Levi, I’ll talk to him, and I know, without a doubt that he already knows, and understands. You are a good man, Darren, and I am proud to call you my son.
Now, let’s get some sleep before I start blubbering.”
“Thanks, Dad, good night.”
◎
22 April 0700-1900
Crew Camp
NW of Suffolk
Though the rain had stopped, the morning dawned gray and dreary. A cold wind blew over the land reminding everyone of late fall. The sandy ground was soft and wherever anyone walked the trail was far too easy to follow.
Levi told the crew that there would be no attacks today.
The weather improved throughout the day, and by mid-afternoon, the skies had cleared. The winds grew warmer drying the sandy ground which quickly absorbed the water. The plants, both living and rotting were now well watered and would make no noise as the team approached their target.
As the ground dried so quickly, it was decided that one name would be drawn from a hat identifying one of Bull’s Outposts to be hit that night.
The backup team would set up an ambush along the road forming a rear guard and the other team would hit the target.
Kate was selected to flip a coin to decide which team would get the honor of striking the first blow in the war against King Bull. Team Badger won the toss and Gus would lead the initial assault.
◎
Team Dogg began their search for the Vigilantes at the ambush site where Little Sammy was hung. They walked along the road bordering the site and found the remains of two explosions, and only recovered very small pieces of burnt plastic. Still, they saved them and continued their walk until they came upon several hundred steel casings.
The searcher called for Dogg and showed him the find. Dogg said, “This must be where our guys put up their fight. I wonder why we don’t find more casings. It seems to me that ten guys would have left a lot more casings behind; unless most of them were killed in the first volley.”
Dogg was still unable to make the connection between the blast sites, and the small pieces of burnt plastic…the claymores…perhaps if they had found the remaining wire.
◎
22 April 2300
Camp Levi
NW of Suffolk
A planning session had been held earlier and using an old paper Atlas map of Virginia they were able to find Franklin, no more than two miles, as the crow flies, from where they stood. During this meeting, it was also decided that Tim and Kate would be the designated crossbow users as either of them could take out a target at seventy-five yards, every time.
It was decided to take the old pickup from Bull’s Motor pool. Once the attack was over Team Badger would make their way back to the road, mount up and return home. Though, it was decided that when they departed the area, the driver would turn the truck in the opposite direction of their camp and spin the tires, leaving rubber tracks facing the wrong way; they would then turn back around and return to base camp.
At 2300 hours the crew mounted the truck and under blackout driving protocols made their way to the drop-off point one mile from the Franklin site.
Team Badger made their way in single file, patrol formation and was led by Tim, the designated point man. Using his compass and counting steps, Badger only missed the Franklin outpost by three-hundred yards. The fire Bull’s men had built to keep off the night chill guided Badger directly into position.
At the one-hundred yard mark, Tim halted the patrol and began a recon of the area for LPs, booby traps, or alarms. At a distance of fifty meters, Tim’s night vision goggles picked up the clear image of a man and the telltale ember of a cigarette glowing just ahead.
Tim carried the crossbow by a sling on his back. He quietly removed the crossbow from his back and with stealth gained from long hours of practice made his way to within twenty meters of the smoking fool.
Tim almost felt sorry for this man who had no inkling that his life was about to be snubbed out just like the butt of his cigarette. As he sighted in on his target, his finger edged the safety to the fire position, placed that finger into the trigger guard and let his short arrow fly. The arrow passed through the guard’s heart and pinned him to the tree that was supporting him.
Continuing his recon, Tim found no more OPs, traps, or alarms along their path. He knew that the real downside here was that Bull’s crew would learn and create more secure perimeters, but not tonight.
Crawling back to Badger 6, Tim reported that the coast was now clear for them to approach and do the deed.
Once they settled into their shooting nests, only twenty-five meters from the outpost. Badger 6 saw three men, all standing around a fire barrel, talking and smoking.
The signal to fire was the shot from Gus. Within one second following the initial shot, the other two also fired, but another two shots were required as one target received three bullets. The silenced weapons made so little sound that everyone else near the outpost remained asleep. The team waited for five minutes for an alarm to sound. When none came, Tim and Darren slipped down to leave a couple of messages for Bull’s boys.
Message one was a sign saying:
This garbage pile is provided to Bull’s Boys
Compliments of the Vigilantes.
Are you scared, yet?
You should be.
We are The Vigilantes
The second message was a hand grenade wedged under the dead OP. As Tim left he did two additional things; he slashed the sidewalls of the tires on the only truck at the outpost, and after placing a thick rubber band around a grenade and its handle. He pulled the pin and dropped the grenade into the gas tank. It would take a few .hours to dissolve the rubber band, and then there would be quite an explosion.
