by David Nees
Cameron reached back into the vehicle. “This is an unlawful assembly,” he shouted out through his loudspeaker. “I order you to disperse, and I want those men tied to the stakes to be brought over here. I’m putting them under my control as a representative of the federal government.”
The line of militia looked to Leo, who held out his hand and said something to them. He turned towards Cameron and shouted, “You got no authority here. This is a civil matter and it’s being handled by the militia.”
“We let you enforce local laws and regulations. But when it comes to capital punishment, I take over. And since they’re charged with sedition, which is a federal offense, they come under my authority. Release these men.”
As Kevin was talking, the militia on the street were moving in to surround the two Humvees. Kevin looked around the crowd and inwardly cursed as he spotted two shoulder-mounted rocket launchers aimed at each of the vehicles. I should have gotten my men out right away, he thought. Even without the rocket launchers they would be sitting ducks as they emerged. There were about forty militia with automatic rifles pointed at the two vehicles. His machine gunner would not last long, even though he could do a lot of damage with the .50 caliber. The rocket launchers sealed his disadvantage. The crowd was silent, scared of what was about to happen. The militia kept their rifles aimed at him and his Humvees. No one moved.
“What are you going to do, Lieutenant?” Leo called. “Looks like you’re not in a good position. You see those two rocket launchers aimed at your vehicles? If you try anything they’ll open fire, along with the rest of my militia. I think you better leave.”
Just then Kevin noticed a small knot of militia approaching from around the corner, coming from the back entrances of the arena. Walking amidst the guards were Frank Mason and Joe Stansky.
“What’s going on?” Frank asked, his voice harsh and strident in the hush on the street.
“The lieutenant here thinks he has jurisdiction over these condemned prisoners,” Leo said.
“This is a federal crime. These men are to be put in my custody,” Kevin said loudly.
“These men are just like looters,” Frank replied. Kevin could tell he was trying to be smooth, but his voice shook as he spoke. “They’re depriving the town of its rightful resources. They can be, and are being, handled just the way we deal with looters. This is not an army or federal issue.” Beside him, Joe Stansky’s eyes were cold and dark.
“Keep them covered,” Leo shouted to the militia in the street. He grinned at Kevin. “You can stay and watch, but this execution is going to take place. If you attempt to interfere or your men attempt to get out of their vehicles we’ll open fire.”
Inside the Humvee Sergeant Gibbs growled, “We drove right into a fucking trap.”
Kevin turned back toward the open window behind him. “It’s suicide to jump out and fight,” he said quietly. The savage look on Gibbs’s face showed the sergeant’s frustration at being outmaneuvered. Looking over the front fender, Kevin called out to Leo, “I’m putting you on notice. If you execute these men, I’m going to arrest you for murder…along with you, Frank. You can keep them in your custody, but until Captain Roper discusses this issue with Mason and Stansky, these men are not to be harmed.”
With that, he motioned to the rear vehicle to back up out of the crowd. He opened his door and threw himself back into his seat. “Back to base,” he gritted out. He’d get Roper fired up at this affront. Roper would draw the line and put Stansky in his place. A communication to Colonel Stillman could result in a larger force showing up, with some heavy firepower, and all three of those men getting arrested.
Gibbs pulled the Humvee away from the curb, the second Humvee following. In his rearview mirror, Kevin saw Charlie Cook looking after them. As they passed out of the main crowd and headed down the street, he heard the crash of the rifles.
Kevin pounded his fist on the dash, over and over. “Damn them! Those bastards. They wouldn’t wait and let this end sensibly.”
Gibbs’s hands had the steering wheel in a fierce grip, his face still contorted in a fury. “It’s Stansky. He’s showing everyone who’s boss.”
The executed men slumped on their stakes. The crowd shrank back. After a moment, the militia let them quietly disperse.
Most people were sickened and frightened. Many tried to believe that these had been bad men, men who wanted to hold Hillsboro back for their own gain, but, to most people, the prisoners had only looked pitiful.
