THE TOCABAGA CHRONICELS: (BOX SET PART II - BOOKS #6-8)

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THE TOCABAGA CHRONICELS: (BOX SET PART II - BOOKS #6-8) Page 11

by Thomas H. Ward


  I informed my men, “Listen up, here’s what I wanna do. I’ll take one Hummer and follow the KANG gang down 22nd Avenue. Tommy and Jim Bo, you’re with me. The rest of you head back to Tocabaga and get ready for battle. If the DRAGON men come down the Road of Death let them have it. Anyone who wants to kill and eat us is going to die.”

  My men concurred and we headed back to the vehicles parked at the Armory. I decided to call Rico and warn him about the cannibals roaming around our area. Rico offered his help but I advised him to stay put and be on full alert. I informed him of my plan and the fact that they may be headed to Tocabaga.

  My men headed back to the island while the three of us zoomed down 22nd Avenue after the gang. Along the way, every now and then, we saw a burning body or car. These bad guys would kill and burn anyone they saw.

  We were going over the Pasadena Bridge to St. Petersburg Beach; which provides a clear view for about a half mile down the road. Tommy, standing in the gun turret, yelled, “Slow down! Stop! There’s someone in the street about five hundred yards ahead.”

  I stopped and turned off the motor. Looking through his binoculars Tommy commented, “He has a yellow bandanna around his neck and an AK. He’s a Dragon boy.”

  I coasted down the bridge with the motor off, careful not to make any noise, and pulled off the road near some bushes behind an old rusted car. Out of sight we sat there for a few minutes visually searching the entire area for more people.

  “Do you see anyone else?” I asked Tommy.

  “Nope, no one else is around.”

  “What do you think he’s doing by himself?”

  “Maybe he’s the rear guard. Let’s capture him and find out what he knows.”

  I asked, “How we gonna to do that? If he’s the rear guard then the main force must be close by.”

  “I’ll shoot him with the 308. I’ll just wound him. Using my silencer no one will hear the shots. Then we just drive up and question him, if he’s still alive.”

  Jim Bo stated, “Sounds good, let’s do it.”

  I nodded my head for Tommy to proceed.

  Tommy dismounted and started creeping forward, keeping low using bushes for cover. He was within a hundred yards and laid prone on the ground to steady his aim.

  Just as Tommy was taking aim the guy turned around and looked in our direction. Tommy had a perfect shot. POP … the man was hit in the shoulder and dropped his AK47. He was knocked to the ground by the impact of the bullet. Then Tommy shot one of the guy’s legs. He couldn’t move and was ours for the taking.

  The .308 caliber, 168 grain Bob Tailed Hollow Point cartridge, is a devastating round. At one hundred yards the velocity is 2,600 ft/sec. and it provides 2,670 lb/ ft of energy. It can kill an elephant with no problem.

  I started the motor, picked up Tommy, and drove to the KANG boy. We jumped out with Jim Bo standing guard as Tommy and I stepped up to him. He was on the ground bleeding and writhing in pain. My guess was we didn’t have long to question him, before he would bleed to death.

  The DRAGON boy was about eighteen years old. He looked undernourished with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. There was a two inch hole in his right shoulder and he was shot in one leg. The bullet hit his femoral artery and broke the femur bone. His leg was bent backwards in a grotesque manner and he was slowly bleeding out. He couldn’t move his body, but twisted his head up to look at us. He mumbled in pain, “Why … y’all shoot me?”

  I questioned him, “Where’s your gang?”

  “Mister, please help me.” He was getting weaker by the second. Tommy tied a tourniquet around his leg. He yelled out in pain as the tourniquet was tightened to stop the bleeding.

  “Ok, we stopped the bleeding. Now tell us where your gang is at?”

  “They’re at the hotel with the big tower. Man, give me some pain killer!”

  I ordered, “Tell us where your DRAGON gang is going next.”

  “Man, I don’t know. I’m just a soldier.”

  “Did you capture a man yesterday?”

  “Yeah, we found a guy.”

  “Where’s he at?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s dead. Who are you guys?”

  “We’re the guys who killed BOKO KANG last night,” Tommy replied.

