The inside red light turned off, plunging the group into darkness. The touchdown was soft enough that they didn’t realize they’d landed until the rear started opening. Terry kissed Char quickly, then ran out the back with Gene by his side.
Char went next with Eldie and Jim, disappearing into the darkness. Last off the pod was Sergeant James, Charlie, Bennie, and Max. They didn’t have far to go so they moved cautiously, taking care not to make any noise, while wondering what their footprints would look like in the soft dirt.
***
North Chicago
“Mark!” Billy yelled as he approached the barracks.
The lieutenant stuck his head out a window. “You called?” he asked with a smile. Billy didn’t bother going inside.
“The fishing crew saw another boat out on the lake today, powered, and it drove away when they sailed toward it,” Billy spit out quickly, then waited impatiently while Mark processed the information.
“Damn,” Mark finally said, poking fingers in the air to count off his recommended actions. “We’ll start a lake watch and let’s put Adams or Merrit on the fishing boat, because they can sense things.”
Mark didn’t know how much Billy knew, and he wasn’t too sure himself, but he thought that was what Terry would have done to give them an advantage.
Billy looked around to make sure no one was near since he didn’t want to get the town’s people excited, just in case it wasn’t a big deal. “That makes sense, and what did you have in mind for the watch?”
“Ivan. He’s probably wide awake right now, wondering what to do with himself for the rest of the night,” Mark replied, looking confidently into Billy’s eyes. “I’ll go with him and we’ll get this set up, then I’ll handle the rotation to make sure we keep someone there to sound the alarm just in case. You’ll let Adams and Merrit know to join the fishing boat?”
“I’ll take care of them. Get someone on the shore ASAP! This is information from yesterday. Anne forgot to tell me, if you can believe that.” Billy was still shaking his head in disbelief.
“Will do, boss. You can count on the FDG.” Mark saluted and closed his window. He ran from his room in search of Ivan.
Billy hesitated, admiring the man that Mark had become, certain that the Force de Guerre would protect them.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Queens, New York
Terry crouched by a rusted hulk of a long-dead vehicle before slowly moving behind the next. His target was a building that was half-rubble directly across from the brownstone where the Forsaken had lived before Akio ended his existence.
Terry determined that the rubble across the street would be the best way to observe the buildings that had been used to house large numbers of people, and of course, their comings and goings.
In the stealth business, speed played a role, but sometimes patience and deliberate movement were better options. Terry moved slowly when in the open, to be a living shadow that didn’t attract the eye. Quick movements were easily observed, should anyone be looking. And then there were times where sitting still, even when not in position, was the best course of action.
Gene didn’t like either of those. He preferred to walk in and ask them how they were doing, but that went against Terry’s goal of remaining unseen, of not having the New Yorkers ever know they were there.
Terry waited while Gene caught up. He had to pull the large man down beside him. “Would you make an effort, for Pete’s sake?” Terry whispered harshly.
“No one watching. We are fine,” Gene said in a low voice, which sounded to Terry like it echoed from all the buildings.
Terry took two deep breaths while Gene waited.
“What do you sense?” Terry asked.
“Nothing. People doing what people do. If you expected civil war, there is no civil war.” Gene looked like he wanted to go home.
“Blackie will take good care of Bogdan,” Terry whispered.
“He is like son to me, an untrainable ruffian, just like I used to be,” Gene said sadly.
“Soon enough, we’ll be on our way back home. Then we’ll be going to China. We’ll take Bogdan with us on that trip,” Terry promised.
Gene slapped Terry on the back, slamming him into the car with a heavy thud. They both froze as Gene whispered, “Sorry, little man.”
***
Char led her group down the back alley behind the main houses. She wasn’t going as far as the brownstone, but her challenge was in finding a location to establish an OP, because they hadn’t been certain which buildings were occupied. She used her senses to discover that every one of them had people. Some bedrooms contained complete families, and others, just couples.
She looked at fire escapes to possibly get to the roof, but they couldn’t find anything. “I guess the roof is out,” she whispered to her tactical team.
Noise told them that a group of people approached. Char, Eldie, and Jim dodged into a bushy area beside the alley and willed themselves to disappear into the darkness.
The four youngsters were drunk and staggered their way past. Char remained motionless until they entered a building behind the main road.
The basement. People look up at the sky, but no one looks down, she reasoned.
Char tapped the other two as she stood and headed in the direction that the youngsters had gone. They found the building and slipped into the well around the basement windows. The glass was gone and she crawled inside.
Eldie followed without making a sound, but Jim was a much bigger man and bumped the window with one of his grenades. He recoiled at the sound and bounced his weapon off the other side of the frame.
He froze while Char held a finger to her lips. She listened intently as the drunks argued with people upstairs. Char pulled Jim the rest of the way inside. They each took a position by a window and waited.
***
Sergeant James had no way of knowing if anyone was in the building they’d chosen unless they took a look.
They snuck up on the building and surrounded it. Then James went inside while the others waited.
He went quietly from room to room, listening and waiting. Judging from the smell, the place was being used as an outhouse.
