“Look Captain, I know you don’t want to lose any people. But that’s the business we’re in, combat. We kill people. That’s our job. It comes with certain occupational hazards.”
“Like death,” Livingston said.
“I know you’re all gung-ho and have no issue sending men in to die. But I’d like to avoid if it all possible,” Sheffield said.
Sarge leaned forward. “You think I’m cavalier! You think I don’t know the cost of this!” He jumped to his feet and pointed an accusatory finger at Sheffield. “How many fucking graves have you dug! In recent days we’ve buried some of ours, how many of your people have died here!”
Sheffield held his hands up. “Look Top, I’m not saying you don’t care. I’m sorry. I know you guys have carried the brunt of the loss here. The only deaths we’ve had were from illness. But this is going to be a terrible deal. People are going to die. I just want to make sure we do all we can to limit it. Maybe we should wait a while.”
Sarge asked, “Have you been listening to the radio?”
Sheffield looked at Livingston, who shrugged. Looking back at Sarge, he said, “What radio?’
Pointing at me, Sarge said, “Fill him in on what you’re hearing Morgan.”
I leaned over the table, resting my elbows on it. “I’ve been listening to radio transmissions late at night coming from the Radio Free Redoubt. They say the Russians and Chinese are sending troops here. The UN Security Council rejected a resolution to send peacekeepers, but the President supposedly asked for help from the Chinese and Russians, and they said they’re going to act unilaterally and send them.”
The statement stunned Sheffield and his assembled officers. Sheffield was visibly shaken and slumped back into his chair. A lieutenant leaning against the wall behind him said, “What the fuck?”
“Yeah, what the fuck? The Russians and Chinese are sending boots. Here?” Livingston asked.
Sarge took on a softer tone. “So, you see, Captain, there is some urgency involved. We have to dislodge these assholes before the commies show up. They haven’t tried much action here in town because they are obviously afraid of your force. But you let them get a bunch of commie support and heavy weapons and they’ll roll over you like a fat kid on a candy bar.”
“What about your higher up? Can they offer any help?” Livingston asked.
Sarge sat back down. “I’ve asked and I’m waiting for a response. I’ve asked for two Apaches. We don’t know the whole picture yet. I’ve also asked for a clarification on the intel. Again, I’m waiting for a response.”
“What the hell are we going to do? We can’t fight the Chinese and Russians,” Livingston said.
Dalton had been standing in the back of the conference room leaning against the wall. He’d been quiet up to now, saying nothing, just taking it all in. Now he stepped forward and slammed his fist down on the table, actually spilling Sarge’s coffee.
“Shit, Dalton!” Sarge barked.
But Dalton had something on his mind. “What would you have, you curs? That would have neither peace nor war. One affrights you, one makes you proud!”
Sheffield pointed at Dalton. “Who the hell are you?”
“Oh, that’s Dalton,” I replied.
Dalton straightened up and tucked his hands into his vest. “This is ugly business, but it’s necessary business. Like Sarge here said, we need to deal with this now, while we stand a chance.” He pointed towards the door. “You let these people get reinforced and we’ll have a hell of a time dealing with them.” He pointed now at Livingston. “You asked how we’ll deal with them? The same way the Afghans did. The same people we lost troops to. People living a near stone-age existence. You took an oath to defend this country against all enemies, foreign and domestic. You going to allow your fear to break your oath and resolution like a twist of rotten silk? I am not afraid. I will fight! And if you are consumed with fear, get you home, you fragments!”
Livingston looked at me wide-eyed, “Where the hell did you find this guy?”
“He came nosing around one night and Morgan fed him. Now he won’t leave,” Sarge said. “But he’s right. Sure, we’ve had a hard time up to now. It ain’t been easy. But there’s an avalanche of shit headed our way and we need to squash these turds at the Elk’s Camp before it arrives.”
Sheffield reached and pulled out the large drawing Ted and Mike had made of the camp. “Let’s go over this again.”
The plan was fairly simple. Our group would move in from the north and act as a blocking force. Though we’d only be fourteen in number, it was the best we could do. Sarge had thirty-four rounds for the sixty millimeter mortar. It was a mixed lot of high explosive and phosphorus rounds, the latter being particularly nasty. Mike would be positioned on the west side of the camp where their vehicles were laagered. Any truck that attempted to move would be taken out with the Gustav. But we wanted the trucks, or as many of them as we could capture.
When the mortar rounds started falling, the Guard would race down highway 450 and hit the main entrance and assault through the camp, pushing them towards our position on the north side. It would be up to us to either kill them or fix them in their position so the Guard could advance and destroy them. But it was a big place, and I’m certain Murphy would be out there slinking around somewhere.
“You’re going to have a pretty thin line on the north side,” Livingston said.
Sarge nodded. “We are. But we’re going to make up for it with accuracy and volume of fire. I’ll have three machinegun emplacements out there, as well as marksmen. Our people are pretty proficient now.”
