by Nathan Jones
Still, to be safe he carefully drew out the kid's pistol and tossed it away. He'd probably just alarm the soldiers if he went for his 1911 in its concealed carry holster to toss away, although he'd inform them of it. “I'm Lewis Halsson, truck 79,” he continued. “This kid tried to rob me, but the situation's under control.”
“Step away from him,” the lead soldier, a sergeant, called.
Lewis did, keeping his hands far out to his sides. The soldiers quickly closed in around them, patting them both down. “I have a concealed pistol,” Lewis said as soon as they began. “Underarm holster, left side.”
He was quickly relieved of it, while the sergeant crouched to pick up the other pistol, unloading it then doing a chamber check and putting on the safety. “This was the firearm that recently fired a shot?” he asked, although from his tone he'd already identified that it was.
Lewis nodded. “It's the kid's. It went off as I disarmed him. Neither of us were hurt by the shot.”
“He broke my fingers!” his attacker whined.
“While I was disarming him,” Lewis added. He held the sergeant's eye. “Lieutenant Faraday told me I should take any issues to him.”
The noncom glared at him for a moment, then at the kid, then sighed. “Fine, let's take this to the LT.”
They didn't need to take it far. Faraday was already headed their way from the convoy with another squad; Lewis should've realized that a gunshot so near the convoy would really rattle some nerves. At the sight of his soldiers returning with Lewis and another man in custody, and the “all clear” signal the sergeant gave him, the lieutenant relaxed slightly. He paused for a moment to speak into his headset, likely reporting in, then turned his glare on Lewis. “What happened?” he demanded.
“This guy tried to rob me,” Lewis said. He nodded to the sergeant. “He has the weapon he used.”
Faraday motioned curtly, and his subordinate displayed the safety on and handed the pistol grip-first to him. The lieutenant did a quick chamber check and then examined it. “It's been fired recently. The gunshot?”
Lewis nodded. “A miss.”
After handing the weapon off to a member of his squad, who did his own chamber check before pocketing it, the lieutenant returned his glare to Lewis. “Remember me warning you your visit was a bad idea?” he growled.
“I didn't think it would be a problem with Americans,” Lewis said with a sheepish shrug.
“Well now you know.” Faraday sighed. “Okay, let's hear it.”
It didn't take long to give the details of his encounter, first his near confrontation with the residents of Alpine and then the ambush on the way back. “So what do we do about him?” Lewis asked once he was finished.
The lieutenant shrugged. “I suppose he's learned his lesson. We'll give him back his gun and send him on his way a better man.” Lewis was pretty sure the man was joking and laughed, and was relieved when several of the soldiers joined him. After a moment Faraday chuckled too. “No seriously. We hand him over to whoever's in charge in town and let them deal with it.”
Lewis wasn't sure he liked that any more than the first option. He'd been assaulted with a deadly weapon, he wanted to make sure justice was done. “They might let him off.”
“In which case they'll be grooming a violent criminal they'll have the joy of dealing with themselves. Give them a little credit.” The junior officer shrugged again, not looking particularly happy about the situation. “We're technically outside our area of influence and these people haven't come under our protection yet, although it's looking like they will. But until then I've got my orders not to overstep myself while dealing with them, so I'll let them handle justice for their own people.” He nodded towards the gun tucked in his soldier's pocket. “We'll be keeping that, though. No sense giving a thug back his weapon.”
“How am I going to defend myself without a weapon?” the kid protested. Lewis realized he still didn't even know the guy's name.
Faraday gave him a stern look. “Protecting yourself seems pretty low on your list of priorities.” He jerked a thumb Lewis's way. “And you should consider yourself lucky he's in your town and you're not in his. His people have a reputation for how they handle your sort.” He pantomimed a noose and made some choking noises.
Lewis hadn't realized Aspen Hill had that sort of notoriety, especially when it came to how they dealt with crime. That probably had to do with the attention they'd gotten during the incident with Rogers last fall. He hoped the lieutenant was just trying to scare the kid, and didn't actually think his town went around hanging criminals willy nilly.
True to his word Faraday personally went with his men, the criminal in tow, to discuss the matter with the town. Lewis was allowed to return to his truck, where Gutierrez and Carrie were both waiting curiously.
“What was that about?” Gutierrez asked.
Lewis slumped down on the driver's side step and sighed. “Attempted robbery. Also apparently the townspeople blame us for their suffering.”
“Guess we know to steer clear of Alpine if we come this way again for trading,” Carrie said.
“Yeah.” Lewis pushed to his feet, clapping Gutierrez on the shoulder as he made for his tent. “You got first watch?”
“Sure. Night, man.”
He made it inside his tent and closed the zipper before he started shaking. He didn't try to stop it, either, just focused on his breathing as he pulled himself into his sleeping bag with his coat as a pillow.
Robbed at gunpoint. After all he'd been through, with everyone who depended on him, he'd almost got shot by a kid who wanted to steal his stuff. Had it been worth risking his life instead of just giving it over? Maybe, since his attacker had been unstable and might've ended up shooting him anyway.
