Santa Rosa is located in Guadalupe County, New Mexico. Population at one time was just over 2,000. At the time it was mostly a Hispanic populated city, strongly oriented in Catholicism. The city is just west of the Llano Estacado, in eastern New Mexico. The first European settlement here was in 1865. It was named Aqua Negra Chiquita or Little Black Water. The name was changed in 1890 to Santa Rosa which means Holy Rose.
While the convoy was being concealed off the road, in the bush, our sniper team, Baldwin, Pete, Maggie, and I had a brief meeting reviewing the satellite map. Route 54, which was named Parker Avenue within the city limits, took a dog leg to the southwest which provided a half mile of straight road leading to the bridge.
Maggie and I would find the tallest building and position ourselves on the roof. Baldwin and Pete would proceed to the bridge within 200 yards, and start to eliminate targets using silenced M4’s.
We found an eight story warehouse located on the north side of Parker Avenue at 5th Street. All of us cleared the perimeter of the building. Maggie and I entered the building with ease since the doors were not locked. We carefully checked the empty building. Satisfied that no one was there, we locked the doors from the inside and proceeded to the roof.
The roof was flat, making it a perfect shooting platform. I popped down the Harris Bipod legs and set-up the Cobb fifty on the edge of the roof, facing the bridge. Maggie guarded the stairs and patrolled around the roof, watching for any bogies.
Looking through my low-light scope, I could see the bridge which had four trucks blocking the four lanes which crossed the bridge. I zeroed in on the people and counted four men. One did have an RPG and the others carried rifles of some type.
I spotted Baldwin and Pete moving towards the bridge. Baldwin was on the north side, and Pete was on the south side of Parker Avenue. This would allow them to create crossfire.
I radioed Baldwin and Pete. “Four bogies are on the bridge, right near the trucks. One man has an RPG. Over.”
“What are they doing?”
“They’re just sitting there talking and not paying any attention to Parker Avenue. Over.”
“Roger that. Keep us informed of any movement. Over and out,” Baldwin replied.
I kept my eye glued to the scope watching these guys, while also scanning the entire area for any other terrorists. I checked out each building on both sides of the street. I didn’t see any other radicals. Checking the time, it was almost 5 am, which meant the sun would be coming up in an hour.
Captain Baldwin had better make his move soon, before the break of dawn. We had driven all night and needed some rest. Lying there, I almost dozed off. Maggie woke me out of my daze as she kicked my foot.
“I wish they’d hurry it up.”
“Yeah, me too,” I told her.
“How far is it to their trucks?”
“The range finder shows 600 yards.”
“That’s an easy shot for you, Jack.”
“Maggie, you got good eyes so do me a favor, look through this scope. Tell me if you see four or five men by the trucks.” I needed to give my eyes a rest for a minute because I thought I saw another man.
“Sure.” I stood up and Maggie laid down to scan the area with my rifle. “I see four men by the trucks.”
I lit up a smoke to take the edge off my nerves and stretched my legs. I dowsed my bandanna with some water and wiped my face off, trying to wake up.
Standing on the edge of the roof, I glanced down the street at the bridge and thought I saw movement near some trees. “Maggie, you see anyone moving down there?” Before she could answer, a bullet zipped by my head. I heard the zing loud and clear. It was too close for comfort. I dropped flat to the roof top. “Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t hear any gun fire,” Maggie said.
“Shit, there’s a sniper out there. Maybe he also spotted Pete and Baldwin.” I grabbed the radio. “Guys, we have a sniper out there taking pot-shots at us.”
“Where’s he at, Jack?” Baldwin asked.
Just then another round impacted into the side of the building at the edge of the roof, near my head. I scooted back a foot. “Maggie, did you see where that came from?”
“Negative.”
I got on the radio. “Guys, he just took another shot at us.”
“Where is he?” Baldwin asked.
“I guess he’s somewhere near the trees on the north side of the street.”
“Roger that,” Baldwin replied. “We’ll find him. Over.”
“Jack, what the hell we gonna do?” Maggie asked.
