by C. L. Jones
There was enthusiasm building in Cowboy as he told the Crew, “I think we should move into position tonight. If we get there in time we can take turns sleeping and watching and be in position to strike when the time is right.”
Again Pops looked around at the Crew, “Boy, this just keeps getting better and better, it sounds good to me, what do you all say?” Again each of the team members agreed.
Reestablishing his leadership role, Pops acted like an old platoon sergeant once again. He said, “Well then if there isn’t anything else, I suggest we get enough MRE’s to last a couple days and get ready to head on out to the valley.”
After ten minutes they were ready to go. Pops said, “Hey Cowboy, do you want the point again?” Cowboy shook his head yes, cracked a smile and headed out. He stayed off the path just far enough into the trees so he could have a good view of the path and also a good amount of the wooded area. Every so often he would slip across the road and sweep the other side in the same way. It was a roundabout path to the valley of death but hopefully a safer one for the Crew and the mission.
The Crew took its time, following well behind Cowboy and moving through the woods and underbrush as quietly as possible. After about an hour, Cowboy slowed so he could be seen by the crew. He raised his hand high over his head in a closed fist for the rest of the team to stop. Cowboy quietly headed back to Pops’ position and the team gathered around along the way. The team formed a tight circle around Cowboy and leaned in to hear what he had to say, “I think we’re close. If you all wait here I’ll go on and scout the rest of the area.”
Pops patted Cowboy on the back and then with a nod of his head yes, whispered, “Easy Cowboy. If you’re tired I can send someone else?”
Cowboy shook his head no and quickly darted into the dark through the brush. The rest of the team made a small perimeter and settled in for another wait. Even though Pops was getting accustomed to having the explosives wrapped around his waist like some old money belt he made a quick check of them under his clothing. He kept nervously watching the horizon for any hint of daybreak before Cowboy got back and each time he would breathe a sigh of relief when the horizon remained black.
Several minutes passed without Cowboy’s return and Pops and the team were getting edgy. Cowboy had been gone too long and Pops had hoped Cowboy’s recon would be over before daylight. Pops had a million questions run through his mind in an instant, fueled by his ever-present paranoia. Did Cowboy get caught or was this another setup? Was the team going to walk into a new trap? Would Cowboy be a part of the trap? Was he a plant all along? At this point nothing was outside the realm of being lumped in with the basket of backstabbers and deceivers. Pops shook his head trying to clear his thoughts.
Pops heard someone on the team whisper, “Here he comes. Fingers off triggers.” Pops’ head popped up and he turned in the direction of the noise. He could see Cowboy still crouched down and moving in through the shadows, working his way back to the team.
Pops noticed that Cowboy was soaking wet from head to toe. Cowboy snatched up a canteen as he entered the team’s small perimeter and not wasting a moment, he drank several gulps of water. When he was through drinking he poured some over his head, rubbing the water through his short military hair cut. He shook his head like a dog then looked up at Pops and said, “Right over the rise is a steep hill going down to the river. The hill is in an area where nobody from the blue team can see us from either cliff. I found a place where I crossed over the river and made it without being seen. It’s hard but I made it.” Then he smiled and added, “Both ways.” Everybody got the joke.
“After we make it across the river there is another path running about three miles along the river that ends at the base of the cliff that is on the other side of the river. The river is the only big problem. The path down the steep hill on this side is kind of rough but the one I found on the other side is a walk in the park.” Taking a deep breath in and exhaling just as hard, he told the Crew, “We can come up well behind them and we’ll have the only easy route of retreat. If they want to run, they’ll have to run right at the cliff.” He smiled an evil grin and looked at each of the guys and then said, “Easy targets either way. Guppies in a cup.”
The team crouched down and listened while Cowboy laid out a couple different plans. After a few minutes Pops said, “We don’t have much time before its light, maybe we should get moving.”
Roadside checked his watch and informed the Crew, “We have less than an hour until it starts getting light, but we should have a good two hours before it breaks over the top of the mountains.”