He'd taken a risk, but it was one he'd been confident in. Anyway, unless he wanted to change how he'd act in a similar situation in the future there was no point in dwelling on it.
Hindsight.
* * * * *
Lewis would've liked to reach San Antonio the next day, but they were still looking at more than twenty hours at their current speed. It meant they'd reach the trade summit tomorrow morning and should have most of the day for trading, so there was that.
Even though they were still in Arizona, the convoy crossed the border with Mexico the moment they reached Highway 10. They found a roadblock there, a score of Mexican soldiers and some heavy weaponry in a hastily built fortification.
The border guards were cordial enough, welcoming them in and giving instructions on traveling through Mexican territory to reach San Antonio. But it was obvious they were nervous about facing off against American troops while brazenly occupying American land.
Mexico's official justification was retaking territory the US had initially taken from them. As a US citizen Lewis had his own opinion about that, but even that justification fell through since they'd moved beyond the borders they'd historically held, especially when they began expanding to take the entire South.
There wasn't much anyone could do about it right now, though. The US, CCZ, and Canada were all more than occupied fighting each other, and none of them were too interested in expanding the war to another front to include a relatively intact country with a largely untouched military, just to go after territory that was mostly abandoned and nobody had been fighting over.
Maybe sometime in the future. Although Lewis had a feeling the map would never show the same borders as it had before the Gulf burned.
Which wasn't important at the moment. That morning Faraday had passed on instructions that anyone who caused trouble when they reached the border or afterwards would be passed over to Mexico for justice. So in spite of their nervousness the Mexican soldiers were treated politely by everyone, and the convoy was quickly ushered through and continued on its way.
Which wasn't to say there wasn't more than a little grumbling from other members of the convoy using the civilian channels on their CBs.
It seemed like a lo
t of people were more than a little angry about the annexation of land. The rumbles had started that morning when Faraday announced they'd soon be passing through territory Mexico had claimed. After seeing the checkpoint that confirmed what they all knew, that their country was being occupied by yet another power, the rumbles increased to open resentment, which only grew the farther they traveled towards the summit.
Some of the land around them had already been resettled by Mexican farmers busy at work growing the season's crop, and the expanses of tilled farmland increased in size and number the closer they got to San Antonio. But if Lewis could be grateful for one thing, it was that Mexico's offer of safe passage to the summit seemed sincere: aside from passing a few waving farmers, and having to stop for several minutes as a herd of goats ran across the road, shooed by a few embarrassed herders, the convoy traveled undisturbed that entire day.
It was all through scenery Lewis had traveled through before and recognized, only now it was all subtly different. Or majorly different, when they passed the ruins of towns that had been abandoned, or even worse burned down by blockheads.
That evening Faraday came around as they were setting up camp.
“Just wanted to make sure you weren't letting your guard down now that we're past the border,” he told them. “Even with the assurance of safe conduct there's plenty of potential dangers. We could come under attack from one of the other factions, ie one that starts with “C” and ends with “Z”, and also Mexico is likely having just as many problems with bandits as anyone else, so we'll have to look out for that. I suppose there's even a possibility this is some sort of double cross and we'll be attacked by their army itself, maybe masquerading as common bandits.”
“We'll be ready if anything happens,” Lewis assured him. “Although I've been meaning to ask: do you have any idea why they invited us, the CCZ, and the Canadians all at the same time? Seems like they're just asking for trouble.”
The lieutenant snorted. “Yeah, I could've done without the blockheads coming to the party, at least.” He shrugged. “Like they say, it's a summit. They want us to trade with each other as well as them, particularly fuel from Canada so all our convoys can keep bringing goods their way. They also want to negotiate with leaders to get commitments on safe travel; inside their borders definitely, and if they can manage it in the nearby territories as well.”
Lewis nodded. Convoys getting raided was bad for trade, and long term could harm the country staging the raids as much as their victims, as trade became impossible for everyone. And when that trade was for food they all needed, that would be a bad thing.
“Do the Mexicans know blockhead slavers have been raiding all over US and Canada?” Carrie demanded. “They're not good trading partners.”
Faraday shrugged again. “I'm sure they're not thrilled. But not inviting them would be even worse, since it means they'd become a target for raids as well. A prime target, since they've got the food.”
Gutierrez cut in. “If Mexico joined up on our side we could wipe out the blockheads for good, or at least hit them hard enough to force them to cease hostilities.”
“Yeah, we'll definitely be pushing for that,” the junior officer agreed. “But I personally don't hold out much hope they'll join in on anyone's side. War is costly, trade is profitable, and they're a neutral party everyone's motivated to get along with.”
“Even if they don't join the fight they're still helping,” Lewis added. “They're a stabilizing force that's pushing for peace and commerce to everyone's benefit. If nothing else things will be quieter to the south with them guarding their border and safeguarding convoys.”
“True enough. We'll know a lot more when we reach San Antonio and see how this summit pans out.” Faraday slapped the hood of their truck in farewell, nodded to his escort, and continued on down the line.
It was an uneventful night. Lewis had the middle shift, during the darkest hours. He had his night vision, but he only used it every half hour or so or when he heard suspicious noises. He didn't want to waste batteries, and anyway there was a lot to be said for enjoying the night sky.
