by Reed, N. C.
“I can see how terrified you are,” Teri snorted mildly. “All of you are the worst liars ever.”
“Man, liar is. . .that's a harsh sounding word,” Corey said seriously. “It's almost as if you think I'm not telling the truth, you know?” he managed to sound hurt.
“Yeah, that's at the root meaning of the word 'liar',” Dee had to laugh a little despite the situation. “Was this the reason you were hanging out near the school?” she asked as the thought occurred to her.
“Not this in particular,” he replied, being serious. “I'm down for a while thanks to this, so there's not much I can actually do, but I can be here, nearby, in case someone managed to get this far. If nothing else, I can be a meat shield for these kids.”
“Good Lord, Corey,” Teri sounded aghast. “Why would you even say that?”
“Better me than them,” Corey gave a lopsided shrug with his good arm. “And I don't plan on just standing here if something like that happens. While I can't handle a rifle at the moment I can shoot a pistol just fine,” he tapped his holstered sidearm. “And if protecting this school isn't a priority then we have our priorities screwed up. We've already seen how Holman treats children, haven't we,” he stated rather than asked.
“What do you mean?” Dee Talbot asked. That led to the other two telling her about how Holman had sent nearly twenty women at them, some with children stolen from other women, in order to plant a force inside the farm before the attack.
“That's where the kids in the orphanage came from?” she asked.
“Yes,” Teri replied.
Dee Talbot had liked everything she had seen of this place so far, and she had just learned a great deal that made her like it even more. Seeing a young man who had already been injured defending the farm willing to place himself between the children, including her own, and anyone trying to injure them brought home to her the fact that this really was an amazing group of people, all things considered. She almost snorted aloud at the thought of how long Charles would have lasted before someone like the teenager in front of her had stuffed him in a toilet somewhere and flushed it.
She was more glad than ever that she had managed to talk Leon Sanders into letting her bring her children here to live.
-
“That's ten minutes,” Nate said softly to his cohorts. “Time to see what's left. Zach, wide right, Kade wide left. Avoid being in each other’s line of fire, and for damn sure don't shoot me.” He keyed his radio. “Tommy, how copy?”
“Five by,” came the immediate response.
“Any movement from our friends?”
“Negative at this time.”
“Any movement anywhere else?” Nate asked suddenly as the skin on his neck began to feel as if something was crawling across it.
“Stand by,” Tommy replied and Nate almost frowned. He looked at Zach and Kade.
“Three points,” he ordered. “Kade, toward the road, I’ll take east, Zach you take our friends and beyond to the north. Stay low and stay put otherwise. Something about this is wrong.”
“Got it,” both teens replied and slowly moved into position as Nate did the same. Seconds later they were in much better positions to cover themselves.
-
In the cupola Jody Thompson frowned. Something was wrong. He didn't know what it was, but he knew it nonetheless. He picked up the phone in front of him and rang through to the switchboard.
“Operator,” JJ's crisp answer was almost immediate.
“JJ is Bossman there?”
“Negative.”
“How about Deuce?”
“Right here,” JJ replied and two seconds later Leon 'Deuce' Sanders was on the phone.
“Go for Deuce.”
“Kid, I need you to loft the drone again,” Jody said softly. “Don't get away from the front of the building and use the drone to check everything. Even areas we think are already clear. And make a sweep out over where Nate and the others are, too.”
“Something wrong?” Jody could almost hear the younger Sanders' frown.
“There is but I can't find it, if that makes sense,” was all Jody could say.
“Makes perfect sense,” Deuce surprised him. “I need about five minutes.”
“Let me know.” Jody replaced the phone and keyed his radio.
“Scope, how copy?”
“Five by.”
“Hold position. I've requested an overflight. Something is wrong, I just can't find it. I can't see an immediate threat to your position, but that doesn't mean there isn't one. I can't. . .I can't see it,” Jody's frustration came through.
“My skin is crawling,” Nate let Jody know he had the same feeling. “We're holding. Watch our backs.”
