by John Grit
Brian walked in, holding his pack by one shoulder strap. “Uh, I thought we were leaving.”
~~~
The Williams family found Tyrone and Atticus at the burned-out courthouse, trying to salvage what they could. They were both relieved to learn the three were going to stay.
“We can sure use your help.” Atticus looked them over. “I don’t blame you for being pissed. Hell, I’m pissed. We have to make this community a decent place to live.”
Tyrone nodded toward the parking lot at a group of men working on a sheriff cruiser. “We have three volunteers so far, but people are reluctant. Some are not willing to risk their life, and many have families to feed. They’re busy preparing for spring planting.”
Mel walked up, looking as if he had just been out for a stroll, though he had actually been patrolling the area, looking for someone that needed killing, hoping some idiot would start something. What they did to Kendell had his blood boiling. He didn’t say anything, just stood there and listened. He did seem a little surprised to learn Nate and family were staying in town.
Nate nodded, and Mel took the opening. “Well guys, I have a helicopter to catch and have only a few minutes to get to the Army base.” He raised his eyebrows. “And just when it looks like things are going to get interesting around here. It doesn’t take a prophet to see what’s coming. Someone’s going to get their ass kicked. I would love to stay and help, but I have to go kick ass with the Guard.”
“I’ll drive you,” Nate offered.
Mel nodded toward a Humvee pulling into the drive. “Col. Donovan sent a ride.”
Nate glanced at the Humvee. “In that case, this is it.” The two shook hands. “Do the people of this county a favor and talk the ear off every officer you can buttonhole. The more people with some power who understand what’s happing here, the better.”
“It’s all in my report, but you can bet I’ll spread the word.” Mel scratched his newly shaven chin. He spent the early morning hour cleaning up in preparation for reporting to his commanding officer. “The thing is, more than likely it’s pretty much the same story everywhere, except worse.”
Atticus thrust his hand out. “Good luck to you and come back as soon as you can.”
Tyrone added, “I knew that any friend of Nate’s had to be a reliable man.” The two shook.
Brian stayed back, not speaking.
Mel turned to Deni. They held each other for a second.
“Take care,” Deni said.
“Yep. You take care of those two. Keep ‘em out of trouble, if you can.”
“That’s a tall order,” Deni quipped.
Mel looked at Brian. “I’ll be back here someday. In the mean time, the bunker and all that’s in it are yours.”
Brian blinked and looked away. “Just come back. I’m tired of losing friends.”
Mel shrugged his shoulders. “The fickle finger of fate, Brian. When Death points his finger at you, you can’t run fast enough. All we can do is the best we can. In some ways, I’ve already lived more than men who die old.” He shook his head and smiled. “Don’t feel sorry for me, friend, no matter what happens.” He grabbed his pack and rifle, then headed for the Humvee.
Chapter 6
A man named Jarrod Ashton came to Tyrone and Atticus one morning and told them about a convoy of big tractor-trucks that had been speeding by his home every night, first heading south around 10PM and heading north around 4AM. He lived on NE 228 Ave, twenty miles outside of the township limits of Glenwood. Having previously heard of the terrorists using tractor-trucks, he was worried they might raid his home and harm his wife. He made the trip on horseback, having run out of diesel fuel for his pickup long ago. He figured it would be safer to travel at night, so he could see headlights coming soon enough to give him time to turn the horse into the woods and hide while they went by.
Tyrone wanted to get the Army involved.
Nate shook his head. “We’ll do this alone. No telling what we find out.”
“What do you mean?” Atticus squinted in the sunlight.
“I’m just saying we should wait until we learn what we can before getting anyone else involved, especially the Army.”
Everyone there seemed puzzled by Nate’s words, but all remained quiet and let it go. Deni did have a question. “How can we be sure they’re part of the terrorist group? It’s possible others have scrounged up a semi to use for transportation.”
“Yeah,” Tyrone agreed, “but not likely. Those things drink fuel fast and are about the worst choice for simple transportation you could come up with. Still, we need to go easy if they let us. Don’t want to hurt innocents.”
