THE TOCABAGA CHRONICLES: (BOX SET - PART I - BOOKS #1-5)

by Thomas H. Ward

  “Yes of course but I am still five short. I need five good shooters.”

  “Ok I’ll tell Willis to select five Rangers to go for added security.”

  “Great, thank you Colonel, we will leave tomorrow at sunrise.”

  We spent the rest of the day packing guns and gear and checking the trucks. SGM Willis selected five good Rangers to ride along for security.

  I was a little worried about what we would find and I didn’t like the idea of Maggie and Amy coming along. If and when the shooting starts you have enough problems trying to stay alive let alone watching out for someone else. Needless to say my wife was not happy about the trip.

  JUNE 12, 2025

  At 7 am everyone was there ready to go. Willis and Smith were standing there and each had an MK 153 SMAW rocket launcher.

  The MK153 SMAW means Shoulder-launched, Muti-purpose Assault Weapon. This is a hand held shoulder fired missile system used to blow up vehicles and buildings. A very powerful weapon that is reusable. You fire a missile and put in a new one.

  I gave Willis a curious look and he commented, “We are bringing these little babies along for just in case.”

  Everyone had a big laugh from that comment and I shouted, “Mount up.”

  As we drove off of Tocabaga riding in the first Hummer was SGM (Sergeant Major) Willis, two new Rangers who were picked by Willis for security, SPC (Specialist) Jones and SFC (Sergeant First Class) Kang. Willis drove and I rode shotgun. SPC Jones was in charge of the big gun. The two trucks had one Ranger in each and there was one Ranger in the rear Humvee along with Amy, Maggie, and SGT Smith.

  Captain Riley was standing on top of her tank the Iron Maiden as we were leaving and shouted, “Good luck guys!”

  Arriving at the toll booth at the Skyway we stopped at a Ranger check point. There were about 12 men there and we told them we would be back today in a few hours. We advised them of our plan because if anything happened this would be the team that would come to help us. Pulling away, Willis hit the gas and got us up to a cruising speed of 55 mph, in ten minutes we arrived at the last check point, the south toll booth. We stopped and informed the Rangers where we were going.

  Driving south on Route 75 we arrived at the State Route 301 exit, as we turned off the road it was blocked by two Manatee Sheriffs cars. There were eight Deputies standing in the road. They pointed their rifles at us. We stopped but did not get out and waited for a Deputy to walk up to us.

  Walking up to Willis he asked, “What is the Army doing here?”

  Willis advised him, “We are on a mission to purchase a tractor at a farm located on Route 301.”

  “You need a 50 caliber machine gun to buy a tractor? It sounds to me like you’re going to steal one instead. What’s the name of the farm?”

  “It’s Horn and Sons Farm.”

  “We know that farm it is about five miles east of here. I must warn you that farm is a fortress and has about thirty people living there all armed. They’re not friendly and don’t like people coming around. They are kind of weird if you ask me. So you need to be careful. Maybe it’s a good thing you have some big machine guns.”

  “Thank you for the warning but they are expecting us. We will be back here in a few hours.”

  “You guys are well armed so maybe you won’t have any problems. By the way where are you guys based?”

  “We are based at Fort Desoto, see you later.” The Deputy waved us pass their check point.

  As we passed by the old Ellenton Mall we noticed a lot of people hanging around. People were walking around and others were selling junk, guns, or anything to make money on the side of the road. We slowed down but didn’t stop and as we drove by many people waved and yelled go Army. Almost everyone carried some type of firearm.

  I told Willis, “It looks like a lot of people are living at the mall and this is also a hot spot for buying, trading, and selling goods.”

  “Yes Sir that is exactly what they are doing. They are trying to stay alive by keeping in groups, the poor fools.”

  Ten minutes later, Willis stopped the Humvee saying, “Here we are, Horn and Sons Farm.”

  Looking up there was an old beat up sign hanging that read “Horn & Sons Farm,” it was barely readable. It was kind of scary looking with some kind of skulls mounted on each side of the sign. We proceeded onto the bumpy dirt road, the main driveway.

