Stolen Liberty: Behind the Curtain

by Thomas A. Watson

  “I’ll fucking end you!” Robbie growled, coming around the front of the truck and charged forward taking a swing with his good hand at Randy. The punch missed when Randy ducked and Robbie ended up on his ass, scrabbling back to his feet. “You promised to never tell anyone!”

  Rearing his leg back, Robbie tried to kick at Randy’s legs, but he dodged away, now on the passenger side of the truck almost out of the bright lights. Charlie and Cody moved to the front of the truck and started laughing before Robbie turned to take out his frustration on Charlie with a wild swing that Charlie dodged.

  “What the hell is wrong with you! Stand against the damn truck with your hands up!” a voice called out from their front.

  “I’ve been riding with you for six fucking hours, you moron! I’m kicking your fat ass!” Charlie balled up his fist and drove it into Robbie’s face. Not even trying to dodge or block the punch, Robbie fell to the ground and spit out blood.

  “Six hours? You think that’s bad? I spent twelve hours with your sister last month. She cried and begged for me to keep going!” Robbie smiled. “She knows I like to stick it in the crazy.”

  “Get your goddamn hands up and back against the truck!” another voice yelled and tried to take control of the situation.

  “I don’t have to remind you of that whorehouse in Panama where you two tried to tag team that girl who turned out to have a little something extra for ya!” Robbie called out, getting to his feet but wasn’t looking at Charlie or Randy. He was counting figures behind the lights.

  “Motherfucker! You want some? Then get some!” Randy shouted, with Charlie nudging Cody back along the passenger side of the truck. Turning to Charlie, Robbie charged, making Charlie back up and Randy darted past to the driver’s side. The officers stood there and watched while three lunatics with guns pointed at them tried to get into a fistfight. Standing on the driver’s side and acting like he was watching Robbie, Randy saw the officers’ pistols dip and gave a small nod to Robbie.

  Turning to face Charlie like he was readying for another charge, Robbie nodded at Charlie and all three drew their pistols. Bringing his pistol up, Robbie lined up the first shadowy silhouette behind the bright lights in the center of the group and stroked the trigger twice before acquiring the second target. In his mind, Robbie saw the uniformed men as paper targets with interconnected circles noting different scoring. Center mass, or the X ring, gave you a perfect ten in the firing line, but Robbie knew they all wore body armor, so he tried for the next ring worth ten points, the circle above the shoulders, as he continued to move out of the lights.

  Charlie, working from the right and Randy from the left, both centered on the shadowy silhouettes and started servicing targets from the outside and worked their way in, with their last shots converging on an officer as he squeezed the trigger of his pistol and hit the windshield of the truck after taking a double-tap to the chest. The officer stumbled back squeezing the trigger again, this time hitting the asphalt as his arms fell. Adjusting his aim when the officer started to fall backwards, Randy brushed the trigger to send one into the officer’s head before he hit the pavement.

  Robbie’s two targets hit the ground like sacks of meat. The .45 slugs punched through their throats and faces and foreheads. The blinding glare from the police lights gave the boys the impression that they had been shooting at ghosts.

  Spinning around, Cody fired at the two shadows behind the truck and put them down.

  “Clear!” Randy called out from the front of the truck.

  A pop from the rear of the truck followed by a “clear!” told Robbie that Cody had to finish one off.

  “Robbie, what do you have up there?” Cody called out.

  “I see three State Police with standard gear. Sidearm for each is a Sig 227. I’m taking the ammo, we don’t need the pistols. We have another bozo in full tactical gear with a face missing. I’ll check his pockets and see what’s up with him,” Robbie shouted back.

  “Check the cars. We are cleaning up here,” Randy called out while he changed magazines.

  Feeling squeamish but not showing it, Cody checked the men he’d shot and then went to the patrol car. He popped the trunk and expected to find a stash of weapons or other goodies. What he found made his yell seem very stressed to the rest of the team. “Check the trunks of those cars and tell me what you think!”

