by Reed, N. C.
“Between them and the Plum House, we should be able to see everything,” he concluded.
“Six towers is twelve men,” Mitch said at once. “Another eight to twelve on the response team…we don’t have the personnel for that,” he sighed. “And I wish we did. That was a hell of an idea, Lieutenant,” he complimented the young officer, who blushed ever so slightly at such praise from a veteran commando.
“Let’s don’t be so hasty to write it off,” Clay spoke for the first time in what seemed like hours, studying the map of the farm that was hanging on the wall. “The first thing we need to do is get a tower up in a spot we know we’re going to use, and then see exactly how far we can effectively see from it. We might not need so many. Let’s get Jody and Heath in here and ask-,”
“Heath’s TDY for the next couple days, Boss,” Mitch reminded him.
“Right,” Clay remembered. “Call Jody then, and anyone else who has sat a tower on a regular basis. We might as well see how far they can see from what we already have. For that matter, let’s start putting a team together to survey from the tower behind my parent’s place. With the leaves off, it will do for a test run.”
-
“Not bad for a test run, huh?” Corey Reynard all but whispered into his microphone as he watched the small group of teens struggle across the broken ground of a frozen corn field.
“Not really a fair test with Seth Webb along,” Gordy mentioned. “He’s got more field savvy than most adults thanks to his brothers and his old man. If they listen to him, they’ll make out fine.”
“True.”
-
“Don’t do that,” Seth warned, taking hold of Millie’s hand as she started to spread her ground sheet out. It was meant to keep her dry as she slept and had to go down on the ground first.
“What? Why?” she asked, looking at him. Seth had much more knowledge that she did, so she listened to him when her spoke.
“Check the ground, first off,” he knelt, scraping the snow away with a small shovel he had brought along.
“Where did you get that?” she demanded.
“Out o’ my bag,” he replied without looking up. “Look here,” he went on, pointing to his handiwork. “In weather like this, when we have to sleep out, we want to scrape the snow away from the ground, moving it toward the wind. Same time, you look for rocks and sticks and such that can tear your gear,” he nodded at her ground sheet, “or make you miserable.” He held up a large rock as an example before tossing it away.
“Bank the snow toward the wind,” he showed her what he meant, constructing a small snowbank between her bed site and the west wind that was blowing. “Won’t help much, but it will help some. Weather this bad, any help is good.” He handed her the small folding shovel before moving on to help someone else.
Shaking her head with a rueful smile, she started crafting a snowbank. As she worked, she wondered what her Ace was doing, and why he wasn’t out here with the rest of them.
-
“Will you settle down?” Gwen Paige demanded, tiring of watching Leon Sanders pace.
“What?” Leon looked at her. “What am I doing?”
“You’re wearing a hole in the floor,” Gwen said with a raised eyebrow. “You do know that your cousin and several of his friends are out there watching over them, don’t you?” she reminded him.
“Yeah, I know,” he nodded, taking his seat, a frown on his face. “I should be out there, too.”
“Is there anything they’re teaching those kids you don’t already know?” she asked him, smirking.
“No, probably not,” he admitted. “Even geeks who live on a farm learn to toughen up and deal. We know all that stuff and have since we were little kids,” he waved a hand away. “Can do everything except drive.”
“What’s so hard about driving?”
“You tell me,” He snorted. “Neither one of us can drive more than a golf cart. And we’ve wrecked it more than once.”
“I’ve seen the dents in it,” she sympathized. “Come summer, I’ll try and help you learn to do better. In the meantime, you need to go and get some rest. I’m here for four hours and then I have to sleep before I go back and help Lainie with the sewing. You have to be back here in seven-and-a-half hours to relieve your sister. So, go. Shoo,” she made a pushing motion with her hand.
“I’m going,” Leon almost laughed, getting to his feet and grabbing his coat. “I’ll have a radio on if-,”
“-if I need you. Yes, I know,” she cut him off with a smile and another shooing motion. “Go, I said!”