Darren and Tim policed up all of the weapons, ammo, and canned food.
The war on Bull’s Boys was now official.
Team Badger then made their way back to the road, and all were in bed by 0300.
◎
23 April 0550
Outpost Franklin
The man in charge of Outpost Franklin was Homer Halston, aka Big Time. He arose at 0540 and was pissed because he knew that the guards had fallen asleep and did not wake the next shift at 0400.
He said to the other four men in the tent that he was personally going to kick some ass when he woke those worthless fuckers.
Stomping out of the tent, BT marched up to the roadblock and stood stock still when he saw the bodies on the ground by the dying embers of the barrel fire.
His attention was drawn to Big Al and the sign on his chest.
He shouted, “Joe, Tony, go find Tiny and get him in here; the rest of you spread out and see if you can find a trail. I want you back here in ten minutes for burial
detail. Shit, shit shit, raged Big Time; how did we not hear shots fired?”
As Joe was leaving to retrieve Tiny’s body, he said, “I don’t know Big Time, but what I do know is that Bull is gonna’ be pissed at us, really pissed. We need to talk about that.”
Big Time knew that Joe was right, and he did not want to be the source of Bull’s rage; that just never worked out well.
At 0604 Joe and Tony joined the body count as they pulled Tiny’s body from the tree, freeing the grenade wedged under his left buttock.
Ten minutes later at 0608 everyone returned and said that they had found nothing. These men were not exactly trained trackers and had no idea that the newly watered plants quickly recovered their shape, hiding most of the trail within minutes.
BT, and what was left of his crew were standing around the pickup truck trying to figure out how to repair the slashed tires when their time on Earth ran out at 0615 when the rubber band dissolved and released the handle of the grenade. Five seconds later all of the Outpost Franklin crew were dead, and one truck was destroyed.
A small piece of cardboard with writing on it fluttered back down to Earth about fifty feet from the blast.
The distant explosion was heard at 0615 all the way to Bull’s HQ.
◎
23 April 0930
Camp Levi
NW of Suffolk
The crew slept in until 0900 before having breakfast and delivering a full briefing to Levi.
Once the final details were in, Levi said, “Great job Badger. I wish I could say that they will all be this easy, but we all know even these igmos will learn and improve, so please, let’s not get overconfident.”
Darren, who rarely spoke during these meetings asked, “Igmos, sir?”
“Igmos are ignorant morons.”
◎
23 April 1030
Bull’s HQ,
Suffolk
Dogg and his crew were dispatched to the Franklin Outpost to try to figure out what had happened.
When Dogg briefed Bull on his findings, he told him that the destruction of the Outpost and the killing of the guards was definitely a result of a Vigilante attack.
When Bull asked if he was sure, Dogg handed him the sign.
“Dogg, I need for you to find out if any of the idiots working for us have any military experience. If you find any bring them back here ASAP.”
Dogg left to find an infantryman. What he found were two former soldiers and one Marine; they held general to dishonorable discharges, but Dogg thought that together they might suit the Boss’ needs, so he took them all to Bull’s office.
The one commonality among the three prior servicemen was that they all agreed on, was outer security with things like noise makers, trip wires, LPs, and such.
Bull accepted the fact that these hung over morons did have a point about security. It must be expanded outward from the actual roadblock. He also knew that he didn’t want these men in charge of such an important project. Then again what choice do I have, none of my guys are exactly Harvard grads, thought Bull.
He called in his second-in-command, Chris Benton, aka CB and told him to get some OPs and noise makers around the Outposts.
◎◎◎
Chapter 6
The Alliance
23 April 1000
Camp Levi
NW of Suffolk
“Tim,” said Gus, “Levi and I want you and Kevin to find out exactly how much of the town Bull actually controls. Find out if there is any resistance movement and if there is go ahead and make contact. If you do make contact, go ahead and set up a meeting for us. Roger?”
“Yes, sir we can be ready to leave right after we wash up if that’s okay?”
Gus smiled and said, “Of course it is; when you’re ready.”
“Roger that, sir,” said Tim as he turned to find Kevin.
Levi walked up during the conversation and added, “And, you make sure you get home before dark, you hear me, young man?”
Tim turned to Levi and laughing said, “Yes, Mom, we know, before the street lights come on.” Tim was still laughing as he entered the tent he shared with Kevin.
Kevin was cleaning his M4A1 Infantry Assault Rifle when Tim came in. “What’s so funny?”
