by N. C. Reed
“My family are being-”
“You said that already,” Clay interrupted softly. “I asked you some very specific questions, Mister Webb. Suppose you answer them.”
The older man looked flummoxed for a moment or two, things clearly not going as he had anticipated.
“You want to stand around asking me questions while my family are being held prisoner?” he finally managed to get out.
“I'm still waiting,” Clay nodded. “You clearly expect me and my men to rush over there without knowing what we're facing and, as I mentioned earlier, leave our own families unprotected. You seem to want it so badly that you're refusing to provide even the most basic information to me and instead are intent on getting my men and I to run right over there without any knowledge of what we'd be facing. If you wanted me to help your family then you should be willing to tell me what I need to know in order to do that. Since you won't tell me, I have to assume that you have an ulterior motive in coming here and making these demands of yours.” He looked closely at the older man.
“It's almost as if you were allowed to come here and try to flush us out.”
Joshua Webb's face went through a range of emotions right in front of them. His eyes took on the look of someone cornered with no escape in sight.
“When you left here you made it pretty clear what you thought of 'us Sanders',” Clay reminded the older Webb. “Didn't want or need our help, I think you said. Shouldn't have come here was another remark of yours. As I recall, the rest of your family didn't really want to leave, Miss Deborah included, but you were determined to take your family away from here since we were at fault for your son's death, as you saw it.”
“That Jessup boy-”
“Killed himself the day you left,” Clay finished for him. “Shot himself in the head out behind the cabins.”
Webb's face again ran a gamut of emotions, confusion mixed in with everything else as what Clay told him settled on him. But then he was back to a cross between angry and indignant.
“My family needs your help!” he all but yelled.
“We're giving you all the help we can,” Clay assured him. “All we can do is still all we can do. Patricia and Kaitlin and Tandi will give your sons the best care they're capable of. And when they're free, they’ll check on Jasmine as well. But we won't be leaving this farm.”
“So, you’ll just leave my family to die!” Webb shouted.
“Your family was safe here,” Clay reminded him. “Yes, your son was killed and I'm sorry for that, but the blame for that falls squarely on you and the others. The remainder of your family was as safe here as we could make them, you included. You chose to leave that safety, Mister Webb. You chose to leave that safety and go home. That was your choice to make and you had every right to make it. Your family followed you and that was their choice as well. You're the one who left your family to die, Mister Webb,” Clay's voice was calm for all that it was brutal.
“I'm not going to let the same thing happen to our families if I can help it.” Clay stayed silent for a few seconds, judging his words carefully. When he spoke again it was in absolute silence.
“Tell me, Mister Webb,” Clay's voice was soft. “What did they promise you if you could get me and the others off this farm?”
FROM THE AUTHOR
And so concludes another installment of Fire From the Sky. I do hope you've enjoyed this book as well as others in the series.
An important note that I often include in my work is this one. While I strive for realism, there are certain errors concerning equipment or supplies that anyone familiar with them would consider a glaring error or omission. Technically, they'd be right. The simple truth is that I decided long ago that any story I wrote would not enable anyone in doing something criminal or stupid, not with information I provided anyway.
More importantly, I refuse to include information in anything I write that might somehow endanger our service men and women. While it might be realistic to do so, it could also be detrimental, and I have to draw the line at that. It's a tough line to find sometimes, wanting things to be accurate but yet not wanting to include something dangerous that could be used to endanger others.
So, if you see what looks like a glaring error over a certain piece of equipment or a certain way of doing things, it's usually because I've decided not to put whatever it may be in my book. Someone may indeed get the same information and still use it for nefarious reasons, but they won't have gotten it from me. That's really all I have any control over.
I hope you've enjoyed Firestorm, and all the books in this series. Book Five, tentatively entitled “Home Fires” (and don't hold me to that title. It may change, but I do like it right now) will be forthcoming, assuming the Lord allows me to live and do well.
Thank you all for you patronage and support, and for letting me know when you are pleased by my work. I write first and foremost to entertain you. If you aren't entertained then I'm failing. I hope I haven't failed you.
N.C. Reed