Others feverishly rationalized that this demonstration had been necessary to keep order. If two malcontents had wanted to subvert progress, well, they had gotten what they deserved. These were hard times, and they called for hard measures. Joe Stansky was right. No one should be allowed to hold back progress, and Joe was going to make sure Hillsboro progressed.
For most, there was now a large lump of fear in the back of their minds. Better not get out of line. Better not draw attention to yourself. Just do your job and keep quiet.
Things will get better, and you don’t want to get in the way of progress.
Chapter 4
Roper looked up in surprise from the readiness report Gibbs had compiled as Lieutenant Cameron and the sergeant stormed into his office.
“What’s up?” he asked. Both Cameron and Gibbs appeared to be very agitated.
Cameron answered with a barely suppressed fury. “Stansky’s group just executed two men…in front of a forced audience. Apparently he had some kind of mock trial in the arena and convicted them of sabotaging the electricity project.”
“How did you find out about this?”
“We got word of a gathering at the arena. Didn’t know what it was going to be about, but it was supposed to be the whole damn town. We were damned late finding out about it. I took two Humvees and some men to check it out. When we got there the men were outside, tied to stakes with a firing squad lined up.”
“And you didn’t stop it?” Roper looked hard at his lieutenant.
“We rode into an ambush. They surrounded us and they had two rocket launchers pointed at the vehicles.”
“Rocket launchers?”
“Looked like MK153s. No way they brought those for anybody but us.” Cameron’s voice still showed his anger as he continued. “I told both Leo and Frank that the men were not to be harmed until you could meet with him and Stansky. They could hold them, but they were not to be harmed. When we left, we heard shots, so I think they carried out the execution.”
Roper put his head in his hands. “Christ almighty,” he muttered. “What the fuck are they thinking?”
Gibbs spoke in almost a growl. “Looks to me like they’re taking off the gloves. Stansky must think he doesn’t need to pretend, and I’m not sure we can oppose him with the firepower he has.”
Roper looked up at the sergeant. “Sergeant Gibbs, I keep finding you in the middle of officers’ discussions. Why the hell is that?”
Cameron spoke quickly and coldly. “Captain, at the risk of sounding disrespectful, that’s a bullshit comment.”
Roper turned to glare at his lieutenant. Before he could speak, Cameron continued, “We don’t have the luxury of standing on protocol. Sergeant Gibbs is experienced and deserves to be in this conversation.”
Roper leaned back in his chair. “All right, I’ll deal with the disrespect later.” He turned to Gibbs. “So do you have some wisdom to impart to us?”
“Not now, sir,” Cameron said. “Right now, I suggest you call Colonel Stillman and get him to send some reinforcements here. We need to arrest these guys and put a stop to this. It’s gone too far.”
“First things first, Lieutenant,” Roper said, his voice icy and full of authority. “That means information. I’ve gone through this readiness assessment and now I’d like to hear what we’re up against.”
He watched Cameron choke off a response. The lieutenant knew that he was right; they needed to have a clear understanding of their position. Roper turned to Gibbs. “Rocket
launchers, Sergeant?”
“Yes, sir. And a hell of a lot more.” Gibbs went on to talk about rifles, machine guns…grenade launchers…mortars…whole armories stripped. Roper had noticed the town militia being better armed with M16s, but….now he began to realize the true tenuousness of his position.
“Sir, that’s why we need to contact the colonel,” Cameron said.
Roper sighed. He couldn’t play the charade out much further. “There’s a problem with that,” he said heavily. “I’ve lost contact with Colonel Stillman, about three weeks ago.”
His two subordinates stared at him. “How can that be?” Cameron asked.
“I don’t know. The radio has power, but the signal doesn’t seem to be getting out and nothing’s coming through. I’m only getting static.”
“Crap,” Cameron said under his breath. “Why didn’t you do something about it?”
“What the hell was I to do? I’ve noticed how powerful Stansky’s gotten. I can count the men. They’ve put up with us only because they think I’m radioing in cheery reports once a week to keep Stillman happy. Would it help to let everyone know the radio doesn’t work? Maybe ask Mason to find me a technician to fix it?”
