“Fine as ever,” Andy said, rose to his feet, and drained the rest of his beer.
Bradley took the stairs two at a time. He found Monica and explained what he, Andy, and Chris planned to do.
“You just got home, what if the police show up and you aren’t here?”
“Tell them I’ll be right back. This can’t wait. By tomorrow, the stores shelves could be empty.”
“But you just got home. What if there’s more trouble?”
“Baby, I’m sorry. We’ll be back as soon as possible. Just lock the doors again. I promise it won’t take that long. By the time we get there, we may not find much food.”
“Do you really think it’s going to be that bad?”
“I’m afraid so, love. I’m afraid so.”
“So, you’re going to just run off and leave the woman at home again, huh? Why don’t you make a list and I’ll go? You can watch Jenny and Junior.”
“Sure. I’ll get a pencil and paper,” Bradley said.
“Oh, damn. Called my bluff.”
“Didn’t think you were bluffing. I love you, honey. I just want to make sure we’re all safe for a week or two. Maybe this will all blow over and we’ll go back to normal. I’ll start looking for a job again,” Bradley said.
“They probably have some insurance at AlgerTech for what happened. I bet they will owe you some,” Monica said.
She put her hand in his and held it.
Bradley pulled her tightly against him. She wrapped her hands around his waist and hugged him. When he kissed her, she tasted like coffee, and he didn’t mind so much.
“You just be careful, okay? You’re not going to be this lucky forever,” Monica said.
“I promise I’ll be careful. I didn’t ask for any of this. Ed Reels was a wacko, and I wouldn’t have ever hurt him. It’s such a tragedy,” Bradley said. “But I’ll tell you one thing, I don’t regret that I killed him. It was me or him, and if you had seen the bodies, you would have done the same.”
Monica’s face clouded. “I’m glad you’re talking about it, but you’re going to need to talk to someone when everything is back to normal. Promise me you will.”
“I promise. I’ll talk to Pastor Glenn for starters. Get things right with God. Then I’ll see where that leads me.”
“It better lead you to a therapist,” Monica said.
“I got the message, baby. I promise I’ll find a good one.”
Monica hugged him again, this time with a fierceness he returned.
“Now go do whatever stupid thing you’re about to do with the boys.” Monica thumped his chest with her hand.
“I will, besides. It’s good for me to keep moving. Takes my mind of what happened yesterday,” Bradley said.
“Yeah. Keep moving your ass back home as soon as you are done. Don’t even think about stopping to make sure the bars are safe and still have stock,” Monica said.
Bradley laughed for the first time in two days.
“You got it, Mon,” Bradley said with a smile.
He touched his side to make sure the Kimber was still in easy reach, grabbed his keys, and wallet, and went outside to meet Andy and Chris.
He had every intention of talking to Pastor Glenn in the next week, just like he’d promised.
Sadly, Pastor Glen didn’t make it through the next few weeks.
Chapter Twenty-One
There was going to be a learning curve, that was the final words of advice sergeant Wells offered James Briggs before he departed with Charlie and Delta. He’d left Alpha and Bravo at the newly constructed check point. It wasn’t much, yet, but they had promised more equipment, including a HUMVEE in the next few hours. For now, it was a large light to illuminate the area suspended from hastily rented or requisitioned scaffolds.
They had used the MTV to block half of the street, themselves, and it was 2330 hours and mandatory curfew would start in half an hour. James knew because he checked his watch every couple of minutes. When he’d asked what he was supposed to do with those who broke curfew, Wells had said, “Use your best judgment. If you’re given any grief, you are to detain those who do not follow your orders. Is that understood?”
It was understood but it was all very surreal.
They left supplies in a large wooden box. Plastic cuffs, MREs, and bottled water. He hadn’t had a chance to go through the rest of the equipment that had been left for the squad yet.
There were still a lot of people on the streets, either scurrying to stores or running home. Cars had come to a near standstill, and the side streets were gridlock. Abandoned cars everywhere. Some pulled to the side of the road, other’s blocking. A number of them still had occupants who were unsure how to get to their destinations. Was he supposed to arrest someone if they dragged their kids to a hotel because they were tired of waiting in the cold?
Elements of the Army had been trickling in for the last few hours. Troops on the back of transports carrying weapons and wearing grim looks. If the Army was here, good, maybe they would all be allowed to go home in a few days.
Earlier, James had been thrilled that he had been made a fire team leader. Now he wasn’t so excited because he was worried he would choke if the proverbial crap actually hit the fan. He had stared at the words on his orders that stated, “LETHAL FORCE AUTHORIZED,” and been chilled to the core.
When the time came and went, nothing really changed. There had been a couple of people on the street earlier, rushing, while checking the time, but they had disappeared.
Alpha company went out on patrol and came back half an hour later with nothing to report.
James assembled his squad and took the next patrol because he wanted to stretch his legs. He’d been up for eighteen hours and he wasn’t sure when he would be able to get some sleep. It wasn’t that eighteen hours was an eternity, it was the thought that it might soon double that made him groan.
