by Bobby Akart
He considered calling in air support and troops through Fort Hood. However, the show of force might result in getting his family killed. If they were under attack or held hostage, panicked gunmen might decide to kill and run rather than fight the Texas military.
As hard as it was not to call upon the assets at his disposal, Duncan knew it was best to gather more information and assess his options with a full picture of what he was facing ahead.
He turned off Willow Valley Road and took the shortcut across the hilly terrain that ran parallel to the Colorado River. This was the quickest way to FM 1205 and the long driveway into the north gate of the Armstrong Ranch.
Duncan caught himself strangling the steering wheel with both hands. He loosened his grip, flexed his fingers, and wiped his sweaty palms on his desert-night camouflage fatigues. Designed for use by the Marine Corps Combat units in the Middle East, Duncan had ordered the unit to wear the mixture of black, dark blue, and light gray for their mission to Boys Ranch.
After turning on the packed gravel and clay driveway, he forced himself to slow down. In the quiet darkness, his vehicle could be heard from the north gate, and he wasn’t certain who’d be manning it. Knowing the driveway well, Duncan turned off his headlights and affixed his night-vision goggles to his head.
The flat, arid lands of West Texas turned bright green as he continued forward. As he rolled slowly toward the gate, an occasional set of beady eyes appeared on both sides of the road. Curious black-tailed prairie dogs or rock squirrels would emerge from their hides to take a look using natural night vision as reliable as his eight-thousand-dollar device.
Duncan hit an unexpected pothole, which jerked the steering wheel to the left as he passed through a chute of boulders. He attempted to correct his course, and then it happened. In the darkness, he never saw the trip wire that triggered the improvised explosive device set up by Holloway’s men.
A massive blast underneath upended the three-ton Humvee and sent it tilting toward the right. Duncan flew against the passenger side of the truck as it swerved its way toward the side of the road and then toppled onto its side. The windows had exploded outward from the pressure, but bits of glass still flew about the interior of the truck.
His body fought to maintain consciousness as the Humvee took one final roll until it wedged on its roof against a large boulder. The blast under the enclosed truck had produced overpressure within the cab, which had immediately impacted Duncan’s brain. His head pounded. He temporarily lost his hearing, and his vision became blurred.
He was having difficulty breathing, as the blast had effected his lungs. With the grenade directly between the hard surface of the driveway and the bottom left side of the Humvee, the blast pressure had exerted itself upward toward the bottom of the truck. The sudden, violent movement had caused Duncan’s internal organs to shake uncontrollably inside his body.
Duncan was in incredible physical shape, and he’d experienced similar attacks during his service in the military. An average man would have succumbed to the blast or at the very least fallen unconscious. Duncan’s physical ability to withstand the blast effects saved his life.
The Humvee was about to catch on fire as the fireball created by the grenade burned under the fuel tank. He had to get out of the truck. He crawled through the windshield and found his way to the rocky soil in a dry creek bed adjacent to the driveway.
His head was pounding, and his vision was blurred, but he kept dragging his body forward. The ringing of his ears prevented him from hearing the armed commandos running up the driveway toward him. All he knew was that the Humvee was about to blow.
Duncan found a rock and attempted to pull himself up. He closed his eyes and willed his vision to come back. Looking ahead, he could make out the two shapes approaching him, but he couldn’t see anything with sufficient clarity to react. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground again. Then he heard the distinctive sound of a charging handle being pulled on a battle rifle.
Not good.
Duncan Armstrong closed his eyes and knew it was over. In those milliseconds as his brain processed the prospect of his final days on Earth, visions of his parents, siblings, and the sweet face of Sook flashed through his mind. He took solace in knowing that he’d done his duty to God, country, and family.
Content with his fate, his body relaxed as he heard two shots reverberate through the night.
Chapter 13
January 23
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
Holloway ran onto the front porch of the house with a can of garbanzo beans in one hand and a spoon in the other. The explosion could be heard inside over the crackling fire, which he’d built to stay warm. He found his men scrambling out of the barn, where they were forced to sleep temporarily.
“Somebody out here want to tell me what the hell is going on?” he barked at no one in particular.
One of his men rushed to his side with a two-way radio. “Sir, as instructed, the perimeter security patrols set up IEDs at each entry to stop incoming vehicles. The north gate device was triggered.”
Holloway nodded and scooped out another spoonful of the delectable chick peas mixed with Tabasco sauce. He realized he didn’t have his radio and reminded himself that this might not be over yet. He checked his watch. It was just after ten.
He motioned for the commando to hand over his radio, which Holloway clipped to his gun belt. “Give me that and find another. Then take a couple of guys to check it out. Raise me on the radio when you know something.”
Holloway glanced toward the pile of smoldering debris where the barn had stood. His plan was to get up bright and early in the morning to supervise the cleanup. He was ready for day one of life as a Texas rancher. As for tonight, he looked forward to a well-deserved rest mixed with spending a little quality time with the woman captured by his men after they had killed the dairy farmers to the south.