“Cheery reports?” Cameron said. “So you’re covering for them?” Roper felt a sudden chill as he realized what he had just let slip. “And leaving Stansky alone to do what he wants. Which now includes executing what might be innocent people.”
Roper turned and looked out his window, trying to collect his thoughts. “Why the hell does he go and do that?” he muttered.
“To terrify the population into submission,” Sergeant Gibbs said. “I saw it in Iraq and Afghanistan. It’s an old technique used around the world, if I might be so bold as to add to this conversation.” The last was said with more than a hint of sarcasm.
Roper turned back and scowled at Gibbs.
“Sir,” Lieutenant Cameron said slowly and clearly, “I’m going to be straight up with you, even if you don’t like what I’m about to say.” Roper looked at Cameron, unsure of what would follow.
“Chief Cook has split with Stansky,” Cameron said. “He had a long conversation with us. We know that you’ve been on the take from Stansky. Getting things in exchange for looking the other way and, as we find out now, giving Stillman your cheery reports. We know all about it.”
“That’s a large accusation,” Roper replied. He tried to sound sarcastic, dismissive. “Coming from a Hillsboro cop that’s probably dirty.”
“Captain,” Sergeant Gibbs said. Roper noticed that Gibbs had moved over to his left while he had been talking to Cameron. “There’s no time to dance around this. You know what Lieutenant Cameron’s saying is true. Don’t waste anyone’s time denying it. The issue for me, for the lieutenant, and for the other soldiers in this platoon, is what’re you going to do about it?”
Roper sagged in his seat; a sense of defeat sweeping over him. “I don’t know what there is to do about it,” he said in a low voice.
“From where I stand, you have some options and so do I,” Cameron said. “You have two. You can take a stand with us and do your duty, or you can try to leave, bug out, desert your command.” The lieutenant stared at him for a moment. When Roper didn’t respond, he went on, “I have three options. I could arrest you and hold you for court martial. I could let you slink away, with anyone who’ll go with you—I’ve thought it over, and anyone who’d go with you under these circumstances is someone that I do not want in this unit. Or I could forget about your collusion with the enemy if I think you’ll do the right thing.”
Roper stood up, his eyes blazing in anger. He was ready to reassert rank on his unruly lieutenant when he saw motion in his peripheral vision. Gibbs had drawn his .45 and aimed it at his chest. He stopped still.
“This is insubordination. I’ll have you up on charges,” Roper said in a tight voice.
“I’ll be happy to stand for those charges,” Cameron replied. “I think I’ll be able to produce evidence of your collusion. I’ll have Charlie’s testimony, and I’m sure to find some loot you’ve collected. You probably weren’t taking IOUs. It’s here and I’ll find it. Now if you’re asking me to arrest you, I will.”
“It won’t go so well. You’ll have dissension in the ranks. Not everyone thinks you’re so wonderful. Some of my men will be loyal to me. They’ll think this is goddamned mutiny.” Roper’s head was whirling as his rage grew, fueled by his desperation. He stopped to try to think what to say next. “If you try to take me prisoner, not only will you trigger a split in the ranks, but I’m going to be a burden to you as a prisoner.” He paused to let that sink in. “You’re better off with me just leaving.”
A look of shock and dismay crossed Cameron’s face at Roper’s declaration of willingness to leave. Roper gave him a cold smile. “While you’re thinking this over, remember, if you shoot me, you’ll have a rebellion of your own.”
“I hoped you’d do the right thing,” Cameron said. He shook his head and sighed. “I can’t believe it has come to this. You know this will all come back on you. You’ll never get away with it. Even if I let you go for now, you’ll be considered a deserter and shot.”
“Who’ll report me, you? You’re staying here. You’ll never survive a fight with Stansky.” Roper picked up Gibbs’ report from his desk and waved it at Cameron. “We don’t have enough firepower to stand up to him. I’m not interested in becoming a statistic…MIA or KIA. I’ll take my chances on my own. And the smart troops here will know damn well that this situation is precisely what a strategic retreat is for. Your best bet is to let me leave with those who want to go. That way you won’t have any dissenters in your ranks to worry about. The fools that want to stay and be martyrs can do it. You’re welcome to them, Lieutenant.”