“They’re with the terrorist assholes alright.” Brian seemed to have no doubt. “Mr. Ashton said there are a lot of semis going by his home, not just one or two, and they go by every night.”
“Yeah.” Deni put her helmet on. “Still, we better not go in with guns blazing, just in case we’re wrong.”
Nate scrounged up a horse trailer and hitched it to a truck, so he could give the man a ride back to his home. Deni and Brian prepared for a fight, going heavy on ammunition supplied by Donovan, and scrambled into the cab. Tyrone and Atticus followed in the sheriff cruiser.
The farther out of town they got, the fewer abandoned cars they came to in the road, and that allowed them to make better time. The two-lane country road was so overgrown on both sides, with brush overhanging, it appeared to them they were driving down a woods path paved with cracked asphalt. They had their windows down, and the brush made a swishing sound as they sped by.
They went on after dropping off Mr. Ashton at his home, leaving the horse trailer there.
“Look,” Nate said. “There’s another abandoned vehicle that’s been pushed off the road out of the way. Someone’s cleared this road.”
“Yeah.” Brian pointed. “That tree had fallen across the road but someone pushed it out of the way.”
“It took heavy equipment to do that,” Deni said. “They used a bulldozer or something. Otherwise, they would have had to cut it up into manageable pieces if they used only manpower.” She glanced at Nate. “This is getting curiouser and curiouser.”
Nate drove by another abandoned car. “As far as I know, the Army hasn’t been out here clearing this road and no one else has either.”
“And the Guard damn sure didn’t do it,” Deni added. “They haven’t been back in months.”
“Well, someone went through the effort and expense of fuel and labor to clear this little road for a reason,” Nate said. “Look for a big tall tree we can cut down across the road. We need to set up an ambush spot as soon as possible. We damn sure don’t want to be driving down this road when they show up. No telling what they’ll do.”
“They’ll try to kill us. That’s why they’ll do,” Brian said. They crested a hill, and Brian pointed. “Look at that tall healthy pine. It’ll do the job.”
Nate slowed down. “It’s as good a spot as any.” He found a Jeep trail and pulled off the road, hiding the truck behind thick woods after turning around, so they could drive straight out and leave in a hurry. They all jumped out and gathered at the tailgate. Nate lifted a two-man crosscut saw out of the truck. “Let’s get that tree down as fast as possible. Bring your entire load with you. We might get into a fight before we’re ready and have to abandon the vehicles.”
Tyrone drove past the truck, squeezing between it and trees, turned around, spinning in the sand, and pulled in behind them with the cruiser. He got out. “I guess you guys have noticed someone’s cleared the road.”
“Yep.” Deni nodded. “We’ve been discussing it for miles.”
“What do you make of it?” Atticus wanted to know.
Nate carried the saw past them, heading for the pine tree. “Maybe we’ll learn something tonight.”
Everyone put on their packs and grabbed their rifles, scrambling to catch up with Nate.
Atticus and Deni kept watch while Nate and Tyrone sawed.
Brian climbed an oak tree, so he could see trouble coming from farther away and give them an earlier warning.
When they were halfway through the tree, Deni yelled, “Trucks coming! Get down!”
They left the saw by the tree and did as she said. Four military trucks, deuce and a halfs, barreled by at high speed, going south toward town. Their canvas tops prevented them from seeing what kind of load they were hauling, if any.
Nate leaned his rifle against a tree. “So, the military is using this road.”
“Does that change anything?” Brian asked. “I mean, should we still block the road?”
Nate didn’t answer his question directly. “We’ll wait until dark, when those semi drivers are supposed to show up.”
Deni remained quiet, but it was obvious she had something on her mind that bothered her.
“What?” Nate wanted to know.
“What the hell is going on? That’s what.” She looked down the road. “Is there a connection between the trailer-less semis and the Army? And if so, is there a connection between the Army and the terrorists who drive those semis?”