  Holstering his pistol, Charlie pulled the keys from one of the cars and shut the lights off, then went back to the trunk. Piled to the top of the space under the deck lid were personal items, wallets, loose money, rings, necklaces, loose credit cards, and guns. In the second trunk, they found a similar stack.

  “Okay. Let’s do a clean sweep of this scene. Shadow, get personal intelligence and security. I’ve got radios and documents. Blaster, go with weapons. Babyface, on me. I’m going to show you the ropes, and you are going to help me move the bodies off the road,” Charlie called out, then turned to Cody. “Babyface, you have got to shoot and move. You’re lucky those fuckers couldn’t shoot straight. Are we clear? Shoot and move or do like Shadow, shoot while you’re moving. We’ve all done it over the years, so don’t let that training go.”

  Following Charlie as he fought the adrenaline dump, “Yeah, I know better,” Cody admitted.

  Kneeling in the road, Randy pulled the wallets from the six men and matched their faces to their life stories in the billfolds. The strange one with the tactical uniform was not from Indiana. He had a driver’s license issued in Virginia. Randy kept the wallet and moved to check on the remaining crew. They all had Indiana licenses and addresses. With little indifference, Randy overlooked the family photos and shoved that thought to the dark corner of his mind where he kept all the bad shit he had seen and done.

  “No fucking grenades!” Robbie spat as he fished the extra magazines from the pistols and unloaded the rounds into a pouch he’d taken off the guy from Virginia. Robbie emptied the .40 caliber rounds from the magazine and considered tossing them aside. Instead, he placed the rounds in a grocery bag and tossed them to the shoulder of the road. “Maybe somebody good will need them. We don’t.”

  Personally happy the group didn’t have grenades, Charlie took all the radios and turned them off, except for one which he cranked the volume all the way up to listen to chatter or check-ins on the net. Jumping in the other cars, Charlie turned the bright lights off and let them work by flashlight to let their natural night vision return over time.

  Shaking his head, Randy took a look around the scene and returned with a troubled expression.

  “What did you find?” Babyface asked.

  “We made the right call. Those cars back there are from earlier victims. The ones caught with guns were handcuffed and marched into the trees over there,” Randy grumbled and pointed to a small line of trees along the side of the road. “Single gunshot to the head for each. And this piece of shit did it.” He kicked the body of the man in the all black uniform and tactical gear. “I found his fired casings over there by the bodies.”

  “So, the state troopers were complicit in this?” Charlie asked.

  “Does the evidence in the trunks look like they’re properly inventoried and ready for collection? Hell, yes, they were complicit. I want to know why they were here.” Randy pointed down at the road they were standing on. “In this exact spot, between damn all and nowhere. This road serves no strategic value whatsoever, yet we have a group here with badges, killing for profit. The only people that would use this road would be people trying to get to safety.”

  “That’s a mystery to me,” Charlie admitted, walking over with Cody. “We checked the cell phones for messages. I got one to unlock with a fingerprint, but he didn’t have any messages for the last two hours, and everything before that was personal messages to someone at home. I won’t go into it, but they may not have known what they were here for at first.”

  “Tell that to the bodies lined up over there. They took the handcuffs off and reused them after they’d shot them
in the head. The rings around their wrists indicate that they twitched and writhed in the dirt before they stopped moving,” Randy’s angry voice went quiet.

  “Okay, then. We have our rules of engagement now. Blaster, find anything good?” Charlie asked.

  “They have an M4 in the rack of that car.” Robbie pointed to the car to their front and left. “The rack didn’t survive me, but we have another rifle.”

  “I’ll take the lower and leave the upper behind. That’s just more weight to carry,” Randy remarked.

  “Fine with me. As well as some .45 ACP, I found boxes of ammunition for our ARs, so yay, more ammo to carry,” Robbie smiled. “You can never have too much ammo.”

  “But what if you can’t carry it all?” Cody asked.

