Preying in Two Harbors

by Dennis Herschbach

  *****

  An FBI negotiator, Andy Cooper, had been flown into the Two Harbors airport earlier that morning. A guardsman had been there to pick him up, and it was only a fifteen-minute drive to the HQ, where he met Jackie. Being the agent in charge of the Militia Division out of the Duluth FBI office, she was the one to brief him on the situation. Together, they had made their way to the front, and now hunkered down with Fire Team C. They both knew the silence of the place was deceiving.

  At the present, there was no way to establish communication with the militia, except by bullhorn, and Andy checked to make sure it was turned on and the volume was cranked up. “My name is Andrew Cooper. I’m a representative of the FBI, and I’d like to discuss the situation with whoever is in charge.” He clicked the bullhorn off and listened for some sort of response. “Can you hear me? If you can, just holler.” More silence. “We’ve got to talk. If we don’t, the governor has given the word to destroy your compound. People will get killed if we do that. If you can hear me, and if you have a cell phone, call this number.” He slowly recited the number of the phone he held in the hand not grasping the bullhorn, then he repeated the number two more times, slowly.

  Andy and Jackie settled down behind a hummock of dirt and timber that had been pushed aside when the road had been dozed, and they waited. Jackie wished she had looked at her watch when the message was broadcast. Time dragged, and it was impossible for her to estimate how many minutes had elapsed. Andy’s phone rang, and its tone jolted both of the negotiators. “Hello,” he answered. “This is Agent Cooper speaking. Who am I talking to?” Jackie could tell by his expression that he was getting an answer. “Listen, Lieutenant, I have another agent with me, and I’m going to put my phone on speaker so she can be a part of our conversation. Okay?” There was a pause. “Okay, you’re on speaker phone. What are your demands?”

  The person Andy had referred to as the lieutenant hesitated for several seconds. The negotiators could almost hear the wheels grinding, and they wondered what was going through his mind. They had expected some sort of manifesto to be read, but it was as though this guy was unprepared, as though he really wasn’t sure what to demand.

  “We want to have a TV crew come into our compound and interview us.” Andy looked at Jackie and shrugged.

  “Do you want to be interviewed or somebody else?” Again there was hesitation.

  “I don’t know. We’ll decide that later.”

  “Okay,” Andy seemed to agree. “Okay, we can arrange that, but listen. Why not come out of your bunkers, and we can meet the ­reporters at a neutral site. That way they’ll have time to set up, you’ll have time to figure out exactly what you want to say, and we can all ease off a little. No use having a lot of people dying over this.”

  The lieutenant answered immediately. “You government fascists, I know what you’re doing. How stupid do you think we are? You’ll get us out there and gun us down. We’ll be buried, and nobody will ever know about us. We’ll just become another government cover-up.”

  Andy shook his head in disgust. “Listen to me. We all want to end this peacefully. What exactly are you trying to accomplish?”

  “We can’t allow things to go on as they are. Our government is nothing but a bunch of liberals who want to disarm this nation, take away our guns, and when they do, we’ll be subjugated to their dictatorial wishes. We won’t be able to defend ourselves.”

  Andy listened to the lieutenant’s message and then responded. “We understand your fear that your guns will be taken from you, but surely, you must have other grievances. I’d like to know what they are.”

  A few seconds went by, and the lieutenant came back on. “What kind of government do we have that is intent on cramming perversion down our throats? Homosexuals, all they do is weaken our fighting ability. And blacks, in their arrogant demands they intend to take over. They’re as bad as the Jews, who have all the power in this country. Our government is a mess and is failing to protect true Americans, people like us who bleed red, white, and blue.”

  Andy took a deep breath. “All right, Lieutenant. What do you want us to do?” There was silence for too long, and Jackie thought the lieutenant had hung up on them. Then he came with his demand.

