by Joe Nobody
Since capturing the spy, he self-confidence had rebounded nicely. Still stinging from the last battle and the people he had lost at Rattlesnake Springs, it had been difficult for him to accept that he’d been outmaneuvered. Things were going to be better this time. The playing field had been leveled, and he was assured that he had the upper hand.
His lieutenants had agreed.
Calling them together, the plan had been simple to hatch. “How many people do we have that are fit to fight?” he’d asked Hamilton.
“About thirty including a couple of the women,” responded his second.
“Good,” Keith had sighed. “Let’s go after his weak point in two waves. Joe, you lead team one. Jimmy, you take the second. It’s all or nothing. No reserves, no second chances, no retreat. Either we sleep inside the cavern tonight, or I’ll see you all in hell.”
They could feel the electricity of survival in the air. Every man and woman … every resident of the hotel understood what was on the line. The pool was nearly dry. Their food reserves were dwindling, and the air filters were failing. It was now or never, do or die.
People were flying down the hallways preparing themselves for that battle that what was to come. Rifles were pouring out of closets, ammo was being stuffed into magazines and packs, and the last of the water being dispensed into any container that would hold the precious liquid.
Keith spotted one group doing their best to assemble medical kits, tearing hotel linens into usable strips for wound care. What food was left was being gathered and dumped into plastic bins.
“Everyone is going, even the elderly women and younger children,” Ham reported a short time later.
“I didn’t order that,” Keith stated. “What’s going on?”
“They all know, boss. Everyone realizes that the choices are simple. Either we move into the caves or die trying. The alternative is a slow, painful death here at the hotel. No one wants that. Everyone understands how important this fight has become. I’ve never seen these people so motivated.”
Keith nodded his understanding, and while the thought of children and the elderly marching out into the desert into a gunfight didn’t sit well with him, he had to respect their “do or die bravado.”
Twenty minutes later, Ham reported that everyone was ready.
As Keith scanned the two columns now formed at The Simpson parking lot, he realized that most military commanders would have to seriously question the sanity of taking such a ragtag looking force into battle.
Keith, however, knew better. He didn’t fixate on the hodgepodge collection of weapons and clothing, nor did his mind fret over the lack of ammunition his troops carried. “George Washington saw worse,” he whispered as he inspected the lines. “Most of his guys didn’t even have boots.”
What Keith saw were heads held high and confidence behind even the most worried mother’s eyes.
Finally assured they were ready, he marched to the front of the formation where he found Jimmy patiently waiting. “Let’s get this done, boss. I need a bath tonight.”
Laughing, Keith waved his hand forward. “Let’s go people. Tonight, we drink our fill and breathe clean air.”
The two sentries escorting Jack through the maze of cavern trails were both armed. One of them sported at least 20 pounds of muscle on the commander’s lanky frame, the other wiry fellow looked like he needed a gym membership.
Were it not for the pistol securely tucked in the back of Jack’s pants, he would have been approaching desperation. Both that weapon and its implied element of surprise served to keep his heart rate in check.
The commander knew where they were going, his unauthorized scouting of the cave system having already discovered the room full of mattresses. Cisco had no intention of being locked inside with the stinking porta-potties and the other debris from the human trafficking operation.
He also had the advantage of knowing the route the two guards were taking. Despite being created for the public at large, the manmade path was still uneven in places. As they continued to wind down into the bowels of Carlsbad, Jack’s mind was busy anticipating each bend, turn, and dip.
For their part, the two men assigned to deny Jack freedom were not professionals.
The commander noticed that they didn’t always maintain proper spacing, and the man behind him had even accidently bumped into Jack at one point.
Coiling at every sharp turn and blind spot, Jack waited for his chance. At each opportunity, whether by luck or circumstance, there seemed to be some reason why “now” wasn’t the right time. Before long, the commander realized he was quickly running out of options.