Doubt flickered in the lieutenant’s eyes. Sergeant Gibbs’s face darkened. He looked like he just wanted to just shoot Roper and be done with it.
Roper allowed a slight smile to show. He seemed to have turned defeat into victory. A strategic retreat. Roper liked the sound of the phrase. It would play well when he met up with Stillman, and there wouldn’t be any witnesses to say otherwise. If Stillman chose to come storming back here, guns blazing, he wouldn’t take time to listen to any stories from Stansky or the others. And if Stillman didn’t come back to Hillsboro, that was even better for Roper.
Cameron stared at Roper and spoke crisply. “Sergeant Gibbs, take his sidearm. If he resists, shoot him.” He drew his own pistol.
Roper looked at Cameron in some confusion.
“Against what my emotions tell me, I’m going to let you leave…with whoever wants to go, after I’ve explained the situation to them. You get one truck. And you don’t get to take your loot. That’s blood money and you’ll never see it again. If it wasn’t for you giving these bastards cover, we’d have intervened a year ago and Stansky wouldn’t have gotten to this point.” Cameron’s face was red with anger. He stepped around Roper’s desk, opposite Gibbs, and moved close to Roper’s face. “You could have exposed all this to Colonel Stillman while we had the upper hand, the firepower. No, you let him depart, thinking everything was fine, and then you let your men, the men you took an oath to lead and be loyal to, fall into an indefensible position. You disgust me.”
The slap was like a gunshot. Roper never saw it coming. He reeled backward, catching himself against the desk.
“You just assaulted a senior officer. That could get you a long time in the stockade.” Roper felt his lips swelling, felt blood dripping down his chin.
“No, I didn’t,” Cameron said. “I just subdued a prisoner who was trying to escape. Isn’t that right, Sergeant Gibbs?”
“That’s the way I saw it, Lieutenant,” Gibbs replied. He stepped forward and shoved Roper back into his chair.
Cameron spoke to Gibbs as if Roper weren’t present. “You go find some handcuffs. Do we have any?”
“Yes, sir.”
Cameron stepped to the rear of the office and
opened the door to a utility closet. There was a sink with a drain pipe running through the wall. “We’ll cuff him to the pipe. He’ll be safe and quiet here. What you do next is find Wilkes and collect all the men you’re certain aren’t going to side with Roper. Have them quietly assemble with their weapons. Tell the others you’re assembling a team to arrest Frank Mason. The ones who are in on the graft probably won’t want anything to do with that.”
“What do we do about the others? The ones that might end up siding with him. You want to let them go? And are you going to let this piece of shit go?”
“Much as I don’t want to, he’s right.” Cameron scowled down at Roper. “I don’t want to have to worry about him, or the other men. We’ve got a hell of a fight coming and I don’t know how it’s going to play out. But it’s not going to be easy—and we’re not going to wind up becoming martyrs like this asshole says.” Cameron stared at the office door for a moment. “I think we get the men we’re sure of armed up, then we assemble everyone. The others won’t have their rifles since they’re in camp. You see to that. Then I’ll address the whole platoon, tell them what’s been going on, and give them the choice—stay and fight with us, or leave and throw their lot in with Roper.”
“What about the ones I don’t arm who say they’ll stay? Do I let them have weapons?”
Cameron thought for a moment. “No. They need to remain unarmed. At that point, the men we know are loyal to us will be keeping the rest under guard. No one moves. If any of them aren’t telling the truth, they won’t have a weapon until the others have left with Roper.” He shook his head. “I don’t think anyone will want to fake a desire to stay and be stuck here if they really want to go. There’s no upside for them.”
Roper was seething with indignation. “You can’t send us out without weapons. We have to be able to defend ourselves.”
The look he got from Cameron was dark and dangerous. “I can do whatever I want to do,” Cameron replied.
“There may be men who go with me because I’m the senior officer,” Roper lashed back at Cameron. “Because they see your actions as mutinous. They don’t deserve to be cast out with no ability to protect themselves.”