The pickup truck pulled out of the yard and headed north up the driveway. Holloway wandered around as he was left alone to his thoughts. He had a nose for trouble and could sense that this battle wasn’t over yet. He and his men needed rest. They hadn’t slept since the night before the assault on Camp Lubbock. Between fleeing their pursuers and conducting reconnaissance on the ranch, they’d only enjoyed a restless nap of an hour or two.
He’d taken his prize, and now he was anxious to enjoy it. But something in his gut told him these Armstrongs weren’t going to go away quietly. He found his way closer to the destroyed barn and took a deep breath. It reminded him of war. The smell of burned-down buildings and death.
Holloway took a last scoop of garbanzo beans into his mouth and licked the spoon clean. He tossed the empty can into the smoking debris, and it landed with a clanking, metal-on-metal sound. Finding this odd, he tilted his head momentarily. Holloway took a step forward and then stopped as the radio crackled to life.
“Sir, I’m passing through the north gate. There appears to be a wrecked Humvee up ahead.”
Holloway grinned. I knew it.
Chapter 14
January 23
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
Major was a quarter mile downriver when he heard the explosion. He quickly turned and saw the fireball, which rose into the sky, followed by the sickening sound of steel scraping against the rocks. His heart immediately sank. A heinous trap had been set, and his gut told him that Duncan had been ensnared in it.
As he raced through the scrub oaks that lined the north side of the river, he could hear shouts coming from the bridge to his left. The commandos were still searching for him, but they’d taken the time at some point to booby-trap the driveway leading to the ranch. Somehow, they’d expected more visitors like himself.
He entered the clearing overlooking the drive, and he immediately recognized Duncan’s Humvee. He fought back the urge to run to his son’s aid, as the commandos had their rifles raised and were slowly walking toward the vehic
le.
That was when Major saw a man slumped over a large rock. It was too dark to determine if it was Duncan, but the flames underneath the Humvee illuminated the area enough for Major to know that he had to move quickly to save the man’s life.
He drew his weapon and moved in, periodically glancing toward the ranch to make sure no one else was approaching. With the distracting noise coming from the burning oil out of the truck’s engine, Major was able to close on the gunmen.
The men stood over the helpless figure and raised their rifles to shoot, when Major expertly fired two rounds into the base of their skulls, killing them instantly. He quickly moved forward, and then he saw Duncan.
His son rose to his knees and held his hand up, grasping for the large rock in front of him.
“Son, it’s me!” Major holstered his weapon and helped Duncan off the ground. “Are you hurt?”
“They rattled my innards, Dad,” Duncan replied with a muted chuckle.
“Let me help you stand.” Major lifted Duncan up by grabbing under his armpits, and then he steadied him against the boulder.
“Better. Dad, what happened?”
“They’ve taken the ranch, son. I don’t know anything about your mother or the kids. I approached the north gate with two state troopers, and they were gunned down. I barely made it out alive when I tried to call you. They shot the radio out of my hand.”
Duncan was beginning to regain his composure and looked around. He raised his head and sniffed. Gasoline was pouring out of the fuel tank.
He forced himself to stand. “I’ve got to get my rifle and the night vision.”
His wobbly legs rejected that notion. Major helped his son back to a seated position on the rock, and then he walked toward the Humvee, shielding his eyes from the light and heat as he approached.
A reflection in the ditch caught his eye. The flames were flickering on a shiny object. Major rushed forward and crawled on his knees the final ten feet to avoid the heat from the flames. The reflections showed themselves again, allowing him to retrieve Duncan’s goggles.
Major then turned his attention to the truck. It was too risky to crawl inside the cab and search for the rifle. Duncan had done a great job of stocking the ranch with weapons over the last two weeks. They could make do with what he’d procured, but he wasn’t gonna let them make do without a father.
He scrambled to his feet and rushed back to Duncan. The sound of an approaching vehicle gave him a new sense of urgency. His eyes searched for his son, but he couldn’t see him. Once he approached the rock, he found out why.
Duncan had found the strength and the presence of mind to strip the dead North Koreans of their weapons, radios, and extra ammunition. He was tucking things into his cargo pants pockets when Major caught up to him.
“Dad, they’ll be coming. We’ve got to go.”
“They’re already on the way. I just heard their truck going over the bridge.”
Duncan stood and wiped the dirt off his sleeves and hands. “I’m glad you heard them. My ears are still ringing.” He handed Major a gun belt, who slung it over his shoulder. Then he added, “What is it they say about your ears ringing?”
Major was puzzled at his son’s nonchalant attitude and became immediately concerned for his mental well-being. “You mean right for spite and left for love?”
“Yeah, that. I seem to have equal numbers on both sides of the love-hate spectrum. Come on, let’s hide so we can figure out what to do next.”
Major put his arm around his son and helped him across the road and into the woods. As they walked together, he told Duncan more details of what he’d observed earlier. Their conversation reinforced what Major always knew about his son, the warrior. He’d never met a man as coolheaded under pressure.
