They counted at least four trailers there but because they were obscured in the shadows of the upper level, it was difficult to see any other real details. They couldn’t even say with any confidence how many were actually guarding the bottom area. After nearly nineteen hours of studying the dim figures in daylight and in darkness, the best they could do was make a guess of at least twenty.
With only one exception, no one came from or left the bridge the entire time they observed it. Late that afternoon an old pickup truck approached from the Indiana side. A guard met it and the truck was allowed to come on where it immediately went to the compound on the lower level. The truck only stayed a few minutes and left the same way it came crossing back into New Albany unmolested. Clearly they were friends, whoever they were. From all their observations, crossing this bridge seemed an overwhelming task. Not unless the current owners allowed it.
From their position on top of the hill, they could see another bridge that wasn’t even on their maps although they would soon find out it didn’t matter. The old railroad bridge had clearly been destroyed on purpose, one of the center spans down in the water. It couldn’t be crossed even on foot.
It was getting dark that second night when the three decided to head up river to see if the pickings were better. Since the other two bridges were close together, they decided to find a spot to observe the both for the next day or two.
Little by little they made their way east under cover of darkness, moving carefully and quietly as they approached the inner city. Brad and the man were slowly walking ahead of Edgar driving, in complete darkness, all of them keeping their eyes open and clearing small obstacles. Twice in the distance they could hear gunfire like the night before, both times east of them closer downtown.
Early that morning they arrived without trouble, although they continued to hear the now not so distant sound of gunfire resonate through the skyscrapers of the inner city.
As they approached they could see the roof of a tall luxury hotel there on the waterfront that they all thought perfect for their needs. The three of them moved toward the lifeless structure as quietly as they could. When finally they got close enough it could be seen that the first eight of its twenty-five floors were ravaged by fire although they had hope it could still be used for what they needed.
But first they hid their vehicle well in a parking garage they scouted nearby. They quietly drove it into the deserted building and using several trashed cars and plenty of junk they effectively left it hidden from prying eyes. They took everything they could carry with them, the vehicle and its fuel the only things of value left behind.
With care, they made their way back to the hotel, stealth being their greatest concern. They kept in the shadows of the moon above them that had finally emerged from the cloudy night sky. Although they couldn’t say precisely from where, the softened sounds of strained voices and the occasional echo of gunfire through the tall buildings constantly reminded them they were not alone.
They arrived back at the hotel just after 4:00 that morning. Searching through the damaged building, they finally came to the staircase where another problem presented itself. The building was badly burned on the lower floors and the stairway had collapsed completely just below the third floor.
Initially they thought about finding another location but then the man remembered a paint and ladder store they passed on their way back from to the garage. He noted at the time with the exception of the broken glass in the storefront, it was completely untouched. They hurried through the darkness and found what they needed, “borrowing” a forty-foot aluminum extension ladder.
Edgar and the man brought the ladder back while Brad ran “point” with his M4 in case they “ran into trouble.” With some effort they at last got through the doors of the lobby and then into the stairwell, and with that done finally ascended to the third floor of the building. The ladder was fully extended and dangerously shaking as they climbed to the top. They then brought their gear up with a rope and the last thing they did was pull their ladder up behind them making sure no one could follow.
But their journey was only half done. Now they had stairs to climb. Slowly rising to the upper floors of the old hotel, they all remarked how they were nearly untouched, but were still heavy with the soot.
Eventually they arrived at the top and found a rotating restaurant facing the river, a panoramic view of the Ohio nearly perfect for the job. Surprisingly, there wasn’t much damage to the room, except that it reeked of smoke and ash covered the furniture and floor. Several glass panels overlooking the river were also broken and one entirely gone. Their long day finally done, they all made their beds for some much needed sleep just as the sun was rising.
After a few hours rest, they woke to the late morning sunlight coming through the windows and at last got to see it all. From their perch high above the city they had an unobstructed view and as long as they stayed still and quiet near the windows knew they would be safe right where they were.
What they could see within their immediate sight were four bridges crossing the river. The two others they observed the day before could hardly be seen even from their lofty position. Of those they could readily see every one of them was either destroyed or under control by someone. Although they couldn’t say who, they naturally assumed it was the same group that controlled the Sherman Minton. With daylight they could at last locate the voices and gunfire they heard and discovered it was coming from the bridges on the river. Many of the men they observed on those bridges appeared military but it was also quite obvious many were not. The boys assumed the soldiers below were deserters like them and had formed alliances with others of like mind.
The bridge farthest east from their hideaway was an old railroad truss bridge partially obscured by a larger, much more modern bridge just west of it. Like the other railroad bridge they observed further down river, this one had been blown up too. It was no longer of use to anyone as one complete span had collapsed and was partially sunk in the water.
