Okay, so how are you going to handle this one, Sport?
The second guard slammed something on the wall next to him. A siren's wail pierced through the rain as every light in the barracks clicked on.
Good to know.
Jason stepped back, going deeper into the shadows. Satisfied no one saw him, he turned and walked down the dark alley.
Down one alley, up another street, then double back through another street. Jason employed everything he could think of, but it looked like no one had seen him as he made his way to the old garage.
The door was partially up as he slipped through the crack at the bottom. As he walked into what he'd taken to calling the Team Room, the atmosphere was jovial.
"Alright folks, let's settle down."
Everyone found seats and looked at him. "Nice job, everyone. Who took the shot?" Jason asked.
All eyes shifted to Rick. The younger man seemed to demure a touch under all the attention.
"You did?" Jason asked.
Rick nodded.
"Nicely done. Now, tell me what you saw around the guards before you shot?"
The younger man seemed unsure how to answer. Jason sighed, then asked, "The button the survivor hit. Were there two of them?"
"Negative."
"You're sure?" Jason asked.
Rick nodded. "Absolutely."
Al Holliman raised his hand. "I acted as spotter. There wasn't anything. For the record, the button is just on the one wall."
"Good." Jason turned his attention to Yancey. "I've got a job for you."
Yancey looked like a deer in the headlights. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this one?"
"Have I ever steered you wrong?"
"That's a trick question, right?"
** ** **
A knock on the office door snagged Billy's attention. Simon looked back at him as he leaned in the doorway. "You wanted to see me?" the council chairman asked.
Billy nodded. "We've got a problem. Big one."
"Let me guess. Militia."
"Yep."
"We can't create more men with dirt and good intentions. You know that."
Billy nodded once again. "Yeah, I do, but do we really need men?"
"Huh?"
"We've got men, but we don’t have enough. What we need are trigger pullers, right?"
It was Simon's turn to nod.
"So, why does it have to be a man? It only takes a couple pounds of pressure to pull a trigger."
"What exactly are you talking about?"
"We train the women."
Simon opened his mouth, clearly intent on arguing. Unfortunately, the wheels in the chairman's mind were churning. He could do the math as well as Billy could. There just wasn't really any choice.
Slowly, Simon closed his mouth. "How much time?"
The big man shrugged. "No idea. Depends on what they're starting with."
He nodded. "True. Of course, plenty of them fought their way here from somewhere else. That's got to help," Simon said. "The question is, will it be enough?"
"You thinking Conklin's going to pay us another visit?"
Simon nodded. "If Jason does everything he's planning on, his primary mission is to get our people back. He's pissed, but I don't think he'd jeopardize the girls like that. So, if he gets them but doesn't take Conklin down…"
"Then we've got a whole pile of trouble headed this way."
"Exactly. And then we're screwed."
Billy shrugged. "I'm open to suggestions."
The sound of a throat clearing claimed the two men's attention. Sully stood in the hallway leading toward the stairs. "Um…well…I've got an idea."
The two men waited. It looked like Sully wasn't about to volunteer anything. "Damn it, boy. Out with it," Billy barked, a joking grin dancing at the corner of his mouth.
Sully jumped. He quickly composed himself before stepping forward.
"I know what I am, and I know what I'm not. Jason wants me to be able to hold my own in a fight, and that's just not likely to happen, but that's not because I don't respect fighters. I came here because I'd heard about Jason. Hell, the man's kind of a famous, you know?"
The two men nodded.
"Well, I didn't hear about him here. I heard about him miles away. The story of him and Jess is the first great post-war love story for God's sake."
"Is there a point?"
Sully nodded. "Yeah, there is. I know where to find people who would risk their lives for someone like Jason, even though they've never met the man."
"Where?" Simon said.
Sully proceeded to outline his plan. It wasn't a guarantee or anything, but what was? Billy and Simon agreed that this might just be the best hope for New Eden.
"Hell of an idea," Simon said quietly.
Billy nodded. "Think we can put it together in time?"
Simon shrugged. "Is there really a whole lot of choice?"
Billy shook his head. He just couldn't think of anything else.
** ** **
For three weeks, Jason lurked in the shadows of Somerton. Yancey had given him tons of intel, sure, but he needed more. Most people think of intelligence as military things. That was part of it, sure, but he needed more than that.
The barracks were down the street, barely within sight. He didn't need to see it clearly, because that wasn't what he was focused on. No, that honor was for the cart parked just outside of the building.
Jason wiped his brow with his wrist, the glaring sun's heat bombarded all beneath it. Probably a good thing I haven't gotten used to AC again, he thought, trying not to smile.
He watched as the cart unloaded boards. He'd already seen these boards. He knew what they were for. What he needed to see was how things worked at this point.
The men at the cart unloading an armful of the boards, then took them inside, repeating the process several times. That was what he needed to know.
Jason turned and walked away. He'd done this a dozen times by now, and no one had seemed to spot him. A quick check over his shoulder told him that this time would be different.
Maybe he got complacent. Maybe it was just bad luck. He didn't know which. Frankly, it didn't matter. What did matter was that a young Hispanic man was following him.
