by Angela White
The message, quickly recorded by Angela, repeated continuously, disturbing the peaceful mountainside. Nervous animals and birds took off in angry protest as the camp packed and loaded, scattering flocks.
5
Conner stayed still and silent as the camp rushed around, chattering and appearing scared. He didn’t care as much about that right now. He would do his part, and do it better than even Angela expected, but right now, he was focused on the couple lingering outside their tent. The pair didn’t know they were being observed, and that was how Conner wanted it. His dad had said he would help, but only if Conner had the patience to wait for the right time. So he was contenting himself with watching from a distance. He’d excused his behavior by saying he went for a walk every morning to help strengthen the leg that had been shot.
Conner stopped breathing as a pair of Eagles came by, but they didn’t notice him and he was able resume his stalking. He had a basic pattern now (find her, observe her and the guard that was always on her tent, then allow nature to take its course) and he moved into the final part in a daze. This was the time when he could be easily caught. The excitement sent blood rushing into his loins.
Not far away, the vet spotted Conner hiding in the bushes and weeds, and scowled heavily at the scene, but he didn’t stop. He had somewhere to be. Angela hadn’t given him an envelope. He was supposed to be with the rest of the sheep in camp when it all went down, but the vet had other plans. If he were successful, Angela would be grateful enough to grant him favors later, when it mattered.
Conner fell to his knees, breathing in hurried gasps that he tried to muffle with the sleeve of his jacket. As he knelt there, trying to recover, movement drew his attention. He watched the vet disappear into the thicker part of the woods.
Did he see me?
Conner hurriedly covered himself and got out of the area in case Chris told someone and Eagles came searching. The teenager didn’t wonder why the vet was sneaking out of camp, too concerned with his own infractions. Conner hurried to his tent to reread his first instructions, vaguely aware of birds fleeing their new noises and small animals running for dens.
That’ll be us shortly, Conner thought.
6
“Look.”
Sherman spotted the flock of upset birds that his right hand man had pointed out and grunted, “Finally!”
The mercenary team leader pulled a radio from his kit, aware that the other men with him were packing their gear in quick, eager motions. They were always relieved when the waiting was over.
Sherman clicked the mike in the code they’d chosen for this mission, breaking the static with calculated pauses of communication. If Safe Haven figured out what they were doing, they would switch to a different format. Sherman didn’t think they would need to. He and his team had performed this particular invasion many times. It always worked. All they’d been waiting for was a sign that Safe Haven was on the move. Command knew they wouldn’t stay out in the open for the fight and in the confusion of relocating so many people, Sherman and his team would have an opportunity to grab some of the leadership.
Sherman didn’t wait for a response. He slipped the radio onto the tool belt around his lean hips and began packing up his gear. They would be on their way within the hour. Dressed as Eagles, they wouldn’t be stopped.
Chapter Four
Do Your Duty!
1
“We’re almost there, sir,” the pilot called. Johnathan hadn’t expected an answer, but couldn’t stop a glance at his passenger. He’d never transported anyone as deadly. The Butcher even appeared dangerous while sleeping.
His passenger didn’t appear to have heard the call, but the pilot didn’t repeat himself. The stories about Major Donner implied he was always alert.
The pilot checked his gauges, adjusting a bit for the stiff winds. He glanced through his left window, spotting one of the hundreds of battlefields that the descendants had left in their wake. The ground was charred, gaping, and gone in some places.
The pilot looked to the right and found Major Donner sitting there, staring back at him.
“Fuck me!”
The Major grinned coolly. “I might, if you don’t pull up. Now.”
The pilot jerked hard on the stick and the plane missed the looted water tower by inches.
“You’ll do.” Major Donner yawned. “How long?”
The pilot swallowed his guts to reply, “Five minutes, sir.”
“Fine. Circle twice, then bring this bird down exactly where I tell you to.”
“Yes, sir.”
The landscape was harsh and ugly in the morning glare, matching Major Donner’s countenance. His scars, crooked nose, and missing tooth were a warning of how dangerous he was, much like the land below. Only the smartest would survive here, or those with descendants watching out for them. Major Donner didn’t plan to underestimate his prey. The powers that be had reached desperation in their fight to capture the Safe Haven descendants and they’d finally sent in the best.
Donner had cleaned out several pockets of their kind since the war, including one in Washington State that had earned him top level security clearance. He’d spent the last four months in the north, cleaning. He was glad to be back under American military rule again. The Canadians had been extremely strict when it came to visits from foreigners. Considering that Major Donner and his team had been there to assassinate their slowly forming leadership council, it seemed wise on their part. It hadn’t mattered, of course, but Donner had respected the effort.
The United States government also had people in the south, though few of those had checked in recently. The Mexicans, led by a man called Sebastian, were fighting more aggressively than anyone had anticipated. Safe Haven’s hope had spread, but Major Donner was slotted to head there as soon as he put out these flames. The Mexicans would have a couple more weeks to live and then Donner was supposed to lay waste to them all. At least, that’s what Uncle Sam had planned. What Donner ended up doing wouldn’t even be close, but the boss wouldn’t know until it was too late.