From their position high above the city they spied on the next bridge down river. The John F. Kennedy Memorial seemed to be a base of operations for the gang. It was a single level type and all seven of its lanes were almost completely enclosed on both the north and south sides. Four-foot concrete highway barriers created an island in the center. Beyond it both ways was a closely packed barricade of scrap cars and trucks. With his rifle scope on its highest setting, the man could count thirty on the north and thirty-two on the south.
Just as the Sherman Minton, this bridge had a large open area in the center that appeared to be where most of the gang was living. In this compound there were six trailers of various sizes sitting close together and on the far northeast corner were several portable toilets, the type used at construction sites.
Also scattered about the compound were several metal fifty-gallon drums with small fires, four picnic tables, a dozen or so odd household and patio chairs, and lastly what appeared to be a large barbeque grill. Behind the trailer on the west side were three large plastic storage tanks sitting on the ground. They appeared to hold several hundred gallons and reminded the man of the type his grandpa use to haul water with back on the farm.
The only opening completely across was a narrow portion on the far west side of the bridge against the barrier. There were two large cars, one on each end being used as a gate. They didn’t appear to be running as they later noted how they had to be pushed open and closed. Besides the two cars there was also a large four-wheel-drive truck that was definitely running. They were certain this was not the same truck they saw down river.
The rest of the bridge and freeway leading up to it had been completely cleared of all obstacles. It created a very effective open “killing zone” about 2000 feet on each side of the small, improvised town. They could see numerous people within the site milling about during the day. Between their scope and binoculars they counted a minimum of twenty-six different men living on the bridge and every sing
le one was armed. At any given time there were at least six guards on patrol, three on each side.
Their next opportunity was the one nearest their hideaway. The Second Street Bridge was a smaller four lane one that crossed the river further west of the JFK. Like that bridge, it had a small but densely packed blockade in the center that made it impassable to any vehicles, although it had unblocked walkways and could still be crossed by foot. They counted at least six armed guards there too but there were no indications that any one of them were living on site.
Furthest west, closer to the locks, was an old railroad vertical drawbridge that like the other two had been destroyed with explosives. This bridge had been damaged with the moving span about four feet up. While trains could no longer pass through, someone on foot might traverse it with time, and luck. Even so, it was still guarded by two men and like the Second Street Bridge no one seemed to be living on it.
After another day of observing they still didn’t have a clear plan between them. But one thing they all could agree on was the Sherman Minton would not be considered as there were just too many unknown factors to take the chance. Every other possibility, however, was argued quite passionately.
The man’s first idea was to find a small fast boat, one just big enough to take them and their gear across the Ohio. They had seen several on the trip downtown from the suburbs and a few still looked up to the job. They could use a boat dock on the south end of the county and bypass the whole mess. The only real problem, but a sizeable one, would be to find a boat that still had gas or could use their diesel. It didn’t matter because the boys didn’t like the idea. It meant they would have to abandon their Humvee and walk the rest of the way home, an option they weren’t willing to consider. That idea was quickly voted down to the man’s disappointment.
Another option the man brought up was to try another bridge further up or down the river. Their maps showed bridges both forty miles north and thirty miles or so south, although this choice came with its own set of problems. First, they didn’t know if the bridges were intact, and even if they were chances were good they were held by gangs too. Edgar and Brad also voted this idea down. They didn’t want to waste that much fuel just to answer those questions.
Also discussed was the idea of simply paying whatever “toll” this gang wanted to cross their bridge. While the subject was considered all three were uncommitted. They couldn’t figure out a way of getting an answer to that question without putting themselves in danger. Besides, they were all reasonably sure they couldn’t afford it, however much “it” was.
Finally they decided to just wait and watch for a few more days. The vehicle was secured and hidden and they had enough food for a while. There was no need to rush, they could afford to observe and gather more intelligence before making such an important decision.
The next day they observed a well-worn pickup approach the JFK from the Indiana side and they were stopped at the entrance by guards. There were two men in the front and three more in the back all armed with rifles. This appeared to be the same truck they observed on the other bridge down river.
The truck slowly entered and made its way to the center section, finally stopping by the trailers. Two others briefly greeted the men and then all of them began unloading the contents of the pickup’s bed. There were all manner of canned and dry goods and also several cases of bottled water. One of the men then retrieved a sack and produced what appeared to be two freshly dead cats. Later that day several soldiers were observed cooking something on the grill.
From their observations they would eventually learn the gang had at least three trucks and all were kept at the JFK. Sometimes two might be gone hunting, or whatever they might be doing, but there was always at least one left at the center camp.
On November 2nd, not too long after noon, they observed a group of refugees approaching the Kennedy Bridge. They advanced up the road right in the open, walking north, straight up Interstate 65. There were nine in the ragged group, two men and seven women. One of the men and two of the women appeared very young and were probably teenagers. All except one of the younger women were armed with an assortment of rifles and shotguns and both of the men each had a pistol too. The older man proceeded to the bridge alone while his group stayed behind where they could use the highway dividers as cover. It was the last place of safety before reaching the bridge.
