by Chris Pike
A speedy exit sounded like the best plan, and they had to find cover fast.
Both men burst through the glass doors. Virgil jumped into the freshwater pool on his right, while Nico followed suit. A volley of shots filled the air, peppering the glass doors, disintegrating them into a pile of broken glass and bent metal frames.
Virgil and Nico made themselves small, submerging in the shallow pool, with only the topmost portion of their heads vulnerable to incoming fire.
Shots rang out.
Puffs of concrete particles raining down on them indicated the aim of the Hyatt reinforcements was improving.
Johnny Ringo and Doc Holiday saw the Hyatt snipers snap to attention as if they had seen a target of opportunity. With their scopes trained on their targets, all they needed was a trigger press. Johnny and Doc shot in tandem with perfect precision. The Hyatt snipers disappeared, leaving a trail of pink mist wafting in the air.
Johnny and Doc exchanged satisfied glances.
* * *
“Wait,” Virgil said. “Did you hear that?”
“I think we just got our asses saved.” Nico caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned around. “Run!”
Armed men appeared near the obliterated glass doors of the Hyatt hotel, shooting while they walked.
Nico and Virgil rocketed out of the shallow pool and dashed to their friends.
Johnny and Doc were now standing in the open to get a clear shot at the Hyatts to cover Nico and Virgil’s suicide dash to them.
The two men ran for their lives across the plaza. When they came to where Johnny and Doc were, they slid into position, taking cover behind the low concrete wall.
“Glad you made it,” Johnny said while Nico and Virgil caught their breath. “Next time you should duck so we don’t have to expose ourselves.”
“Point taken,” Virgil replied. “We need to get to the hotel and help with the defense.”
“No objection, although I’m about out of ammo,” Nico said.
Johnny and Doc confirmed they were low too.
“Now you’re going to find out why having an FFL can be helpful,” Virgil offered. “Follow me to the parking lot.”
* * *
During the lull in shooting, a second wave of the Hyatts took cover along the facade of the hotel. The remaining Hyatt gang was progressing toward the Alamo.
The Hyatt group at the front of the Minor Hotel was preparing to enter the hotel.
A man known only by the name of Brick had taken charge after Manuel was killed. The big man who lived on the fringes of society and who only took orders from Manuel gave mercy to no one.
A woman who had been observing the charge from a safe corner of the plaza, emerged. She wore tattered clothes, had her face covered with a scarf, and at first glance she had the appearance of a homeless woman. The ease with which she walked indicated otherwise.
She came up to Brick. “Have you found him yet?”
“No, but we will.”
“These will help you.” The woman handed Brick a wooden box. Brick’s powerful hands ripped off the top to expose a box of grenades.
“Where’d you get this?” Brick asked.
“I have my sources.”
“Are they good?”
“Would you expect anything else of me?” the woman said coyly.
An evil grin spread across Brick’s face. “These are worth at least five men.” He threaded four grenades to the front of his belt.
“Find him and bring him to me.”
Chapter 24
Brick gave the order to storm the hotel. Shots echoed from inside the hotel lobby as the group breached the revolving door. Two Tombstone guards were killed immediately with overwhelming fire.
Frank, Jesse, and Billy took over the firefight while the other Tombstones retreated to the bar.
Kate and Reload were with the group in the bar. Her eyes darted around the room, mentally counting heads looking for Jesse and Frank. Confusion and panic gripped her, momentarily unaware Reload was by her side, nudging her with his nose. When Kate didn’t respond to his nudging, he took her hand gently in his mouth. She let out a heavy sigh and patted the big dog on his head. “It’ll be okay. Stay by my side. Okay?”
Reload sensed the gravity of the situation and didn’t break eye contact with Kate. Not the kind of dog to be gun shy, he still needed her instruction.
Putting on a brave face, Kate hid the fact she was fighting off both the demons of her past and the demons at the door, while taking the time to comfort her dog and give him direction.