  “I want you to get a TV crew on the scene. Then I want you, Agent Cooper, to come out in the open. I’ll do the same. You bring six of the Guard with you, and I’ll bring six of my men with me. We’ll meet in the parade ground, but I want evidence that the meeting is being recorded by the TV crew. I want to see them on the periphery with their cameras. I’ll give you two hours to set this up, and then all hell is going to break loose if you’re not back to me.” The phone went dead.

  Agent Cooper and Jackie withdrew to HQ, which was only a short distance behind them. Both Director Benton and Major Jensen were waiting to hear the report, and the two negotiators filled the leaders in on what was demanded. Ben listened intently, wishing that Deidre could be there hearing all of what the militia representative had said. Jensen called the camp set up at Ben and Deidre’s home and asked to be connected to one of the TV crews that were waiting. Not only one, but three crews from different networks wanted to be involved in the action, and Jensen marveled at their dedication, even though it might have been preempted by their desire to get a scoop.

  In an hour, the camera crews were ready and waiting to move with the negotiating crew. Agent Cooper strapped on a bullet-proof vest, as did the six Guardsmen who would be accompanying him. The camera crew had been outfitted by the Guard and wore the same protection as the negotiators. They were set to meet the enemy and begin face-to-face talks.

  Agent Cooper, Andy, hit the redial button on his phone. “Lieutenant, we’re ready to come out. When we see you and your entourage advance to the parade ground, we’ll do the same. The camera crews are ready, as you asked, but they have been instructed to stay well on the perimeter. They are my responsibility, and you’ll suffer severe repercussion if they are assaulted in any way.”

  Four fire teams under direction of Major Jensen had been set up so they could train their weapons on the militia who would be at the meeting. They were sure the other side had their weapons at the ready, also, but everyone felt confident nothing would happen as long as the TV crews were taping. When the militia stepped onto the parade ground, Andy rose from behind his cover, and escorted by the guardsmen, began to approach the clearing. They were almost to the midway point when they were cut down by a barrage of heavy machine gun fire that raked back and forth across their group. Jackie saw them fall, watched as Andy tried to stand up but was mowed down by another volley, and the group lay motionless.

  The fire teams answered with their own firepower, and in seconds, the militiamen were on the ground, too. Fourteen people lay dead on the parade ground.

  At first, the TV crews had been so engrossed in their filming, it didn’t register what was actually happening, but when it did, they dove for cover. But before that happened, they had on tape the National Guard soldiers being slaughtered and an FBI agent being mutilated by the machine gun slugs. Several hundred yards to the rear, everyone at HQ heard the gunfire and knew something had gone terribly wrong.

  It took only a few minutes for Warrant Officer James Riley to reach headquarters with the news of what had happened, and Ben saw the jaw muscles of Major Jensen bulge. Director Benton picked up a stone and hurled it at nothing in the woods. Then he turned to Jensen.

  “What in the hell are we going to do now? This has turned into what we feared most, a public relations disaster.”

  Major Jensen was beyond furious. “Our only option now is to complete the operation, and public relations be damned. I’m calling up two armored vehicles that are waiting. The older models that have been sold to public law enforcement agencies won’t do the trick against their weaponry. We have the latest, M114 Humvees. They aren’t perfect, but they�
��re battle tested. I’ll have them here, armed and ready to go, in twenty minutes.”

  *****

  Deidre felt as though she was a captive in the ER. She had been given three IV bags of Ringers, and had gone to the bathroom more times than she cared to remember. Her headache had subsided, and she felt her strength returning by the minute. True, her left eye remained swollen shut, and her ribs ached with each breath, but nothing was so bad that she couldn’t stand it. The thought of what was happening without her knowledge was eating at her, and she wanted out of the hospital. Fortunately, she was overruled by the medical staff and was forced to stay put. They did mollify her somewhat by reminding her they would evaluate her case by early evening.

  *****

  As Major Jensen had promised, the two Humvees arrived at 1400 hours military time, 2:00 p.m. civilian time. Ben was left out of the decision-making loop, but Benton allowed him to be privy to the operation. He looked at the two armored vehicles and was overwhelmed by the sight of a guardsmen perched atop each, manning Browning .50-caliber machine guns. There was no doubt about their mission.

