Holding Their Own IV: The Ascent

by Joe Nobody

  Grim chimed in, “Something spooked the husband. He freaked, and they moved out of their room. Here’s the interesting part; Westfield and his boys are all a twitter over something the wife said. Rumor has it that our deceased Commander in Chief told her the Independents weren’t responsible for the attempt on his life.”

  Deke was puzzled by the report. “I read their depositions, and there wasn’t anything in there about that.”

  Deke paced the office floor for a few seconds before continuing. “This is the sort of information the client wants to know. I’ll fill him in immediately. Good job, guys.”

  The enhanced cell phone buzzed in Deke’s pocket. He set down the duffle bag he was packing to answer the voice on the other end of the line.

  “You called?”

  “Yes, sir. There has been an event here at Bliss that I thought you should be aware of.” Deke went on to explain what his men had uncovered.

  The odd hum of static, generated by the satellite relay, was his only response.

  “Are you there, sir?”

  “Yes . . . yes . . . I’m processing this new information.”

  Almost a minute went by while Deke stood quietly, waiting on instructions.

  “There’s been a change in plans,” the warbled voice announced.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The woman who claims to have new knowledge about the assassination attempt on our former president—we need to interview her in private.”

  “I beg your pardon, sir, but I don’t follow.”

  “We need to interview this woman alone, without the act being common knowledge. I want you to detain her and find someplace where she can be debriefed in private.”

  Deke scratched his head, the whole thing not making any sense. “The husband’s not going to just let us waltz off with her into the sunset. What are we supposed to do about him?”

  The response sounded especially cold over the connection. “He has a warrant out for his arrest, a known fugitive. Don’t let him become a factor in all this. Don’t let him get in the way.”

  “So let me clarify—you want us to eliminate this Bishop character and grab his wife? I’m going to need a little more justification and a lot more manpower and assets.”

  The voiced boomed through the small speaker. “You don’t need shit! This is a matter of national security, and directly related to the security of your contracted protectorate.”

  Deke pulled the phone away from his ear, sorely tempted to disconnect the call. Thoughts of going back to his North Carolina home and scavenging for food entered his mind. He fully understood that if he didn’t accept the job, someone else would. Besides, the client had a point.

  After another pause, the voice continued. “Moreland is the new president.”

  Deke was stunned, the news causing his mind to race in an effort to analyze what it all entailed.

  “I understand,” he answered meekly. “We’ll get on it right away. I’m still going to need more personnel and equipment.”

  “Send me the list of what you need.”

  The connection went dead.

  Once again, everyone’s attention in Meraton was drawn to the sky. Main Street was bustling with preparations for the day’s opening of the market. Stalls were being set up, and the air was filled with the aroma of baking bread, cooking meat, and the promise of commerce. Everyone was in a cheery mood because it was Christmas Eve. Several shoppers were waiting, last minute gifts on their minds.

  Overriding the din, a distant whining noise soon morphed into a constant thumping of the air. Pete was talking with Betty when the sound interrupted their conversation. Pete looked to the northwest with a scowl, “Tell me that’s not Santa and the reindeers—he’s early.”

  The small speck gradually grew larger as the Blackhawk helicopter zoomed overhead. Two black stars were painted on the fuselage directly above the stenciled “US Army.” The craft buzzed low over Main Street and then made a slight banking turn above the open desert to the south.

  Betty shielded her eyes from the sun and watched. “News of the market must be spreading, Pete. We’ve got customers flying in from all over.”

  Her remark drew a chuckle from the town’s bartender, who winked and then strode off to see what all the fuss was about.

  The large chopper approached Main on the outer edge of town, slowly losing altitude and lifting its nose. A billowing veil of desert sand rose into the air, surrounding the craft with a thick brown and yellow haze.

  The helicopter landed gently on the ground, its powerful motor slowing to a redundant idle. As Pete and several other onlookers gathered at the end of the market, three dark images emerged from the cloud.

