Excess Baggage

by Pete Lister

  Drew loaded himself up, and gave small .38s to both women. Ashley laughed at the idea of putting a gun in her purse, and was offended when Drew handed her the little J-model Smith & Wesson. Digging into John’s duffel, she pulled out a 9mm auto. She pulled a holster out of John’s duffel and clipped it on. Pulling out her blouse and letting it hang outside her jeans, she looked in the mirror and pronounced herself satisfied.

  “Ashley, honey, do you know how to use one of those things?” Dianne asked her.

  Ashley laughed. “I was in the Air Force for six years. I was an AP, a cop. I can shoot as well as Drew and outfight most men.” John snorted from the driver’s seat.

  “Then you can outshoot me, and I’m a pretty good shot.”

  “Well, I’m pleased to see that the distaff side is equally represented here.” Dianne noted, pulling a can of pepper spray from her purse. “I can shoot if I have to, but quite honestly, I’d prefer using this at short range.”

  § § §

  As they approached St. Louis, the RV crossed the Poplar Street bridge over the Mississippi. Drew was riding shotgun, John still driving.

  “Drew, keep your eye on that SUV. Sometimes he disappears, then he comes back. I’m beginning to think he’s got a partner here somewhere that we don’t know about. They could be switching to throw us off. If the SUV doesn’t follow us, see if any other vehicles do.”

  John left the freeway at exit 39A, and the SUV kept going. After a left on Market Street and a right on Jefferson, John pulled over to the curb. “Anybody get off with us?”

  “Sure did. That gray Buick that just went past us was the only one.”

  “That’s the one that pulled into the rest stop right behind us.”

  John sat there for another twenty minutes before pulling back out onto Jefferson. Where Jefferson ended at the ‘T’ with MLK, he pulled into the RV park.

  “Dianne, why don’t you girls go in and register us?” John asked. They had coordinated IDs before leaving Milwaukee, to make sure they were using the ID that matched the registration on the RV.

  “You see him?” John asked his son.

  “Yup. It’s the Buick. He’s sitting across the street. I’ll bet if we watch, we’ll see the SUV pull up behind him in a couple of minutes.” Dianne and Ashley returned, and they pulled into a spot just down from the office. Fortunately, after they pulled in, they could see straight out the gate.

  John and Drew were putting down the leveling braces when Drew said, “The SUV just pulled up behind the Buick.”

  “Drew, I’m going around the camper so I can slip out of the campground over behind the office. They can’t see me from there. I’m going to rent another car. While we’re out here, don’t put down the braces. Just let them down like we’re checking them, then retract them. After I leave, I want you to make sure Dianne and Ashley stay nearby. In fact, if you start a fire in the grill, it’ll look like we’re settling in.

  “I’ll call you when I’m on my way back. I want you to get the girls inside as soon as I call. Don’t make it look like an evacuation. Have two of you inside at all times while I’m gone. Then, when I call, have someone inside answer the phone. Whoever’s outside can come in, casually. Pull out to the gate and sit. I won’t be more than a block away. When you see me, just pull out and follow me back to the car rental office.”

  “Okay, Pop. Is this going to be another one like at the house?”

  John smiled. “Similar, but with a twist. I think you’ll like it.” With that, John stood up. Keeping his hand on the camper and looking up, like he was inspecting the roof line, he walked around the far side of the camper. Drew went inside and explained John’s plan to their wives.

  The evening breeze was rustling through the trees as Dianne came out to start a fire in the built-in grill next to the parking pad. After a couple of tries, it caught, and she returned to the RV. Ashley brought out a plate of hamburgers and went back inside. Drew came out with a can of beer and settled down on the picnic table to watch the grill. The burgers were turning to charcoal, but he just sat and watched them, keeping an eye on the two vehicles across the street.

  Drew heard the phone ring and looked up. Dianne was in the doorway, nodding. He stood up and walked slowly into the camper, pulling the door shut behind him. Retracting the steps, he took the wheel, started the engine, and slowly started pulling out of the campsite.