“Damn.”
The pilot’s shock was to be expected. The base below was destroyed. It was so bad that a tent city had been set up for the troops. Donner assumed the remaining buildings weren’t safe, but didn’t care either way. The men now staring up at his plane with resentment would learn that he wasn’t wasting any more time here than he had to.
“Bring us down right there in the middle.”
The pilot didn’t argue, despite the fact that some of the tents below would be damaged. He brought the heavy plane down with careful, light hands, then gave Major Donner a nod. “All clear. Wait for you?”
“No,” Donner grunted as he stood up. “I’ll find my own way from here.”
The pilot waited until Major Donner was visible through the big window and then began to turn the plane around to reuse the same area he’d cleared with his landing. As he rolled by the shouting men, the pilot radioed base, “Package is delivered. No trouble. Headed in.”
The soldier’s tent city was a disorderly clutter of canvas, equipment, and drunken, angry men. These were the reserves from the western base, the men who had earned passes and been promised that they would never have to venture out into this hell. Unlike the soldiers who had died in this fight before them, these thousand men wanted to be underground. It showed in the bad tempers and nasty remarks that had already begun to degenerate into physical confrontations.
Philips, the highest ranked man on site, didn’t push them or try to take control. He had to sleep and without friends (he was working on that, but it was slow going), Philips was sure he’d wake up to feel a blade sliding across his throat if he tried to insist on anything. He’d told base that in his last dispatch, flatly refusing to do his job. They’d informed him that a new commander was being sent to relieve him. The Butcher was rumored to be one of the best mercenaries in the business, but Philips wasn’t sure that one man could handle these unruly soldiers, let alone mak
e them attack Safe Haven.
Frowning, Philips watched Major Donner strut to the clearly marked tent waiting for him and duck inside. Didn’t the Major understand how upset these men were? They needed a sign of leadership.
Aware of all the resentful eyes on him, Philips limped into the tent behind his new boss.
“Welcome, Major Donner,” Philips spilled out, already intimidated by the man in front of him. “You have a full battalion of men to work with.”
The lackey looked around nervously when the imposing man didn’t reply. “It’s not much, I’m sure, compared to what you’re used to, but it’s all…”
“Stop.”
Philips fell silent immediately. He’d served a congressional representative before the war. He knew when to be offended and when to tolerate. This was neither of those. Major Donner was here to assume command and Philips wanted to stay close. With his limp, he wasn’t good for much else beyond supervising personal comforts.
“Where’s the leader of this base?”
“I believe I’m talking to him, sir,” Philips stated uneasily.
Major Donner sat down behind the ornate desk he was sure had once been in the hall of the base. It was a reception piece. Donner pulled a nearby pad of paper and pen closer, and wrote a short message.
He held it out to his new lackey. “Take that to the former leader of these men. Make sure his group gets to read it. Report back.”
“Yes, sir.”
Philips only waited to be outside before scanning the small, tight script.
Only cowards go AWOL when it gets bloody. Remember your training and you may even come back alive.
Philips quickly handed the note to the man he thought of killing every day and quickly got out of the line of fire. It was a direct challenge that Sergeant Shilling wouldn’t let pass.
2
“Get out here!”
“Come on, you bastard! No one calls me a coward!”
Major Donner came from his tent dressed in his usual hunting attire–kit on his back, rifle in his grip, pointed at the ground.
The sight of those worn, well-fitting knives brought a tense silence to the small crowd. He was good with them.
Sergeant Shilling had brought a few friends, ten other angry men who thought they would shine while in charge. He stood in front of them with his arms crossed.
Donner raised a brow. “Well?”
Suddenly remembering that he’d called the Major out, Sergeant Shilling stepped forward. “Uh, call base and tell them we ain’t attacking those people. Tell them to come and get us!”
Major Donner didn’t respond to the demand or the cheering. He spent a few seconds evaluating positions, possible skills and reactions, then shrugged. “Maybe I will. First, you’ll listen to what I have to say and make a choice. Okay?”
Caught off guard by the lack of resistance, the Sergeant caved. “Yeah, we’ll listen, but it ain’t gonna matter. We wanna go where it’s safe.”
Major Donner smiled sarcastically. “So do I, but I ain’t goin’ underground to be ordered out again the next time they pick a fight they can’t win.”
“You sayin’ we couldn’t beat those Safe Haven rent-a-cops?” one soldier from Shilling’s group asked cockily. “Cause that isn’t true.”
“That’s right, man! We choose not to.”
Major Donner kept his smile in place. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m just telling you that men who serve with me won’t be going to the base after the fight. Ever. We’re going to…promote ourselves, to free contractors.”
No one spoke, confused to hear such talk from someone with so much authority.
Major Donner waved toward the serene mountains. “That’s where I’m going first. After I take over that camp, I will have supplies, livestock, and females. Maybe even a few powerful slaves to keep Uncle Sam off my ass.”
Now there was complete shock, exactly what Donner needed in this uneasy moment. He looked to Philips “You with me? They plan to send you off to Mexico to be a lackey there. One way ticket, I hear.”