He moved out with his squad and patrolled a four block area. People peered out from windows. A woman waved at them, and they waved back.
“She wants me,” Skip said.
“She wants you to do her laundry,” Sanders said. “Then clean her windows. Did you see those things?”
“I’d do it for the right fee,” Skip said and grabbed his crotch.
“You’re so gross,” Sanders said.
Sanders turned around to check their six, but not before James caught a little smirk on her lips.
“Did you see that?” Cooper said. He pointed toward the end of the block.
James squinted and made out a couple of people near a car. Great. It was going to happen sooner or later, he just didn’t expect to have start confronting civilians so quickly.
“There is a mandatory curfew in effect as of thirty minutes ago. What are you doing on the streets?” James yelled as they approached the two men.
Cooper and Skip moved at a forty-five degree angle, with their M4’s at patrol ready, so could cover the men’s flank. James took the lead with Sanders right behind him.
The two men, one sitting on a car hood, the other standing next to him, smoking a cigarette, were both Hispanic.
“Mandatory…what the fuck?” the guy sitting on the car said.
“Chicago is now under martial law. You’re not allowed on the streets unless it’s to go to go to work for emergency services or for utilities. If you have a hardship, you will be able to apply for a permit in the morning,” James said.
“I don’t need a permit for my line of work, bro. Know what I’m saying? I’m at work now. You need anything?”
“Sir, I’m going to say this one time and one time only. If you do not return to your home immediately, we will detain you.”
“Man. Get the fuck out of here, GI Joe. You can’t infringe on my right to be outside,” the man on the hood of the car said. He pointed at the four-story building next to the street. “I live up there on the second floor. See?”
James had a moment of indecision. He could take the patrol and move on. But that woul
d not look good in anyone’s eyes. Wells had told him that they might have to set an example, and the first few nights would probably where they ran into the most trouble.
“Please, return to your home and tune into your local news channels on the radio or television,” James said. “This is your last warning.”
“Warning? This is the US of A and I’m legal, bitch. I was born here, not sure about that guy. He got a green card?” the man stood up and pointed at Skip.
“Dude, I’m half black, and you’re one half of an asshole team. Why don’t you go inside before anything nasty goes down,” Skip said. “Know what I’m saying?”
“So, wait. You’re gonna come into our neighborhood and tell us how to act, where to be, when to be there? I don’t think so, man. I don’t think that shit’s gonna go down too well. See, we got this block locked up,” the man said, then added. “Know what I’m saying?”
His friend didn’t look like he wanted to be part of this. His face went from cocky to scared in the space of a few seconds.
To hell with these guys.
James snapped his M4 up to firing position, pointed it at the man, and put his finger over the trigger. Sanders pointed her gun at the other man who stood by the side of the car.
“Against the car, now. Hands interlaced behind your neck. If you so much as reach into your jacket, I won’t hesitate to fire,” James said. “Do it!”
The man’s jaw dropped. He slowly turned and raised his hand. The guy’s friend did the same thing, but not before calling his pal a puta.
“Hey, hey, we were just playing around,” the man protested. “No harm, no foul.”
James slung his M4 low while Cooper and Skip covered them from the right flank. Both held their guns at the ready.
James used his foot to nudge the man to spread his legs. Skip came around and pulled a pair of plastic cuffs off his belt.
“You had your chance,” James said.
He patted the man’s waist and didn’t find anything, but pulled his wallet and put it on the hood of the car. His friend was a different story. He carried a .38 revolver in the waistband of his pants and under his shirt. James took it and put it in his own belt.
“I have a conceal and carry for that,” the man said. “I’m an American.”
“Good. Then you’ll understand what’s happening and why you’re coming with us,” James said.
Lights came on in windows in the apartment complex. James fished out the UHF radio Wells had handed him, piece of crap that it was. Typical US Army hand me down.
He called in the two men, and then requested help. Wells informed him that Charlie was double timing it to their position.
A woman opened a window. She was dressed in a large orange robe. “You can’t do that. Those boys aren’t causing any problems.”
“Ma’am, please go back about your business,” James called.
Skip and Sanders cuffed the two men. More windows opened and heads peered outside.
“We’re going to have trouble,” Skip said quietly.
“I hope not,” James said truthfully.
Another window opened, and the face of an angry older man appeared, then another window slid upward and a man and woman leaned out to see what all the noise was about.
“Just ignore them,” James advised his squad.
“Hey. Leave those boys alone,” a man yelled.
James got the cuffs on the second guy. They protested that this wasn’t constitutional. They couldn’t be picked up like this. Then one of the men called him a fucking Nazi. Great. That’s exactly what he had signed on for. To be called a Nazi.
“Gun!” Sanders yelled and took cover behind the car. Skip joined her and pointed his M4 at the building.
Cooper and Skip took cover next to a dark Chrysler Le Baron and trained their guns on the window.
“Do we take him out?” Skip asked.
“No. Do not fire unless fired upon,” James said. All he needed was for this to go south real quick on his first night. They would never let put him in charge of a team again.