  As he approached the gate, he could see the men in both the Buick and the SUV watching him intently, and both vehicles started their engines at the same time. Looking both ways, Drew noticed a small white Toyota speeding eastbound on MLK, then slowing and signaling for a right turn onto Jefferson. Suddenly, the little car turned wide, crossing the center line, and an arm came out of the driver’s window.

  He saw the muzzle blasts before he heard them, and he watched, fascinated, as his father pumped shots into the left tires on both vehicles parked along the curb, then sped away south on Jefferson. Easing the RV across MLK, Drew followed the Toyota up the block and past the two disabled vehicles, now swarming with angry men who stood and watched him drive by.

  After returning the rental car, the Sherrys headed west on I-70.

  “How the hell did they find us?” Drew asked, directing the question to no one in particular.

  “My guess?” John told him. “I doubt that they picked us up when we were at the house. I’d have to guess that one of them saw us driving through Milwaukee, absolute serendipity. Everybody has a cell phone today. It probably didn’t take them half an hour to muster a posse. What concerns me now, though, is, where do you suppose they think we’re going next?”

  “Well, they already know we’re headed west. I doubt they can get those tires replaced fast enough to get back on the road and catch us. So, where can we go that they wouldn’t expect?” Ashley said.

  “Dianne, would you find us a route to the Black Hills that gets us off this freeway? Maybe someplace like Custer, South Dakota.” Drew asked her. “I’m thinking they’re going to have to throw darts to figure out our next move. They can hardly second-guess us. We don’t even know where we’re going. But I’m pretty sure we should get off the interstate for a while.”

  “So what’s in the Black Hills?” John asked.

  “Casinos!” Ashley answered.

  “Well, kind of. They only offer blackjack and slots, but no one will find us there. We can plant ourselves at an RV park in some place like Custer and relax, while we decide what to do next. Mr. Shiv Thompson’s boys aren’t going to accidentally stumble over us, either.”

  “Here’s another thought,” said John. “I think we need to sell this thing and find new wheels. We know they’ve got our description and license number. That means they have the ID we bought it with. We need to purge another account and replace this rig as soon as possible. I know what I’d do if I was Shiv. I’d report it stolen.”

  “If we got stopped by some cop who thought it was stolen, couldn’t you just show him your ID?” Dianne asked. “If the ID matches the registration, there’s no justification for holding you, right?”

  “You’re absolutely right, honey, but there’s a record of the stop. And, the cop would probably call the department that reported the theft to find out what’s going on. That would have to be one of Shiv’s pet cops. I think our next project has to be replacing our ride.”

  Dianne started typing and five minutes later looked up. “John, get off the freeway at Wentzville, that’s exit 209. There’s an RV dealer there, Bill Thomas, on the left off May Road. I’m thinking we drop the kids off down the block, and you and I go in and sell the camper. The kids can walk in and buy one. We can be back on the road in a couple hours.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Drew, Ashley?”

  “Works for me, let’s do it,” said Drew. “But, we should get a room in Wentzville, first. We can unload our stuff there, and reload later. I’d hate to think we were going to all this trouble to change vehicles, just to have somebody notice that one customer drove
in and sold his RV, and half an hour later, another customer walked in and bought one. Then, the first customer unloaded all his stuff, including bags of cash, into the second customer’s RV, and off they all went.” Everyone started laughing at that picture.

  “You’re right. We better hit a motel and get a room.”

  § § §

  John took a bath on their silver RV when he sold it that afternoon, but they needed a quick sale. The next morning, Drew had one of his banks make a wire transfer to the dealer for a slightly larger one in high-gloss white livery with scarlet pinstripes, and no one at the dealership made the connection.

  By spelling each other at the wheel, they were able to drive straight through to the Black Hills. They took the back roads to Des Moines, then got back on the freeway, taking I-80 to Omaha, then I-90 to Rapid City, where they left the freeway for the last 40 miles into Custer.