“Going,” he finally smiled as he departed, heading into the cold, leaving an amused Gwen behind him, shaking her head.
CHAPTER THREE
“This is so unfair,” Corey Reynard complained once again. “They get to have a fire and we’re freezing our ass off.”
“Will you shut up, man?” Heath Kelly whispered. “One, they’re gonna hear you and that whine of yours is distinctive. Two, I can’t hear a damn thing with you bitchin’ and moaning in my ear.”
The two were back-to-back in a small thicket of scrub oak roughly fifty yards east of where the small group of trainees lay shivering in their bags, the exceptions being Seth and Lila Webb, who had without a word agreed to share their bedding for warmth. The others, having no family among the group, were alone, none willing to approach the others about sharing blankets to stay warm. They weren’t to that point, yet.
Fifty yards west of the small fire, Gordy Sanders and Kurtis Montana sat a similar, albeit quieter watch.
“Reckon they did okay today,” Kurtis mused softly.
“I do wonder how much of that was on Seth, though,” Gordy agreed, mostly. “He’s smart out here in the bush. Raised in it.”
“Seems to know his business,” Kurtis agreed. He shifted slightly atop his own bag, huddled atop it for the warmth it could provide.
“You’re first for sleep, dude,” Gordy whispered. “I’ll wake you in four.”
“Sounds like a plan,” the lean cowhand agreed. Tucking his scarf into his coat a bit more firmly before anchoring it with his hat, Kurtis then leaned back slightly against the small pine tree the two had chosen to place between them as a brace.
In mere seconds he was asleep.
-
“I don’t want to be out here no more,” Anthony Goodrum said from deep inside his sleeping bag. “I want to go home.”
“Dude, you need to cowboy up a little,” Nathan Caudell told him quietly. “There’s three girls out here and I don’t hear them whinin’ like a baby. Get some sleep. We made four markers today and that was all. Still got seven to go. We don’t get ‘em, we fail. I ain’t gonna fail.”
“I don’t care if I fail,” Anthony replied sharply.
“Then take off on home, man,” Seth Webb spoke up. “It’s yonder way, around four miles, I conjure,” he pointed in the general direction of the farm, northeast of their own position.
“Let’s all go,” Anthony urged.
“No thanks, dude,” Nathan replied. “I’ve come this far; I aim to go the distance.” With that he settled deeper into the warmth of his sleeping gear and ignored the other teen.
“I’ll pass, thanks,” JJ Jackson spoke for the first time. “I’m not really a proper country boy, but I’m learning. If I fail, they won’t teach me anything else, so I’m staying.”
“Same here,” Seth and Lila said together.
“I’m not getting out of this bag until daylight,” Millie Long said simply. “Now shut up and let the rest of us get some sleep.”
Janice Hardy was noticeably quiet, having already gone to sleep, untroubled it seemed by the cold and conditions. It didn’t occur to any of the others that she had faced far worse in her young life than a fire and a warm bag to sleep in.
Defeated, Anthony Goodrum burrowed into his own bag and zipped it around him.
-
“Hear anything from Gordy and his crew?” Clay asked, leaning into the radio ro
om.
“No, but we don’t expect to unless they have trouble,” Gwen shook her head. “They’re on a talk-around channel so they can talk to one another. Just FRS stuff. Gordy has a tactical radio if they need to contact us.”
“Okay,” Clay nodded. “Sounds like they must have it covered. Night.”
“Night, Clay.”
-
Zach had drawn the short straw today, having to work the line during the morning and early afternoon, then return after six hours to work the response watch. He didn’t mind it, really, and had never said anything about it. And it did give him a chance to visit Amanda Lowery.
“Evening, Mavis,” he smirked as he strolled into the clinic. He was instantly met with a thrown spoon, an angry glare following the utensil to him.
“Wow,” Zach said with faked shock. “Somebody’s not getting enough to eat, looks like.”
“I have asked you, repeatedly, not to call me that,” Amanda all but growled. “And it’s not funny, you jackass!” she added when Zach began to grin.
