The Sons of Liberty

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The Sons of Liberty Page 23

by James Tow

sawn-off shotgun was lying in the middle of the rack of fellow shotguns. I started to reach for it, but Gabriel was faster.

  “Dibs,” he said.

  “I saw it first, damn it,” I said.

  Gabriel stood on a foot stool that sat by his feet. “I want you five outside with Paul and me,” he said pointing at Chris and the four boys who walked in with him. “I want the rest to stay inside and guard those who need it. Those who will stay inside will listen to Alyse here.” Alyse waved her hand in the air, and the crowd loudly disapproved.

  “Don’t bullshit!” I yelled stepping forward, and the locker room noise immediately died. “You do what she says or it’s my gun in your mouth! You shoot when she tells you to shoot. You run if she tells you to run. If she tells you to take a shit, you pull your pants down and pop a squat right where you’re standing.” I stepped back when I was done and looked down to Alyse. She was trying to hide a smile of gratitude.

  Gabriel patted my shoulder and continued, “Now that we have that settled, go and get set up.”

  Alyse walked up to me, stood on her toes, and gave me a slow, wet kiss just behind my jaw.

  “For luck,” she whispered. Blushing, she immediately turned and yelled with authority, “Follow me!” and marched out of the cage with her M60.

  “Those are the biggest goose bumps I have ever seen,” Gabriel chuckled. I broke from my momentary freeze and said, “Shut up,”

  Bergstrom walked out of the cage with a rifle. “I’m going to help hold the fort,” he said and walked off.

  “Don’t have a heart attack on me,” Gabriel said and Bergstrom answered with a wave.

  While Gabriel was grabbing extra ammo I walked over to the bullet proof vests. I found one I liked—it was short, bulky, and black—but I liked the tactical vest I was wearing more. I noticed Gabriel was only wearing his grey tank top, so I tossed the vest onto the shelf, next to him. He looked at the vest, then at me.

  “Put it on,” I told him. “It’ll probably save your life. Plus it matches your black cargo pants.” He gave me an incredulous look then massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger and let out a sigh.

  I started filling the pockets of my vest with ammo when I heard Gabriel grunt and gasping for air. I turned to see he was struggling with putting the vest over his head. I started to walk over to him to help, but he finally slipped it on and fitted it to his liking.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t…” I started to say.

  “Don’t start with me, damn it,” he said—cutting me off. “I will go out there, and I will end their fucking lives. And you…are not going to stop me,” he finished by giving me a glare that made me step back.

  “I was just going to suggest…”

  “Well don’t,” he said—cutting me off again.

  I was just going to suggest he wear something else…what’s his problem?

  “We have to get moving,” Chris said and lead his followers outside. I followed Chris and his men outside, and Gabriel soon followed. He was holding four small radios and handed three of them among us—one to me, one to Chris, and one to a tall black kid.

  “I want two on the roof of the weight room, two hidden in the parking lot—using the cars for cover, obviously—and two at Bellview Ballpark. And I want each group to have one radio,” Gabriel said while pointing in each direction as he mentioned them.

  “Where will you be?” Chris asked him.

  “I’ll be right in front of Long Leaf—they’ll be looking the devil in the eye,” he replied while slipping his blade into his belt. I would object, but I knew it was no use.

  Instead I asked a question I’ve been meaning to ask, “So, what’re you names?”

  Each member of Chris’ ‘Omega Unit’ looked at each other and took turns, “I’m Ebben Mignott,”

  the tall black boy said in a low raspy voice. Then the goofy guy standing next to me raised his hand and said, “Spenser Bettis.” The fat white boy standing next to Chris announced, “Eric Jumper,” and pinched his shirt—and shook it as if he was shaking something off. The sign of a douchebag, I thought. And the Samoan guy—wearing an AT-4 rocket launcher—standing next to Gabriel said, “Toni Davis.”

  “Alright guys,” Gabriel started to say, but Toni cut him off, “And girl.” Both, Gabriel and I, stared at her and Chris said, “She’s a fighter. Don’t worry about her.”

  “Oh I’m not,” Gabriel said, “I just can’t believe I missed that.”

  “Me neither,” I agreed. I examined her closer to see the feminine figure and the long curly hair sticking out from the ball cap she wore.