The three men had almost reached the hidden passage leading to the padlocked rooms when Jack spotted the perfect location. One of the trail lights had evidently burned out up ahead, plunging the narrow passage into nearly complete darkness.
Deliberately slowing his pace, Jack allowed the man behind him to catch up slowly. The commander’s ears were tuned on the guard’s footfalls while his eyes bored into the leader’s back. He needed the guy behind him close, the man in front a comfortable distance away.
Jack pretended to trip over a stone and at the same moment barked a painful sounding, “Shit!”
As the ranger behind him stepped forward to help what he thought was an injured prisoner, Jack’s leg shot out in the darkness, kicking the guard directly in the Achilles tendon with considerable force.
The blow caused the trailing ranger to stumble, and by the time he recovered, Jack was behind him and shoving Carmen’s pistol in his ear.
“Drop the weapon, or your friend loses considerable grey matter,” Jack hissed at the lead sentry. “I just want to get my bike and get out of here. No need for anybody to die today.”
Jack sensed hesitation in the lead ranger’s eyes, the pistol pointing in the commander’s direction far from steady. Cisco kept talking.
“Seriously, dude, I don’t want to hurt anybody. I just don’t want to join a fight that I don’t believe in. Just put down that pea shooter and let me go. You have my word as an officer and gentlemen of the United States military that I won’t harm a hair on your heads.”
“Do it, Steve,” added the man who felt Jack’s barrel up against his temple. “It ain’t worth either one of us getting killed.”
Common sense finally registered with the younger ranger. With a heavy sigh, he pointed his firearm skyward and then slowly bent and placed the weapon on the path.
Jack waited until the man had risen with his hands in the classic ‘don’t shoot,’ position before shoving his captive forward. In a swift movement, the commander bent and scooped up the surrendered weapon before motioning his two prisoners to continue down the path.
Less than a minute later, Jack and his captives entered the secret passage. The commander knew one of his escorts had a padlock in his pocket, and before long the guards were locked up tight in the porta-potty cell. “It’s not the Ritz, but it does feature indoor plumbing … of a sort,” he quipped, double-checking the lock with a tug.
As he walked past the first room that had been secured on his first visit, Jack noted that the lock was no longer in place. With his pistol pointed up in the air, Cisco pushed open the heavy, steel door and cautiously peered inside. It was empty. Eerily vacant.
“What the hell?” Jack whispered, fully expecting to have encountered rows of mattresses or piles of illegal narcotics. “What did Norval store in this room? What did he move out of here? Why?”
Having neither the time nor the inclination to solve this mystery, Jack shrugged and hustled off. While Carlsbad Caverns contained the perfect backdrop for survival, her inhabitants made the location far less desirable. Time to shake the dirt off his boots and head on his way. He was looking forward to seeing his bike, and while he couldn’t scratch behind its ears, the commander thought he might pet the frame.
The north entrance was a narrow, seldom-used split in the surrounding desert rocks. Other than a slightly packed path of san
d, there wasn’t a single hint that the opening led to one of the largest cave systems in the world.
Again, Keith felt that luck was with his camp. All the other attempts he and his men had made to breach the rangers’ defenses had required the attackers to cross a broad, open section of ground. This unfriendly terrain had enabled Norval’s henchmen to detect their presence and as well as provide lethal fields of fire.
The north entrance was a different story. Crags, boulders, and outcroppings rose nearby from the desert floor and provided excellent cover.
Lowering his binoculars, Keith smiled at Ham. “About the only problem I can see is the actual mouth of the cave. It’s less than a dozen feet across – a fatal funnel if we don’t execute this correctly.”
“That’s how I’d defend it,” Ham replied. “Let us get close, bunch us up in the narrow spot, and then turn on the buzz saw.”
Grunting at his friend’s description, Keith then smiled. “Fortunately for us, we’ve brought along our secret weapon.”
Ham scanned the surrounding stones before answering, “Yup, and the wind is just right. Ready, boss?”