“It is, a little,” he assured her. “So, how are you? Pain any better? Can you move any easier?”
“A bit,” she nodded, frowning. “Not like I want to, though.”
“Take a little while, I imagine,” Zach shrugged. “Not that I’d know.”
“You don’t want to, either,” Amanda promised. “What are you doing?”
“Got the response watch from six-to-midnight,” Zach informed her. “Then got to be back in the morning for another round on the same job. At least it’s warm,” he shrugged again. “You need anything? I can make short trips away, so long as they’re quick.”
“No, I’m set,” Amanda shook her head. “Even got a book to pass the time,” she held up a worn paperback.
“Romance, huh?” Zach smirked and Amanda flushed.
“Nothing wrong with that,” she defended. “A good read is still a good read.”
“Guess so,” he agreed, getting to his feet. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Night, Sarge,” he snickered, barely evading a butter knife that clattered against the wall as the door closed behind him.
“Jackass,” Amanda muttered, wincing at the pain she was feeling from two throws. Doing her best to ignore that, she opened her book and returned to see how her favorite characters were doing. Safely hidden behind the book, she finally allowed a grin to cross her features.
-
Leaving the clinic, Zach stepped outside into the cold, the sun already gone for the day though the glow of sunset was still hanging in the sky. He looked to the horizon before him, facing south, and felt a slight itch at the back of his neck.
He didn’t like that.
Stretching, he bent to touch his toes then stood and looked again, scanning every inch of what he could see. Unable to see anything out sorts, he stepped back inside to find Jose Juarez. Gathering his gear first, Zach went to the small office that Clay used, which had become the farm’s security headquarters, in fact if not in name. Jose was standing inside, leaning on Clay’s ‘desk’ staring at the map on the wall.
“You got a minute?” Zach asked from the door, startling the former commando.
“I’m gonna have to get you a bell, cabrito,” Jose smiled. “C’mon in.”
“There’s someone watching us,” Zach said without preamble, catching Jose by surprise for the second time in less than a minute.
“How do you know?” the older man asked him.
“My neck started itching when I went outside a few minutes ago,” Zach shrugged. “I was looking around, and when I started scanning south, just looking, I got the feeling someone was looking back. We got no one over that way that I know about,” he added.
“No, not really,” Jose agreed. “Closest thing would be a Hummer we have about…here,” he touched the map. “Your instincts are pretty good, according to Red,” he looked back at Zach, considering.
“Just stuff I learned from you guys,” Zach shrugged again. “I’m fine to creep out there once the light is gone and look around. Maybe I can find whoever it is and put an end to them.”
Jose actually considered that for a moment but then shook his head in a negative response.
“No. No, I want you here, on your watch. I do need to warn Jody and Mister Meecham, though. Meecham is in the Hilltop Tower and Jody is upstairs. You, Virgil and Nate have response tonight, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Zach nodded.
“Make sure and fill them in on what you think, okay?” Jose told him. “We’ll do all this quietly so that maybe whoever might be watching or even listening doesn’t realize we might be on to them. Good work, by the way,” he complimented.
“Just my job,” Zach shrugged again. “If you don’t need me anymore, I’ll go and talk to Nate and Virgil.”
“That’s fine,” Jose nodded, reaching for the phone.
-
Kim Powers climbed slowly to her feet, dusting bits of dust from her clothing. She and Xavier Adair were preparing for a workout in the small ‘dojo area in the back of Building One, now known as T1, for Troy Farm One.
With Amanda in the hospital and Zach on watch, it was only the two of them. She missed the presence of each, though for different reasons.
“Seems odd to be doing this without Zach and Amanda,” she noted, taking the time to stretch her arm muscles.
“It does, yes,” Xavier replied absently, nodding. “We shall have to be accustomed to Miss Lowery being absent, considering that she will be somewhat of an invalid for the foreseeable future. Zachary, however, should rejoin us tomorrow, or the next day.” He spoke from the floor, where he sat in a meditation pose of some sort, his tone indicating that he was giving her only a small part of his attention.