Getting nervous about the shortness of time, Pops told the Crew, “Let’s get over the crest of the hill and down to the river and from there we’ll figure how we’ll attack the rest of the problem. Break off into alpha, bravo and charlie teams and move out. Try to stay close enough so you can see the other teams.”
Pops pulled back the charging arm on his own weapon and let it go so the team would hear him loading up. The team checked their weapons as Pops said, “Lock and load, safeties off.” Pops listened as each man pulled back and let loose the charging arm on their weapon. After one last check of themselves, the weapons and the area, they formed up and moved out on Pops.
Pops kept an eye on Cowboy as the team headed toward the river. He didn’t want to think that he’d been wrong about Cowboy especially after the day at the rocky cliff face when Cowboy had given him the cover time he needed to retrieve the ammo clips. All the same, he thought Cowboy had demonstrated a convincing acting ability so maybe he was acting now? It also struck him strange that every once in a while he could see Cowboy looking back at him. When he caught Cowboy’s glances he thought okay what the hell is going on?
The moon was full and was a welcome help in moving through the forest. However later it could make it easier for the other team to see them which would be a hindrance. It was apparent that Cowboy had memorized every step as he led the Crew towards the river. When they finally reached the hill the three teams converged and took their first view of the steep path down to the river. The Crew stood overlooking the steep slope to the river as Cowboy said aloud, “Hey don’t worry.” Then he gave that country boy smile and in a half way joking manner said, “All for one and one for all, it just took longer than it should have.”
Cowboy looked into Pops’ eyes, “I won’t betray the Crew. You and the guys have my word on that. I’ve been doing this too long alone and it will be good to know people like me have my back.”
Pops turned to him and said, “Not to worry, we all need each other. Even if someone turns and betrays us then one or more of the other crew members will avenge the betrayal. When we took the pledge we were all dead serious.” Then Pops held out his fist looking Cowboy in the eye and waited for a response. Cowboy looked back at Pops and then said, “Here’s my hand, man to man.” Then he reached out his fist and lightly bumped Pops’ closed fist, knuckle to knuckle. Pops watched Cowboy’s eyes, seeing something there but not real sure just what it was. He responded, “Okay then that’s, that.” They both turned back to face their next challenge.
Getting everyone’s attention Surfer spoke up and said, “Best get going.” He pulled the rope over his head and temporarily dropped it to the ground and removed his backpack. He then picked up the rope and turned around and scanned the trees. Seeing what he wanted, he headed towards the tree line and tied the rope off around a sturdy looking tree. Preparing the rope he turned to the Crew and said, “I won’t need the rope to get down so you all go down first using the rope to help you. Then I’ll come down and bring the rope.” He walked to the edge carefully checking the path that the team would be taking then he looked back at the team, “Who’s first?”
No one was surprised when Rocky raised his hand, walked over and took a hold of the rope like a handrail on a staircase. He started down like he was going home after a hard day at work. He hadn’t looked around or said anything so no one told him that the plan was to g
o down backwards almost like repelling. Roadside, Tracker, Pops and Cowboy followed suit but repelled backward in a more normal manner. On the way down each man pointed out any rock, pit holes or anything that could be a stumbling point for the next man.
Pops was concerned about his trip on the slope when he first looked down the hill, particularly with the explosives around his waist. His turn came up and he looked down and saw Rocky and Tracker on the riverbank. Like so many times in his life he would count on the worst and hope for the best. His grandmother had a saying that Pops often remembered in situations like this, “If you are running for the road don’t forget about the ditch.”
Pops reached the bank and waited for Cowboy to join them. The team was looking up the slope waiting for Surfer. Surfer had retrieved the rope and now looked like a ghost figure moving down the hill. At times it was hard to see him because he blended in so well with the side of the hill. It looked as if Surfer was sliding carefree towards the team looking like he was on an escalator or conveyer belt. He made it look easy. His climb down ended as expected and finally the whole team was on the muddy riverbank. It was a piece of crap beach. Everyone stood looking back up the hill with almost the same look on their faces that they’d had when they were looking down the treacherous slope before climbing down.
