by Bobby Akart
“You will keep me informed of your activities, with details of your location and encounters, is that understood?” demanded Lee.
“Yes, sir.”
“Holloway, you must not engage the enemy. You are on a scouting mission only, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Scouting only.”
Holloway shielded his face from the flickering light exuded by the candles and smiled.
“Tomorrow, assemble your team and the weapons you’ll need for the mission. I want to meet with them before your departure. You will travel under cover of darkness tomorrow evening.”
Time to play!
Chapter 15
December 31
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
Duncan retrieved Palmer’s first rifle from the gun case, a Mossberg 702 semiautomatic Plinkster model chambered in .22 caliber. Their dad had purchased it for her when she turned ten years old. At first, Palmer had loved the balanced feel and the easy-to-reload aspect of the ten-round magazine. Then after incessant teasing from Riley about the pink-and-black camo pattern, she wanted something new. Duncan worked with her until she was ready to graduate up to a Remington 700 bolt-action hunting rifle.
He pulled one of the several hunting rifles to be used by Palmer today, and then he reached for the Daniel Defense DD5V1. The powerful AR-10-style weapon was a nice addition to the Armstrong arsenal. He wanted to send a few rounds down the range to try it out, although very little would dissuade him from using the Barrett for long-range shooting which had served him well in North Korea and Arizona.
Palmer and Sook were waiting at the front door. Palmer had backpacks filled with ammo, magazines, and a weapons tool kit in case maintenance was required. She also had her new H&K VP9 that was purchased for her by her mother. Palmer needed some practice time with her new handgun as well.
“Are we ready?” asked Duncan as he slung the Mossberg over his shoulder and cradled the heavier AR-10.
“Wait,” interrupted Lucy from the kitchen. “There’s one more thing.”
Duncan turned, and his mother approached them carrying a paddle holster, which contained her H&K handgun that matched Palmer’s.
Lucy walked up to Sook and presented her with the weapon. “Honey, you are my daughter too. I have worn this weapon on my hip with pride and comfort knowing it will protect our family. I want you to have it because you and Palmer are practically sisters. Sisters should watch over and protect one another.”
Sook took the weapon and held it in both her hands as if someone had just handed her a newborn baby.
“Momma, that’s so sweet,” said Palmer as she quickly gave her mother a hug.
“Thank you, Miss Lucy,” said Sook with a tear in her eye. “I will protect my sister, and all of my new family, with my life. It is my promise to you.”
The women hugged again, and Duncan stood back as he took in the emotional moment. It was a rite of passage in all their lives. Sook had become a member of the family for many reasons, but Lucy’s relinquishing of her beloved sidearm showed confidence that the young woman could now be counted on to protect them as well.
After excusing himself to retrieve a box of fifty rounds for the nine-millimeter weapons, and the new Omega suppressor, Duncan led his students by horseback down to the ravine on the far east end of the ranch.
This natural formation acted as a barrier to anyone attempting to approach them from the east. When the heavy rains came in the spring, or with thawing snow, the ravine’s dry creek beds would be full of muddy water flowing down into Wildcat Creek toward Lake J. B. Thomas. The high walls of the ravine kept the sounds of gunfire within it, decreasing the likelihood of any residents around the lake hearing them.
It was a cool morning on New Year’s Eve. Sunny, with calm winds, the forty-two-degree temperatures were invigorating. They tied their horses to a small lean-to shed, which served to protect them from the sun during the summer. The building covered a picnic table on which Duncan spread out the weapons and organized them from most to least powerful.
Sook had very little knowledge of weapons, and although it wasn’t likely she’d be called upon to use the Barrett or the Daniel Defense rifles, Duncan felt she needed an overall understanding of what the various weapons were intended to do.