On closer inspection, there were numerous holes cut in the floor. There was debris on the stairs blocking the way up, preventing access to the upper floor.
James counted on the fire escape outside.
He climbed out the first floor window onto the landing and ascended the rusted steps. They squealed and creaked. He continued slowly and then entered the upper floor.
James hadn’t been the first to use that approach. The window frame was well worn from bodies sliding across it. Once inside, he listened and heard the sound of a rodent, probably a rat. He stomped on the floor and sent it scurrying away. He climbed back outside and descended the steps, trying to make less noise as he stayed closer to the supports.
He circled the house and collected the others, returning through the stench of the first floor, out the window, up the rusted stair, and into the upstairs. They each kneeled at a different window and settled in to watch and wait.
***
North Chicago
Ivan sat on a rock on the lakeshore located at the north end of the base. Mark stood nearby. The gentle lapping of the waves and the calm were overwhelming.
“I don’t know how you do it, Ivan,” Mark started, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “I’m falling asleep standing here.”
“There’s so much to think about, Mark. Here we are in Chicago on the great Lake Michigan. Look where we were just a few years ago,” Ivan said, watching the moonbeams sparkle across the ripples.
“We were a bunch of thugs, and you were fat.” Mark chuckled and yawned again. He stretched and thought about the walk back to the barracks.
“I was. My nose still hurts sometimes. I think it didn’t heal right,” Ivan lamented. “I know that they still call me Smashface behind my back. It’s okay. I deserved it. I tried to intimidate Colon
el Walton with a rusty old shotgun. The thought of it makes me cringe. I don’t remember how he took it away from me or anything. All of a sudden, my face was smashed in and I was blowing blood bubbles.”
They both laughed out loud. Ivan continued, “Had I known then what I know now, I would have handed him the weapon and held the door open.”
“It’s been a good fucking ride, man,” Mark said, smiling. “Do you understand that our job is to save the world? Us. A bunch of fucking nobodies. But Terry Henry gave us a name, gave us a purpose, and I think the best part is that he gave us honor. I never used to know what that meant.”
“Me either, Mark. Go get some shut-eye. Send someone with breakfast as soon as they have it ready,” Ivan asked.
Mark gave him the thumbs up, vowing to get it himself and return before daylight.
“One last thing,” Ivan interrupted as Mark was walking away. “What do I do if I see something?”
“Isn’t that the question of the day?” Mark replied over his shoulder. “Run to the barracks as quick as you can and we’ll bring the platoon and a shit-pot of firepower, just in case they don’t want to talk.”
***
Queens, New York
The night passed uneventfully. Terry had taken cat naps, waking up every time Gene started snoring. Terry had reduced his Gene-rumble reaction time so that his foot impacted Gene’s ribs before the first snore was finished.
As the sun hinted at coming over the horizon, people started to stir. Terry shook Gene awake. The Werebear staggered to the back of their half-house and peed a stream that sounded like a river crashing against the rocks.
“Holy fuck, could you make any more noise!” Terry whispered harshly. He looked out, afraid that someone had heard, but there was nothing.
“You should have called your friend Akio last night when we discovered no war and no problems. We would be in our own homes right now,” Gene replied.
“These people still hate us!” Terry exclaimed.
“They hate you, maybe. I’m just big teddy bear.” Gene sat down, then hiked a cheek and farted.
“Oh, God,” Terry cried as his eyes started to water. He covered his face with his shirt and got as close to the window as he dared. “You do that again and I will kill you.”
“Smell like mint juleps. I never thought you were big baby, but you are bigger baby than Bogdan,” Gene said in a low voice that was still far too loud.
“Stop making noise so we can hear what they’re saying,” Terry ordered.
The first people who appeared in the street weren’t talking. When the sun appeared and bathed the houses in light, more and more people made their way out of the buildings. Nearly all of the mass of humanity headed in the direction of the fields. Some walked the other way and disappeared around the corner. A couple sat in the windows and watched.
Terry noted that some people carried weapons, but not many. He wondered if there was a threat or if they carried them out of habit. Those with rifles slung over their backs were mixed in with the rest. They weren’t using their weapons to intimidate the others.
Terry watched while Gene stayed quiet, leaning back against the wall. He fell asleep with his chin resting on his chest and slumbered peacefully while Terry hoped he stayed that way for the remainder of the day.
***
The noise in the house told Char that the occupants were awake and none too pleased with being roused. Jim and Eldie cradled their weapons, rolling their thumbs back and forth on the selector switches while keeping their fingers off the triggers.
Char reached out and sensed the anarchy of a house full of people. They coughed and hacked, they argued, then they stumbled out the door. Char had taken the window at the front of the house and watched the young people walk into the street and head for the fields.
Eldie noted a couple went out the back and strolled down the alley in a direction opposite the others.
Jim couldn’t see anything from his window, so he tiptoed across the basement and stood next to Char.
It wasn’t just the people from their house. A whole parade was heading down the street toward the fields.