“Let’s do this.”
From behind their perch, Ham waved first to the left and then to the right, his signal anticipated by over a dozen pairs of eyes.
Rifle barrels appeared from several nooks and gaps in the rocks. In unison, they began firing into the opening.
No sooner had the first volley slammed into the stone façade, than dense, dark smoke began to spiral skyward from behind a nearby formation of boulders.
As bullets continued to pepper the cave opening, two men with ropes scurried from behind the hefty rock formation towing what appeared to be a king-sized tumbleweed behind them. The huge, twisted ball of dry mesquite and oak scrub was ablaze, the red flames and thick haze forming a tail behind the sprinters.
Ten feet from the north entrance, both men suddenly stopped, flinging the flaming sphere of firewood toward the opening.
The scorching orb crackled and spit fire as it bounced along the stone path entrance, momentum coupled with the wind pushing it into the cave just as Ham had predicted.
Using the cover of the smoke to approach, two groups of armed then rushed toward the entrance, their faces covered by the plastic masks Keith and his construction crew had used to remove asbestos from the hotel.
With weapons held high, they stormed in behind the flaming ball and began firing.
“Time for us to go earn our pay,” Ham said, chambering a round into his rifle.
“Let’s do it. Let’s show these people why we make the big dollars,” Keith agreed, working the action on his 12-gauge pump.
Commander Cisco chose his escape route carefully and purposefully. No need to rush. After all, Norval would be distracted and his captors would be enjoying the human trafficking way station accommodations for a bit. Jack figured his bicycle would be exactly where he’d last seen it. On the way, he needed to stop by Norval’s office and retrieve his ammunition and magazines before making his escape.
As he made his way to the upper levels, sounds of the battle began to drift through the caves. While he couldn’t be sure of exactly where the fight was occurring, Jack was sure he could find an exit that wasn’t embroiled in a firefight.
Twice the commander had to duck into a nearby crevice or nook, alerted to the presence of approaching rangers by the heavy pounding of scurrying boots.
Jack was given the impression that the passing men weren’t looking for him. Given the urgency of their pace, they seemed to be rushing toward the distant skirmish.
He found Norval’s office empty and experienced a brief moment of disappointment. I’ve always heard there is nothing as expensive as a missed opportunity, he mused. Had I acted sooner, I might have simplified everyone’s lives and rid the world of a criminally insane despot in training.
The key to the metal storage cabinet was right where Carmen had said it would be, and for a moment, Jack wondered where the temptress was. “She’s a survivor,” Jack whispered, opening the lock. “She’ll be just fine.”
Jack located his ammo and quickly began stuffing his pockets with his gear. After all of his belongings were removed, he decided Norval owed him for saving his worthless hide and grabbed a box of .556 as compensation. It was still a long way to Texas, and a man just never knew.
Loaded down with ammo, Jack hustled out and made a beeline for the chamber where his bike and pack were stored.
Jogging along the stone path, the commander noted the clamor of the battle growing louder. As he passed the last intersection, the sound of shouting voices drove the commander to cover.
Diving prone behind a relatively flat section of rock, Jack held his breath as several men converged at the crossroads less than 15 feet away. Norval’s booming voice effortlessly overrode the rumbling firefight beyond. “Everything ready?” the tin pan dictator bellowed.
“I believe so, sir. We just finished setting the charges per your instructions,” the novice ammunitions handler answered excitedly.
Charges? Jake thought. What the hell are they talking about? Explosives?
“Is there something else? Do you have a question for me?” Ranger Pickett snapped, sensing some hesitancy among his ranks.
“Well, sir … it’s just … I have never set a charge that large before,” the nervous fellow began. “What if I didn’t construct it just right? That’s quite a big bomb, sir. And I am just concerned it might take down the entire cavern, sir.”