“Sook, the first thing you should know is that each of these guns is like a tool,” Duncan began as he used his fingers to point as he spoke. “For example, this table is built using nails. A nail is driven in with a hammer. That is what a hammer is used for. If I wanted to break the table, I would use a very heavy hammer called a sledgehammer. It has a long handle and a much bigger head.”
“Yes, I understand,” said Sook. She touched the buttstock of the Barrett. “Sledgehammer. I have seen the sledgehammer work.”
He handed her the Mossberg .22-caliber rifle. “Feel the weight.”
“Yes. Light weight.”
Duncan took the Mossberg away and handed her the Remington. “Try this.”
“Yes, the same.” She nodded and returned the rifle to Duncan.
Then Duncan handed her a .22-caliber bullet and the .308 round used in the Remington. “The .22 is a hammer. The .308 is a sledgehammer bullet.”
“Both rifles weigh the same,” interrupted Sook as she held the two bullets side by side. The .308-caliber bullet dwarfed the .22 in both length and girth.
Duncan took the bullets back and continued. “That’s right, Sook. Every firearm and its ammunition has a different purpose just like a tool has its own unique function. Today, I want to teach you how to handle a gun safely, treating it with respect, so when the time comes, you can use it as a tool to defend yourself and all of us. Okay?”
“Yes, sir, General Duncan,” said Sook with a laugh as she stood at attention. Palmer joined in and stood next to Sook before giving her oldest brother a snappy salute.
Duncan took the playful ribbing and then got down to business. Palmer retrieved Oakley ballistic protection sunglasses from the backpack. Duncan taught Sook everything from how to load ammo in the magazines to proper stance and technique.
After an hour of practice, Sook was routinely hitting the wooden targets built by Duncan and Dallas years ago. He pulled her farther away as she began to nail the center of the painted rings on the plywood board. He was impressed.
“Sook, you do have a good eye,” he said as she finished her one-hundredth round from fifty yards. For training purposes, especially with the .22 rifle, more than fifty yards was unnecessary. He planned on bringing her out for a second time to determine if she’d retained what he’d taught her and to see if today’s excellent shooting was merely beginner’s luck.
“Okay, my turn,” announced Palmer as she checked her magazine and then jammed it into her sidearm.
“All right, Palmer, but let me mention a few things to Sook as you go because this is all a learning experience,” said Duncan. “After you empty a mag, I want you to add your new silencer. You’ll find a noticeable weight and balance difference that will require some adjustments.”
Palmer holstered her weapon and marched downrange to set up new targets. While she did, Duncan gave Sook an overview.
He picked up Sook’s new H&K and released the magazine into his hand. He checked the chamber to insure it was empty and handed the weapon to Sook, handle first.
“Very light. I like this,” she said.
Duncan began. “There are many things to learn about handling a sidearm. We’ll talk about proper grip and sight alignment, but the key to successful performance is pulling the trigger. That sounds like a simple concept, but the part you control is the trigger pull. You must not jerk or flinch when you squeeze it. The key is to pull it slowly so the barrel remains pointed exactly at your target. That takes a lot of practice.”
“Palmer has lots of practice?” asked Sook.
“Sook, she is the best in the family, besides me, of course. Riley and Cooper always wanted to shoot their rifles. Palmer enjoyed l
earning how to draw her pistol from her holster, shoot accurately, and quickly remove an empty magazine to replace it with a full one.”
Palmer returned back to their side with a strut of confidence. “Watch this, Sook.”
She stood perfectly still, and suddenly, with her knees locked, and feet at hip width, she quickly drew her sidearm out of the paddle holster. Her hands were steady and she began firing.
Palmer threw three rounds down the range, nailing the first target in the center before repeating the action on two other targets close by. Despite having a round remaining in the magazine, she dropped it to the ground and swiftly pulled a backup and slapped it into the bottom of the nine-millimeter weapon’s grip. She repeated the process, once again nailing the three targets with three bullets each.
When she finished, she paused momentarily to admire her work, flipped the safety back on, and slid the sidearm back into its holster.