“I got an idea but it’s risky. One of us has to be bait for him to shoot at.”
“Bait! Are you nuts?”
“No, hear me out, I’ll be the bait. We can’t see or hear him because he’s got a silencer. But using the M4 FLIR scope maybe we can detect his heat signature or that of his gun.”
“What are you gonna do, stand up and let him shoot at you?”
“Basically, yes. He has to make a mistake. We have to have him heat up his barrel or show us some body heat.”
I glanced at the other buildings and thought this was the tallest one in the area. He had to be within 500 yards, knowing the types of weapons they use. But maybe he had a .308 or 30.06, and a good old American quality rifle. In any case, wondered how I was going to be the bait without getting killed. More than likely he had a FLIR scope that detected heat or an old-style night scope that used the ambient light of the moon. If he had an old-style night scope I had a chance.
The sniper must’ve been located somewhere lower than we were, otherwise he’d be shooting at us now. I had to conclude that he couldn’t see the top of our roof. That’s why he only fired when I stood up near the edge of the roof. I thought, maybe if I move back ten or twenty paces from the edge and stand up he won’t be able to see me. Then that could give me some idea how far away he is by using some simple trigonometry by line of sight.
Maggie asked, “I wonder why he doesn’t have his buddies come after us?”
“He doesn’t know who we are or that we have weapons. More than likely he thinks we’re just some people roaming around looking for food. We’re just infidels he wants to kill.”
“Well, what’s the plan, Jack?”
“I’m gonna back up from the edge of the roof about twenty steps and then stand up. If he sees me, he’ll shoot. You use the FLIR on your M4 and see if you can detect him. You’re looking for a small heat signature, or a bright sudden flash.”
“If I see him, should I shoot?”
“Negative. We’ll radio Baldwin and let him do the kill.”
I crawled back across the roof until I was about twenty paces away. Then I radioed Baldwin, advising what I was doing. We set a time that in two minutes I would stand up.
“Maggie, are you ready?”
“Yep.”
I started a countdown out loud from ten seconds. On one, I slowly stood up and quickly ducked down. I didn’t hear the whine or whizz of a bullet going by. That meant he must be closer to us, so I moved forward toward the roof’s edge by ten steps.
Baldwin came on the radio. “Jack, we didn’t see a thing.”
“He didn’t fire so I’m moving closer to the edge of the roof by ten steps. Count down, one minute.” I also moved about ten feet to the right, so if he did have a fix on me he would have to sight in again.
The minute went by fast, and I stood up once again just for three seconds. As I was ducking down I felt something hit my head. My hat flew off and I picked it up. To my surprise there was a bullet hole in the top. Half of an inch lower and I would have been dead meat. I felt the warm trickle of blood running down my face. The bullet had grazed the top of my head. I wiped the blood off and felt the wound with my finger. It was a very small graze that started to burn. After pouring a little water on it I put my hat back on.
Maggie shouted, “I spotted him.”
As I crawled back next to Maggie I said, “Good, paint him with
the laser.”
She looked at me, touching my face. “You’re bleeding. Are you ok?”
“Yeah, it’s just a slight graze.”
Clicking the radio, I advised, “Baldwin, Maggie has him painted. Do you see the laser?”
“Roger that, he’s ours now.”
Picking up the fifty, I looked at the laser spot through my scope. The sniper was in a tree 300 yards away, close to Baldwin’s location, on the north side of the street. I could see Baldwin moving in for the kill. I could make out the shooters arm and rifle. He was taking aim again, directly at us.
I glanced over at Maggie and she had her torso showing. He was going to kill her for sure. I leaned over and shoved her to the ground just as the bullet zipped overhead.
“Stay the hell down, Maggie, and keep him painted.”
I had a fix on this jerk and wanted to put a big fifty caliber round into his body, blowing it apart. The problem was, if I fired my big cannon, his buddies on the bridge would be alerted and come running to his aid.
I peered once again into my scope and saw he was now aiming at Baldwin. I had no choice but to fire. I grabbed the radio. “Baldwin, look out, he’s got your number!” Baldwin quickly rolled to one side, but he had no cover.