Norval pivoted sharply and stared directly into his recruit’s eyes. “Are you saying,” he began, “that you question the safety of this operation, young man?”
So intense was the head ranger’s glare that that the bomb maker shrank in fear. “Oh, no sir! Not at all, sir! My only concern is in my own ability to execute your directive correctly, sir.”
“Good!” Norval acknowledged.
“Tell the men to prepare to fall back to the secondary position. We’ll let them into the main chamber and then detonate the explosives. Let’s see how Mr. Meyer and his cutthroats like being buried under a couple thousand tons of rock.”
Ranger Pickett’s other soldier wasn’t so sure. “Sir, are you aware they have their women and children right behind their shooters? If we let them in and then collapse the cave’s roof, they will be crushed, too.”
“That’s not our issue,” Norval countered. “They were going to die anyway. We’ll be saving them a lot of pain and trauma.”
Jack stayed still as Pickett and his men moved away, their voices fading into the din of the distant battle. The commander was stunned over what he had just heard, the cold, cruel logic of Norval’s plan shaking Cisco to his core.
Finally thinking it might be safe to stand and continue to this bike, Jack vacillated, trying to make sense of it all. “Why can’t people understand we all need to pull together, now more than ever?” he whispered to the dark cavern. “Why do we keep on killing each other in droves? Didn’t Yellowstone teach us anything about the value of life?”
It took him a moment to realize that he was troubled by something far deeper than the questions of humanity and good versus evil. It dawned on Jack that what was really eating at his insides was the survival of the species, and what the future would bring if people like Norval were allowed to thrive.
“You’ve been struggling with this since you left San Diego,” he admitted. “The vicious tribes of the youth and the war at the church … the lumberjacks in Pinemont … the cannibals in Prescott. What will our world be like if these dark forces win? They bring no hope. The offer no future. It is a much bigger issue than simple scruples, ethics, or morality … right versus wrong.”
With those words echoing through his mind, Jack stopped and inhaled deeply. He had to put a stop to this. It might be a small example in an unimportant part of the world, but somebody had to step up. Wasn’t that what he had always been about? Wasn’t that why he had joined the military and sworn to serve his country?
Jack continued on, increasing his pace to a fast jog. He was still heading for his equipment, but his bike was no longer at the forefront of his thought. The commander wanted his rifle.
For the first time since the eruption, Keith was winning.
The information they had gathered from the spy was proving to be accurate, his forces moving into the north entrance with less resistance than had been anticipated. That, and their little trick with the rolling ball of fire seemed to be achieving results.
Joe and Ham’s teams had taken the entrance, and now it was Keith and Jimmy’s job to exploit the opening. They had punched a hole in Norval’s seemingly impenetrable fortress. It was time to pour through and expand the beachhead.
With his 12-gauge high against his shoulder, Keith rushed past the first line of assaulters. He noted Ham’s men looked dirty and tired, but their heads were high, and their eyes were clear. “We’re winning,” they all wanted to say, but it wasn’t time to celebrate just yet.
With eight men in a line behind him, Keith darted to the next cover, an outcropping of stone that led into what appeared to be a massive chamber.
At the edge of his vision, the brawny man spotted movement, the flash of a green uniform. Keith’s shotgun was there a nanosecond later, sending 11 pellets at 1700 feet per second screaming at the target.
Before the recoil had faded, Keith racked another shell into the chamber, the scattergun’s muzzle sweeping ahead for more work. Despite his size, Meyer stayed on the balls of his feet, took small steps, and constantly kept his head turning as if it was on a swivel.
Three steps from his goal, a bullet whizzed past his head, the sound like a vicious dog’s jaws snapping shut. Without thought or command, Keith’s body instantly calculated the angle and split the air with another load of buckshot. This time there was feedback, a scream of agony telling the former paratrooper he had hit his mark.
A wall of gunfire now rained from the big room, Keith and his team scrambling and diving the last few feet to the salvation of their cover.