  “I guess word of my new distillery has spread all over—even the army has dropped in to sample a shot,” commented Pete as he watched the soldiers come closer.

  The young officer approached the growing throng of Meraton residents, two armed enlisted men at his side. “We’re looking for a couple who go by the names of Bishop and Terri,” he announced. “I’ve got a warrant for their arrest.”

  Pete glanced at Betty, a look of concern on his face.

  Being an ex-cop, Pete couldn’t help himself and said, “My name’s Pete, and I’m the mayor and law enforcement in this town. Could I see this warrant, young man?”

  Annoyed, the officer reached into his pocket and produced several sheets of official looking papers. Pete began reading, the military men looking impatient and slightly concerned about the ever-increasing number of onlookers surrounding them.

  Pete whistled and scanned the crowd, a huge smile on his face. “Hey everybody, this piece of paper says here that Bishop and Terri are wanted for two counts of assaulting a federal officer, material damage to facilities at Fort Bliss, and theft of a military vehicle. Sounds like our Bishop, doesn’t it?”

  The air was filled with several chuckles and gaffes, one man raising his voice and asking, “Whose ass did Terri kick?” The question was almost immediately followed by someone else commenting, “I don’t know who it was, but they’re damned lucky she didn’t shoot ’em.” The crowd erupted in loud laughter.

  The army officer found no humor in the situation and became unfriendly. “This is a federal law enforcement matter. Has anyone seen these two suspects?”

  Pete folded the papers, and handed them back to the military policeman. “Son, Bishop and Terri haven’t been here in a long time. Even if they were here right now, you won’t find anyone in this town who would help you arrest them.”

  The officer looked at one of his men and then back at Pete. “Harboring a criminal is a serious offense, sir.”

  Pete grinned and shook his head. “There is no federal government here, young man. We’ve been on our own for so long I don’t think anyone recognizes your authority. That piece of paper you just showed me might be valuable as toilet paper, but other than that, it means nothing here.”

  The officer noticed several heads nodding in agreement with Pete’s statement. Betty stepped forward and pointed her finger at the soldiers. “You all come dropping in here and stirring up a ton of dust like you’re God or something. Where were you when we needed medicine, or when bank robbers almost took over the town, or when we needed food?”

  “This is still the sovereign territory of the United States of America. The US Army has authority under declared martial law to enforce rule over this land.”

  Another man stepped forward and spit on the ground. His voice was stern. “There ain’t no USA anymore, sonny. There ain’t no taxes, no elections, and no government. The only thing that holds us together is the people you see around you. I, for one, like it better now that Washington isn’t screwing everything up.”

  Deciding to ignore the remarks, the officer stood on his toes and addressed the crowd in general. “All of you folks, please listen to me. I have a lawful warrant to arrest these two people. If anyone has any information that would assist in the apprehension of these two fugitives, please step forwar
d.”

  One man pushed his way through the throng and stood in front of the officer. “I’ve got some information for you. I’ve seen Bishop in action. The next time you come looking for him, I’d bring a few more men . . . maybe even one of them big tanks of yours.”

  Comments like “That’s no shit,” and “They’ll need more than that if they’re after Terri,” floated above the laughter. The army officer became frustrated and looked at Pete, “We’ll be back. These two individuals will be brought to justice.” The man motioned to his two comrades, turned, and purposefully strode back toward the helicopter.

  Betty looked up at Pete and smiled, “Well, at least we know they’re still alive.”

  Pete nodded, adding, “It’s always good to hear when a hometown boy does well.”

  The crowd began disbursing, random mumblings and murmurs drifting through the air. “They could’ve at least stayed and bought some stuff at the market.”

  Bishop sat on the ATV while Terri used the ladies room behind a nearby outcropping. He estimated they were at least 2,000 feet above Meraton, their roost providing a grand view of the small town. The businesses lining Main Street looked like small specks; the single highway, a dark thread winding its way through the valley. What made the vista even more impressive were the flat, open spaces beyond the town that ended in black, angry looking mountains in the distance. Bishop knew he was probably looking at Santiago Peak, the northernmost point in the Christmas Mountains.

