by E. C. Marsh
“Hello, Ken? It’s Jeffrey, we’ve had a radio transmission from one of the military perimeter patrols. They have spotted the civilians you talked about earlier. We’ve requested that Base Command detain them until one of us can get there and talk to them. Where exactly are you right now?”
Ken Messer scratched his head and consulted his map. “I’m in U as in Uniform. Where are they?”
“Weeellll, they are not really on our turf, take a look at your map. Just above E - Echo, is this little river, about 1/2 mile down river and on the other shore is our perimeter patrol. The river splits at that spot, our guests are on the island in the middle of the river. The patrol is on the shore. How fast can you get there?”
“You have got to be joking! Tell me you are joking? We’re talking damn near one mile cross country and how am I going to cross the river? It’s gonna be awhile. Tell them to be cool. Don’t do anything until I get there.” Ken Messer hung up the phone swearing loudly.
Chapter 14
Tom grabbed me as I walked up to them. “Thank God you’re back. These assholes say we’re trespassing on the military reservation. They’re pointing guns at us and want us to stay put until somebody else gets here. We’ve told them that’s a crock and that we’re leaving, but......”
The two young men in camouflage uniforms seemed quite sure of themselves despite the fact that at least 75 yards of fast moving water separated us.
“Let’s just get out of here,” I said to Tom. “They wouldn’t shoot us, would they?”
He shrugged and whispered to Sam and Ralph. The men on the other shore kept on yelling at us to sit down and remain seated, that someone was coming and after our clearance had been confirmed we would be allowed to continue.
Ralph shouted back. “We’re not on the military reservation, assholes! We’re not trespassing! We’re leaving, okay, there’s no trouble.”
They yelled back, but I couldn’t make it out. And so we moved Marty into Sam’s canoe and climbed into the other canoes. Tom yelled at the two men in uniform again.
“Fellas, we’re leaving. Just be cool. This is just a big misunderstanding. No need for anyone to get hurt.”
“You ain’t leaving, asshole. You were told to sit down, now - sit down.”
The taller of the men raised his rifle.
“They wouldn’t, would they?” I whispered into Tom’s ear.
“I wouldn’t count on any anger control over there, babe. The faster we’re outta here the better.”
They were shouting obscenities as we pushed off. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw movement in Ralph and Sandy’s canoe. Turning slightly I watched in horror as Sandy raised her right arm, extending her right middle finger in a classic gesture. This was answered by several shots and loud swearing from Ralph.
I couldn’t turn around and look, we were back in fast water and I had to concentrate on what I was doing. We paddled furiously and yet careful, but we still bumped into obstacle after obstacle. There were just too many.
I expected to get shot from behind at any moment and wondered what that would feel like. Would there be a lot of pain? I wanted to tell Tom that I love him but didn’t dare turn around and if I said it out loud it would be doubtful that he would hear it. But I said it anyway, thinking that it would be better to die knowing that I said it then not. I paddled furiously, convinced that I was paddling for our lives.
Ever so often I would hear Tom say something encouraging or urging me to ease off. Still, we hit obstacles and came close to tipping over many times.
I know, I will never forget this river.
Finally we were through, and I was grateful when Tom steered us toward the shore. We found a small strip of sand underneath a couple of large trees and beached the canoe and just sat there for a moment. That’s when my tears came. I always cry when I am under stress or very angry. It doesn’t really solve anything, but seems to put me back on track once the tears stop.
“Tom,” I finally said. “What on earth is happening? This was supposed to be such a smooth little trip and then Marty gets sick, we get shot at. This is a nightmare! Forgive me, but I think it will be awhile before I do this again.”
He nodded. “I don’t know what to say, babe. I certainly didn’t expect that. None of us even thought of running into trouble, but I think we are in big trouble. As soon as the others get here, we need to sit down and figure out how we will get the hell off this rotten, miserable excuse of a river.
“Back there,” he pointed upriver, “back there I had a chance to look at the map and we still have at least 6 hours of river ahead of us. This baby winds mercilessly. We are only a couple of miles from the road and only a couple of miles from the cars, but on the river its an eternity. I don’t know what Sam was thinking, but I believe he miscalculated the distance. I think we need to leave everything here and walk out, it will be faster.”
“What about Marty?”
“I haven’t forgotten about that. Marty is pretty little, between Sam and Ralph and me we should be able to carry her.”
I sat in silence. I was not convinced that this was such a hot plan. There was this nagging pain in my gut and I just couldn’t believe that all would be well now, just like that.
The first one to arrive was Sam. He beached next to us, I watched him as he bend over the canoe and adjusted the sleeping bag with Marty. His face looked old and drawn, and I felt sorry for him. This trip had been his idea and I’m sure he had to talk Marty into coming. He had probably assured her that it would be a nice trip, change of wallpaper; you can just relax and let me take care of everything. I could almost hear him. And then look what happened.