“So how is this different from being in Special Forces?” she changed the subject. “I mean, not teaching me stuff, but how things are operating here on the farm,” she clarified.
Xavier turned his full attention to her then, a flat-eyed, predatory look that made her want to take a step back even though she knew he wasn’t a threat to her.
Probably. One could never be completely sure about Xavier Adair.
“I suspect you have a rather romanticized idea about what we did in the old days, so to speak,” he said finally, uncoiling from a floor in a lithe motion that to Kim looked remarkably like a snake unwinding.
“In what way?” Kim was almost offended at the term ‘romanticized’.
“There is a great deal of difference between what are called ‘dark’ or ‘black’ operations and the community within the military known as Special Forces,” he explained, watching her closely.
“What kind of difference?” she asked, head laying over to one side as it was now her turn to study him.
“Special Forces is a tag normally applied to such elite units as Green Berets, Navy Seals, Marine Force Recon, and to a lesser extent ODD.”
“ODD?” Kim’s puzzlement at the term was clear.
“Often referred to in media as Delta Force,” Xavier provided, a slight eye roll showing what he thought of the popular and multi-media’s ability to trivialize and minimalize something important.
“Oh,” Kim’s eyes widened. “Them I’m heard of.”
“No, you’ve heard of the movies and books and other rubbish that are built around the idea,” Xavier corrected, though not unkindly. “That is understandable, as the very idea of the entire operation was supposed to be a secret. I believe it was Benjamin Franklin, however, who noted that three people can keep a secret only if two are dead. Detachment Delta was conceived by a gentleman who was himself part of the Special Operations community after having been an observer attached to a Special Air Service unit while in operations. The Special Air Service, or SAS, is the British Special Forces, at least the land element. That is simplified, but still accurate.”
“But as to your question,” he got back on track. “We were not a part of that unique fraternity. We did not go into insurgent strongholds and train their troops to
fight, nor, at least as a rule, rescue hostages. I say as a rule because we did, on rare occasions, do just that. The difference between the real Special Forces community and our own meager effort to world peace was that they are all, or were before the Storm, recognized as part of the United States Military. We were not.”
“What?! Why not?” she demanded, shocked at the revelation.
“Because, dear girl, the United States and most other free nations would never admit to having units such as ours on the payroll,” he replied simply. “To put it simply, we were hunters. We stalked terrorists, child traffickers, slavers and other contributors to polite society, and we killed them, though only after extracting as much information from them as we possibly could. We did that without the pomp, circumstance or recognition that the true Special Forces community rightly receives. Or did, before the lights went out.”
“But didn’t you deserve credit for doing all that?” she demanded, offended on their behalf. “That was a good thing! Right?”
“I suppose, at least in theory,” he shrugged carelessly. “But none of us were interested in recognition or credit, quite honestly. If we had been we likely would not have been approached to participate in the program to begin with.”
“Then what were you interested in?” she asked, stomping ahead into areas where angels feared to tread. “Why do it?”
“I can speak only for myself in answering that,” he smiled slightly, though as usual it didn’t reach his eyes. “Simply put, I enjoyed it.”
-
Jose had decided to cancel the patrol circuit that would have taken one or two of the ground watch out across from the main buildings and into the area that Zach Willis had indicated as a possible spy or observation post. He had also added two more people to the ground watch around the buildings, just as a precaution.
Tomorrow, he would send a strong patrol into the area to reconnoiter the area. Until then, he would wait and watch. Or have others do it.
He had debated with himself over notifying Clay but had decided against it. No matter how good the boy’s instincts were, it was still just a feeling, with no hard evidence of any kind to validate it. Clay had nearly killed himself with fatigue and worry, and they had been lucky that Thatcher had caught it in time. Jose and a few others had been trying extremely hard to take different parts of Clay’s burden onto themselves, and Jose’s area was security.