  The peaks’ name reminded him of the quickly approaching holiday, and the need to shop for a gift for Terri. Just like the typical male, he thought, waiting until the last minute to do your Christmas shopping.

  Bishop raised his rifle, the 4-x optic doing little to enhance the details of Meraton. Movement did, however, catch his eye, and he watched, fascinated as a helicopter lifted into the sky and began flying northwest. After a few minutes, he could make out enough detail to realize it was a military bird, and then it dawned on him what the purpose of the Army’s visit might have been.

  Terri’s voice sounded behind him, “What are you looking at, Bishop?”

  “I think I might have underestimated how pissed Agent Powell is. I think they’ve sent people to Meraton to hunt us down.”

  Bishop pointed to the flying helo, now fading into a tiny dot in the western sky. “That copter just took off from Meraton, and I’m sure they weren’t there to enjoy The Manor’s gardens.”

  “Do you think they left people behind to wait on us?”

  “No way to tell, but we should sneak into town. Betty will tell us if we’re stepping into a trap.”

  A few minutes later, Bishop was negotiating the ATV through the foothills of the Glass Mountains, snaking between sheer cliffs and impassable stone formations.

  They decided to hide their transportation on the outskirts of town, leaving the ATV behind Betty’s old bed and breakfast. It was a half-mile walk to Main Street where they found the market in full swing.

  Sneaking in the back gate of The Manor’s gardens, Bishop stored their gear while Terri went to look for Betty. A short time later, Terri returned with Pete, who immediately grasped Bishop’s hand in a robust handshake while proclaiming he was happy the couple had made it back in one piece.

  “I hear you’ve been a busy young man, Bishop.” Pete began. “I hear half of the US Army is out looking for you and this pretty lady. You are officially on the Most Wanted List.”

  Bishop looked around the town, “Pete, I don’t want to bring any more trouble to Meraton. I think we should probably load up the truck and get out before bad things happen.”

  Pete waved him off. “Trouble? Bishop, you and Terri are now officially heroes to most of the townsfolk. It’s not every day we have bona fide outlaws roll into town . . . our very own Bonnie and Clyde.”

  Terri shook her head, “Very funny, Pete. But seriously, we don’t want to be a bother.”

  Pete smiled, “You two stay as long as you want. Just be prepared to be treated like rock stars if you wander out into the market.”

  Bishop looked at Terri, thinking of Christmas. “There are some things I need. Want to go shopping for a bit before everything closes down?”

  Terri pretended to be insulted, “Since you’ve known me, when have I ever turned down a shopping trip, mister?”

  Pete started to turn, but remembered something else. “Oh, and by the way, the market is accepting US currency now. I just thought I’d warn you.”

  Bishop started to ask Pete what that was all about, but he had already turned and walked away. Terri was concerned. “Bishop, do we have any money-money?”

  Digging in his pack, Bishop produced the truck keys. “I think my wallet is in the truck. I know there’s some spare change in the console.”

  Terri clapped her hands in mock joy. “Oh, boy! I get to raid your wallet again! It’s like civilization has returned while we were gone.”

  Two hours later, the happy shoppers returned with a few bundles and sacks of goods. After saying their farewells to their friends, the couple started Bishop’s pickup, and drove west toward the ranch.

  Chapter 7

  Bishop’s Ranch

  December 24, 2015

  Bishop waited until Terri announced she was taking her usual mid-afternoon nap, and then made a beeline for the Bat Cave. It took him a few moments inside to gather his gear, and then his head showed around the corner, peeking out the entrance, making sure the coast was clear. After verifying that Terri was nowhere to be seen, he exited, carrying his loot. He taped a note to the camper door that read, “I need to check the tripwires. Be back soon.”

  Slinking off like a thief, Bishop hastily beat a noiseless path toward the front of the canyon, a bag and length of rope on his shoulder.