  They registered at the Beaver Lake Campground and backed the RV into a full-service pad in the woods. It was a beautiful setting, and the Sherrys finally felt like they could relax.

  § § §

  Shiv picked up his phone, waiting for the good news from the boys. It was Ralph di Stasio. “Shiv, you heard from Jack, yet?”

  “No, why, you heard anything?”

  “No, but I figured the boys might need some skids greased if the shit hits the fan. You know, there’s always a certain risk factor when they’re out of town.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I just got off work. I’m on my way home. How’re the guys from the Milwaukee stake-out?”

  “Their heads are bandaged, and they’re embarrassed, but they’ll live.”

  “Did they say what happened?”

  “They said they didn’t know. Frank was in the garage, and Steve was in the alley. Steve said a car pulled into the alley in front of him, and as it came down the alley, it plowed into him, head on. His head bounced off the windshield and the first thing he knows, a guy sticks a cannon in his face and drags him out of the car. He says the guy ties him up with those plastic ties the cops use and drags him into the back yard and somebody whacks him on the head. When he come to, he was tied up like a cow at a rodeo, laying in the grass next to Frank. Next thing he knows, the yard is full of cops and paramedics.

  “Frank says he was watching the house through the garage door, when he heard the crash in the alley. He says he knew it was Steve, ‘cause it was so close. He went out to see what was what, and came to in the backyard next to Steve. Then they were cut loose and there were cops and paramedics all over the place. Steve’s car was wrecked and Frank’s car was gone.”

  “Cops found Frank’s car downtown Milwaukee a couple hours later, parked outside the Pfister Hotel, wiped clean, no prints. The cops said there was no sign of anybody going into the house. After everything was cleaned up, I had gave them a couple days off. They both had concussions. I got a couple more boys watching the house, now.”

  “You think it was Sherry?”

  “Who else? The boys tell me nobody went near the kid’s house, but the old man’s place is hit, and somebody busts up both my guys. The only way there’s no signs of forced entry is he used a key. I had the boys go through the house after the cops left, but they couldn’t find no sign anything was moved or taken. Wait a minute, Ralph, gotta run. I got a call comin’ in on the other line. Yeah, hello.”

  “Shiv, Jack.”

  “Jack, gimme good news.”

  “Wish I could, Shiv. We followed them to an RV park downtown St. Louis. They checked in and we pulled in across the street. We’re sitting there watching the damned place for maybe twenty minutes when they start up and get ready to pull out. We started up and waited to follow them when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, this goddam little white car comes around the corner, tires squealing, and shoots out tires on both our cars.

  “We jump out of the cars, but this bastard’s gone up the block in traffic, and the RV cruises right past us, slicker’n shit. Shiv, I’ve never seen anything like this. We know they were all in the RV, we were watching the whole time. I don’t know who was driving and shooting from that white car. Shiv, who the hell are these guys? ‘Cause I’ll tell you who they’re not! They’re not some two-bit bus driver and some old retiree. These guys got cover everywhere they go. They gotta be some kind of connected.”

  “Jack, Jack! Calm down. You guys are gonna gimme a stroke, I ain’t shittin’ you. I heard of operations not hitting on all cylinders, but this wet dream ain’t hit a goddam cylinder, yet! How the hell? Oh, shit, never mind. Get the tires fixed and get your asses back here. Sonuvabitch!”

  § § §

  14

  John Sherry had spent most of the day on the laptop, sitting in the front seat of the RV. He hadn’t said anything in hours, just sat there typing and reading with a dour look. Dianne was concerned enough to slip into the driver’s seat.

  “John, honey, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just got an e-mail from my old Army outfit. Some of the guys I served with are going back.”

  “That hardly seems to justify the long face.”

  Drew moved into a captain’s chair behind Dianne “Pop, why don’t you go, too?”

  “It’s in Da Nang.”

  “Pop, I never asked before, but where were you?”