“Roger that. I’ll let you know when I hear something.”
-
Clay was waiting at the front of Building Two. While he wasn't privy to the phone call between Jody and his nephew, he hadn't missed the abbreviated conversation between Nate and Jody. Thus, he wasn't surprised when Leon the Younger came out with a drone and launched it as soon as he set it down.
“Jody wants you to take a look around?” Clay asked.
“Yes,” the Deuce's answer was short as he was concentrating on flying the drone and looking at the ranch through the screen. Clay moved over to look over his shoulder, hoping to help without bugging his nephew.
“I'm just giving you an extra set of eyes,” he promised.
“I can use them,” Deuce nodded. “Jody has good instincts. If he thinks something is off, then it probably is.”
“True,” Clay was surprised that his young nephew would know that but didn't comment further. He watched the screen as the drone moved across the ranch, leaving the buildings behind and heading for the spot where Nate and the others were waiting.
“Check the tree line, too,” Clay suggested, getting a nod of affirmation. Deuce piloted the drone along the trees but there was nothing visible that stood out. Sweeping back across the sage, he found Nate, Zach and Kade, then moved directly east of their position. As he neared the extreme range of the drone Deuce manipulated the controls to swing the drone north, covering part of the area where the infiltrators had apparently come from.
“Still nothing,” the teen sounded frustrated. Clay sympathized with him but merely patted his nephew's back in reassurance.
“Moving west,” the Deuce said aloud as he piloted the drone back their way. “Nine minutes left,” he added. Clay was reminded that there was a time limit to even the neatest toys.
“Go down the creek and then come back along the road?” Clay suggested.
“That's what I was thinking,” his nephew agreed. “Hard to cross the creek but not impossible. And we do have that foot bridge, too. Maybe we should take it up?”
“Should have done it once the fire break was done,” Clay sighed. “Something else I missed.”
“You can't do it all,” Deuce shook his head. “There's a ranch full of folks that could have thought of that just as easy as I did… and I didn't think of it until now.”
“It's what I do, though,” Clay reminded him.
“No, it's part of what you do,” Deuce countered. “You do more than any one person on this place, Uncle Clay, and that includes me and Leanne, too. And we work our asses off. Maybe not physically but we get at most six hours sleep a night, and usually not that. Others have to start pulling their weight too.”
“Most everyone works two or more jobs, kid,” Clay pointed out, eyes still glued to the screen.
“I'm not talking about that,” his nephew was shaking his head. “I'm talking about using our brains. Everyone can see and can think. When they see something that's wrong or that we may have overlooked, they need to speak up. We all miss stuff. No one is omnipotent, though I do come pretty close most of the. . .look,” his tone changed abruptly as he put the drone into hover.
“What? . . .a truck,” Clay said softly. He keyed his radio at once.
“Vee, how copy?”
“I need you to take whoever is up there and get to Sentry Five ASAP. Who is on the tower, do you know?”
“Smith,” she replied, indicating that Gary Meecham was on the tower.
“Plate, how copy,” Clay made his next call even as he kept looking at the screen.
“Go for Home Plate,” JJ replied at once.
“Phone Tower Two and tell them that they have incoming from the west, say again from the west. There is at least one truck on the road moving slowly and we've already had an attempt on the east side. Vee and probably T-Square are on their way to Sentry Five so let him know that.”
“Roger that. Plate copies all.”
“Vee, you copy that traffic?” Clay called next.
“Roger that. Technical inbound, west side. Vee and Tee are on the way.”
“Sounds like a rap group,” Deuce snorted and Clay had to laugh. “Look,” Deuce cut his laugh short and drew his attention back to the screen. There were men on the ground flanking the truck.
“Can you get closer?” Clay asked.
“I can but we risk losing the drone if we do,” Deuce warned. “A good shotgun blast would have the same effect as it would on a duck or a dove. Even one pellet could kill it.”