Before she could turn around, Duncan, who was grinning, said, “Show-off.”
Palmer laughed. “You wanna give it a try? You don’t have to do it as fast as me, so you don’t embarrass yourself in front of your girlfriend.”
“Very funny, Palmer,” said Duncan as he fist-bumped with his sister. “That’s very impressive, obviously. But after years of practicing that shooting routine, you should have it down perfect. Here’s something you and I, together with Sook, are going to work on. First, you’re not gonna let that spent magazine hit the ground to pick up later. We can’t run down to the gun store and buy more. If we lose our magazines in a gunfight, our guns will become worthless.”
“What should I do?” asked Palmer.
“We’ll practice dropping those magazines and sticking them in your pants or a vest. That’s the least of my concerns, however.”
“What else?” asked Palmer.
“Well, there’s a second thing I wanna mention,” replied Duncan. “Until now, the family has trained for hunting purposes or to show off their skills, like you just did. It’s time we learn what it’s like to be in a real firefight—fire while moving, seeking cover, and reloading on the fly. Daddy and I know, but y’all have to realize that targets don’t stand still, and they shoot back with the intent to kill you.”
Chapter 16
December 31
Ector County Detention Center
Odessa, Texas
“Little John,” began Riley as he steered the four-door pickup through the south gate of the Armstrong Ranch. He looked into the rearview mirror to the young man they’d rescued the day after Christmas. With the help of Antonio, who sat next to him in the backseat, the young man had overcome the trauma of losing his mother to the banditos, as he called them. The time also allowed his body to heal from the beating and lack of nutrition. “We’re hopin’ to reunite you with your daddy. Will you buckle up your seat belt and promise to do everything we tell you?”
“Yes, Mr. Riley,” he replied. “My daddy is a good person. Mommy said he made a stupid mistake and had to be punished.”
Major, who rode up front with Riley, turned around and spoke to the young man. “That’s true, Little John, daddies make mistakes sometimes. I hope your daddy can be released to take care of you. I’m gonna do my best, okay?”
“Yessir,” the boy replied halfheartedly. His life had been full of disappointment, and it was understandable that he’d lack hope.
Major waved to the hands as they shut the gates behind them. He unconsciously gripped the barrel of his rifle, which sat between his legs and the passenger door. He regretted not asking the president for a formal letter of pardon for Mr. Flores. He wasn’t sure of the offense for which he was serving time, but since he was being held in the Ector County system, it was most likely minor in comparison to those inmates who would’ve been shipped off to a state prison facility.
In Texas, minor offenses most likely received a sentence of eleven months and twenty-nine days, which placed them within the charge of the county where they were convicted.
Major hadn’t heard any news of what was happening in Odessa since the collapse. He knew the sheriff of Ector County well. Jimmy Griffin was the son of a Texas Ranger. Sheriff Griffin, when he was a deputy, had come under investigation by Company E in El Paso. Because Griffin’s father was a Ranger, he and all of Company E had to recuse themselves from any involvement or contact with the investigators on the case. Company C in Lubbock, and Major personally, oversaw the investigation to avoid the appearance of impropriety.
Many years ago, then Deputy Griffin had initiated a traffic stop on Highway 385 south of Odessa in a rural part of the county. He had set up a routine speed trap due to complaints by residents in the Pleasant Farms community. As it turned out, the primary culprit was the teenage son of the county treasurer. The boy had been given a new Dodge Challenger boasting nearly seven hundred horsepower, or roughly double what a seventeen-year-old teenage boy should be pushing.
Deputy Griffin, after an eleven-mile chase, stopped the young man and arrested him on multiple charges, including speeding, reckless endangerment, and resisting arrest. Because of the boy’s age and his relationship to the country treasurer, Griffin elected to discard the bag of marijuana found in clear sight on the front seat of the car.