Charlie company arrived and took cover behind a truck. James signaled to them. Their fire team leader, a woman named Angela Davis, wasn’t his favorite person in the world. There was nothing that she had done job wise, she just rubbed him the wrong way whenever they tried to engage in conversation.
“SITREP?” she asked James.
“Two men refused to go back into their house. We confronted them, they didn’t back down, so we put them in cuffs. People in their apartment complex didn’t take too kindly to that and exchanged words. There was a guy in that second floor window, fourth from the right, with a gun, but he backed away.”
“Probably just heard all the noise and got freaked,” Davis said.
“Yeah. Appreciate you coming out here for support,” James nodded.
“Well, I wasn’t getting a mani-pedi tonight so why the hell not?” She smirked.
“We’re going to withdraw and bring these guys back to the FOB for processing,” James said.
“We’ll hang back and cover your retreat. Stay in the shadows,” Davis said.
“Do our best,” James said, annoyed that she’d mentioned retreat.
She was just kidding around, sure, but it was the way she did it that got him. Like she was smarter than everyone around her. Maybe he was alone in his thinking. He’d never heard anyone say anything bad about Angela Davis. Plus, her team trusted her or she wouldn’t be a fire team leader.
“Hell of a night,” he said.
“This is just the start. Give it a few days and this shit is going to be a walk in the park comparatively,” Davis said.
“How do you know?” James asked.
“I’m a sociology major. What would you think if the army rolled into your home town and told you to stay the hell off the streets after 2200 hours?”
“Yeah. I guess I’d be a little cross,” James said.
“Crossed. What are you, fifty? Who says that?”
James frowned, then gathered his squad under cover from Charlie and took them to the FOB.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chris had no regrets about shooting the old man.
He had feared that the events at Bradley’s home would force him to move again. But the police had never arrived and, as they made their way to the local super store, he found the city was already devolving into chaos. For now, all he had to do, was be a good little American and pretend to fit in. He had given Bradley over a thousand dollars from his personal cash supply, and it would be worth every penny if he could lay low for a few more days.
The town of Vicksburg fit in with his plans. Since it was a small city, he knew there wouldn’t be that many security cameras, the bane of his existence. The second he had walked into the Walmart, he had snagged up a ball cap featuring an American Eagle and pulled it over his eyes.
A run on goods was underway, and there would be fights. His first stop was at the gun counter in the back of the store where the line stretched along a full aisle. He noted an older man’s name, prominently displayed on his ID badge, and then waited.
The second the two employees had their backs turned, he moved behind the counter and grabbed two handfuls of 9mm and .357 ammo. He would have loved to buy a new weapon but there was no way in hell he’d be able to fake it. As good as his ID was, it would never pass even the barest of government checks for a firearm purchase. At least he still had the gun he had taken off the old man after shooting him in the head at Bradley’s house.
Someone protested his intrusion, and another man raised his voice, saying “You have to wait in line like the rest of us, buddy.”
Chris ignored them, kept his head down, and pushed his cart off into the crowd. The best concealment in the world awaited him, a flurry of activity from scared shoppers.
With his cart loaded, it was just a waiting game to checkout and, even when the clerk tried to give him grief about not purchasing ammo in the correct location, he flat out told the young w
oman that “Chuck at the booth told me it was okay. He said to tell you that.”
With a line of impatient shoppers behind him, she just shook her head and rang the rounds up.
As he wheeled his cart outside, a large man wearing a Chicago Cubs ball cap bumped into him. He tried to ignore the man but the man was persistent.
“Hey, man. Sorry about that. Looks like you got a lot of stuff there. Can I buy some of it? I have cash.”
“Fuck off,” Chris said and pushed his cart away.
He saw the second man coming a mile off. He’d been waiting behind a pillar holding up the Walmart’s sloping overhang and wasn’t all that smooth. But the two were big men, and they were probably used to getting their way at bars.
The second man grabbed Chris’s cart by the basket and yanked. Instead of fighting, he pushed hard, and took the man off balance, forcing him to stumble before the man went down with a cry.
Chris would have loved backup. Even someone with his training wasn’t a sure bet against two experienced combatants, so timing and speed were of the essence.
There was no finesse in the kick. He delivered it with a snap to the first man’s knee. Chicago ball cap yelped and Chris followed up the kick with a y-hand blow to his throat. That took the fight right out of him, and he dropped to his knees gasping for breath.
The second man barreled into him. Chris accepted the momentum and turned his body, making a hook with his toes against the pavement, leg cocked, creating a basic Judo move. The guy tripped and went to his hands and knees.
Chris pulled out the .357 Smith and Wesson revolver he’d taken from Russ Reels and pointed it at them.
“Get out of here or I’m going to splatter your fucking brains all over the sidewalk. Go. Run!”
They got smart and followed his orders.
People stopped to gawk and one man even took out his cell phone. Chris kept the revolver in hand and pushed his cart. As the passed the man with the cell phone, he slapped it out of his hand. It clattered to the ground with a noise known all too well by cell phone owners, that of the screen cracking.
DRUMS OF WAR: A Dystopian Thriller Series (Broken Patriot Book 1) Page 14