  “Then you shoot until you can carry it. We are about fifty miles from Oak Lawn, and we have to cross some densely-populated areas. We’ll have to ditch the truck and go on foot from here,” Robbie smiled. “I’m sure they will have more roadblocks set up, unless anyone wants to get a little closer with the truck.”

  Almost expecting Blackhawks to swoop down, Randy looked around. “Next time, they may just shoot. We’ll start the hump, we need to move. Someone will come to relieve them and find this.”

  “Shit, just load them up in the backseat and drive away. We have four people and four vehicles,” Robbie suggested.

  “Where do we dump it all? Someone will find it eventually,” Charlie asked.

  Checking his pistol was secured in his holster, Robbie went to the truck and pulled out his laptop. He squirmed and put in the password to open the file. “Okay, three miles down the road is an area that looks swampy as hell. We can dump them there for now, change into our cammies, and head out. We still have darkness on our side, but we are going to lose that in a few hours.”

  “How long do you think it will take to get there? This is your town, Robbie,” Charlie asked.

  “Twelve to fifteen hours, if we can keep up the pace,” Robbie shrugged.

  Glancing over at Randy and seeing him nod, Charlie gave a long sigh, “Shit, load up with every round we can carry for the rifles. We can resupply at the house, just make sure we have enough to get in. Load up the bodies and let’s take a drive down the road to take out the trash.”

  Working together, they stacked the bodies across the backseats after stripping them of their body armor.

  “Why are we bothering? You all have a set of armor already,” Cody pointed out.

  “We do, but you just have a chest rig with plates, and the kids and Jerome don’t, as well as Kristi. These are for them,” Charlie reminded the youngest member of the team.

  “So we have to carry extra sets of armor too?” Cody asked.

  “Think of the good side. We won’t be cold,” Randy clapped Cody on the back and smiled. “Oh, this is going to be a marvelous suck indeed.”

  They loaded up and got the cars turned around before speeding three miles to the wooded area that looked more impressive on the map than in real life.

  “Man, this sucks! How are we going to hide all these dead bodies in six inches of water?” Robbie complained as he pulled the stick out of the water of the drained swamp.

  “We don’t need all that extra fuel now, do we?” Randy suggested.

  “Hang on, before we fire it up, let me get a few guns from the trunk. I saw a nice shotgun back there that I want to carry too.” Robbie fished around in the trunk until he had the Mossberg 930 free. He took the sling from another rifle and attached the shotgun to his vest, so it hung with the rifle.

  “Is that going to clank when you run, Blaster?” Randy asked.

  Glancing down, Robbie hefted the shotgun and bounced up and down. The rifle stayed attached to his chest by its own sling and didn’t impede his motion.

  “Fine, just don’t go with the shotty unless you have to. We need to move fast and quiet, and that damn thing will rock the neighborhoods,” Randy chuckled and smiled when Robbie pulled out boxes of shells for the shotgun and selected the buckshot loads, leaving the smaller birdshot behind.

  Tightening his gloves, Charlie looked at the group. “Remember, we are only using the radios for emergencies. Everyone have your hunter’s ears in?” Cody, Randy, and Robbie nodded back. Robbie added a “middle finger” with his claw. “Keep hydrated and watch your intervals,” Charlie added with a nod and stepped off. Walking past Charlie, Randy took the lead with the map.

  Tucking the map into his cargo pocket, Randy sipped from his Camelback tube and sighed as he thought to himself, “Let the suckage begin.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Outside of Gary, Indiana

  The five to six miles per hour pace along the double train tracks, and the constant attention to the shifting rocks along the line grated on Charlie’s nerves. They made good time by avoiding the streets and jogging along the rail line Robbie had mapped out. Twenty yards ahead, Randy stopped occasionally at major intersections, but the suburban areas in Indiana stayed quiet in the near dawn hours, like the world had taken a deep breath and held it for the next trauma. Like an evil dream evolving, as the world brightened, gunfire started barking around them every ten to fifteen minutes.

