Shelter: Book 2, A Long Days Night

by Ira Tabankin

  “I want a share of the food and beer.”

  “Fuck off and die. I’ll share what’s in the safe with you, if you help us find it, but not the food.”

  Both men are thinking they’re going to shoot the other when they find the safe. The men enter the basement which has been stripped and searched, many times over by Dutch’s men. The sheriff stands in the middle of the basement shining his flashlight into every inch of the basement, “Where the fuck is the safe?”

  “I told you it wasn’t here.”

  “You lie, you must have opened it and found a way to dispose of the empty safe.” The sheriff aims his gun at Dutch.

  “Bullshit, I told you there was no safe down here. Why would I bring you here if I had already emptied it?”

  “I think you’re screwing with me and I don’t like being screwed with.” BANG BANG. The sheriff turns off his flashlight while dropping to the floor and rolling to his left. The men behind the Sheriff open fire at the spot the sheriff had been standing. He aims and fires at the muzzle flashes, hitting two of the club, the third spun around to run upstairs, he runs into the sheriff’s men who kill him. The sheriff flashes his light three times to let his people know he’s coming up so they don’t shoot him. “Boss, did you find the safe?”

  “No, the basement was empty, nothing but empty beer and food cans. I bet the assholes already emptied the safe. Did you leave anyone alive?”

  “A couple upstairs in case you needed to question them.”

  “Good thinking, go upstairs and bring them down. We’ll make them tell us where the safe is.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Fifteen minutes later twelve men and women are pushed to their knees in front of the sheriff. “One of you is going to tell me what I want to know. I’m going to start at my left. I’m going to put a bullet into every one of you until one of you decides you want to live and tells me what I want to know. Are you ready?”

  Jose, pleads, “Look, sheriff, we don’t know nothing. Dutch has been pushing us every day to find anything of value and the owners of the house. We never found any safe, we tore the walls open, we dug up the yard around the house. We looked for the owners everywhere. We never found a trace of them. We were fighting them, they exploded smoke bombs when the smoke cleared they were gone. Man, I’m telling you the truth. One minute they were shooting the hell out of us and the next they were gone, poof, gone with the smoke.”

  “Bullshit, no one can disappear. I know the owner, he’s not the type of person to run, he has to be here.”

  “Then you find him because we spent weeks and didn’t find shit.”

  “Then why do I need you?” The sheriff turns to his men, “Guess we have no use for these assholes, you know what to do.”

  Jose yells, “Sheriff, wait. You’re the law. You can’t just kill us. What about our rights? Where’s our lawyer? Don’t we get a trial? You can’t do this!”

  “I’m not doing it. Shoot them.”

  A moment later the Son’s of the Devil MC are with their father in hell.

  The sheriff kicks some empty brass out of his way thinking, if I was Jay, where would I have gone? Where would I hide? It has to be close. It has to be someplace that I could keep an eye on my house. Wait, the last time I was here I saw a large hole in the field, wish I could remember where in the field. He must have a bunker out there. I’ll come back with some metal detectors. Jay, I’m going to find you and get what’s mine.

  Chapter 12

  As we’re walking towards the door of the shelter, we stop mid-step, wincing from the blaring alarm. We look at each other trying to figure out what’s going on. Todd says, “Dad, what’s wrong?”

  “Todd, that’s the alarm alerting us that someone is trying to open the door. We didn’t see anyone outside that got close to the door, it must be someone from inside trying to get out. Who would be that stupid?”

  Todd’s face turns bright red, “Dad, Ricky, it has to be Ricky. He won't stop fuming about getting out of this ‘bargain basement’, as he calls it. He wants to demand that either you move us home or he will open the door and leave.”

  “Shit! John, Todd thinks it's Ricky, I’m sending Todd to run ahead and check the doors.”

  Todd begins running towards the door. John works on the alarm panel, it is essential that the alarm stop blaring or none of us will be able to think. The siren is deafening. “John, hurry and get that damned thing turned off so I can think.”

  “Jay, just one moment more. There I got it.” The shelter is again filled with silence. Our ears are still buzzing like a swarm of cicadas infiltrated our hideaway, as we grab our guns and run toward the entrance door. A fraction of a second after the alarm stopped, we’re overcome with voices of our shelter mates who are running in our direction. Fred and Franco are the first to reach us, Franco asks, “Jay, what’s going on? Has someone broken in?”

  Trying to speak while running and carrying my rifle and equipment is harder than I remember it. I’m out of practice. I didn’t design a gym into the shelter. If I survive tonight, I’m going to close hallways for wind sprints. “Franco no, I think someone is trying to break out.”

  Franco responds, running ahead of me, damn I hate the young, youth is wasted on them, they don’t know how lucky that are, nor do they realize the gifts they have. Fred says, “Jay, why would anyone do that? They’ll lead the mob right to us. They’ll get us all killed. That’s crazy!”

  Panting as I’m trying to pull out the last degree of speed, “I know, which is why we have to get to the doors ASAP.”

  A minute later, just before the last turn before the front door, I hear Todd’s voice, “Ricky stop it or I’ll shoot you!”