Kate stood to address the group. “Does everyone have their packs ready?”
A chorus of low mumbled affirmations followed Kate’s question.
“Good.”
More shots rang out.
Kate screamed, “To the Alamo! Now. Grab what you need!”
Kate slung a pack over her shoulder and grabbed two large white food grade buckets, already filled with necessities.
The group hastily filed out the door leading to the street, ran low to the ground keeping to the south wall of the Alamo, then darted around the corner and to the main entrance. One of the men heaved open the heavy wooden doors and ran inside. Like a true leader, Kate waited at the entrance until all the group was safely inside. She instructed Reload to follow the men.
She took one last sweep of the plaza and stopped in her tracks when she saw the man with the jagged scar standing in the shadow of a tree. He was the same man she had seen earlier. In the moment it took her to recognize him, she relived the absolute terror of that day, the life lost, and a life she would never lead. It had nearly destroyed her, and she had rehearsed in her mind what she would do if she ever saw him again. What would she say to him? What would he say to her? Would he even remember her?
Knowing Nico was fighting for her and for the lives of others awakened in her courage and determination hiding deep in her essence. It had been there the entire time, waiting to reappear, to break through the avalanche of emotions burying it.
In the moment she recognized him, she knew what she had to do.
In the moment it took her to act, he recognized her, and she saw terror flicker in his eyes, the same terror she had experienced and was about to unleash on him.
In one deft movement, Kate brought up her rifle, sighted the man, and pulled the trigger. Known to be a crack shot with any type of pistol or rifle, the man was dead before he hit the ground.
“That was for Ben,” she whispered.
Gathering a new resolve and determination, Kate shut the heavy wooden door and entered the main building of the Alamo, a revered historical symbol of sacrifice and honor of brave men fighting for what they believed in.
The cavernous space, two stories high, contained little in the form of amenities. Limestone walls more than three and a half feet thick kept the space at a constant temperature year round. An empty desk sat to the side of one wall where normally an officer in uniform was stationed. The stone floor was hard and dusty, along with the walls. Several small rooms containing artifacts abutted the main room. Light from windows near the ceiling illuminated the scaffolding still in place from recent repairs.
Kate recognized the spirituality of the Alamo, but as of right now, she needed a refuge to protect them from rifle fire.
“Barricade all the doors,” she directed. “Put riflemen at the windows. And watch for Nico, Virgil, Johnny, and the others. Be ready to let them in.”
* * *
Nico, Virgil, Johnny, and Doc had made a mad dash to the offsite parking garage not far from the Minor Hotel. They swept the multi-story garage, and Virgil noted the condition of the cars. It appeared the cars had not been searched for supplies which meant his trailer, about the size of a horse trailer but squared off, probably hadn’t been ransacked.
Good luck was still on their side.
During the preparation for the Tombstones’ yearly ride, Virgil’s wife Madge decided to ride the Harley while Virgil drove the tra
iler. None of the other wives accompanied their husbands, deciding rather to have several girls’ nights out while the guys were doing their thing. During the confusion, Virgil had lost track of his wife’s whereabouts. He recalled seeing her walking back to the room so if she was hunkering down, she’d be okay. She had a weapon and knew how to use it. He prayed to the Almighty to keep her safe.
The two men entered the stairwell and proceeded with caution. Coming to the fourth floor of the parking garage, Virgil cracked open the door and looked at the plethora of cars and trucks. There was no movement and they inched toward the trailer. Virgil retrieved a pyramid shaped key out of his pocket and inserted it into the huge lock partially hidden by a metal hood. He opened the trailer and Nico stood there looking in awe at the contents of the trailer.
Glocks were in plastic boxes. There were rifle racks on the side of the trailer filled with semi-automatic rifles including LaRues, LWRCs, and Colts. There were cardboard cases and metal boxes containing various forms of military and police type ammo.