  “You didn’t kill the … DRAGON. The DRAGON has many … heads.” The kid slumped over. The life had drained out of him so Tommy released the tourniquet and his blood flowed onto the sidewalk.

  Tommy asked, “What the hell did he mean the DRAGON has many heads?”

  “Damn, I don’t know, but I do know you killed the DRAGON.”

  Tommy said, “Well, we know where they are, but we still don’t know about Brogan. It’s not looking good.” Tom began to search his body. “Hey, this guy has a radio. I’ll bring it along. Maybe we can use it.”

  The radio was a standard hand held model good for a six mile range at best. It was tuned to channel four.

  Turning to Jim Bo, I said, “Grab his yellow bandanna and gun maybe we can use them.” The sun was setting and the sky was turning bright orange. “It’s getting late so let’s go. We’ll backtrack the way we came so no one spots us.”

  After washing the blood off our hands we mounted up and drove back to Tocabaga. Arriving at our sanctuary it was almost dark as we went to the bar for a drink. Tony was there and questioned me. “Did you find Brogan?”

  “Sorry we didn’t find him. We don’t even know if he’s alive. We captured one of the DRAGON boys and he told us that Brogan was probably dead. Right now the gang is at the old Tower Hotel.”

  “Well … let’s go look for him. Every minute counts.”

  “It’s late and we need some rest. We can’t do any more today. The KANG group might come here tomorrow so we better be ready. Right now we can’t do anything to help Brogan even if he’s alive.”

  “Let’s meet here at 9 a.m. and discuss what we’ll do tomorrow.”

  We wound up the meeting and I went home to my wife and kids. I was too pooped to stay awake and fell into bed. The bed felt great, but as I lay there, thoughts of Brogan kept haunting me.

  Tomorrow we might have a major battle with the DRAGON men, but I wasn’t worried about that. We’ve defeated better gangs and even the Feds. What did that kid mean the DRAGON has many heads?

  It really bugged me that Brogan was Missing in Action. Even if we find him how would we rescue him? Maybe we could make a trade of some kind. Maybe we’ll need to use force to free our friend. I know one thing: I’ll never give up looking for Brogan and neither will my men.

  JULY 6, 2025

  After breakfast with the family my crew and I went to the gun safe located in my garage. We removed our M4 carbines, Glock hand-guns, and slipped on bullet proof vests. On top of that we wear our tactical vests. Everyone in my family wears the same identical combat gear and carries the same type of weapons. It’s my policy that we all use the same weapons.

  On the front left hand side of our tactical vests and on the back we wear a small Velcro American Flag. This allows us too quickly identify each other in the heat of combat and helps prevent being shot by friendly fire.

  My crew is my family and close friends. We have practiced shooting and close-quarter combat techniques for years. We are a unit or team that can move and shoot together. We think alike because of years of training.

  It was raining lightly and a big storm was headed our way. I could hear the thunder off in the distance and see the thunderheads rising in the sky. The four of us climbed into the Hummer and drove to the bar for the meeting.

  Summer storms usually only last a few hours unless it’s a big front or a tropical storm. Tropical storms can last for days and winds can reach up to 70 mph. We haven’t had a hurricane here in 20 years, probably due to global climate change.

  We have noticed the water level has only risen by a few inches but that’s not a problem because we have at least two feet before it goes over the sea walls. Long term weather reports obtained from the Army infor
m us that global cooling is now taking place, not global warming. A new ice age is now forming. An ice age would mean that thousands of people would migrate to Florida to escape the freezing year-around weather.

  Reports advise that the northern part of the United States could cool off very fast because the Gulf Stream has almost stopped flowing. The Gulf Stream carries the warm water to the northern east coast states, all the way to the Arctic Circle, and over to Europe. This is what keeps the Glaciers from growing out of control.

  Back in 2010 when they were screaming that global warming was starting due to carbon dioxide levels increasing, they were completely wrong. It was the start of a natural cooling cycle that has been repeated since the beginning of time. Slight global warming always precedes the ice age.

  We’ve noticed that it’s not as hot here as it use to be. Normally in July temperatures would reach 98 degrees. Now it rarely goes over 94 degrees. So something is happening to the climate.