  This was a long drive way and we couldn’t see any farm buildings. We followed the road for about two miles winding thru old mossy oak trees. I felt like we were being watched. It reminded me of the old movie “The Hills Have Eyes” a story about an inbred family who were overdosed by radiation. They killed people and ate them.

  Willis asked me, “What the hell is that smell? It smells like some kind of shit.”

  “That my friend is the smell of good old pig shit. This must be a pig farm.”

  The smell was over whelming and even made me gag, so I wondered how Amy and Maggie liked it.

  All of a sudden there was a steel gate with ten men standing there pointing guns at us. Looking to my left and right I saw at least another ten men. Most of them had long beards and wore straw hats to keep the sun off their heads. On the other side of the gate about 500 feet away was an old house in need of paint and a barn to the left. I saw a few tractors by the barn. Far to the right I saw the pigs about 300 yards away. The whole compound was ringed by a 12 foot high barb wire fence.

  A man walked up to the Hummer and asked, “What you Army boys want?”

  I replied, “We’re here to buy one of your tractors. We contacted you by the internet.”

  “Oh yep, did Maggie come with you?”

  “Yes she did.”

  “Did y’ all bring the money?”

  “Yes we have the money.”

  “Good let me see it.”

  I unzipped the money bag and showed him. He commented, “That’s a lot of bucks there. Come on in.”

  He swung open the gate for us to pull in and Willis got on the radio and told the convoy, “We are going in everyone else stay here outside the gate and be ready for anything. Smith bring Maggie up here and drop her off.”

  Smith pulled up and Maggie got out. I told her to get in my Humvee. She squeezed inside and we drove into the barn yard where they signaled us to stop in front of a gigantic man. He looked to be about 6 foot 8 inches and probably tipped the scale at 400 pounds.

  As we were getting out of the Humvee the large man came over and said, “I am Mr. Horn and these are my boys and brothers. This must be Maggie.”

  I put out my hand and said, “I am Jack Gunn.”

  He replied, “I don’t give a shit who y’all are.”

  He walked past me, stepped over to Maggie taking off his hat, and stuck his hand out for her to shake. I didn’t want to shake that pig shit hand anyway but Maggie did and afterward I saw her wipe her hand off on her jeans.

  I could tell we were going to have problems buying a tractor.

  Most of the good old farmer boys came over and just stared at Maggie like she was the first woman they had ever seen, or like she was a fine piece of meat, or a new car. I think they were drooling. I thought we are in trouble for sure.

  Horn told his men, “See I told you she’d be pretty.”

  One replied, “Yes Sir Daddy, she’s a looker all right.”

  “Now back up and give her some room,” Horn commanded.

  Horn asked Maggie, “How’s a pretty thing like y’all know so much about tractors?”

  “I studied tractors on the internet and have driven a few. I am a farmer,” Maggie replied, looking at him like he was crazy.

  “You’re a farmer are you? I think you’d be better off making babies.” All the good old boys laughed at his comment.

  I was thinking Mr. Horn is nuts and these people are weird. I just want to do business and get out of here. I whispered that to Willis and he shook his head yes.

  I said, “Mr. Horn can you show us the tractor and equipment?”
/>   “Oh … the tractor … I plum forgot about it looking at this pretty lady.”

  “Y’all see ‘em over there next to the barn and there is some in the barn. Go look at ‘em.”

  I told Maggie, “Come on lets go check them out.”

  Horn blurted out, “No need for her to go she can stay here with me. The pig shit smell is bad over there.”

  “I have to go look Mr. Horn, Jack doesn’t know anything about tractors,” Maggie replied.

  Maggie and I walked over to the tractors and looked in disbelief at what we saw. The tractors were all rusted pieces of junk. Each one had tires missing and one didn’t even have a motor. They were all totally unusable.

  I turned around to see Horn talking to a bunch of his men. I thought oh no we are in deep pig shit now. I saw Willis walk back to the Humvee and open the door. Willis waved at me to return to the Humvee.

  I told Maggie, “These tractors are all junk. Let’s get out of here these guys are dangerous.”

  Maggie not sensing danger, shouted to Horn, “These tractors are all junk and don’t look anything like the pictures you sent me! Why did you lie about the tractors?”