“How could they be that organized? It’s like something out of an old Star Trek episode,” Char whispered, wondering what drove this group.
Eldie looked like he was about to sneak upstairs when they heard the floor creak. Char drew a line across her throat. One person remained in the house. Eldie tiptoed back to his position by the window.
Char felt one person in each of the houses. It didn’t tell her anything except that her team couldn’t move. She wondered how the others were making out.
***
James gagged for the second time, but held it back. The smell was overwhelming. The entire populace of the community streamed to the building and let loose with the worst they had.
Bennie had already puked once, but had done it quietly. Max seemed indifferent to it, which made James wonder if the man had lost his sense of smell. Max pulled out a strip of jerky and started gnawing on it. Bennie gagged and then wretched for the second time.
Charlie was breathing through is shirt and studiously avoiding looking at the others. He was close to an open window and getting as much fresh air as he could.
Finally, the crowd lessened, the line worked its way to the end, and no one new joined in. The last ones finished their business and ran outside, taking a hard turn around the corner and out of sight.
That side of the house was without windows. James couldn’t see where the people had ended up, and that caused him a great deal of grief. “Watch my back. I’m going to take a look,” he told Max. The older man nodded and looked down the road, opposite the fields. When he was sure there was no one there, he gave the thumbs up.
James leaned out the corner window until his body was balanced. He saw the people gathered in large groups at the edge of each field. The patchwork quilt of growth suggested that careful planning had gone into the initial development of the land plots on what used to be a golf course, according to Terry.
Max knew what golf was, but nobody else did. They only saw fields and neat rows where the farmers planted their crops.
***
Gene woke up and leaned toward Terry. His Werebear eyes were unfocused. He smacked his lips before speaking. “Something happening.”
“What?” Terry asked, but Gene shrugged.
Terry looked out the window, but couldn’t see anything. He clenched and unclenched his fists as his eyes darted back and forth, looking for any movement.
He heard the door opening. The brownstone directly across the street. The steps where Terry had held Joseph back.
A man walked out, older, sophisticated. Everything about him screamed Forsaken. Terry looked to Gene and then pointed across the street. Gene shook his head.
Terry crawled across the open space. “He’s a Forsaken or at least a Were, right?”
Gene shook his head. “Neither,” he whispered.
Terry crawled back and peeked out. Men were joining the one who looked like the leader. They were armed and carrying their weapons at the ready. The sophisticated man stood tall, carrying only a strap of leather that looked like a riding crop.
Terry reached down and felt the whip at his side. On the other, the pistol, his .45 ACP. He’d also strapped the short cavalry sword across his back, under his pack. Terry had not practiced with it enough to use it effectively, but he had it just in case he needed to hack off a head. It would be easier than with his silvered knife blade.
The group walked with purpose toward the fields, their faces set and their muscles taut.
***
Char perked up after fifteen minutes. The person upstairs seemed to be waiting until an armed group came down the street. Without a word, he walked outside and met them. A tall, aristocratic looking man led the newcomers past the building from which Char looked out and toward the field.
Char was surprised that he wasn’t a Forsaken or special in any way. The men followed him
as if he was magnetic.
She watched them go until the road was empty. “Go upstairs now and see what there is to see. Hurry!” Char told Eldie.
***
“Get back in here!” Max called.
James pulled himself in and dove to the floor. He was glad of the fresh air he’d gotten when outside, enjoying the breeze coming from the east, bringing a hint of the ocean’s saltiness.
Max leaned sideways to look into the street. A leader with a group of armed men were coming, but their eyes were focused straight ahead.
They strode forward, their pace quick. They walked past the outhouse building and kept going in the direction the others had gone.
Max told them what he saw: twenty some men armed with rifles of various types. One well-dressed man walking up front, leading them.
“What do we do?” James asked, looking for input.
Max understood the old school military better than the others. “We follow the colonel’s orders and stay put until nightfall, then we exfil to the fields where we catch our ride home.”
“But we can’t see what’s going on and I think this is important. Did they trade one strongman for another? We need to know. I’m going to lean out and take another look,” he told them. “Grab my feet.”
He pointed to Bennie and then leaned out the window past his waist while Corporal Heitz watched the streets.
Once his body was precariously beyond the window sill, James could see to the fields where the people were spread out and working. The armed men walked to them, separated into three single files and continued between the fields, leaving the workers to themselves.
The armed group kept going until they were lost from sight. The farmers didn’t seem to care about the group before or after they walked by.
“Pull me in,” Sergeant James called softly and was immediately dragged back across window sill and into the house. “Easy!”
It was too late. James gasped and groaned. He limped around massaging his private parts. “You smashed my junk,” he whined.
“They didn’t bother the people in the fields who didn’t give those guys a second look,” James reported, when he had his breath back and was able to stand up straight. “Maybe it was a hunting party, I don’t know. No one seemed to be under anyone’s boot. They are just fine, so I guess you’re right, Heitzy. We’ll hunker down until nightfall and then get the fuck out of here.”
Nomad's Justice: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 6) Page 10