Surfer acted like he was out on some vacation adventure, calmly winding up the rope as if the path down had not fazed him in the least. Cowboy gathered the team around again and pointed into the darkness down the riverbank and told them, “Not too far down, there is a place where I think the river is not as wide as where we crossed the other day.” Taking a deep breath, he went on with the description of what lay ahead, “I made it and I’m not a very good swimmer or rock climber. There are big rocks and they’re wet and slick but if we take our time it is a lot easier then the way we went about it before.”
Pops circled his hand over his head in a move out gesture, and nodded to Cowboy, “Okay, let’s go.” Cowboy took the lead with Pops right behind him as they headed down the riverbank. Pops recognized that a rest was needed but he knew and the team understood that there was just about enough time for them to get to where they needed to be before sunrise and that was more important. The men had broken into their teams. Rocky and Roadside followed Pops and Cowboy, and Surfer and Tracker brought up the rear. Everyone was still on high alert and not taking anything for granted. Every one of them knew that crossing the waterway was a good place to get caught out in the open.
All Pops thought about during every step along the riverbank was the river crossing and the loss of Flame. He considered tying the rope to each man to navigate the crossing but then thought it was not the best idea because if one man went down it could be like dominoes with the fallen man taking more of the men with him. Cowboy had said the river was not as wide at the new spot so maybe they could tie the rope across the river from tree to tree. He’d just have to wait until they got there to see what to do.
Without any warning Cowboy stopped dead in his tracks and pointed to the river. Pops looked in the direction Cowboy was pointing. The rest of the team stretched out in a line behind Pops also turned to look. Before them were the so called stepping stones that looked like they extended from one side of the river to the other. The waves crashing into the stones were wild causing white foam on the water and mist spinning up from the river in the early morning sky like a rolling cloud of fog. The mist was already soaking into the men’s clothing making the team shiver from the dampness. The sound was loud enough to make it impossible to hear each other. But Cowboy was right about it not being as wide or quite as rough as the place they had crossed the other day when Flame went down.
The Crew retreated a few yards away from the river so they could hear themselves speak. Surprising the rest of the Crew, Tracker looked back to the river and briskly rubbed his hands over his head. Then he looked up and down the line at the others and said, “Man is this a relief. If one of us can make it to the other side then he can tie the rope to a tree on that side and a tree on this side.” He pointed to a large tree on the other side of the river then to another one on their side where they had been standing moments before.
Cowboy spoke up and said, “Well I made it before I guess I can make it again.” Cowboy reached out his hand to Surfer for the rope.
Surfer said, “Here you go. I’m the rock climber not the water boy.”
Cowboy grinned from ear to ear and took the rope. He stood there for a while trying to figure the best way to carry the rope across while it was tied to the tree on this side of the river. He needed to keep his hands free while not letting the rope that trailed behind him drag in the water and throw off his balance. He looked at the team and said in that old military training style, “I made it once I can make it again.” With that he got an encouraging hooha from the Crew.
They tied the rope around the large tree on their side of the river and Cowboy walked to the edge of the water. He put his foot on the first wet rock and moved his boot around on the wet surface trying to find secure footing. Then as if he was going to stand on eggshells he pulled himself up and found his balance. He looked back at the nervous men standing on the riverbank and said, “That’s the hard part.” Then with not quite so big of smile and shrug of his shoulders he told them, “It’s a sidewalk made for kings. Today this forest is our kingdom and we are the kings.”