“Can you zoom in on the truck then?” Clay tried again.
“That I can do,” Deuce nodded and used the touch screen tablet to zoom the view in close on the truck. It lost detail but gave them a good look at the truck.
“Front is armored pretty heavy,” Clay sighed. “What is that?” he peered closer, looking at the top of the cab. “There's a guy in the bed and he's got something on the cab of the truck,” he said, more to himself than his nephew.
“Four minutes,” Deuce warned. “I need to start it back this way at one minute or it won't make it.”
“Circle them once and then bring it home,” Clay nodded. “Be ready to fly again as soon as you can.”
“Just need to land this one and change the battery and I'm good,” Deuce promised.
“Thug, how copy?” Clay called.
“Five by,” Mitchell Nolan replied at once.
“I need you to grab a tube of cardboard and head up the hill,” Clay said simply, drawing a puzzled look from Deuce. “Armored technical inbound from the west with foot support.”
“On my way,” Mitchell promised at once.
“Scope, how copy?”
“We've copied all,” Nate replied. “How do you want us to proceed?”
“Drone showed your area clear. That was probably meant to be a distraction. Clean and clear, then get back here.”
“Roger that.”
Clay paused, thinking about what was coming and what else could happen, who was available and what might be needed.
“What's a tube of cardboard gonna do?” Deuce interrupted his thought process.
“What? Oh, it's a LAW rocket. I was just trying to make sure if anyone could hear us they wouldn't know what was coming. If it's a soldier then he might figure it out, but there's not enough armor on that truck to counter a LAW, I'm pretty sure.”
“What is that on the cab?” Leon asked as the drone came into sight.
“Honestly? It looks like a M1919 Browning. An antique but a damn dangerous one. If we were still a first world nation and things hadn't gone to hell I'd be trying to buy it. It fires a Springfield Ought Six round, usually, but there were a lot of rounds it was used for. I'd bet on this one being the thirty caliber, though.”
“That sounds bad,” Deuce said as he expertly caught the drone.
“Very bad if they have armor piercing rounds or incendiary rounds or-,”
“I get it,” Deuce nodded. “Sound the alarm?”
“Yeah,” Clay sighed. “I didn't want to, but this changes things. Get it done.”
“On it.” The teen hurried inside while Clay keyed his radio once more.
“Vee, that technical has what looks like a M19 Browning mounted on the cab. No idea where they got it, but we’ll have to assume it's the Oh Six caliber, so use extreme caution.”
“Roger that,” Vicki replied. “Request heavy weapons support,” she added.
“On the way,” Clay promised. “Whisper, are you in position?”
“Affirmative,” Heath's quiet answer was short and simple.
“Can you get a shot at that truck?” Clay asked.
“Not yet,” Heath replied. “I'm working on it. There may be one spot where I can get a clear shot. I've loaded AP Ralph in case.”
“Don't wait for me,” Clay ordered. “If you get a shot at the truck, the gun or the gunner either one you take it. There might not be another.”
“Copy that.”
The Raufoss 211 round from a BMG like the Barrett would tear that truck inside out if Heath got a shot at it. The catch being the 'if' part of that statement.
“Where the hell did those losers get a Nineteen?” Tandi asked as he made it to where Clay was standing.
“How do we have an armory that could outfit a short battalion?” Clay shrugged.
“That's different,” Tandi said at once, his head shaking. “Big Bear knew a guy and we had a lot of money.”
“Do you think that his 'guy' was the only one unhappy with his retirement plan? Besides, that thing hasn't been in U.S. inventory for I don't even know how long. It was probably in private hands and these guys stole it, or hell, maybe one of them owned it before things went south. For now, that doesn't matter. What matters is we have at least a dozen foot-mobile Tangos bearing down on us supported by a technical carrying a machine gun. As the kids love to say these days, shit done got real.”
“You think this is it?” Tandi asked.