  Looking at a map of the last ice age, which was about 13,000 years ago, the glaciers grew at an alarming rate and covered Canada down to the tip of Ohio. It is estimated that it only took a year for the temperature to drop to freezing. People can’t live in those conditions for very long. Once the hoards of people start to migrate here it will cause major problems. Food and housing will be affected by the large increase in population.

  I called the meeting to order. “Ok, I’m open to any suggestions as to what we should do to find Brogan.” In attendance were Tony, Tommy, Ron, Jim Bo, Chris, and Rick. These are some of my best shooters and most trusted security team members.

  Tommy advised, “If this storm gets worse then I suggest we make up a crew and go to the hotel and search for him when it gets dark.”

  “Why wait until dark?” Tony asked.

  “Night is the best time to sneak and peek. The storm will help us move around without being noticed because most of their men will be inside or under cover.”

  “I say we go now. Let’s have a vote.” Tony raised his hand but no one else did.

  Tommy said, “I’ve been on a hundred sniper missions. I’m not going in the day time, rain or no rain. I wanna stay alive and the best way to do that is at night.” A few spoke up and stated that Tommy was right. Night is the best time to sneak around unseen.

  “Alright we go tonight as soon as it gets dark,” I advised. “Now let’s make a detailed plan and decide who goes. My idea is to park two Hummers at the apex of the Beach Bridge. These will provide backup for us in case we need to make a fast exit. In addition I want two more men armed with M249 machine guns.

  “Tommy you’re in charge of the mission, so who do you want to tag along with you?”

  “I only need you and Jim Bo.”

  Tony spoke up. “Hey, I’d like to come.”

  There was silence in the room. Tony is one of our best shooters, but he is not in the best of shape. Tony is a big guy at six feet four inches tall and pushes about 300 pounds. That makes him an easy target for the bad guys. When you’re that big it’s pretty hard to hide behind a small bush.

  Tommy responded, “Tony, we need you to man a fifty on the bridge. We’ll be moving fast and I don’t want you to get captured. If they capture you they’ll have a feast.” Everyone laughed at that comment, but Tommy was serious.

  “That’s very funny, Tommy. However, I see your point so I’ll man a fifty.”

  “Ok, good. The Hummers will drive us across the bridge and then we’ll proceed on foot to the Tower Hotel. I suggest we take the beach and stay off the streets.”

  I replied, “I agree.” Taking the beach will be tougher going because of the deep sand, but it will also be noiseless. It’s about a five mile hike one way.

  “We need to have suppressors on our M4s. Bring 200 rounds of ammunition, some water, and radios. We should tie a yellow bandanna around our necks to make us look like one of them. I’ll bring the radio I found on the DRAGON boy. Are there any questions?” Tommy asked.

  Looking at Tommy, Rick asked, “How long do you think the mission will take?”

  “I guess about four hours, but who knows. You guys stay on the bridge no matter how long we’re gone. We’ll radio you to come and pick us up if we get in a bind.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Jim Bo and Dad, we’ll wear our usual camouflage fatigues and black face paint. Ok, if nothing else we meet at the bridge at 8 p.m.” We both nodded our heads. Our combat fatigues are breathable and wick the sweat off your body, while keeping you dry from the rain.

  The meeting was adjourned and we went home to rest and have some lunch. There would be no dinner tonight. I never eat before going on a mission because I don’t want any unexpected stops to relieve myself. Stopping to take a dump could get you killed.

  I spent the time getting my gear ready and then played checkers with the grandkids. We sat on the patio watching and listening to the peaceful rain falling. There’s something about the rain that makes you feel relaxed and cozy. It was agreed that Ron, my brother, would stay home and watch after the family.

  The storm blew in and it was raining cats and dogs when 8 p.m. came around. Big rain drops were pouring down and the wind was gusting to 30 mph, almost blowing the rain sideways. The thunder was loud and continous, what we call rolling thunder. The rumble seems to never end. Every now and then we would hear a very loud crack and see the bright flash of a lightning strike. This weather would provide us a natural cover.