It was difficult to tell, but it looked like someone who'd been around Conklin a lot. Ramirez? Was that it? Jason had looked at a lot of intel, and his mind was getting a little crammed. The name sounded right though.
Jason picked up his pace. After all, he figured it could just be paranoia. As he rounded a corner, he peeked back. Ramirez had also picked up the pace.
So much for that.
Jason began running as soon as he was clear of Ramirez's line of sight. The street he found himself on was crowded with people milling about, fairly normal for a Saturday.
With each step, he wove his way through the congestion, focused on losing the tail.
A man stepped out of a shop just a few feet in front of Jason. He stopped dead, his body threatening to continue forward. The Somerton man looked him in the face, a scowl telling Jason that apparently something was his fault.
Jason nodded at the man, feigned an apologetic gesture, and continued on again.
A quick peek showed that Ramirez was still coming.
Damn.
Jason cut down another corner, sprinting hard, then cut down an alley. A quick turn back onto another street. Jason stopped for a second. That had to do it, he thought.
Panting, he looked back. The younger man was further back, but had somehow figured out where Jason had cut. Son of a… That's just not right. God really hates me right now, doesn't He?
Jason took off again, once again cutting down one road, then taking another cut. Every move he made, the younger man seemed to be right behind him.
Bastard recognizes me, and he's following me. Fifteen, twenty years younger than me too? I really hate young guys.
With every twist and turn, Jason's sense of direction became more skewed. He'd
picked up how to navigate around Somerton a bit, but he wasn't a native. Ramirez was, and that was making the difference.
BANG! The gunshot rang out, echoing off the old brick buildings. A burning sensation ripped at Jason's side. He hazarded a look down. A red stain of blood was spreading on his shirt. The fact that it happened to be white wasn't likely to help him blend in.
Down there. Jason immediately took the next left down an old alley.
A pre-war dumpster sat there, butted up to a brick wall cutting the alley off from whatever was on the other side. One of the two doors sat up. Jason smiled.
** ** **
Ramirez knew the man he chased. He'd not had Conklin's up close and personal conversations, but he knew the face none the less. So much for the bastard visiting his mother-in-law, he thought as he ran.
He saw Calvin duck down an alley. Gotcha, asshole, he thought. He knew that section of alley.
Ramirez slowed down, his weapon at the ready. He'd already hit the man once, but that just made him a wounded animal. He knew all too well how dangerous that could be.
Weapon out front, he sliced the pie around the corner, swinging out wide to avoid an ambush.
There, the thought, seeing a deep red smear on the dumpster's lid. Still more blood pooled slightly just in front of the old metal box. Got you now, you son of a bitch.
"Ramirez to all units. Need team at the alley behind Main and Fourth," he said into his radio.
He could take Calvin himself, and probably get all the accolades Conklin could think of. None of that mattered though. What mattered was completing the mission successfully.
Around him, people stopped to gawk. "Move along," he barked, his scowl telling them it wasn't a polite suggestion.
Minutes stretched agonizingly as Ramirez waited for his back up. A glance at his watch told him they'd come quickly. He was in a foul mood anyways. Luckily, he was senior enough that he could afford it.
"We've got a potential foreign agent cornered down this way. He's dangerous as hell. I'd love to take this guy to the general, but if he looks like he's going for a weapon, we end him. Is that understood?" Ramirez said.
The team, three men who'd not been along on the trip to New Eden, nodded. They had, however, helped repulse the pathetic attack against their city. They didn't look impressed by how dangerous Calvin was. The truth be told, Ramirez wasn't sure why he figured the man was so dangerous either.
The three men held their M-4's at the ready, approaching the dumpster cautiously. Silently, Ramirez was impressed. They held no respect for New Eden, and since those were the only foreign personnel who might try to infiltrate, they knew whoever was in the dumpster was from there. Still, they approached it professionally.
Two men stood ready on the corner, one on each side, while the third man made ready to open the dumpster.
BAM!
The dumpster's metal lid slammed against the brick wall.
Each of the three men called, "Clear."
"What? What the hell do you mean, 'clear'?" Ramirez screamed, his face turning read as a murderous rage descended upon him.
"It's clear, sir."
Ramirez stormed over to the dumpster, glaring into the empty darkness. That son of a bitch! Where the hell did he go? Ramirez looked around. Somehow, some way, Jason Calvin had made it out of that alley without him seeing it. On one hand, he was furious. The hick had made him look like a chump in front of his own men. On the other, Ramirez figured he understood something of why the general saw this man as a worthy adversary.
"Alright, search the area. He's bleeding, so see if we can pick up a trail."
The three men acknowledge the order and went about following it. Ramirez smiled ferally. Oh, you made it through today so far, but I know you're here now. Your ass is mine. Sooner or later, I'll get you and I'll nail your hide to the wall.
** ** **
Jason staggered into the Team Room. It was less because of the wound and more because he'd been chased halfway across Somerton.
"Jesus, Dad! What the hell happened?" Rick blurted, weaving his way through furniture to get to his father.
"Got made."
Yancey looked up from the papers he'd been studying. "Who?"