Flicking my safety off, I took aim and squeezed the trigger. KABOOM! One shot, one kill. I scanned over to the bridge and sure enough, the four men on the bridge were running this way. I had to warn Pete and Baldwin. “Four bogies from the bridge are coming your way! The sniper is dead.”
Pete replied, “I see them.” He started to fire.
I told Maggie, “Now you can shoot them.”
“Hot dog! I finally get to kill one of these jerks,” Maggie replied with glee.
It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Pete and George had them in a cross fire as the ISIS men dressed in black came running to their death. Maggie was firing her M4 at them, but I couldn’t tell if she hit one or not.
The action happened so quickly I didn’t have a chance to zero in on another target. All the bogies were dead. They didn’t even get off a shot at us. I heard Captain Baldwin radio the convoy to move up to the bridge. In the meantime, Maggie and I came down off the roof.
Baldwin, Pete, and I checked the bodies and vehicles. We put another bullet in their heads, just to make sure they didn’t return to life, like the walking dead. Pete collected the weapons, including an RPG with a dozen rockets, and piled them on the side of the street. Maggie stood guard just in case another raghead popped up out of nowhere.
Thirty minutes later, the convoy showed up. We moved the ISIS trucks out of the way and disabled them by tearing out the spark plug wires, stabbing the tires, and throwing the keys into the Pecos River.
After loading up the confiscated weapons, we proceeded across the Pecos River Bridge on State Route 54. A bright yellow sun was just breaking the horizon. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, which meant it was going to be a hot day.
JESSIE ROSEBUD
May 23, 2026
We would follow Route 54 south to State Route 60 and head due west to I-25. After reviewing the map, I only counted four small cities between Santa Rosa and the Interstate.
According to our map, the largest city on Route 60 was Mountainair, located 90 miles from Santa Rosa in Torrance County. Population of this little city was about 1,000 people in 2010. It’s located at an altitude of 6,495 feet in the Pedernal Hills area.
The route soon proved not to be so good, with steep hills and a winding narrow highway. It was a two lane country road that hadn’t been maintained in years. From the appearance, it seemed that it hadn’t been traveled either. We passed through two deserted small towns, and didn’t see a soul for the next 90 miles until we reached Mountainair, two hours later.
At the city limit sign there was a roadblock made up of two pickup trucks. Eight men dressed like cowboys flagged us down. We rolled to a stop about a hundred feet from their vehicles. Baldwin and I dismounted and approached them with our M4’s slung on our chests, holding our hands slightly raised.
We were within twenty feet when one of the guards said, “That’s close enough boys.” They all pointed their weapons at us.
We stopped and I said, “Gentlemen, good morning.”
The guard replied, “Morning. What do you boys want?”
“We’re just passing through, on our way to Arizona.”
“Why are you using this route?”
“Because we heard I-40 is blocked going into Albuquerque by ISIS.”
He nodded his head. “Yeah, we know that. We had to fight them a couple of times. Are y’all in the Army?”
“We’re on a mission for the Army.” I reached into my pocket to show him the letter written by Army Ranger, Captain Sessions. I held it up. “Here, read this letter.”
The man stepped forward and took it from my hand. After reading it he asked, “How long you gonna be in Mountainair?”
“Well, we need somewhere to rest for a while, and if possible, get some grub and fuel. We’ve been driving all night. But if you don’t want us to stick around, we’ll just pass through. We don’t want any trouble.”
He peered straight into my eyes to see if I was telling the truth, and then at Baldwin. He glanced at the armored Hummer. “How many trucks and men you got?”
“We have thirty men, two dogs, and nine trucks.”
The rough looking cowboy stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Jessie Rosebud, Sheriff of this county. You’re welcome to visit Mountainair for a while.”
I firmly gripped his hand and shook it. “Thanks, Sheriff. I’m Jack Gunn and this is Captain Baldwin.” They nodded to each other.