Sheffield stood up. “I don’t think any of us are looking forward to this, but it certainly has to be done. And if what Morgan is saying is true, then we absolutely have to do it now.” He looked at Sarge. “Top, I hope your people get back to you soon. Our timetable really hinges on that. If they’re going to be able to help, then they’ll drive the schedule. As soon as you hear anything, let me know.”
Sarge nodded. “You’ll know as soon as I do.”
“Alright then. Once we hear back, we’ll meet again to finalize the plan.”
With the meeting over, we filed out of the room. Livingston came up behind me and tugged on my sleeve. “A word?” He said, nodding his head towards his office.
I followed him in and he shut the door behind me as I took a seat. “What’s up?” I asked.
He motioned with his chin in the direction of the door. “Where’d that guy Dalton come from?”
“Like the old man said, he wandered in one night and never left. He’s been around a while now. I like him. During the last attack on our place he jumped right in. Didn’t hesitate.”
“Just curious. Seems like an odd sort.”
I laughed. “You don’t know the half of it. He speaks several languages. He’s some kind of badass when it comes to blades from what I’ve seen, and he has some pretty good skills. Hell, he built a forge and made some tomahawks.”
Livingston tilted his head. “Sounds like a good man to have on your side. But the reason I wanted to talk with you is Shane said you were looking for a judge. He came to us for help and the Captain tasked me with it. We’ve had someone come into town with a group of folks. He claims to have been pretty politically connected. The guy seems pretty educated and acts as the leader of the group. Thought you might want to talk to him.”
“Yeah. I want someone who can handle the civilian legal issues. It’s just not right that I, as the Sheriff, have to deal with handing down punishment. We need a third party.”
“They’ve occupied the old barber shop by the park,” Livingston said.
“The one on Bay Street right there in front of the park?” I asked. He nodded. “I’ll go round up Shane and Sean and have a talk with him. They’ll be as much a part of it as I am.”
Liv
ingston stood up. “Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything.”
The trucks pulled to a stop under the old oak trees that bordered the plowed field. People started climbing out as soon as they stopped. The three chain gang members, Robert, Aaron and Dave Rosa rode in the back of a Hummer with their guards. The chain made it difficult for the three men to extricate themselves from the truck, but they eventually managed it.
Once out, one of the Guardsmen with the name Wallner on his name tag, ordered them into a line. Looking at Robert, he said, “Alright, from what I heard this morning, you’re here for stealing a pig.”
The other guardsman with the name tag Lindsay laughed. “Big time criminal.”
Wallner pointed to Dave, “You’re here for killing your girlfriend.” Then he pointed to the third man, “and you’re here for setting a fucking bomb in the park with your partner.”
Dave looked at Aaron. “You son-of-a-bitch! My cousin was hurt real bad because of that!”
Without warning, he punched the man in the mouth, knocking him down. He leapt on top of him and the two men began to roll around on the ground. Wallner and Lindsay grabbed them and tried to pull them apart. When a hand hit Wallner in the face, he stepped back and used the butt of his carbine to deliver a couple of blows to each man. He hit Dave between his shoulders, causing him to fall off the other man. And as the man tried to get to Dave, he was struck in the stomach. Both men lay on the ground dealing with their pain. Robert tried to stay out of the way; and when Wallner looked at him, he quickly raised his hands and turned his head, closing his eyes tight for the blow he fully expected.
“That’ll be enough of that shit!” Wallner shouted. “You assholes were told this morning that if one of you got hurt you’d have to carry his ass around with you! So knock it off!” He stuck a finger in Dave’s face. “And you got no room to talk! You killed your girlfriend for Christ’s sake! You’re just as big a piece of shit as he is!”
Cecil was gathering people together around his tractor. He was standing on the seat whistling to get everyone’s attention. Wallner looked down at the two men. “Now get on your feet and move!” Wallner and Lindsay ushered the three men over just as Cecil began to speak.
“Alright folks, quiet down so we can go over what we have to do!” Cecil shouted. The group did so. Cecil smiled broadly. “Good morning! Thank you all for coming out. I’ve got to be honest, I didn’t think we’d get this kind of turnout.”
A voice from the crowd shouted, “It ain’t gonna grow itself!”
“No it ain’t!” Cecil shouted back. “Any of you folks have any gardening or farming experience?”
Several hands went up and Cecil questioned them about their skills. He was pleased to learn there was a considerable amount of experienced growers in front of him. He also noticed he had a decidedly older crowd. Nearly all these people were over thirty probably, and many of them far older than that. He made a mental note of that. He let the group divide itself up into work parties with one of the experienced men or women as its head.
Once the groups were sorted, they discussed what they had to plant and let the heads of the groups pick what they wanted to oversee. It only made sense to let people grow what they knew how to. It was also a very easy process as everyone was eager and excited about getting crops into the ground. A discussion was then held as to where individual crops would be planted, and some were agreed upon to be delayed. This would be a summer garden, so there was no sense in wasting seeds by planting fall crops.
From the back of one of the trucks, Cecil started pulling buckets out. The seeds were distributed out to the groups, and they quickly moved out into the field. Soon, one end of the field was covered with people as they went to the task of first raking the grass roots and other weeds out of the turned soil. Here again, things went smoothly with the people deciding amongst themselves who would do what. The chain gang was taken to the middle of the field and put to work on three rows. They were given rakes and instructed to pull the grass out.