Six armed men walked out and met him at the edge by the road. After a very short but friendly looking conversation the man was inexplicably shot in the head by one guard while talking to another. Both sides started shooting but the refugees never stood a chance. The guards, shielded in the bridge’s infrastructure, began firing and more started shooting from the safety of their compound.
Simultaneously, five in the gang’s pickup pulled out and quickly advanced on the group. After a firefight that lasted only few minutes, the remaining three dropped their guns and surrendered. The survivors were then marched back to the camp.
The second man, four of the women and two gang members had been killed in the shooting. All eight of their bodies were stacked in the truck and driven back to the base. After they were thoroughly searched and stripped of any valuables, the dead, including their own, were all thrown into the river below.
The three remaining captives were taken to those small trailers in the center of the bridge and were kept there for nearly four hours. The entire time numerous men kept coming and going from the trailers.
Late in the day, shortly before sunset, they heard the sound of gunfire. Even at that far distance they could distinguish two distinctive shots and also the sound of a woman screaming. A brief moment later they heard two more gunshots. After another few minutes, there was yet more screaming. But this time a lone women burst from a trailer door quickly followed by a man and both were naked. The man appeared to be bleeding heavily from the top of his head. He shot her twice in the back and she promptly died there face down in the middle of their compound.
As the sun was setting, several soldiers dragged out the bodies of two other naked women and threw them over the rail of the bridge into the river, along with their friend.
The three of them decided right there that they wouldn’t be negotiating, they wouldn’t be paying any “toll.” They vowed to each other they would cross the river by force and kill any of those animals that got in their way, but first they needed a plan.
After another day of careful observing, it became obvious to all of them the weak link was the Second Street Bridge. It would be their only chance of crossing with their vehicle. While many in this gang were military in appearance, it soon became apparent their procedures were not. The guards at all the bridges were living at the compound on the JFK and would walk to their assignments. They were running on eight-hour shifts “in theory” but the theory and reality were hardly the same.
Their replacements would often show up minutes or occasionally hours late, once not coming at all. Guards would frequently leave their post unattended if their replacements kept them waiting more than a few minutes. Most times the bridge had six guards on it although they noted a few instances when it was down to only four. The blockade was another major problem. Despite being the smallest of all the passable bridges it would still take time to clear.
Between the three of them they finally came up with a plan that seemed to have some chance of success. It was decided that the man, because he was the only one with a scoped rifle and experience with it, would cross the river after sundown by way of the old railroad drawbridge at Fourteenth Street. It was still assessable on foot and there were two guards there he would have to kill quietly, one on each side. Edgar said he could borrow his “killing” knife. He would then make his way back up river and find a covered position, one he could snipe from on the Indiana end of the bridge and wait. There were several industrial buildings on that side ideal for the job. At the same time the boys would quietly bring the Humvee right around the corner from the bridge, just out of view. Then all th
ree would wait for just the right moment. The man would, at the designated time, kill the three guards on the north side of the bridge while the boys killed those on the south. The man would then wait for the boys to clear the obstacles and fire on any guards coming on his side. It was decided the best time to try this was right after 11:00 p.m. They reasoned the midnight shift would soon be ending and the guards would be tired and more careless. The cover of darkness would also give them a much better chance of success and escape if pursued.
There were some questionable parts of their plan. The bridge was blocked by eleven cars tightly packed across the vehicle lanes at the center of the bridge, three rows of three and another two in the middle, on the Kentucky side. Only three cars on the left needed to be moved to clear the obstruction. With a heavy chain they already had, the boys thought the Humvee could drag the cars back out of the way, if they had enough time. How much time they had was another worry. While eliminating the six guards would be a problem, the question of reinforcements, exactly how many, and more importantly how soon they were coming, was the biggest concern.
From all of their observing they didn’t think the gang had any type of radio communication. Guards were dispatched at regular intervals with nothing but a bag lunch and gun. A few times guards were noticed conversing with crude hand signals with others in their line of sight.
As for reinforcements, the only ones that would be coming would be guards from the other bridges approaching on foot or one or more of their trucks from the compound. The trucks had three ways of approaching and their best estimate was they had no more than five or six minutes once the first shots were fired. They had exactly that much time to take out the sentries, drag three derelict cars back out of the way, one at a time, then get out of there before help arrived, if they were lucky only from the Kentucky side.
As the three of them formulated the plan, the man listened with admiration to the two professional soldiers talking. Up until then he had thought of them more as boys, but with this could no longer see them in that light, after days of living and working together he also thought of the two now as friends.
Joshua (Book 1) Page 16