  “Well alright,” Gabriel started and begun to examine each of our weapons of choice. “Ebben and Toni, you two have heavy guns with range so I want you on the roof. Eric and Chris, you guys are stationed in the parking lot. That leaves Spenser and Paul to Bellview Ballpark.”

  Bellview was a small sports complex adjacent to Long Leaf. Our best spot is to camp inside the dugout of the tee-ball field which pointed directly at the elementary school and the open field. As I was planning our positioning in my head when I realized Spenser was holding his hand out to me. I shook his hand and he said, “I’m Spenser.”

  “I gathered that,” I chuckled.

  “Oh, right—when we announced our names and stuff,” he said in a shaky voice. This guy is green; at least he has a firm handshake. There are a lot of firm handshakes here.

  “What?” Spenser asked puzzled.

  “Oh, nothing,” I really should stop thinking out loud.

  We all stood in a circle and stared at the center. Gabriel stepped forward.

  “You can’t be scared—it’s their biggest weapon.” The crowd shifted around and each one stood a little taller. Gabriel continued, “Be deadly, violent, and ruthless—it’s the only way to survive. But most of all, be careful and watch out for each other. We are brothers on the battlefield. And I don’t know about you, but for those who threaten my brothers—I’ll stick my gun in their face and say bang.” Gabriel slowly started raising his voice the further he went with his monologue. “You were taught your whole lives to fight for what you wanted most, and this is no different…So fucking fight for what you stand for! You know what they’ve done, and you know what they will do! Be the stopping power this world needs…stand up to them and say NO MORE!”

  By now, we were a crazy mob who wanted one thing—death of their Army. Gabriel finished, “Guys…it’s killing time.” The tiny mob dispersed, still cheering, to their positions. Gabriel grabbed my shoulder, and pulled me closer. “Deliver them the evil that they have shown us…De Oppresso Liber.” He let me go, and pulled the desert scarf over his face—only leaving his crazed eyes visible.

  17. Through the Eyes of Anger

  The dugout wasn’t as big as I remembered—I was in a prone position to the right of the pitcher’s mound. I was examining the area through the scope on my M4, with the .50 caliber at my side. Over by the trees stood a new sign I made out of plywood I found in the locker room. In black spray paint I wrote, ‘Liberty NOW.’ They should like that.

  I tried to find everyone out in the field, so I would know their exact locations. It wasn’t hard, for they all stuck out like sore thumbs—Chris and Eric’s heads could be seen bobbing up and down from behind the cars in the school parking lot. Ebben and Toni were on the edge of the roof—not even trying to be discrete. Behind me, on the first base line, Spenser had his head down on his sniper rifle and kept mumbling something to himself. Gabriel is another story—he disappeared, and was not going to be found.

  I grabbed the radio and said, “Ebben and Toni, you need to fall back some—you guys look like you’re about to fall off the roof. Chris and Eric pick a spot and stay there—you’re moving too much.” They all did as I said, and they were now as invisible as Gabriel.

  I looked over my right shoulder to see Spenser continue to mumble.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked.

  He looked up and said, “Praying
.”

  “Oh,” was all I could say, and I resumed my vigilance among the field.

  “Do you not want me to?” Spenser asked in a whisper.

  “As long as you do your part, then I don’t care what you do,” I told him. Then I looked back and said, “Just don’t do it around Gabriel.”

  “But why?” he asked offended. “God is our only true hope. If anyone can, he’ll save us.”

  I could only stare and tell him, “And you definitely don’t want to say that around him.”

  The radio crackled and Toni said, “I’ve got an eye on six Humvees—coming in from the west.” The headlights of the lead vehicle started shining down the road, and my heart started pounding. As my breathing got heavier I realized my breath was shooting from my mouth as white smoke. I turned to Spenser and whispered, “Restrict your breathing.”

  He whispered with panic in his voice. “You think they can hear us breathing?”

  “Your breath, you fool!” I snapped back and began to watch all six Humvee trucks come into view.

  For a split second I thought they were going to ignore Long Leaf, but the lead truck came to a screeching stop. When they all stopped several soldiers filed out of the trucks. They were American Mercenaries—with an exception of five Russian soldiers. The drivers of each truck stayed behind as the rest walked toward the trees of Long Leaf—guns in their hands. Luckily, the soldiers were loud in their chatter.

  The radio crackled again, but this time it was Gabriel.

  “There are

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