  I’m thinking, Damn Ricky, I should have kept someone on guard at the door, not to keep the mob and MC out, but to stop any of us from leaving. Somewhere inside me I knew Ricky might try to leave. I should have followed my gut. Damn it, if he opens the door without disarming it, he’s going to cause us many problems. If he gets outside, he’s going to lead the mob to us. He could get us all killed. He could ruin all of our plans. Maybe I was stupid in inviting him here. I should have left him at his home. If Todd or I don’t shoot him, I’m going to have to figure out a way to deal with him. “Todd, if possible don’t shoot him. We shouldn’t kill any of us. It’ll hurt all of us.”

  “Dad, I’m holding him on his knees with my gun to his head. Why do you take all the fun out of everything?”

  “Todd, I really hope that was your poor attempt at a joke.” I slide around the last corner panting for air. Ricky is on his knees with a bloody gash on his forehead. He’s glaring at Todd and I. He looks at us saying, “Screw both of you. I don’t want to stay here any longer. My room is too small, the food sucks, the place smells, I’m bored, there has to be more to life than this. I want out, I want to breathe and smell fresh air. I want to feel the sun on my face. All I was going to do was open the door to smell the fresh air, see the grass. I want to feel the sun on my face. Is that a crime? Would you really shoot me for that? If you would, you should be on your knees and under arrest. You’re the crazy ones here. Jay, you’re holding people against our will, that’s kidnapping. It’s a federal offense, I promise you when we leave here I’m calling the FBI and swearing a warrant against you.”

  Looking at Ricky with hate in my eyes, I say, “Ricky, you’re an idiot. First of all it is night time, the sun is not outside this door right now. Second, if you had gotten the door open, the mob above us could have found us. Then they would swarm in here and kill many of us, they could have overwhelmed us and taken our supplies. You could have condemned your daughter, my granddaughter, to her death. Did you even consider that? The most likely result would have been, you’d have opened this door, gone into the next chamber, because you don’t know the PIN, booby traps would have exploded killing you. Cleaning up what’s left of you would have been a job and a half.”

  “You’re so full of shit. I know how well you hid the entrance, I know the p
eople above us most likely wouldn’t see me. The odds are in my favor. It’s dark out there, no one would see me. I’d make sure there were no lights behind me when I opened the door. If you’re going to ask me to promise not to try again, my answer to you is go screw yourself. I won’t promise not to try again, only next time I’ll succeed. I don’t believe you booby-trapped the entrance.”

  Shaking my head, “No, you won’t. Are you aware we do have a sort of jail?”

  “Jay, cut the bullshit. No, you don’t. I too have checked out every inch of this stupid shelter, if there were a room used as a jail, I would have seen it.”

  Laughing, “No you wouldn’t, it’s been in front of your eyes all the time. The room is labeled ‘Storage’. Storage for those who try to break our rules. You’re going to be getting an up close and personal view of the jail.”

  “Bullshit.”

  I lift my handheld radio, “John, please grab three armed people and meet me by the main front door. We have our first visitor for the storage room.”

  “On the way.”

  “Jay, my knees are beginning to cramp, can I get up?”

  “Wait until I place these zip-ties on your wrists.”

  “Jay, you are certifiable, you’re crazy. You can’t arrest me, you can’t imprison me, you’re not a police officer. In fact, I can’t wait till we get out of here so I can watch the sheriff arrest you! I’m sure he’s going to enjoy busting you.”

  “Ricky, do you have any idea what’s going on? Do you have any idea of the risk you almost placed all of us in? If I told everyone else what you were trying to do, they might rip you apart. They understand the reality of our situation. They can see reality which is much more than I can say about you.”

  Before I finish, John, Franco and his sons turn the corner and approach us. They are all armed and wearing body armor. Franco says, “Jay, we’ll take him from you. You’re too close to him. If you lay a hand on him, your daughter is never going to forgive you. Why don’t you turn around and leave him with us? You don’t want to look into your daughter’s eyes and have to tell her you killed her husband. Take Todd with you. There’s a rumor that you are going to make a raid tonight, go on your raid and don’t look back.”

  “Franco, I…”

  “Jay, don’t say anything, just leave him with us.”

  “Franco, take him. Lock him up so he can’t put us at risk again.”

  “I promise you, he’ll never place us at risk again.” Leering at Ricky, Franco says, “Will you Ricky?”

  Ricky is pulled up to his feet, “Don’t look at me like that, don’t you dare even look at me, you spike, if you lay a hand on me, I’ll have you arrested too.”

  Franco hits Ricky with the but of his Remington shotgun, “I didn’t touch you, my shotgun did, be happy its’ ass hit you and not the barrel. Be even happier I didn’t pepper your ass with birdshot. You’d be pulling 300 pellets out of your ass for weeks.”

  “If you shoot me, I will have you arrested. I will press charges. I’ll turn your life into a living hell.”

  “My life turned into a living hell the day my wife passed away from cancer. You can’t do anything worse to me. Might makes the rules, since I’m holding the shotgun, I make the rules as it pertains to you.”