Cowboy stepped to the next rock with one foot then brought the other foot forward and regained his balance with both feet. He repeated this routine as he crossed the river. A couple times his foot slipped a little and he’d wiggle around and fling his arms out to his side until he regained his balance. Then when he was sure of his footing he’d carefully reach out and take the next step. It seemed like it took ages for Cowboy to work his way across while his friends stood behind on the riverbank holding their breaths. He finally reached safety on the other bank, leaping from the last stepping stone to shore. With one moving spin he turned to the team and took a big theatrical bow. Then quickly untied the rope from his waist and tied it off to the tree they had picked out from the other side. He checked the rope by hanging his full weight on it and once he was sure the rope was secure, he motioned across the river for the next person. One at a time each team member walked to the water’s edge, mounted the rock and hooked their arm over the rope. Rocky, Roadside, Tracker, and Pops made it across with no trouble. Pops’ biggest worry was the C-4 might come loose. It wouldn’t hurt it to get it wet but if he went in, the current might carry it away.
Everyone was safely on the other side except Surfer. The Crew stood on the opposite bank watching him and Pops could see the fear in Surfer’s eyes and actions even from across the river. It was clear that Surfer’s trip would take longer than anyone else simply because Surfer seemed petrified with fear. Pops thought that when Surfer made it to the first rock it would be enough to boost his confidence. Things were going OK until he made it to the second rock where he stood about to lift his foot for the next rock. All of the sudden his feet went flying out from under him and only the rope in his right hand kept him from going into the chilling wild white water of the river. The crew helplessly watched as Surfer held on with his right hand and was flung around like a rag doll fighting for his very survival. The odds were good that he might hit his head on the rocks or let go of the rope while he was being tossed around. Both would certainly cause him to go under. If he was swept downstream he would surely be smashed against the rocks which meant he would probably meet the same fate as Flame.
The Crew ran to the edge of the water, each wanting to go out and help Surfer. But with the rope thrashing around it could have cost them their lives and maybe even Surfer’s life if they tried. The team could not yell any words of encouragement to him in fear that the blue team would hear and that would put the whole team in danger. The only thing they could do was stand there on the river bank twisting, turning and gesturing things to him while they looked like helpless pantomimes. They watched as thei
r new friend fought the good fight.
CHAPTER ELEVEN:
THE REAL LEADER
IS BORN
The Crew could see that Surfer had weakened to the point where he was barely holding on with one hand when Pops made his decision. He turned to the rest of the team and muttered, “Oh shit,” then turned to the rope to head back over the stones into the angry white water again. He reasoned that they had only enough men to get the job done so he couldn’t afford to lose Surfer. Looping his arm around the rope he slowly worked his way back out over the slippery rocks, trying not to yank the rope around too much with his body weight or hinder Surfer’s attempts to pull himself out of the water. He sure didn’t want to make it harder for Surfer to grab the rope with his other hand.
It took Pops twice as long to cross going back out compared to his first crossing. His hands were numb from the icy cold water and his legs were not far behind when he finally reached Surfer. It was the biggest physical workout of his life and he was just about worn out. He had only enough strength to hold on to the rope with his right hand and reach out to Surfer with his left hand. At this point it looked like Surfer was too weak to even attempt to grab Pops. Except for his clinched hand around the rope he was hanging almost lifeless in the water. Surfer looked up at the extended hand of Pops, then at Pops’ face and said, “Don’t risk it Pops, we’ll both go under.”
Pops shoved his free hand down to Surfer as far as he could and sharply snapped at him in a tone he hoped would make Surfer mad enough to reach out, “Don’t piss me off. I didn’t come all the way back out here to say good-by you idiot. The last time I looked we weren’t dating so shut up and just hold on while I get in position and grab your other hand.”
Pops held on with his right hand as tightly as he could, carefully squatted down and managed to hook Surfer’s arm in his after three or four attempts. With what had to be Surfer’s last ounce of strength he grabbed Pops’ arm and held on long enough to be pulled up. Pops thought it must make a great picture. He and Surfer standing together on a rock in the middle of the raging waters, balancing each other and shaking and holding on for dear life. If they weren’t so exhausted under different circumstances they would be smiling and laughing. As it was they were clinched on to each other trying to maintain their balance while holding on to the rope with a death grip like two silent movie characters.