“Everybody but Nico use AR-15s,” Virgil said. “I keep a good supply of loaded AR-15 magazines for 3-gun competitions. I’ve also got an M16/AR 15 Maglula BenchLoader that loads a 30 round magazine in seconds. I liked it so much I bought the Galil version.” Virgil motioned to the Galil Nico was holding. “Did you look closely at your gun?”
Nico inspected the Galil, looked at the left side, and noticed the three position fire control. A big grin stretched across his face. Christmas had come early again. “This is full-auto.”
“Thought you’d like it,” Virgil said.
Virgil loaded Nico’s 35 round Galil magazines and a few others, including 50 rounders he had in stock on the BenchLoader, a large rectangle of hard Delrin plastic. It was machined to accept the top of a magazine and a full magazine’s worth of ammo with a plastic slider to load the magazine.
“Y’all finish topping off your handgun mags,” Virgil instructed. “We have to get moving or nobody good will be left alive at the Minor.”
Minutes later, the group ran hard to the front entrance of the hotel. Huddling close together, they listened to the firing inside.
“Stay behind cover to avoid friendly fire,” Virgil instructed. “Begin shooting at the Hyatts and I’ll let them know who is here.”
Shots rang out, and Virgil yelled, “This is the Tombstone rescue party! Virgil says we will be partying tonight!”
The firing across the lobby intensified from Jesse’s position. All but two of the Hyatts kept firing at Jesse. They were the first to go.
Nico, Virgil, Johnny, and Doc each took a quadrant and let loose a volley of combined firepower. A few minutes later the lobby fell silent.
“Virgil and company coming in!” Virgil yelled. “Don’t shoot!” Virgil had issued orders before when he was the range safety officer, so everyone knew him.
Nico was quite surprised and impressed about how plugged in and squared away the Tombstones were in the face of danger.
While the group united, Jesse taped a bandage around Billy’s side. “Frank was killed about an hour ago,” he said. “Y’all arrived just in time otherwise we would’ve been goners.”
“We should be thanking you,” Virgil responded. “Let’s grab a few more items and move to the Alamo.”
While Virgil gathered medical supplies, Jesse found a wheeled portable bed large enough to hold Billy and two ammo cans. Nico showed up with several fire extinguishers in pillow cases. They prepared to go to the side door of the Alamo using a circuitous route.
“Nico, you take point and lay down automatic fire if we encounter resistance.” Virgil turned to Jesse and his patient. “Let’s go.”
Nico had inserted the rare 50 round magazine into his Galil and had the selector parked in the middle position.
The group ran unchallenged to the Alamo.
Coming to the side entrance of the structure, Nico leaned into a wooden door. The aged, hardened wooden door was thick enough to stop anything short of a .50 caliber round. The sound of metal scraping on the floor was followed by a partially opened door and Kate pointing a Remington 870 12 gauge at the group. Satisfied no bad guys were in the group, she opened the door wide and motioned for them to come in fast.
Nico was impressed regarding the preparations.
“What does it look like out there?” Kate asked.
Nico responded with a quick analysis which impressed Virgil. “About fifty Hyatts are dead. We have one dead, and are equipped for a short siege. I can only assume the reason the Hyatts are confused is because they have lost their leadership. As soon as they find new leaders, we will be attacked. The dilemma now is do we return to the Minor Hotel or do we fight it out here? Anybody have any ideas for what—”
Automatic fire sprayed the thick wooden doors of the front entrance and the group ducked. Fortunately nothing breached the heavy wood. The few rounds hitting the stone structure bounced away harmlessly.
“Well, I guess your question has been answered,” Kate said. The whole room broke out in nervous laughter. Kate was pleased the group could laugh at their dire situation. She hoped the morale stayed high.
* * *
Working together, the group reinforced the wooden doors with display cabinets and excess scaffolding panels. The second floor of the Alamo had been partially restored, giving the snipers secure footing near the upper windows.