“Dad, I’m not gonna accept that they’re dead. Worst case is they’re being held hostage. The best case is they escaped. Where would they go?”
“East, I think. Either to the ranch where we moved some cattle the other day or even the woods where they could seek cover. Lucy and the boys were hiding buckets of food, guns, ammo, and huntin’ clothes near the trail that led down the ravine.”
Duncan rolled his head around his shoulders and neck. “My eyesight’s coming back, and the haters and lovers must’ve taken a break, because the ringin’ has subsided.”
“Are you up for a hike?”
“Yeah, it makes sense that they would flee the point of attack. It was smart to move the caches to the east in the direction of their bugout. Lead the way, but take us as close to the house as you can so we can get a feel of what we’re up against.”
Major started ahead, and then Duncan stopped him by touching his shoulder. Major turned and locked eyes with his oldest son.
“Dad, thanks for saving my life.”
“You’re welcome, son. None of us are going to die today.”
Chapter 15
January 23
The East Woods
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
“This should be the last one,” said Cooper as he slowly walked up the trail toward the first cache bucket he and Riley had hidden with their mother the other day. Little did they know at the time that they’d need the contents already.
“Coop, should we take these others back first?” asked Riley as he stopped thirty feet behind his brother. He leaned over and heaved for air. Tromping up the ravine on the uneven trail had taken its toll on the heavier of the two brothers.
“Wait here if you want. I remember where we buried it, and I can dig it out quickly.”
Riley didn’t hesitate as he immediately stopped. “I ain’t gonna argue.”
Cooper could hear the sound of the plastic buckets being set aside by Riley, so he quickly turned and made his way toward the oak tree that was lined up with the corner fence post. He was almost there when he heard the sound of shuffling feet. He quickly turned off the SureFire flashlight and readied his rifle.
Cooper had to think fast as the sounds of the rocks tumbling down the trail grew louder. Should I backtrack and rejoin Riley? If I warn him, whoever is coming down the trail might hear. Should I take them on by myself?
Suddenly, the noise stopped. Crap! Did they discover me already? He tried to move quietly behind a rock to gain cover. It seemed like an eternity as he listened in the darkness for any hint of noise.
Was I wrong? Was it Riley kickin’ rocks and the direction of the sound was distorted?
His heart was beating out of his chest. His ears strained, and his eyes sought any form of movement.
He waited.
“Quiet, Coop!” a voice hissed in his ear as a strong hand covered his mouth at the same time.
Cooper’s eyes grew wide, and he tried to turn around, but the grip on his mouth and arms prevented any movement. He furiously nodded his head up and down. He turned and saw the night-vision goggles a few inches from his face.
“Duncan?” asked Cooper.
“Yeah. Dad too. But you have to be quiet and careful. There’s a patrol just above us on the fence line. I saw you and Riley as you came up the hill, but I couldn’t warn you. Coop, y’all talk way too much. Seriously.”
Cooper didn’t respond to the admonishment and instead gave his brother a hearty hug, one that was long overdue between the two brothers, who’d spent the last several years at odds over the death of Dallas in the war.
Major fumbled through the dark, pushing tree branches out of the way to move alongside them. “Coop, where’s your momma and sister?”
“We have a camp, Dad. Down in the east woods. Listen, there’s more.”
“Shhh,” Duncan warned. “They’re right above us.” The sound of men walking along the ridgeline could be heard as their heavy feet gave away their position.
“Wait. I’ll be right back,” said Cooper as he walked toward the fence post and quietly uncovered the last cache bucket. He knelt down to avoid detection, but it also enabled him to follow the dark silhouette of
the commandos against the starlit sky.
Once the patrol had walked out of sight, he returned to the guys.
“I’ll carry the bucket,” instructed Major.
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll go find Riley before he hollers up the trail. He’s only forty feet or so down this slope.”
Duncan moved ahead while Major followed in his footsteps. Duncan had a flashlight in his chest rig, but he was afraid for Major to use it. Fortunately for Cooper, the timing of their encounter had forced him to turn his light off. Had Duncan not intentionally made himself known by kicking a few stones, Cooper would’ve been discovered by the patrol.
Moments later, they joined Riley and Cooper before moving to the bottom of the ravine as a group. At one point, Cooper stopped and pressed the button on his flashlight to signal Palmer, who was standing guard alone while Sook tended to the wounded.
As they approached her position, the brothers stood to the side to allow Major to greet his daughter first. He’d reached the bottom of the trail when Palmer emerged from behind a rock outcropping.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, honey. It’s me and Duncan.”
Palmer ran into his arms, and the force of the embrace almost knocked them both over. Major, who was still sore from his own encounter with the North Korean gunmen, winced but didn’t care. There was nothing better than holding his baby girl in his arms again. Twice, he’d thought he’d lost his kids, and twice, they’d been reunited. The joyful reunion once again brought tears to his eyes.
Duncan joined them and gave Palmer a hug. “How’re ya doin’?”