He got to do a lot of that these days, since light pollution was practically nonexistent.
They set off early the next morning, pushing hard for San Antonio. It was still a couple hours to noon when they came in sight of the ruins sprawling up ahead.
The summit would take place in a large field a mile or so north of the city. It was crudely cordoned off with hastily erected fences and concertina wire, not only around the outside but also splitting the field into five sections. There were few permanent structures but a lot of tents, including several large interconnected ones in the center section. The four other sections were in the corners, all marked and separated to be occupied by the Canadian, US, CCZ, and Mexican convoys. The center of the camp was the largest space, a small part of it sectioned off for the main structures and tents and the far larger part set aside for a sprawling marketplace.
The other three corners of the camp, as well as most of the marketplace, were already crowded with people who'd come to trade, with hundreds of vehicles parked in the other nations' designated lots and their camp areas packed with tents. The US side was mostly empty aside from the Mexican soldiers already patrolling it for security reasons, although that would quickly change now that their convoy had arrived.
All activity in the camp halted at the US convoy's approach, people stopping to stare as they pulled up to the entrance in their corner of the camp. The guards there let them in without ceremony, stopping them only long enough to, as Lewis assumed, give a few basic instructions for how to set up camp.
The convoy's soldiers spent the next half hour directing the vehicles to parking spaces and camp locations. Due to some quirk in the vehicle placement, or maybe because Colonel Grimes wanted Carrie nearby to assist him, Lewis was directed to park their truck just outside of the military's section of camp, near where the large command tent would be set up.
Aspen Hill's truck was one of the first Lieutenant Faraday visited, to let them know that they should stay put until the Mexican officials had filled them in on the summit's schedule and the rules for trading in the marketplace. He also let them know that once they did leave to trade, the convoy's soldiers would be assigned to patrol the camp and prevent theft. That way the civilians would be free to go and do their business without worrying about their stuff getting stolen.
The junior officer must've seen Lewis's skepticism. “We've got an inventory of your trade goods,” he assured them. “If anything gets stolen on our watch we guarantee compensation.”
That was all well and good, assuming they received full value for the stolen goods. But even so Lewis wasn't planning on testing their luck; where possible he'd have someone stay back to guard their stuff.
“What's to prevent people from pretending their stuff has been stolen to get double value on them?” Gutierrez asked.
Faraday smiled thinly. “Skeptical Military Police and a very, very harsh punishment if caught.”
And that was another point for guarding their own stuff.
Before more could be said they got to enjoy a perk about being so close to the command tent: the official Mexican representative had arrived to greet General Erikson and his staff, and they were close enough that with a bit of sidling they were in earshot to hear the exchange. Lewis was amused to notice that even Faraday temporarily abandoned his task of visiting all the civilian trucks, unabashedly joining in on their eavesdropping.
General Erikson and the senior officers, along with their aides, gathered to meet the representative, who definitely stood out in the crowd. Specifically, the Mexican official was overweight; not excessively so, but in a world where almost everyone was struggling just to eat day to day he might've been the first rotund person Lewis had seen in years.
The man wore a middling quality suit and was only a few years older than Lewis. His broad smile revealed gleaming white teeth in a stark contrast to his healthy
tan, which he flashed nonstop as he immediately went in for enthusiastic handshakes, starting with the General himself.
“Bienvenidos, General Erikson!” he said with only a slight Spanish accent. “Welcome to our trade summit! I am Manuel Rodriguez, one of the President's secretaries. I've been assigned to see to your delegation's needs during your stay.”
“Thank you, Mr. Rodriguez,” Erikson replied. “When is the summit expected to start?”
The secretary's easy smile slipped. “Ah. Lo siento mucho, sir, I'm afraid it already has.”
“Without us?” Grimes demanded, stepping forward.
“Yes. The trading, at least. Obviously the formalities with the various representatives of the four nations will be planned for tomorrow, now that you've arrived. And of course your people are welcome to enter the market in the center of the camp and begin trading once they've been briefed on the rules. And you and your staff are of course invited to a formal reception with the other nations' dignitaries this evening, after which we will host a feast which everyone in camp is invited to attend.”
That definitely got Lewis's attention. He noticed it got Carrie's as well, probably more the formal reception part of it, since she'd probably be expected to go with Grimes.
“We are very glad to accept, and grateful for your hospitality,” Erikson said.
Rodriguez nodded, then hesitated. ”I was, however, instructed by the President to give you a friendly warning: your country's position in the trade negotiations is very poor.”
The General's smile slipped a notch. “Might I ask the reason?”
“Of course, sir. Canada has assured us a steady supply of much-needed fuel from their nearly completed refineries. We are confident in their ability to deliver on their assurances, with the aid of the supplies we offer. As for the Central Controlled Zone . . .” the secretary chuckled, “well, they have a great deal of military hardware and large numbers of soldiers we'd prefer not to have directed our way. That gives them a bit of extra consideration at the table. Whereas the New United States of America?” He shrugged as if that said it all.