Brian pulled his boonie hat off and mopped his forehead with it. Despite the cold weather, everyone was sweating. “Why would the Army be using semis that aren’t hauling anything?”
Nate pulled binoculars out from under his jacket, where they hung from his neck. “Maybe we’ll get some answers tonight. All of you take a nap while I keep watch for a couple hours. You’re not likely to get any sleep the rest of the night and maybe tomorrow, too.”
Scanning with binoculars, Nate took the time to memorize every tree and rock, every swell and dip in the terrain, and estimated the range of every prominent feature he could see from his position. He also got out a topographic chart and memorized every important feature of the area, in case they had to flee on foot. With only four adults and one teen, it wouldn’t take much to outgun them. They needed to be ready and able to retreat, if necessary.
He watched the dying afternoon view fade from bright green to dim gray and the blue sky darken to purple twilight. The wind had picked up, and he was worried the partially sawed tree might fall before they were ready, but as the sun fell below the horizon, the wind calmed.
Deni woke. Before she was on her feet, Brian was also awake. The first thing he did was grab his rifle, even before he looked around.
“How long has it been dark?” Brian asked in a whisper.
Nate’s answer was: “Time to cut the tree. If you two need to take a leak or anything, do it now. The fun may start at any time. Wake the others.” He took three steps and grabbed one end of the saw. In less than five minutes, the tree fell with a crash, frightening a buck and two does that were feeding on grass beside the road, only 70 yards away.
“I guess cutting that smaller tree down on the other side of the road would be too obvious,” Brian commented.
“Yeah.” Nate put the saw behind a tree, out of the way. “There’s a 99% chance they’ll be suspicious anyway. That means they’ll not likely stop right at the tree. Brian and Atticus, you watch to the south, while the rest of us watch to the north. Mr. Ashton said they usually come in from the north late in the evening and head back from the south early in the morning. As soon as we see headlights, we’re going to have to get into position. We’ll spread out 50 yards apart. They’ll probably stop as soon as they see the log and think on what to do next, while they look around for trouble. During that minute or so, Tyrone and I’ll rush them from their blind spot and get the drop on them. The rest of you will be staying behind cover and overwatching everything, including down the road in both directions. Since they may be associated with the Army, there’s a good chance they’ll have night vision devices. We’ve got to be careful here. If they’re associated with the Army, they’re probably not regular legs, because whatever they’re doing is definitely a covert operation.”
“Legs? What does that mean?” Brian asked.
“It means they may be Special Forces,” Deni answered in a worried tone of voice.
“Legs?” Brian asked.
“Infantry soldiers.” Deni answered. “Special Forces are always airborne qualified, thus they’re not ‘legs.’”
“Oh. Dad never talked about the Army much.”
Nate’s terse voice came from out of the dark, “Less talk, more looking and listening.”
Nate and Tyrone agreed it would be best to position as if the trucks were most likely to come in from the north side, so they decided to set up the ambush with that in mind.
Nate considered the situation. “If they’re the usual punks we’ve been dealing with, they just might drive up to the log, but if they’re associated with the military or civilian government, they’re going to stop as soon as they see it and not go anywhere near until they’re sure it’s not an ambush. So right off the bat, we’ll know whether or not we’re dealing with anarchist idiots.”
Deni added, “If they’re Army, they might come in with their lights off, using night vision instead.”
“Yeah,” Nate agreed. “That’ll be another clue early in the game.”
That was the last of their conversation. Deni, Atticus, and Brian lined up along the edge of the woods, separated by 50 yards, with Nate and Tyrone at the northern end of the kill zone, everyone on the same side of the road. Tyrone would come around the back of the semi and take on the passenger, while Nate approached the truck on the driver side. They hoped to take at least one prisoner alive.