  Staying in his customary point position, Randy led them into the early morning and covered twenty miles in a sweaty, mad dash into the city, but the added light and the potential for trains to run on the start of a busy week, made the team find a place to hole up and survey their options.

  In a copse of trees near Burns Harbor, the four took a break and hid out for a few hours. After a breather, Randy took off to reconnoiter the immediate area. Charlie dug into the bag of documents taken from the police cars, and Robbie checked in with Jerome. Next to Robbie, Cody stayed alert and on guard under a scraggly bush, listening to the sounds of sirens and sporadic gunfire in the distance.

  Taking a deep breath, Robbie inserted the tiny SIM card and powered up the phone. He didn’t have a charger with him, but the simple flip phone had enough juice for what he needed.

  Jerome picked up on the second ring. “You had better be close. I’m getting tired of sitting up all night, waiting for you to call.”

  “I knew you missed me, loverboy. What’s the situation at home?” Robbie asked.

  “Mamma Bear made it home at dawn. She pulled a Runaway Bride, laced up her shoes, and hoofed it,” Jerome yawned.

  Letting out a gasp, Robbie almost dropped the phone in excitement. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s exhausted and sleeping. The kids were chomping at the bit to ‘go camping’ because the crap is getting closer out here. I mean, like this neighborhood.”

  “Did your kids show?” Robbie asked.

  “I never did hear back from Charlene. I don’t even know where she is staying now. I’m worried. I called her mom and she hasn’t heard from Charlene since yesterday, and has no idea where she could be,” Jerome’s voice broke over the phone.

  “I’m sorry, buddy. I do have good news, though. Expect to see us later tonight.” Robbie cleared his throat and glanced around the hasty hide. “We can’t move during the day. It’s too eventful and we are going to be exposed. We already had to use the smoke poles. Hunker down and hold it together a little longer.”

  “Will do. Momma Bear broke out her and the kids’ toys from the toy box. I still have the boom stick. Hey, where is my ride?”

  Cringing, Robbie let the silence stretch for a few seconds before speaking. “I’m sorry, but I owe you a truck.” Waiting for Jerome to pop off, Robbie remembered the flames engulfing the patrol cars and Jerome’s truck. The team had no better way to erase the evidence, except to dump the fuel cans inside the vehicles and light a match.

  When Jerome spoke, it was in a regretful but understanding tone, “Man, I knew I’d never see it again. I’m just glad you are coming.”

  “Well, get your walking shoes laced up. Looks like we are all humping out and it’s going to be interesting.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell the kids when they ge
t up. Kristi is going to be down until this afternoon. She was wiped out, both physically and emotionally. It got bad.”

  “Hold the fort,” Robbie replied, then hung up and took Clark’s phone apart and tucked it away in his pack.

  “She’s home?” Charlie asked from his piles of papers and personal effects they’d hauled from the roadblock.

  “Yeah. Jerome says she walked home.”

  Closing his eyes, Charlie sighed, “The SUV is still at work?”

  “Yeah. Admit it, Book. The roads are too dangerous. It’s the leather personnel carrier for us.” They used to joke that the best way to move in the mountains of Afghanistan was with the LPC’s. Keeping low, Robbie adjusted his position to get a better look at their perimeter.

  “That’s going to be a slow grind,” Charlie muttered. “Jerome’s kids make it?” Charlie asked, and Robbie shook his head.

  Without warning, Randy dropped down next to Charlie and scanned the piles of documents and identification cards. “What do we know?” Randy asked quietly.

  After jumping a foot off the ground, Charlie gave him a quick rundown. “Kristi’s home and sleeping. She’s fine, but she had to abandon her ride at the hospital. The roadblock we hit last night was a roving team guarding a specific boundary on the map. They had orders to stop people from leaving population centers. I don’t have any specifics on why they had those orders. The three cars would set up along one road for a few hours before moving south to the next road. My analysis is they don’t have the manpower just yet to cover every small dirt road and pig path, but they are expecting reinforcements within a few days.”

  “Who the hell gave them the orders to execute folks?” Randy asked.