Gus is sending us on a mission, like right now, and Mother Levins reminded me to have us home by dark.”
Kevin smiled at the joke and asked, “Ok, now that you’ve promised Mom we’d be home by curfew; what’s the mission?”
Tim was still in fine humor from the exchange with Levi and said, “Well, funny thing you should ask because I was just about to tell you. The Head Shed wants us to slip into Suffolk and do a little recon; find out what Bull actually controls, and to see if there is any resistance; organized, or even any lone wolf action.
Ten minutes, Roger that?”
“Yup, I was born ready,” said Kevin as he finished up cleaning his “piece,” and began a rapid reassembly.
They took light packs consisting of a water bladder, IR scope, two MREs, four extra magazines, one laser light for each rifle and pistol, two Picatinny mountable lights, and a poncho. Under the pack each man wore his “under armor,” and tac vest holding six rifle mags, six pistol mags four grenades, and a whistle. This mission would call for their gray ROA uniform and soft cap.
Strapped to their thighs were drop-down holsters for their side arms and their Baby Fairbairn combat knives.
They reported their readiness for departure and made their way via pickup truck heading west, on Kings Fork Rd, away from Suffolk to Indian Trail and wound their way around Hall Avenue and Virginia Street. They would hide the truck in plain sight among the other dead vehicles along the road.
Things didn’t go exactly as planned because a roundabout route was obviously longer and like most roads, was somewhat difficult to negotiate. Still, they did make it to their destination of Hall and Virginia, but not in a reasonable time frame to accomplish the full mission and still be home before dark.
Tim decided to spend one hour checking out the immediate area and then head back home. He believed that the mission could take as much as forty-eight to seventy-two hours.
Their limited recon did find a Citgo station, and Kevin decided to see if there was still fuel in the underground tanks, so he opened the cover and used the scientific method of dropping a rock into the tank and then listening for a splash. Sure enough, science paid off, and he did hear a splash.
Returning to their vehicle, they drove back to the Citgo station and using a hand crank pump, topped off the fuel tank.
As they were finishing a voice came from a nearby covered position. “Hold it right there, and don’t even think about reaching for one of them fancy assed guns you got there. Now, what you do is just lay all your weapons down, nice and easy like, then remove your tactical vest and take three steps in front of y’alls gear.
Three other voices made their presence known to prove that Tim and Kevin were thoroughly covered, so they followed orders.
Good job, now y’all just lay down on the ground, and if you’re good, we might could talk some. That sound good to y’all?
Tim told the voice that he thought talking was a very good idea.
Once they were on the ground, they were immediately surrounded by four heavily armed people.
The leader told them to go ahead and sit up, but to stay real loose. After looking both Tim and Kevin over the leader said, “Are those ROA uniforms?”
Tim told him they were and asked if they were fighting Bull, or working for him.
The leader spat on the ground and said, “I ought to shoot you for even askin’ if we’re a part of that bunch of murderin’ bastards, but since you are ROA, I’ll cut you some slack…once.
Now, tell me, why you are in Suffolk, and y’all ever heard of some folks called the Vigilantes?”
Tim said, “Well sir, my name is Staff Sergeant Tim Carter, and my friend here is Sergeant Kevin Simms; we’re here on a recon mission, and looking
for assholes like Bull and his ilk. Oh, and we are the Vigilantes, well, the rest of the unit helps a little. May I now ask about you?”
The Deep South, good old boy accent fell mostly away, and the leader said, “My name’s Adam Ward; I lead the Resistance in this part of Suffolk. To the west of our area, there’s another group run by my friend, Susan Turner.”
Tim interrupted and said, “Mr. Ward, would you be willing to return with us to our camp and speak with our commander?”
“Well, I don’t know about that, but maybe we could meet somewhere in the middle. How’s that sound?”
“That might work, but I’d have to clear it with the Boss. May I reach into my pocket and get my map?”
“Sure, go ahead, we’re all friends here, right?” said Ward.
“Absolutely,” said Tim as he opened the map and asked Ward to pick a point about a mile from where they were located.
“Adam Ward looked at the map and asked from which direction Tim would be coming.”
“Mr. Ward, that doesn’t matter, please, just pick a spot, and we will be there at the appointed time, say, the day after tomorrow; sound okay?”
Ward looked at Tim and said, “Careful, I see; good, I like that. Well, let’s see, since you came in from the west, what say we meet right here at 0800,” and he pointed to a house on the right at the intersection of Cottonwood and Davenport Court. “It’s the one with a swimming pool; you can’t miss it, and since we are going to be friends, y’all can call me Adam.”