  We briskly walked back toward the Humvee passing close by Horn and his men who were more or less blocking our way when Horn yelled, “Grab ‘em boys, get that girl we need another Breeder.”

  His men grabbed Maggie and one guy hit me in the back knocking me down so I reached for my Glock. Two humongous dirt bags picked me up and took my gun out of my hand like it was a toy. Mr. Horn now had a firm grip on Maggie‘s left arm, with his huge hand.

  Maggie screamed, “Let me go you stinking pig!”

  Horn while laughing shouted to Willis, “Hey Army boy throw me the money and I’ll let this man go. But I am keeping this pretty thing to be my next wife. Hurry up now, I have 50 guns pointed at you from that house.”

  Willis replied, “Fifty guns, thanks for telling me,” as he pulled out the MK 153 SMAW rocket launcher and took aim.

  Horn yelled, “Hey what the hell you doing?”

  It was too late Willis fired the rocket, it zoomed past us making a loud jet roar, and flew into the house …KABOOM … blowing it to shit. Whoever was inside was dead now. The explosion knocked some of the men down, showering us with fragments of wood and glass.

  Willis reloaded the launcher and fired it again at the barn … KABOOM … another big explosion.

  Jones started to fire the 50 caliber big gun cutting down Horn’s men who were all around us. The other Hummer pulled up fast and also opened fire on the nitwits. Dam those big guns make a lot of noise. I was sure glad the Rangers knew how to shot straight since we were in the line of fire. My remaining men jumped out of the vehicles and were all firing their M 4 carbines at the straw hat scum bags.

  The big guy that hit me was standing there frozen from all the noise, the fool let go of me to hold his ears, he didn’t like the noise, he was confused and didn’t know what to do. I quickly pulled out my Cold Steel knife and stabbed him in the heart; he let out a big roar like a bear being killed. Then I cut his throat, he dropped on the spot.

  The other enormous shit head standing next to me reached out to grab my knife so I slashed his fingers off and jumped at him at the same time, stabbing him in the neck. He fell like a big tree trying to hold his head on. I saw my Glock on the ground near his foot, picking it up I shot three other men standing near me before they knew what had happen.

  I turned to take aim at Horn who still had Maggie in his grasp; he was dragging her away towards a small building. She was kicking and flailing her free right hand at Horn. I couldn’t get a clear shot and yelled to her, “Shoot him Maggie, shoot him!”

  Maggie must have heard me yell; using her free right hand she managed to pull out her .38 revolver. She pointed the barrel at Horns’ head, a large target you cannot miss, and pulled the trigger, shooting him in the eye, blowing the back of his fat head off. His big obese body fell like a rock, hitting the ground with a thud.

  Horn either didn’t see her gun or didn’t think she would use it. In any case I knew she would without any remorse. Mr. Horn messed with the wrong Breeder.

  I yelled, “Come on Maggie run!”

  Maggie and I ran for the cover of the Humvee, and jumped inside.

  A few moments later the firing stopped. All was quite except for the moaning of the scum bags wounded or dying. There is no telling how many men we killed and we weren’t going stick around to find out.

  I told Willis, “Let’s get out of this pig shit hole and go home.”

  We sped away down the two mile dirt driveway to Route 301 the main highway. We pulled over there to check if everyone was ok and to see if any damage was done to the trucks. Thank God no one was shot. There were a lot bullet marks on the Hummers and some holes in the pickup trucks but no major damage.

  Amy came up to Maggie, hugged her, and said, “That was a close one. Are you ok Maggie?”

  “I am ok now that farmer Horn is dead. What a dumb bastard!”

  I said, “So much for searching on internet for tractors. Horn wanted you for Breeding. Are you a good Breeder Maggie?” Everyone got a laugh out of that comment.

  “Well if everyone is ok let’s go home, I had enough for one day.”

  As we approached the Ellenton Mall, where all the people were hanging out we saw four black SUVs’ blocking the road. We stopped a few hundred yards away to see what they were doing.

  Willis commented, “They look like Feds to me. They’re the only ones that drive those black SUVs’.”