  Ben saw the crews huddling with Major Jensen—one soldier turned and shot a stream of tobacco juice at the base of a tree—and Ben marveled at how calm they seemed. They were, he realized, preparing to go into battle. The group broke up, and each soldier returned to his respective armored vehicle. In minutes, they were on their way to the compound, only a five-minute ride from where he stood.

  Jackie had returned to her cover behind a mound of earth and tangled logs. She held the bullhorn that Andy Cooper used earlier in the conflict, and she cradled it as she heard the rumble of the Humvees coming up the road. They stopped a short distance behind her, and she knew it was time to make one more plea. She tried to get her voice under control so she wouldn’t sound like a screeching, hysterical woman.

  “Listen to me. We are giving you one chance to drop your arms and come out with your hands on your heads. Whatever you are trying to do, you have reached the end of your time. You have one minute to surrender. If you do not comply with my request, the National Guard has orders to attack, and that won’t do you any good. You will not survive. Do you understand me?” She put the bullhorn down, looked at her watch, and waited, observing the second hand sweep its way past the numbers on the dial.

  After the minute was up, a voice rang out. “If you want our guns, come and get them. This is being recorded by the TV crews, and when they play it on the news, the public will see just how much of a Fascist regime we live in. We’re ready for you and will die as patriots.” Another two minutes passed, and the forest shook as the V8 turbo-charged diesels of the armored carriers revved up, propelling them forward. Ben could hear the roar of the engines, and seconds later a steady burst of gunfire. Then silence.

  Jackie felt the ground shake as the three-ton vehicles made their charge, and her ears rang as the Brownings spewed their bullets at the bunkers sheltering the militiamen. The plan had been to enter the triangle formed by the three redoubts but not to run directly at the apex of the triangle. Each Humvee would make a run at the bunkers at the base angles of the triangle, take them out with bursts from their machine guns and then converge at the apex. Fire teams would advance from the periphery and mop up whatever needed to be done.

  The Humvees were on the militants before they could react, and with the speed that the armored vehicles reached them, they had little chance. The guardsmen swept in and destroyed the bunkers, leaving a trail of destruction behind. Soldiers on foot followed so closely, the survivors of the attack had no time to gather their senses and react.

  Jackie heard one warrant officer yell, “Over there, in the corner. Drag him out.” She heard scuffling but no shots. As quickly as it had begun, the action was over, and she dared to look over the berm behind which she lay. At least twenty National Guard troops were actively patting down a number of militiamen. In one bunker, two were administering first aid, and she could hear sirens not far away. The National Guard ambulances were on their way, as was the county’s ambulance crew and Search and Rescue. She realized she still held the bullhorn, tried to put it down, and couldn’t. Her fingers were frozen around its handle, and they were white from clenching it so hard. When she stood up, she realized she was shaking all over. Only then did she notice a member of the TV crew approaching her, his camera held on his shoulder, its red light aimed directly at her. She was being recorded. Jackie stumbled onto the parade ground and passed near one of the bunkers. Four dead militiamen lay sprawled in various distorted positions. They look too young to be here, she thought.

  She went over to where Andy, her partner only two hours ago, lay, and she folded his dead arms across his chest, then stood looking at his face, wishing he’d wake up.

  After ten minutes of wandering around in a daze, Jackie felt someone come up behind her and place a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to face the person. It was Ben, and he wrapped his arms around her as she slumped so her head rested on his chest. He held her for a long time, repeating over and over, “It’s done. You’re okay. You’re safe.” Finally, he let go of her and stepped back. “I’m sorry,” was all he said, and she saw tears in his eyes.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  A sweep of the compound went far more uneventfully than Ben would have thought. Major Jensen ordered a few of his men to detain the TV people until he could speak with them. The rest went through each building, searching for, and finding, a few militia stragglers who thought they might escape by sitting the search out in hiding places. In the final count, twelve militiamen had been killed and fourteen wounded. Ten had been captured, not counting Captain Blake and his guard. Three guardsmen had been wounded, none severely, and the medics were attending to their wounds. Their count didn’t include the initial casualties of the fracas. Ben wondered if all battlefields looked this calm after the storm.