"I think it was Ramirez. Lost him in an alley. Climbed a dumpster and over a wall. Guess he thought I was in it."
The blonde man cursed under his breath. "That's Conklin's chief lieutenant. If he tells Conklin that he's seen you, things are going to get a lot more interesting."
Jason nodded. He'd already played out a number of scenarios as he double backed time and again, trying to make sure the trail of dripping blood wouldn't bring Conklin's goons to the garage's door. "I know. No clue how he did it either. I wasn't even close to the barracks."
"He wouldn't have to," Rick said. "He was in New Eden, right?"
Jason nodded.
"That's how. Like it or not, you're kind of memorable."
"Kid's got a point," Latham said. "Those guys who were there? They're likely to remember you. You were an official of the enemy. Chances are good, they had orders to take you out if possible during their raid."
Jason nodded. He didn't like it. Not in the least. Still, one of the most important lessons he'd ever learned was to listen to other people when they're talking sense. "We've still got some things to look at."
Rick nodded. "Yeah, and we will. In the mean time, the only thing that needs to get looked at is the extra hole you sprouted."
Sometimes, it's good to be loved. This isn't one of them, but it's the thought that counts.
Latham stepped forward, taking Jason's arm and draping it over his shoulder. "Come on, let me help get you cleaned up."
** ** **
The doctor poked and prodded Jason for what felt like an eternity. Jason had taken the worse that the doctor could dish out with the stoic nature inherent in his people. Or, if he were to put it another way, he'd say that he cried like a little baby.
The doc pronounced the wound as a clean hole all the way through, poured what felt to Jason like a gallon of alcohol into the hole, the doc sewed him up.
He sat up in bed, per doctor's orders, and looked at the men around him.
"Sorry, I'm just a hands on kind of guy."
"Bullshit," Rick said, a mischievous grin crossing his face. "You're a control freak."
"That too."
"So what's the plan?"
"Not sure yet. We need people to check where my people are at in the next few days. If they know I'm here, they're bound to adjust things a bit. I need to know how."
"More people?"
Jason nodded. "That's a definite. But I'm not sure how Conklin views me and any threat I pose. That's why I need to know how much he steps things up."
"And if he doesn't do anything?"
"He won't. He's not a complete idiot. He'll figure I'm up to something if I'm in town."
Rick nodded.
"By the way, any word from our source about Megan?"
"Yeah. She's starting to crack from what we're being told."
"See if we can get a message to her. Let her know we're here."
Rick nodded.
** ** **
"He's up to something," Conklin said. He'd heard Ramirez's report. While he'd have preferred to have taken the man already, he couldn't fault his subordinates caution. "The men who were in New Eden. They haven't reported seeing faces from there around?"
"No, sir. I checked earlier today."
Conklin nodded. "Okay. Set up our contingencies. Just in case."
"You don't consider him a threat?"
He shook his head. "It's not that. Jason Calvin is a threat. Something in his eyes, like looking into the soul of a fellow predator. Make no mistake, he's a threat. But he's alone. How much of a threat can one man be?"
Ramirez nodded. "You're not worried about the rumors of a resistance?"
He laughed. "Hardly. If it's around, they're too chicken shit to do anything. Hell, I think that shot a few weeks
ago might have been Calvin."
Ramirez raised a single eyebrow in question.
"Think about it, Major. We shelled his home town, the people he swore to protect. Worse than that, we targeted his home. Maybe we got his wife apparently. Either way, he's pissed. You don't think he'd try to wage a one man harassment campaign?"
His subordinate nodded. "Absolutely, sir. However, I'd still like to operate under the assumption that he has help within the city."
Conklin bit back an angry retort and considered his subordinate's suggestion for a moment. "Do it. But don't operate on that assumption exclusively. Is that understood?"
Ramirez nodded. "Understood, sir."
"Good. Dismissed."
As Ramirez left, Conklin leaned back in his chair. Without an army, Calvin wasn't a threat to anyone. He knew that, and he saw no reason to believe Calvin didn't know that as well. Sure, a sheriff wasn't necessarily trained in warfare, but he'd seen the spark in the other man's eye.
No matter how much he tried, the Calvin's endgame eluded him. If it had been assassination, why take out a single guard, then nothing?
Conklin stood up and left the office. He needed to think, to silence the rage he felt within him. Down the hall, through the door leading to the stairs, he walked with intensity. He didn't know if there were people in the hallway or not. They were irrelevant.
His feet tapped on each step, but he felt nothing except the draw. Before he knew it, he found himself outside the door in the dusty basement. He took a deep breath, taking in the musty air. He unlocked the door and opened it.
The single bulb glowed above her as she lay on the floor. Dried blood stained the gray concrete floor.
"Get up," he barked.
Slowly, she raised her head. For weeks now, she'd refused to meet his gaze. Today was different. Her eyes locked on his, her face defiant.
He slapped her with the back of his hand, spinning her. Her back slammed against the floor.
She flipped back forward, a spring in her movement he'd not seen in some time.
"What the hell's gotten into you?"
Bloody Eden (Soldiers of New Eden Book 2) Page 14