“No, I don't,” Clay admitted. “But this is what's showing. I want you to have Nate and his group cover the east when they return. Mitchell and Vicki have Titus to help them. I can send Gordy there to support, but I'd prefer to keep at least two for response, so let’s have you and Gordy do that for now, yeah? Add Pancho once he's up.”
“Works,” Tandi nodded. “We need to get the people off the hill,” he added.
“They have a plan for that once the alarm sounds,” Clay said. “Hopefully, it works. It will help that most of the children are at the school.” He keyed his radio again.
“Pancho, you up?” Jose had taken the late watch and would have been asleep until the alarm was sounded.
“Roger that,” a sleepy sounding Jose replied.
“When you're mobile, report to Map Point and stand by with Doc and Chip. We still don't have a clear picture of what's happening. We need a response team just in case.”
“On my way.”
“I think I’ll call Greg and-,” he started only to have said person walk out of Building Two geared up and ready to go.
“I hear we have borrowing neighbors inbound?” he asked as he worked the bolt on his rifle.
“I was just about to see if you'd like to come with me to meet them,” Clay nodded.
“Love to,” Greg said at once. “Shall we?”
“Call Gordy to join you,” Clay ordered Tandi as he started moving. “And keep an eye on the perimeter. Deuce is supposed to be ready to fly again the minute you think you need it.”
“Got it.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
-
Clay and Greg slid into the Sentry Five bunker just a minute or so after Mitchell Nolan had.
“Getting awful cozy in here,” Vicki noted. “Still no sign of them,” she added to Clay. Clay picked up the phone and spun the handle.
“Operator,” JJ answered at once.
“JJ, this is Clay. I need to talk to Tower Two.”
“Stand by,” came the reply, followed by a few clicks and then Gary Meecham picked up.
“Tower Two,” he said abruptly.
“Gary, this is Clay. I'm below you in Sentry Five. Do you have a visual?”
“Not much of one, but I have caught a few flash
es of color here and there,” Meecham replied. “Not enough to take a shot at.”
“I see. Keep us advised please, especially if you see that technical. I need to know the minute it comes into view. And hold your fire for now. I don't want them going to ground yet.”
“Will do,” Meecham promised. Clay replaced the handset, mind working quickly.
“Who thinks this is all there is?” he asked the group. No one spoke.
“Let me rephrase that. Who among us thinks this might still be a diversion?”
“I think it's possible,” Vicki said. “But they could be moving so slow because they're waiting for a signal from that other bunch before committing.”
“Point,” Clay nodded.
“If they know as much as we think they do, then they know we're weak on numbers,” Mitchell Nolan pointed out. “They could be trying to stretch our defenses out. Spread us too thin. If they still have the kind of numbers they hit us with the first time and they come at us in a whipsaw, it just might work.”
“Another point,” Clay agreed. “I have to believe that Holman would have difficulty getting another attack like that one together, but I don't dare assume that he can't. As sure as I do that, he’ll manage it and we're screwed.”
“A heavily armored technical with a Browning machine gun probably looks like a game changer to them,” Greg Holloway said softly. “You didn't use anything that heavy last time, and even if you had no one lived through it. There was only so much Joshua Webb could share with Holman or his proxy, and things like that LAW aren't on that list. No one outside the security team knows you have anything like that. Josh probably didn't know a Ma Deuce from that M19, and to amateurs a machine gun is a machine gun is a machine gun.”
“Okay, that makes a hell of a lot of sense,” Mitchell Nolan was nodding eagerly before Greg ever finished. “They draw our attention to the east, then hit us from the west with something heavier than they think we can handle. With the element of surprise, they could do a hell of a lot of damage if we weren't as well prepared as we are. For that matter they maybe still can. We don't know that the only thing in that truck is a Browning. What else could be in there?”
“My money is on Molotov Cocktails to start,” Titus Terry spoke for the first time since the start of the action. “Cheap, easy to make, looks cool on television if you're an idiot and can do a lot of damage if they're used right… What?” he asked when he noted everyone looking at him.