As the field was prepared, the grass and other weeds were piled between the rows. Cecil had rounded up several wheelbarrows. Some of the younger men would use them to collect the debris and carry it off the field. But it wouldn’t go to waste. Cecil designated a spot for it to be piled up to be turned into compost.
Cecil moved about the field for the part of the morning until everyone was sorted out and things were happening efficiently. Then he picked up his shuffle hoe and went to work on a row where Thad was busy raking grass out.
While the people worked the field, the Guardsmen set up a tent and arranged their camp. From now on, it would be manned at all times. Partly to keep people out and partly for animals. There was an expectation that as things progressed, deer and other animals could become a happy problem. Anything that ventured into the field would end up in a cook pot.
After finding Shane and Sean, I rode to the barbershop with Sarge and Dalton. As I pulled up in front of the old brick building, I saw something that surprised me. Something I hadn’t seen in a long time. Sitting in a barber’s chair on the sidewalk under the awning was a portly man. Fat would better describe him. Not something I was used to seeing now with so many hungry people around. There were two other men standing behind him, flanking either side. In a weird way he looked like a pauper king.
“Look at this turd,” Sarge said as I shut the truck off. He looked over at me. “This is your judge?”
Looking at the man, I replied, “Livingston said he wanted me to talk to him. We’ll see.”
We got out and approached the man, who didn’t bother getting up. Not only was he round, but he also wore his pants too high for my taste. I always found it strange when someone pulled their pants up too high. Doing so put his belt buckle on the top of his belly. And unlike most people today, instead of taking their belts in, he’d obviously let his out a couple of notches. He wore a small straw hat and was fanning himself with a paper fan.
He smiled brightly as we approached. “Good morning. You must be Sheriff Carter.” He offered his hand, but I had to lean over the foot rest of the chair to shake it.
“I am. And you are?”
“Name’s Hyatt Hound. You gentlemen may recognize it from the company that bore my initials, H&H Insurance.”
I shook my head. “Never heard of it.”
He frowned at my reply. “It was a major concern here in Florida. Though we were predominately engaged in major business, so I can see how someone like yourself wouldn’t know of it.”
Sarge and I looked at one another. I could already see those caterpillars on his brow inching towards one another. Looking back at him, I replied, “I always looked at insurance like I did lawyers.”
Smiling as he fanned himself, he asked, “And how was that?”
“Fucking thieves,” Sarge spat.
Chuckling, Hyatt replied, “Most people don’t understand the value of mitigating risk of unforeseen events.”
“Yeah, how’d that work out for you with this unforeseen event?” I asked.
“No one could have foreseen this,” Hyatt replied.
“I did,” I said flatly.
With a dismissive wave, Hyatt said, “None of that matters now. I hear you’re looking for a judge for this small town. I would be happy to act in such capacity. Of course we’d have to discuss remuneration.”
“Remuneration, huh?” Sarge asked in a sarcastic tone.
Still fanning himself, Hyatt replied, “Well naturally. A position, especially one as prestigious as county judge will come with proper compensation.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I was asked to come talk to you about your interest. But you’re the first person we’ve talked to and there will have to be some discussion on the issue.”
Hyatt stopped fanning. “I was under the impression you were the o
ne to make this decision. And I found it odd that a Sheriff would pick a judge whom he would ultimately be subordinate to.” This guy was getting on my nerves.
“You talk like a forked-tongue lawyer. I hate lawyers. Hell’s full of ‘em,” Sarge said.
One of the men standing behind him said, “That’s no way to speak to Mr. Hound.”
Sarge cut his eyes at the man. “No one’s talking to you, dickhead.”
The man made a movement and Sarge quickly said, “If you’re raising your hand, it better be to ask a question. Anything else is going to make you bleed.”
Hyatt raised his hand. “It’s alright, Albert. Gentlemen, please. This is a civil negotiation. There’s no need for harsh words.”
“Negotiation?” Shane asked.
Fanning himself, Hyatt replied, “It only makes sense that someone of my stature will be judge.” Looking at Sarge, he said, “And yes sir, I am indeed a member in good standing of the Florida Bar association. That alone should afford me considerable deference. I find it hard to believe there would be another in this meager town that could possibly be more qualified than I.”
“The Florida Bar Association no longer exists. That’s a moot point,” I said.
Hyatt chuckled. “Dear sir, I can assure you that one of the most important aspects of reestablishing a civilized life is getting the Bar Association back to functioning.”
“Where did you come from?” Sarge asked.
“We’ve traveled here from Boca Raton. Sadly, I had to leave behind my beloved museum, which I also curated. We’ve been looking for a suitable place that would recognize the considerable talents we bring.”
Sarge looked at Albert. “And what talents do you bring?”
The man bristled slightly. “I’ll defer to Hyatt.”
“Defer to Hyatt!” Sarge barked.
“Please sir,” Hyatt started. “I didn’t get your name.”
Avenging Home Page 20