  Franco’s sons push Ricky down the hall, “Don’t touch me. Keep your hands off of me. I’m going to sue all of you when we get out of this bargain basement.”

  I hear Franco laughing as they force Ricky down the hall. I look at Todd, “I think you should get John and Tony, it’s time we see what’s going on at my house, continue on with our own raid.”

  “I’ll be right back with them.”

  @@@@@

  The Sheriff’s men drag the bodies out of my house, they line them up in front of my front door with a hand printed note on Dutch, the note is addressed to the mob leaders. They are pissed they didn’t get the food the sheriff promised them. They were promised a large reward for helping the sheriff. They agree to continue helping him for a limited time, reminding him he owes them their reward. The sheriff and his men mount their horses and ride towards the town. The sheriff is thinking he should have set Jay’s house on fire to get even. Then again, a fire could damage his share of whatever is in Jay’s safes.

  @@@@@

  Captain Jefferson, the CO of the USS Missouri is sitting on the bridge thinking about his orders. Why in the world is the President ordering us to pull back? We could have finished them. Nothing they had could hurt the Mo. We’d soften them up for our planes to finish them off. Our saving grace is the battle is going to take place outside the range of their DF 21 missiles. Those damn anti-carrier missiles are nasty. I saw the classified report written by SPAWAR. They don’t think the SM3 will be able to intercept a DF 21, it flies too fast at Mach 10. The report said the only defensive measure is to spoof it. I’m glad they installed the updated SLQ32 units on the old girl. I hope they got the algorithmic right. I have to keep the balance of the battle outside the range of their damned missile. We knew for years they were developing it and our response? Stay out of its range? Hell of a plan. I’d like to meet the egghead who wrote this brilliant battle plan. Stay out of its range. Right, that’s not going to work. Admiral Zin is going to try to pull us into the missile’s range. If we lose our last two mobile carriers, we lose our long-range strike. We’re going to need them, intel has already said Zin is sending reinforcements to replace the ships we sank. Most will be smaller, but much more maneuverable ones. Some genius decided to remove most of our long range anti-ship missiles and rely on our aircraft. Excellent plan, IF the carriers survive. I’m happy someone found 32 of the anti-ship Tomahawks in a warehouse to fit on the Missouri, they’re long gone with no replacements in the resupply ship. My previous orders were to continue pushing until the Mighty Mo is within their battlegroup. I was to open fire at point blank range, sinking as many of their ships as possible. Now we’re being ordered back, I know I shouldn’t have answered my cell when I saw the 703 area code. His thoughts are interrupted by his XO.

  “Captain, new intel reports, SPAWAR thinks Admiral Zin may have installed DF-21 missiles on his new resupply ships, Sir, D.C. thinks the Chinese may have armed the DF-21s with tactical nukes.”

  “XO, that’s just what I needed to hear. The closer we lead our fleet, the more we may be dooming them. Can the Chinese really fire the DF-21 from a moving ship? I don’t buy the report about nukes. The Chinese know if they used one, we’d respond in kind.”

  “Captain, why couldn’t they launch from a ship? We could and have done so. We planned to launch Polaris missiles from ships as a backup in case the SSBNs didn’t work out.”

  “You’re full of good news aren’t you?”

  “We better contact the Admiral to see what his new orders are, now that we’ve been ordered away from the Chinese fleet.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  @@@@@

  Captain Sarnoff found what he called costumes for his men. He broke into different sporting goods stores so he could find the ‘right’ mix he was looking for. He dressed his men in different types of US Military and hunting camo, he mix matched their pants and shirts. He found them tactical vests to wear over their shirts. Each vest held either six or eight AR 15 magazines. His men looked at each other laughing. Nikita said, “Captain, what is with the different uniforms?”

  Sarnoff laughed saying, “We are supposed to be a US militia, these uniforms make us look like one. When our buyers show up for their rifles and ammo, we have to look familiar to them. If we look like foreign troops, there is a good chance they will shoot us.”

  Nikita looked at the men asking, “Why do they not wear matching uniforms?”

  Sarnoff laughs saying, “I have no idea, but from the information Darkenov sent me, this is how we are supposed to look. Make sure everyone has the yellow patches on their right shoulder or on the front of their hats. The ones that say, ‘Don’t tread on me.’”

  Nikita asks, “We are just going to wai
t here for our buyers?”

  “What would you have us do? It was one of your staff’s idea to make the posts on their social network forums, it worked, now we wait for them to show up with our coins. When we leave, we will travel until we reach the town of Pontiac in four hours.”

  One of the Russian noncoms overhears their destination, he asks, “Pontiac, like the cars? Is this where the famous GTOs are made? I have dreamed of this car since I was little boy in Minsk. Can I get one?”

  Nikita slaps the trooper across his face, “Idiot, they built the cars in Detroit. Pontiac went out of business in 09. Obama forced GM to drop the division, so no more GTOs, they use too much gas, their president believes only he can leave big ‘carbon footprint’ with the Air Force One, not ordinary car drivers.”

  Sarnoff says, “I am sorry Alex, the only way you will be able to take one is if we find one on our journey. One that is drivable that we can load with troops and supplies so we do not have to carry everything.”