  Standing in my garage, I checked Tommy for loose gear and then he checked us. We removed our American Flag patches and placed them in the gun safe. We were prepared for the wet weather with our water proof fatigues and combat boots. We each had M4s with sound suppressors’ and of course our Glock side arms. I strapped on my Black Bear fighting knife which has saved my life more than once.

  We smeared black camo paint on our faces and then slipped on our bullet proof vests putting the black tactical vests over top. Each of us tied a yellow bandanna around our necks identifying us as DRAGON men. We were traveling light with only 200 rounds of ammo and a gallon of water in our camel backs. All our gear and clothing probably weighed about Forty pounds.

  We pulled up our collars and donned our boonie hats to keep the rain off our heads. Tony, Chris, Rick, and Maggie walked up in the pouring rain. Maggie would operate one of the machine guns if needed. They were already soaked from the big pounding rain drops. The temperature had dropped to 60 degrees.

  I commented, “You know, you’re gonna freeze up on the bridge with the wind blowing. I’d wear some warmer clothes.”

  “We’ll be ok if we stay in the Hummers,” Rick commented.

  I shook my head and said, “Mount up.”

  It was dark as we mounted up except for a lightning strike now and then. Our security guards wished us good luck as our trucks rumbled across the Tocabaga Bridge. Riding with Tony I told him, “Take us all the way across the Beach Bridge and then pull back to the apex and wait there. If you see anything give us a shout on channel fifteen.”

  “Roger that, if we see anything, we’ll let you know.”

  “Stay awake and alert.” Tony just nodded his head because he didn’t like me telling him something so obvious.

  The trucks stopped and the three of us dismounted. Maggie yelled, “Good luck guys.” We jogged in a low crouch, towards the beach, passing by the old pink hotel. I recall that President Bush stayed there doing a visit years ago. It was a hotel for the rich and famous once, but now it’s a home for the poor and Free Roamers. Most of the windows are broken and in this storm it must leak like a sieve.

  CRACK … a bolt of lightning struck the water, a few hundred yards out in the gulf, and we all jumped from the noise, but kept heading north to the Tower.

  The sand was wet and it stuck to our boots. Walking in wet sand is like walking with glue on your boots. It makes each step twice as difficult. Every step you take your foot slides backwards a little and impedes your forward progress.

  Tommy had th
e point and Jim Bo the rear guard.

  Jim Bo commented, “Walking in this shit is tough going.”

  I laughed and replied, “Wait until you gotta run in it.” I used to run in the sand all the time to increase my endurance. I forgot how strenuous walking in the sand could be and found myself quickly out of breath. The rain was still beating down and visibility was only about 50 yards.

  I heard thunder off in the distance but it sounded different. It sounded like a cannon or explosives. Tommy held up his hand signaling for us to halt. We stopped and gathered around him behind some bushes. He looked at me and said, “Did you hear that?”

  “Yeah, it sounded like cannon fire,” I replied.

  “I didn’t hear anything,” Jim Bo commented.

  “Listen.” We heard it again. There were two distinct BOOMS.

  We peered down the beach looking in both directions for flashes of light, but saw none. Tommy moved forward again with us following in his footsteps.

  After 30 minutes we stopped and huddled together. Tommy advised us, “Check your guns, lock, and load.”

  Pulling out my camel-back hose, I took a big swig of water. The rain was not letting up, but at anytime it could. That’s the way it rains here in Florida. It pours like crazy and then just stops.

  Sitting on an old log that washed ashore, I looked up and saw a flash of light. Then I heard the … BOOM! I said, “Over there. I saw a flash of light right before the explosion.”

  “Where at?” Tommy inquired.

  “Over there.” I pointed at the water about a mile off shore.

  “That’s in the water. Are you sure?”

  “I don’t know. There’s a lot of thunder and lightning. Maybe it was a reflection off the water. It’s still raining hard so I’m not a hundred percent sure.” Florida is the lightning capital of the United States. Each year a few people are killed by lightning in Florida.

  The wind from the storm was blowing from the east-southeast which means the west side of the state, near the beach, would have smaller waves. Further out in the Gulf of Mexico the waves were probably 15 to 20 feet, but in shore they were running two to three feet.

 

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