The foot-thick wooden crossbeams filled the indentations in the stone all the way down the main hall. The floored section created great support for the snipers using the high windows. Some windows had heavy wooden bars that worked well in 1836, but now partially blocked the sniper’s field of view. The existing scaffolding was moved in front of the remaining second floor windows to give those snipers a steady foothold. The thick stone walls were all but impenetrable to small arms fire.
“You’ve done a great job, Kate. I really enjoyed the ‘Men’ and ‘Women’ white bucket latrine solution.”
“I like to be prepared.”
He got serious then. “Our snipers have a decent view of the courtyard and surrounding buildings, but we could control the area better with some snipers on the roof. Is there a way up there?”
Kate thought for a moment. “There are some windows under the roofline, but swinging up there would be tricky and dangerous. If someone saw you trying for the roof, even a novice shooter will hit you. It’s too bad we don’t have a large ladder or a stick of dynamite to make a hole in the roof.”
“If the Hyatts choose to occupy the Long Barracks and put snipers in the tall trees, they can make it dangerous for us to set foot outside. I worry about getting starved out.” Nico’s expression turned worrisome.
“I had everybody get water and freeze-dried meals. I inventoried them and figure we can survive about three weeks.” “It all depends on what happens in the next few days. There are just too many variables to consider.”
* * *
Two hours later, a booming voice thundered from the front of the Alamo. “This is Brick. I am the new commander of the Hyatts. Turn over all the men and women who fired at us for their due punishment. I’ll be sure they are treated fairly. In return, you will be given a chance to lay down your arms and return to the Minor Hotel without molestation. We want twenty-five percent of all supplies you have or collect in the future. For this, you shall be safe from us. You have one hour to reply.”
The group looked to Virgil for guidance. Being the oldest of the Tombstones, command naturally fell to him. “Gather around, it’s time for a vote. Anybody here want to give up your guns and twenty-five percent of everything you ever get in exchange for a flimsy promise they won’t hurt you, say aye.” There was total silence. “Everybody who wants to kick their sorry asses to Hell where they belong, say aye.”
This time the roof vibrated from all the “ayes”.
Nico was already using time to his advantage. He borrowed black clothing from several men and taped down all his loose equipment to his body, including
the Galil, with electrical tape.
The setting sun cast long shadows outside, and the Hyatt soldiers lit torches for light.
Nico checked the view from several second story windows, scanning the area for torches the Hyatts were holding. He selected the window exhibiting the best point of egress and the least amount of nearby Hyatt torches.
With catlike grace, Nico silently slid out of the window and pulled himself to the roof.
He was painfully pulling off some of his gear when the top of a head appeared just above the roofline.
“Don’t shoot. It’s Jesse. I need a hand,” he whispered.
Nico heaved Jesse to the roof and stood back.
“How do you get this off?” Jesse asked, referring to the electrical tape.
“Very carefully. Fast is the best way.”
Grimacing, Jesse ripped off the electrical tape from his arm, taking with it a good amount of arm hair.
Nico laughed silently. “What kind of rifle do you have?” he asked. He already knew, but he wanted to be sure Jesse knew what he was doing.
“Colt H-BAR, slightly used, semi-automatic. I wished it was full-auto, but it’s okay since it has a heavy barrel and bipod.” Jesse patted a pack full of loaded 30 round AR-15 magazines.
“You’ve come prepared,” Nico noted. “Here’s the plan. I’ll take the section with the most torches, because it has the most people at the time we moved from dusk to darkness. You take the side door because I think they will make an attack there. Always keep your eyes and ears open, because they may send someone to the roof from any direction. Remember to aim two feet to the right of the torch since most of them will be right handed.”
“I don’t quite follow.”
“They’ll have to hold a torch in their left hand away from their body.” Nico held a bottle of water in his left hand and a gun in his right as an example so Jesse could absorb what Nico was saying.
“Got it,” Jesse said. “I thought Virgil was the master when it came to gunfights. It might be Virgil could learn a thing or two from you. Thanks.” Jesse moved into his position, using the lip of the roof as cover.