He walked over to us and sat down. He was pale and there were traces of tears in the dirt on his stubbled cheeks.
“Marty is dead,” he said quietly.
The three of us sat there, stunned. The sounds of the river getting louder and louder.
“No, no, no, no, no. This isn’t happening!” I jumped up and ran over to his canoe.
She was all bundled into the sleeping bag, her face was a yellowish pale, full of wrinkles, looking like an old dried out leather glove, but she seemed peaceful. I unzipped the bag and felt for a pulse. There was none, there was no breathing, there was nothing. I turned and stared in disbelief at Sam.
“Come on guys, we need to do something. We can’t just leave her like this.”
But Sam just stood up, came over and hugged me.
“No,” he said firmly. “We will not do anything. This has been the most horrible 24 hours of my life. I’ve lost the person I’ve loved all my adult life and I don’t know why or even how. But she’s gone now and I fear that if we’re not real careful, we won’t make it home either. We can’t let that happen, we have kids to think of. I don’t know what we have gotten into or what we are up against. Something is obviously not quite right. I just don’t understand it and I am not so sure that I even want to. I’m having a real hard time clinging to sanity at this moment, but I have to; and I would like for you to respect my decision. There is nothing we can do for Marty now, it’s not even my Marty anymore.”
Tears streamed down his cheeks, leaving more traces in the dirt on his face. And so we stood there, holding each other. I felt terrible when I thought back to those thoughts I had had about Marty just 24 hours ago.
Chapter 15
“Jeff? Ken here. I found the patrol. This is the biggest mess I’ve ever seen. These idiots took potshots at the civilians! And wouldn’t you know it, they hit one. We not only have civilians on the river, we have shot civilians on the river. This is getting way too big for me. Get ahold of Jonathon, see if he’ll give the ok to pull out of here ASAP.”
“Shit! What the hell is wrong with those people? I told them to hang on to the civilians until you got there. I didn’t tell them to fucking shoot them. How fast can you be out of there? Ken? Ken?” All he had on the sat phone was static. Shit!
He swore loudly. Trying to decide if he should call Jonathon Brook
s now or try to get Ken Messer back. He decided to try Ken first, but could not reach him. Reluctantly he dialed the private number to his boss. It was answered after the first ring.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Brooks?”
“I’m the only person that will answer this phone, you may call me Jonathon. What’s up Jeffrey?”
“Jonathon, I have bad news. We have civilians in the area. Messer is out with the perimeter patrol that spotted them. When they tried to detain them they exchanged shots and they believe that at least one of the civilians was shot. Messer wants to pull up stakes and clear out now while we can still control the damage, I tend to agree with him. We want your authorization.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Absolutely not. Find those damn civilians, find out who they are, what do they know. Use your head! What the hell were they doing on that damn river on a Sunday anyway! Nobody in their right mind spends a Sunday on some rotten, little river. You are in bible country, Jeffrey! People there go to church on Sunday to atone for Saturday’s sins! Your soldiers probably saw animals and were so hung over they thought they were people. We will not just up and walk away with our tails between our legs, don’t be ridiculous! Find out if these civilians really exist, and then find those civilians! Find out if anyone actually got shot, find out what they know. We don’t run at the first hint of trouble, we deal with it, Jeffrey my boy. If need be we buy them. Everybody has his price. Spend any amount of money, do whatever you have to do, just so they keep their mouths shut. You’ll be surprised what money can do. Do you think you can handle that or do I have to come?”
“I can handle it.”
“Keep me posted.” And the line went dead.
Jeff Craft sat there for a moment in silence staring at the dead sat phone in his hand. Then he pulled out a thick, overflowing day planner and dialed a number. A female voice answered.
“Good Morning. “he said and tried to sound cheerful. “Is Colonel Stevens available? Jeffrey Craft with SERPAC calling.”
“One moment please.”
“Colonel Stevens? I’m very sorry to bother you on such a nice Sunday, Sir. I was wondering if I might ask a favor?”
A very deep, very obviously male voice responded, “No trouble at all. Go ahead, what can I do for you?”
“Sir, as you know, this is the weekend we are trying out our AMAG system. Well, one of the perimeter patrols spotted civilians in the test area. When they tried to detain them, shots were fired and we have reason to believe that at least one of the civilians was shot. We need to find them. Can you help us?”
“Let me see if I got that straight. One of the base perimeter patrols has shot civilian trespassers?”
“Well, not really trespassers, Sir. They were on the river, not really on the base. The patrol was on the civilian side. The boys were trying to keep the civilians there until one of our men could get there to question them. We wanted to know why they were in the area. When they disregarded the patrol and left, shots were fired, apparently the civilians were hit.”
“The Perimeter Patrol was off base? On whose authorization did they patrol off base, and who OK’d live ammo?”