  “South of Da Nang. A couple of weeks after I got there, that was the end of October, ’65, my outfit got dropped into the middle of a hornets’ nest. It took us a while to get out, and we took some pretty bad casualties.”

  “What outfit were you in?”

  “Bravo Company, 1st of the 7th.”

  “Jesus Christ. You were 7th Cavalry, Custer’s old outfit?”

  “Yup, that was us. I’ll tell you, when they dropped us in LZ X-ray in the Ia Drang Valley, I thought I’d never see Wisconsin, again. about four hundred and fifty of us went in. I remember afterwards one of my sergeants saying that he knew what Custer felt like.

  “Anyway, after they dropped us, we deployed to these trees in the middle of the LZ. Capt. Herron sent three or four squads out to reconnoiter the area. We weren’t there very long before Sgt. Mingo comes back with this NVA. They took him to see the captain, and next thing I know, it turns out we’re faced with about a million NVA on this mountain in front of us, and none of them seemed to like us.

  “ About an hour after we got there, three platoons of us were sent off to patrol northwest of the LZ, and about an hour after we left, it was like the hills opened up on us. Our lieutenant got killed, and a sergeant was in charge, and then the sergeant was down, and another one took charge. We had about eight dead and a dozen or so wounded, but we held that crummy little hill. It was so hot we couldn’t even get dust-off.”

  “What’s dust-off?” Dianne asked.

  “That’s a medical evacuation helicopter. ‘Dust-off’ was the call sign of the first medevac outfit, the 57th, that was in ‘64. After that, any medevac flight was called a dust-off.

  “Anyway, we were cut off. They couldn’t get us any help, ‘cause the rest of the outfit was pinned down around the LZ. I remember that sergeant who was in charge, I can’t remember his name, but he was calling in artillery strikes almost on top of us.

  “They attacked us three times that night, and we managed to beat them back each time, without losing any more guys. We held until they got to us around mid-afternoon the next day. We’d been there about twenty-four hours, and had twenty-two out of twenty-nine guys killed or wounded. They got us back to the LZ, and the seven of us who hadn’t been hit dug in with the guys holding the LZ.

  “I’ll tell you what, though. We never would have made it if it hadn’t been for those Hueys. It was so hot, even the dust-off birds wouldn’t land. Then these two jokers flying Hueys dropped out of the sky, dumped out ammo and water, picked up our wounded, and took off. Those two guys flew for the rest of the day, without back-up. We never would have made it without them. I heard they got Medals of Honor. God knows they deserved it.


  “Funny thing, though, we had this reporter with us, covering The War,” John held up his hands, making quotation marks with his fingers, “for the readers back home. He went out with us that day, God only knows why. When the shit hit the fan, he picked up a rifle and started shooting back. I heard he pulled a couple of wounded guys in, too. The Army gave him a Bronze Star. They said he was the only civilian ever got one.

  “Just before dawn the next morning, they hit us, again. Our artillery cut them up pretty bad, and they fell back, but twenty minutes later, they came back. We beat them back, again, twice more, before dawn. After that, we started getting reinforced, and that afternoon, they pulled us out.”

  “Christ almighty, Pop, I never knew you were at Ia Drang.”

  “I didn’t find it entertaining enough to talk about.”

  “I can believe that.”

  “So,” Dianne said. “When are we going? I’ve never been to Asia.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “What, you have a previous engagement?” she asked him, with a smile.

  “I’m just not sure I want to. I’m not sure I’d want to face the memories.”

  “Pop, let me ask you something. Aren’t you facing the memories now? You know you’re going to be thinking about this, anyway. Maybe this would be a chance to bury your demons. You’d be surrounded by friends and family, no one would be shooting at you. You know, the guys who shot at you last time will probably be running the hotel.”

  “Let me think about it.” Climbing out of his seat, he went out the door and walked slowly into the surrounding trees. Dianne slipped out the driver’s door and joined him, slipping her hand into his.