  The Guard ambulances arrived almost as soon as the firing was over, and now they were wrapping the bodies of the dead in blankets and loading them into the vehicles. Agent Andy Cooper’s body was taken away by the Two Harbors Rescue Squad. Director Benton, Major Jensen, and two warrant officers returned to Ben’s place to meet with the TV crews. Ben decided to walk home, hoping he could sort through the myriad of feelings he was experiencing.

  *****

  It was four thirty when Ben walked into his kitchen. The major had rolled up his maps, and the table was cleared. The Guard still had their tents up in his field, but everyone was moving at a slower pace. The major entered the room with Benton, and their faces lacked many of the worry lines that had creased them before.

  “Can we sit in your living room, Ben? I’d like you to know what’s happening so you can relay the information to Deidre.” Ben accepted, and the trio made their way to the other room and settled into the couch and chairs. “First, we have Captain Blake and his guard being held in the Lake County Jail.” Ben signaled for him to wait a second and retrieved a pen and notepad. Jensen continued. “There are three others we think might be useful to us when we begin our interrogation. They’re being held in the jail, too. Seven have been transported to the St. Louis County Jail. All are in isolated cells so they can’t rehearse their stories.”

  “What about Jackie?” Ben wanted to know, and Director Benton filled him in.

  “Jackie is pretty shook up. She’s been taken to St. Luke’s Hospital in Duluth for evaluation. That was pretty traumatic, seeing Andy cut down the way he was. She’ll be seeing an agency-provided psychiatrist tomorrow and for however long she needs. And what about Deidre? Are there provisions for her recovery?” Ben hadn’t even thought about that, and as he was pondering the question, he heard the kitchen door open. He wondered who would be letting him- or herself into his home, and he rose to investigate.

  “Deidre!” he shouted. “What are you doing here?”

  She looked at him, smiled a crooked smile and tr
ied to wink her one eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “I live here. Remember?” She limped to him and threw her arms around his waist. “I couldn’t stand being in that hospital another minute. I don’t have any holes in me, other than from all the needles they jammed in my arms, and the ER doc said there wasn’t much they could do for me that couldn’t be done at home. So I called a deputy to give me a lift, and here I am. Aren’t you glad to see me?”

  Ben rocked her back and forth and started to squeeze. He felt her wince and tense up. “Easy big fella,” she said. “That rough play is going to have to wait for a while, I’m afraid,” and she laughed the laugh Ben had come to love. His wife was home. “Have you called the girls?” she asked, and Ben realized he’d been so involved with everything, he hadn’t let them know a thing.

  “Just a second.” He let go of Deidre and phoned Maren. She must have been waiting with her phone in her hand, because she answered immediately. “Maren, I’ve got someone who wants to talk to you.” He handed the phone to Deidre.

  “Hi, my daughter. How you doin’?”

  Even Ben heard the scream on the other end of the call, followed by, “Megan, it’s Mom! Come quick!” Deidre heard a crash as Megan overturned a chair in her haste, but in seconds she was telling them she was safe, and she made no effort to stop the tears that rolled down her face, wetting the front of her shirt. After reassuring her daughters she was okay and promising that she would tell them all about it, Deidre hung up. Ben and the other two officers were waiting for her in her living room. It had never felt better to sit on her couch next to her husband and lay her head on his shoulder. Suddenly, she was exhausted, but she wanted to hear what Benton and Jensen had to say.

  “Deidre, you’re one tough person.” She was glad Jensen hadn’t said “woman.” She didn’t want to be singled out as though being a woman and being tough didn’t go together. She smiled as best she could. “I had just begun to give Ben a message for you, but now you can get it straight from the horse’s mouth, although some people say my words come from a different part of my anatomy.” Jensen laughed like Ben had never heard him laugh. He definitely was beginning to relax.