“Sir, my boss, Jonathon Brooks made the arrangements with your office to utilize this remote section of the base. He was told, the reservists training this weekend would be assigned to guard duty. Major Pendergast signed off on it, Sir.”
“Major Pendergast is not authorized to make this kind of decision. We need to find those civilians, ASAP. I’ll have one of the pilots call you back and arrange a pick up.”
Jeff exhaled deeply. Yes! It’s always better to go right to the top. Screw the middleman! Maybe this was still salvageable. There’s still hope.
Eight miles away, Col. Stevens dialed. “Pendergast? I need to talk to you. You might want to take this call someplace private.”
After a few moments he continued. “Did you authorize one of the perimeter patrols to go off base and carry live ammo?”
There was a moment of silence.
“Well, what I said may have been interpreted in that manner, Sir. May I ask why you are asking?”
“You moron. This is drill weekend for the reservists, the perimeter patrol is a bunch of reservists. You send a bunch of reservists out with loaded M-16’s. They’re out there playing cowboys and indians, only this game is for keeps. You never, never, never authorize reservists to carry live ammo, let someone with a lot more rank then you’ll ever see make that decision. And you most certainly do not authorize a patrol with live ammo off base. There are not enough stars and stripes for that authorization. Do you understand me?”
“Well, this civilian contractor, SERPAC, they contacted me, let me know that they were very concerned about industrial espionage. You knew that they were testing this top secret system this weekend, you OK’d the use of down range for their testing. It just made perfect sense. They’re worried about espionage and the reservists could use a little live ammo training.”
“How much did they pay you?”
“Me? Sir, I’m just doing my job!”
“ And pigs fly! Pendergast, I want you in my office in 30 minutes. Be prepared to go downrange.”
The line went dead.
Chapter 16
I don't know how long we sat there. When I saw Ralph and Sandy slowly coming downriver, I got up and started moving what was left of our stuff away from the bank and under some bushes. Their canoe was low in the water and moving sluggishly, and I was surprised to see Sandy paddling by herself. I hoped that Ralph had finally put his foot down and had found a punishment that fit. After all, it was her stupidity that had gotten us into this mess, and it would do her good to paddle alone.
I waved at Sandy to get her attention. “Come and be useful for a change.” I yelled, not even trying to hide my disgust with her. The look on her face told me, she had picked up on my anger as well, but was too exhausted to respond. It didn't matter anymore, and I really didn't need to worry. Sensitivity is not one of Sandy's assets.
As soon as she beached the canoe, she yelled, “They shot at us.”
“Yeah, not surprising after you flipped them off. Why did you do a dumb thing like that?”
She shrugged. “I don't know. I suppose they just pissed me off or something like that.”
“How did you expect them to answer - by kissing your ass?”
But Sandy never thinks about the results of her actions, but just goes full speed ahead. Then, just as I started to turn away, I saw that Ralph was signaling me to come closer. I remember thinking, “Strange, why is he still sitting in the canoe?” Usually he just bounds out and tries to do too many things at once. I walked over to where he was sitting. He had his T shirt off and draped across his lap. As I stood and looked, he removed the shirt and, to my horror, I saw that his left thigh was bloody, with more blood smeared over his left calf and foot. His face looked pale and, although he tried to hide it, he grimaced instead of smiling when our eyes met.
“What the hell happened to you?” I asked.
He put his left index finger over his lips and I nodded. Okay, I'll be quiet.
In a low voice he said, “I got shot. Can you believe that shit?” He grimaced. “I don't think it's as bad as it looks, but it hurts. Could you please look at my leg? Maybe we can patch it up, just enough for us to get out of here.”
We wrapped the T-shirt over his leg and I helped him out of the canoe. He was barely able to put weight on his left leg and was moaning. With every move we made, more big beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. I found a fairly level spot on the sand and gravel and helped him slowly down.
Sandy had not even turned around, but was talking nonstop. “Can you believe those fucking assholes back there. Who do they think they are? We were nowhere near the reservation. I know; I checked the map. Taking fucking potshots at us! When we get back I will get hold of my congressman. My taxdollars at work, my ass. You just wait. I kid you not.”
Finally Ralph t
ook a deep breath and said in a surprisingly firm voice, “Sandy, just shut up.”
She slowly turned. “Don't talk to me that way. You have no right to talk to me that way. It was your stupid idea to come on this stupid trip. It's your stupid friend that set up this stupid trip, and now look what has become of it? I never wanted to come in the first place. I told you that, but did you listen? No. You had to agree to go and made me come as well.” She had finally fully turned and stood, mouth open looking at her husband laying on the sand, a very bloody T-shirt wrapped around a very bloody thigh.
“And now you got yourself hurt, and you're messing up your clothes, and when I wash them, that shit will never come out again and then, you'll probably blame me for that too.”
She glared at him. Under more normal circumstances, that may have worked, but our circumstances were no longer normal. Ralph just closed his eyes.