He’d done the boy a big favor, only to be repaid later when the father and son filed a complaint against Griffin for excessive force in an attempt to negotiate the vehicle-related charges away. The charges came at a time when America was hypersensitive to law enforcement’s handling of criminals. As a result, the Texas Rangers were asked to look into the case.
Major, who found that the kid had been roughed up a little because he was high and mouthy, decided on his own to protect Deputy Griffin by claiming there was insufficient evidence to warrant any charges against the deputy. He’d most likely saved Griffin’s career, and as a result, he’d ascended to the position of sheriff of Ector County.
Odessa was a city with a population of one hundred twenty thousand, although it had grown together with nearby Midland to combine to a metropolis of over a quarter-million people. Major gave Riley directions that took the travelers on a loop that encircled the city. They could avoid the populated areas and enter the city from the south.
This was Riley and Antonio’s first opportunity to see the impact the collapsed power grid in America had on Texans. Similar to Austin, there were indications of widespread unemployment and despair. As they slowed to approach the Ector County Detention Center, the faces of the downtrodden came into focus.
Blank expressions and hollow eyes were the norm. Only a few playing children and the occasional dog wagging its tail were the exceptions.
The detention center was heavily guarded by police wearing tactical gear and carrying automatic weapons. Major was somewhat puzzled by this, as he didn’t see any immediate threat to the complex from outsiders.
He provided the guards at the Grant Avenue gate his credentials and instructed them to contact Sheriff Griffin to announce his arrival. He said he’d be glad to explain the purpose of his visit if necessary.
The guard was gone for a few minutes and then returned Major’s identification. “You can pass, sir. Do you know where the sheriff’s office is located?”
“I do, thank you.”
He pointed Riley toward the parking lot of the first building, a single-story structure that contained the administrative offices of the sheriff. The larger two-story buildings to the rear contained the jail cells.
The group entered the facility, and Major instructed them to wait in an adjacent empty waiting area. After speaking briefly with a uniformed deputy behind a glass reception window, he waved to Little John to join him. Riley attempted to come along, but Major told him to wait.
“Stay with Antonio, son,” said Major. “I imagine this is a conversation that the sheriff would prefer happen between the two of us.”
Twenty minutes later, after a stern reminder of favors granted and reciprocal favors returned, Major walked out of the back offices
with a smile, Little John, and a deputy escort.
Riley was the first to join them. “How did it go, Daddy?”
“Very well, son. This young man is going to take us to where Little John’s father is working today. The sheriff agrees that Mr. Flores has served his time well and is worthy of getting released due to his good behavior.”
Riley reached down and picked up Little John, who was smiling so big his eyes closed shut.
“Little John, whadya think of that news?” asked Riley.
“It sounds like Christmas,” he replied.
Major shook his head in sadness. Children shouldn’t have to experience the devastation Little John had been through, much less at Christmastime. He was glad they’d saved the boy and given him a ray of hope in a horrific world.
Chapter 17
December 31
Music City Mall
Refugee Center, Unit One
Odessa, Texas
After the four loaded up in their truck, they were escorted by two Ector County sheriff’s cars to the nearby Music City Mall. The million-square-foot regional shopping mall had been leased by the military department to become the first refugee center to handle local Texans together with those new refugees brought into Texas as a result of the agreement with Washington.
After clearing a security checkpoint, they were led to a parking area, which consisted primarily of sheriff’s department vehicles and food trucks bearing names like Sysco, Kraft, and Mission. At the main mall entrance, more guards stood behind concrete barriers to prevent any type of vehicular assault on the entrance.
At the two side entrances, chain-link fencing was placed to create a corridor where people were funneled to be processed for entry. Families stood in line, holding blankets, suitcases, and personal effects. They’d left their homes hoping they’d be fed and kept alive.
The irony was not lost on Major. In a nation that thrived on shopping at the malls to fill their homes with material goods, when the collapse arrived, they turned to those same malls to keep them alive.