  Looking threw my rifle scope I saw eight men randomly taking money and guns from the people on the side of the road. On their vests were the letters FBI and ATF. I thought oh no more Feds.

  “You are right Willis they are Feds. We can’t turn around because this is the only safe way back to Tocabaga.”

  I told everyone on the radio, “We will pull up and stop to check this out but we will not let them take our guns or money. Everyone be ready.”

  Pulling up to them, all eight men walked up to our convoy and circled our trucks. Their guns, H&K UMPs’ were at the ready. One walked up to me and asked, “What is the Army doing here?”

  The UMP is a magazine fed submachine gun firing from a closed bolt. The UMP is chambered for .45 ACP to provide more stopping power against unarmored targets. The .45 ACP cartridges produce a lot of recoil, and make control difficult in full automatic. The cyclic fire rate is 600 rounds per minute.

  I had already pulled out my Glock and it was on my lap ready to use. Jones cocked the big 50 getting ready to fire if ordered to do so.

  I replied, “We are on a confidential mission. What are you Feds doing here?”

  Presidential Order 13603. We suggest you do not interfere, mind your own business, and just move along.”

  “You know Order 13603 is a violation of the US Constitution and the Army believes it’s an act of treason. Why are you taking the guns away from these people and their money? They’re just trying to stay alive.”

  “You Army guys better leave now or there’s going to be trouble. You know you look familiar to me. What’s your name?”

  “My name is Jack Gunn, what’s your name?”

  “I am Special Agent Fellows, the Agent in Charge here and I am the one asking the questions not you. I am the Boss man here.”

  The FBI agent pulled out his smart phone and was checking something … then he said, “You are Jack Gunn? Jack Gunn was killed by al-Qaida according to this.”

  “That’s another Jack Gunn.”

  “No this is your picture here and there is an arrest warrant out on you for the murder of Aalee Abdual.”

  Agent Fellows was slowly raising is right hand to the trigger of his UMP45 so I pulled out my Glock sticking it in his face and said, “Don’t touch that gun Fellows or I will blow your head off. That is a bull shit warrant because Aalee was wanted for terrorist acts against the US government. I killed him in self defense. Fifty people saw it happen.
”

  “It doesn’t say anything in here about that.”

  Willis told his Rangers on the radio, “Heads up men be ready to rock and roll.” Rock and roll means be ready to shoot on full automatic fire.

  Willis got out of the Humvee, and walked over to Agent Fellows pointing his M 4 right in his face and advised him, “Agent Fellows we do not want any trouble here. Mr. Gunn is under the protection of the Army Rangers so there isn’t any way you or anyone else is going to arrest him.

  “We have you out gunned and out manned. Now have your men all lay down their weapons and take 50 steps backwards or we are going to open fire. Put down all your weapons including hand guns. You got 10 seconds to do so.”

  Agent Fellows ordered his men to lay down their guns and move back 50 steps. SPC Jones and SFC Kang walked around and collected the guns throwing them in a pile. By this time people started coming over and a crowd was gathering on the side of the road.

  They started to chant, “Kill those Feds, kill those Feds, kill those Feds!”

  SGM (Sergeant Major) Willis yelled to the crowd, “Anyone who had a gun or money taken by these guys go in their trucks and take them back. If anyone wants a new gun take one of those in the pile.”

  The crowd yelled, “Go Army!”

  Agent Fellows shouted, “You can’t do that these people will kill us!”

  “Agent Fellows, you reap what you sow. We’re leaving now so good luck,” Willis told him.

  Speaking to the crowd again Willis said, “We are leaving these Feds under your control so be nice to them.”

  Willis looking at me and then at the four black GMC SUVs and asked, “Jack why don’t you take these. They are fully armored and you can always use a good vehicle, these are almost new.”

  I thought about it for a minute and replied, “Good idea Willis, it maybe stealing but when I think about all the tax money we have paid over the years it is only fair that the Feds donate these trucks to Tocabaga. Besides that they screwed me out of my social security money.

  “Tommy you drive one, I’ll drive one, Amy, and Tony you each drive one. At least we won’t go home empty handed. Willis you ride with me.”