  Returning just before dusk, he quickly hid his tools and then checked on Terri, who was just waking up. Hiding the note in his pocket, he bent at the waist, kissed his wife and smiled.

  “Do you know what today is?”

  Terri blinked twice, clearly trying to figure it out. “No, should I?”

  Bishop smiled, obviously pleased with himself—almost gloating. For once, he had been the one to remember a special day. Normally, it was Terri who reminded him of birthdays, holidays, and other special occasions. Not today.

  Brushing back Terri’s hair, he declared, “Well, I’ll tell you later. Right now, I need a favor. I want you to stay in the camper for another 30 minutes or so. I’ll come get you when I’m ready. Deal?”

  Terri’s expression betrayed her curiosity, wondering what Bishop was scheming. She smiled and agreed. “I’ve got to get washed up anyway. I’ll sew that tear in your pants while I’m waiting.”

  “No peeking now,” Bishop said, wagging a finger at his wife.

  After giving Terri a peck on the cheek, Bishop hurried to a boulder up the canyon from the camper and began carrying armloads of firewood toward the spring. He retrieved a five-gallon metal bucket from the Bat Cave and began to heat water on the fire.

  Terri rolled her eyes as Bishop left the camper, almost laughing out loud at his lovable, child-like demeanor. She knew very well it was Christmas Eve, but didn’t have the heart to let him know she was in on the secret. Besides, she thought, it will make my surprise for him even more special.

  She had mended his pants days ago, but kept them hidden. Her current project, hiding in plain sight in the sewing basket, was his main present. She had picked up a few other goodies at the market as well.

  The last light of day was fading quickly when Bishop finished his chore and returned to the camper. Scanning the area one last time, he nodded and smiled. It was perfect. He approached their abode and yelled out, “Terri, can you come help me for a second? It won’t take long.”

  Bishop heard muffled footfalls inside the camper. A few seconds later, the door opened, and Terri's head popped out. “Can it wait just a second, babe, I’m …” Terri froze mid-sentence, her open mouth slowly turning into one of the biggest smiles B
ishop had ever seen. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed around the canyon. “Oh my goodness, Bishop! It’s beautiful!”

  “Merry Christmas, Terri. Do you really like it?”

  Terri didn’t answer at first. She stepped down from the camper, one hand covering her heart. All around the canyon walls, luminaries generated a glow of soft light that warmed the red rock. Bishop had set out dozens of individual candles in nooks and crannies all over the rock formations. The flickering lights cast the stone formations in a gentle radiance that produced a magic atmosphere around their home.

  Terri was simply stunned. “How did . . . when did . . . Oh, Bishop. I’ve never seen anything so wonderful.”

  Bishop smiled, “Welcome to Enchanted Canyon Spa, Madame. The lights should set the mood for your bath. Special water has been drawn for you.”

  Terri’s head pivoted toward the hot tub. What she saw there brought both of her hands to her cheeks, her mouth opening in surprise. All around the pool of water, dozens of candles projected their light onto the canyon wall above. Floating on the surface were several more, gently drifting on small disks made of reflective paper.

  The lights, combined with the reflection from the water’s surface, turned the smooth granite face above the pool into a mural of multi-colored, gently shifting patterns of illumination. “It’s the closest I could get to a big screen TV,” whispered Bishop.

  Terri embraced Bishop but never took her eyes from the display. “It’s almost hypnotic,” she said in an amazed tone. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Bishop kissed his wife on the top of her head. “You should hurry with your bath, ma’am—before the water gets cold. I’ve got one more surprise.”

  The couple strolled to the small pool, Terri’s gaze moving between the surface and the light show above. When they were standing on the edge of the tub, Bishop said, “Stick your toe in and make sure it’s not too hot.”

  Looking up at Bishop with a questioning expression, Terri kicked off her sandal and dipped her toe into the heated water. After a moment, she began smiling again. “It’s perfect!”