At 10:15, Nate heard the wine of a truck’s big tires coming in from the north. He checked his Aimpoint electronic sight, shouldering his M14 and looking through it. The red dot glowed too brightly in the dark, obscuring the tree he used for a test target behind it, so he reduced its brilliance. When the truck crested a distant hill, he noticed right away they were running with no lights. Shit! This is going to be dicey.
The driver slammed on the brakes. Tires smoked and screamed. When he locked them up, the back tires bounced on the asphalt, as the truck slid sideways in the middle of the road.
Nate and Tyrone exploded from the dark woods and charged the truck. Approaching the driver’s side, Nate screamed “Sheriff’s Department. Hands up! Get your hands up or I will shoot!”
The shocked driver turned his head and looked at Nate with the latest military night vision device. The muzzle of Nate’s rifle convinced him. He immediately raised his open hands.
Tyrone tried the same tactic on the passenger side but had less luck. “You’re under arrest. Don’t move! I’ll shoot!” He was forced to shoot the man in the head when he snatched an MP5 machine pistol off his lap and tried to bring it up to fire. Some of the contents of the man’s head splattered on the driver. He yelled, “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”
“Tyrone,” Nate yelled, “Come around on this side and open the door while I hold my rifle on him.”
Tyrone did as directed, swinging the door wide open and staying back out of the way.
“Get your ass out of there and put your belly on the asphalt,” Nate demanded.
“Okay, okay. Don’t shoot.” The man followed Nate’s instructions explicitly.
Tyrone cuffed his hands behind his back and yanked the night vision goggles off his head. He stood up and looked down the road. “I think I hear another one coming.” He grabbed their prisoner by an arm and yanked him to his feet. “Move it.” Snatching the tall, thin man along, Tyrone got him in the woods before the truck crested a distant hill to the north.
Nate climbed into the cab and took a quick look around, finding nothing of interest. He jumped down and climbed onto the back, where the trailer would usually be hitched, and found ten military-style boxes four feet long, two feet wide, and two feet high strapped onto a makeshift platform, all colored olive drab. He could see no markings on the outside, but they were certainly military looking. A hand radio on the seat squelched twice and a man’s voice came from the speaker, using military call signs and protocol. Obviously, those in the other truck were tryi
ng to find out what was going on. There was no time to look any closer, so he jumped down and ran for the woods. He saw Tyrone and turned to his right, slowing his gait.
Tyrone had the prisoner on his belly and his big right boot planted between his shoulder blades to make sure he stayed there. “What now?”
Nate answered, “Depends on what the people in that truck do. If they drive away, I’ll go back out there and take a look at what the hell is in those boxes and then we’ll take this one someplace between here and town and interrogate him.”
They watched as the truck backed up and disappeared over the crest of the hill.
“They’re not gone,” Tyrone said.
“No they are not.” Nate pulled his binoculars out and scanned the horizon in the direction of the hill. A half-moon was out, and he could see well enough with the light-gathering ability of his high-quality binoculars. “The price of going out there to find out what’s in those boxes is likely to be high.”
Tyrone pressed down with his right boot, driving it into the man’s back. “Why don’t we ask this bastard?”
“We will,” Nate said. “First, let’s get the hell out of here.”
Tyrone snatched the man to his feet. “You’re under arrest for terrorism and conspiracy to commit murder.”
“Whaat?” The man laughed. “Just take me to Col. Donovan.”
Nate grabbed the man by his shoulder and spun him around. “Are you working under Donovan’s orders?”
The man’s answer was, “I’ll only talk to Col. Donovan.”
Nate fumed at the thought Donovan could be involved, but all he said was, “Let’s get the hell out of here right now.”
They stayed hidden in the woods back from the road, forcing the man along with them, as they headed south for the others.
When they were close enough Deni could see, she commented, “You got one.”
“Did you see the other truck?” Nate asked.
Confused, Deni answered, “No, I didn’t see anything but that one.”
“Must’ve been too far for you to see in the moonlight. They saw their friends in trouble and backed up behind the hill,” Nate said. “I’m sure they’re waiting up there for a chance to put a bullet into one of us.”