Philips felt rage grow thicker in his heart. “Free contractor sounds good.”
His choice confirmed, Philips was surprised when other soldiers began giving their agreement. It was as if they’d followed his choice. Philips hid a frown. Thy were responding to the intimidating man next to him. Pretending he had their loyalty could get him killed and Philips wasn’t going to let that happen. Not after everything that he’d already suffered.
Sergeant shilling felt his power slipping as men in his little group agreed with Philips, and snarled in defiance of the change in leadership. “This is my team! My men! We’re not following you!”
The ten men came forward despite their true feelings, as Philips had known they would. He got out of the line of fire, sure he was about to witness Donner’s murder.
Ready for the reaction that he’d provoked, Major Donner jerked his rifle upward and began firing.
Soldiers scattered, some reaching for weapons still in holsters, but the element of surprise gave victory to the lone man and the hot machine in his hand. The Butcher mowed down the entire group.
The nearest witnesses fled, while the rest observed in shock. None of them had ever seen a commanding officer do that before the war.
If he had wanted to, Donner could have wiped out nearly a hundred gaping lemmings. Instead, he deftly slung the rifle over his shoulder and headed toward the largest tent. “Is that the mess? I’m starved.”
Philips waited for the other soldiers to attack the crazy man or at least protest, but the shifting, eager faces said it wasn’t going to happen unless a spark was tossed.
Philips thought about it, but in the end, knowing his planned future tipped it in Major Donner’s favor. Philips limped after their new boss, getting his notebook and pen ready.
“Someone clean that up,” Philips called over his shoulder, no longer worried about his orders not being followed. He stopped at the flap and looked back long enough to memorize the sight of his bitter enemy lying dead and to order, “Drag that one into a thicket and let him rot.”
Most of the men here knew how Shillings had killed Philips’s son over a whore they’d found on a supply run. The order was obeyed without argument.
Major Donner ducked into the mess canvas and dropped his rifle and kit onto the front table. Behind the bare racks, a dirty, sullen cook stood mixing something in a large bowl. The smell wasn’t encouraging.
“We’ll start on plans in a bit,” Donner said. “For now, no more calls to or from base. Tell them we’re going quiet.”
“Yes, sir, but won’t they send a plane to find us after a while?” Philips made himself ask.
“Yes.”
“Do you know when?”
“Of course not,” Donner lied. “Well watch for it.”
When the plane came, Donner would either order it shot down or use it to secure his own ride to the bunker for that attack. He hadn’t made up his mind yet and he certainly wasn’t going to let these unhappy soldiers know when it was coming so that they could plot a mutiny around it.
Philips studied the hand-sewn patches and symbols on the Major’s kit. It appeared that the Butcher had traveled the world during his career.
“I have,” Major Donner answered, facing the opened flap where half a dozen men were watching and listening.
“You’re one of them!” Philips accused.
“How else did you expect to defeat an entire group of descendants?” Donner replied. “You guys didn’t stand a chance on your own.” Donner eyed them, making silent promises. “But I can’t kill them and take that mountain, not without all of you. Pass that on as well.”
Philips was sure the troops would feel better knowing the Major was powerful. All of them had dreaded fighting Safe Haven after witnessing the destruction here. Their egos had prevented them from saying it, but the reason for refusing to fight had been clear.
“That’s why I’m here,” Major Donner answered th
at thought, noting empty dishes waiting for mess to be called for this side of tent city. “We’ll lose a bit–don’t doubt it, but more than half will survive if they follow my orders. That’s better odds than a bunker now, right?”
“Yes,” Philips answered easily. Survival rates below ground were under 35%. The government needed control of the land again if they were going to rebuild their evil empire.
“We’ll get freedom after that? From you?” Philips found the courage to ask.
Major Donner shrugged. “I’m the boss wherever I’m at and I like to have a wide space around me to roam. Any good man can stay with me and follow my lifestyle, or run for their tiny lives and stay out of my way. I couldn’t care less.”
Philips didn’t care for the sound of all of it, but not answering to the government ever again was enough to start with.
“I’m in.” Philips ignored the surprised sounds from those listening. “What do you need first?”
Major Donner grinned, brown eyes becoming solid black in his joy. “Hostages. As many as you can find. Any age will do.”
In the silence, Donner pinned the surely cook with a hard glare. “Get out.”
The boy didn’t waste any time, and Donner finally began the part of this job that Philips was familiar with.
“Send out a hunting team. There’s a small farm ten clicks due north. Bring back everything they find–alive. Then call them all together right here. I have things to say.” Donner took a map from his jacket and unrolled it. “There are two underground ammo dumps, here and here,” he said, pointing as Philips came forward to hold one side. “We’ll scavenge what we can and the head here.”
He pointed again. “This is a stockpile zone and has likely gone untouched. We’ll be in the black on weapons by this time tomorrow.”
The men were glad to discover the three areas were close by. It wasn’t hard for Philips to gather three teams to head out on those missions. They were quickly out of sight as Philips returned to Donner’s side, waiting for his next orders.