Jessie had to be about fifty years old, and judging by his beer belly was a little over weight. Maybe he ate too many donuts. He was a little shorter than Baldwin and I. He spoke like a straight shooter and carried himself with confidence. Jessie wore a white neatly-pressed shirt, blue jeans, a white hat, and of course, cowboy boots. He carried an AR-15 and a cowboy-type holster on his hip with a black handled revolver. The pistol appeared to be a Colt Anaconda.
Jessie replied, “Jack, just a friendly warning, if you’re up to no good, you’ll be the first one I kill.” Then he let out a chuckle. “Follow me into town.”
“You got nothing to worry about, Sheriff,” I told him.
Highway 60 runs right through the center of the city. Upon first entering the old town I was surprised to see a lot of people milling around on the streets. The city itself was a quaint looking place. We slowly followed the Sheriff, at 10 mph, into the heart of downtown, passing the Tomahawk Service Station, the old Greyhound Bus Station, finally coming to a stop near the Shaffer Hotel, down the street from the Rosebud Saloon.
Baldwin had his men line the trucks up in a neat row, bumper to bumper. Pete and Jeff posted guards at both ends of the convoy and in the middle. Jessie commented to Baldwin, “Captain, you don’t need any guards here. No one will steal anything in Mountainair.”
“I know, but its protocol for my men. We do it out of habit.”
Everyone dismounted but stayed with their vehicles, awaiting further instructions. Adam and Maggie were standing next to our truck with the dogs, which needed to go for a walk.
Jessie said, “There are two places to eat, the Rosebud Saloon, and the Shaffer Hotel. Either one is good but the Rosebud has home-made beer.”
I asked, “Do you own the Rosebud?”
“No, my brother Jimmy does and he’s the Mayor. My family owns most of the town and property around here.”
By now a crowd of people had gathered across the street. They were closely observing our combat Humvees. Baldwin looked at Jessie with a concerned expression. “Sheriff, do we have anything to worry about?”
“No, don’t mind them, they just don’t see many strangers. Let’s get a beer.”
Baldwin and I put our M4’s into the truck and followed him into the Rosebud Saloon while our men stayed by their vehicles. We both wore Glock 9mm guns and ke
pt them with us. Of course, I had my Black Bear Bowie fighting knife strapped to my tactical vest.
The saloon was a quaint old place, and judging by the looks, it hadn’t been remodeled since it was built. The bar looked like something out of a John Wayne western movie. Yeah, it was old alright. It reeked with the odor of beer and whiskey. The tables, chairs, and bar stools were made of wood that showed a lot of wear.
Another man behind the bar, who looked just like Jessie, walked over. Jessie said, “This is my twin brother Jimmy. He runs this bar and he’s the Mayor.”
Jimmy and Jessie were dressed exactly alike, except for their guns. Jimmy had a shoulder holster under his left armpit which carried some type of semi-auto handgun.
We all shook hands. Jimmy said, “Have a seat. I gotta talk to my brother for a minute.” They walked away through a swinging door into another room, which appeared to be the kitchen.
A short while later, another man came out of the kitchen with a young lady who had a beer in each hand. “Hello,” she said. “My name is Maria. This is Carlos,” as she placed the beers in front of us, on the table.
Baldwin and I said hello and Maria put her hand on my shoulder. She was dressed in a short black mini-skirt, red high heels, and a red low-cut blouse, which revealed her ample sized breasts. Maria was a shapely young woman whom I guessed was in her late twenties. She was pretty alright, with long black hair and an exotic face with full red lips. She smoothly swayed around like smoke blowing in the air.
Maria said, “If you gentlemen need anything, just let me know.”
“Ok, we’ll do that,” I replied.
Maria squeezed my shoulder a little. I looked up at her and she winked. “If you see something you like … let me know,” as she winked again.
Baldwin replied, “We get the idea honey. We don’t need anything right now.”
Carlos, an older man, probably about fifty, smiled and said, “Si señor, we understand. Maria let’s go back to the kitchen and leave them alone while they have a drink.”
Templars Quest Trilogy: The Lost Ark (Books 1-3 The Templars Quest Chronicles) Page 16
