Seeking Safe Harbor: Suddenly Everything Changed (The Seeking Series)

by Albert Correia

  Four of the Militiamen led the two captives over toward the Sheriff’s Office for safe keeping in the jail. They shuffled along after leg chains were secured in place and they were handcuffed. The Sheriff was coming down the street in his Patrol car and he pulled alongside, “What do we have here, Ranger?”

  The man eyed the Sheriff for a brief moment before speaking. He had a deep voice and it was obvious he was tired when he said, “We caught these two going through some baggage and an abandoned cart about twenty miles outside of town as we were returning from Patrol. They didn’t have a satisfactory answer as to why they were doing the ransacking and they freely admitted the things weren’t their own. We decided to arrest them and let someone else get to the bottom of what they were up to. I don’t know that they did anything wrong,” he shrugged, “but I don’t know they didn’t, either. It’s not our say, it’s going to have to be someone else making that decision.”

  Reaching into his pocket, he continued, “we did find these papers on them and I think you and the Admiral will find them interesting. My lips are sealed.”

  The Sheriff took the papers and said, “Okay son, have your men take them down to my office and have them locked up. The Deputy there can help you.” With that, he let his foot ease off the brake and slowly took off. He stuffed the papers into the separation between the seat and the backrest of the passenger seat.

  Several minutes later, the group arrived at the Jail and Sheriff’s Office and they went inside. Marcy was there at her desk and a Deputy was working on some paperwork. They both looked up as the six men came through the door. Two of the Militia escorted the captives over to a wooden bench, sat them down, and stood on either side of them.

  A third Militia man approached the desk, “I was instructed to bring these prisoners to the jail by our Sergeant. We will assist you in taking them to their cells and if you don’t mind, we’d like to take the handcuffs and leg chains with us.”

  Marcy smiled and nodded her head. “Will, lock these two up.” Will got up from his desk and walked toward the door which led to the cells.

  “This way, men.” The five of them went through the door and three of them returned to the front office about five minutes later.

  “What are those two being charged with?” Marcy asked.

  “Can’t say, ma’am,” said the one who had originally spoke up. “We were just told to bring them over here and have them locked up.”

  “Can you at least give me a name of those two?”

  “No ma’am, that’s all we know.” Marcy looked at them for a moment and decided to skip any further questioning. She would get to the bottom of this soon enough.

  “Okay boys, thanks.” They all smiled and left.

  The Deputy said, “That was kind of strange.”

  Marcy replied, “It’s a strange world we live in these days. Nothing will ever be the way it was before the war. Maybe we need a social so all us law enforcement types can get to know one another better!”

  Will chuckled, “Well, I know they’re tired. Looks like they were rode hard and put up wet.”

  An hour later the Sheriff came in to his office. As he walked in the door he asked, “Our two new guests make it here safely?”

  Marcy cocked her head toward the door and raised a hand and her thumb went up as her fingers made a fist and she rocked it from side to side toward the door to the cells.

  The Sheriff looked toward the door and said, “Good.”

  He turned and went into his private office and shut the door. He took out the papers he had been given by the Rangers and began to read. He stayed there until he heard Mike Reynolds in the front office.

  “Is the Sheriff in?” he could heard through the door.

  “You know where to find him,” came the muffled reply.

  “Thanks,” he said as he turned the knob on the door, letting himself in, and closing it behind him. Even with hearing it all, he was distracted by the papers he was reading and didn’t look up until Mike cleared his throat.

  Waving Mike to a chair, he said, “Please… make yourself at home. Need anything?”

  Mike said, “No, sir.” He leaned forward in his chair, “Sheriff, I think we may have a couple of valuable assets locked up in your cells.”

  It was the Sheriff’s turn to leaned forward as he said in low voice, “You have no idea, my friend.”

  “What do you mean, Bob?”

  The Sheriff handed him the papers and said, “Read these.”

  Mike leaned back in his chair and began to read. He looked up several times with a questioning look on his face before continuing to read. He eventually looked up and said, “It’s going to have to be verified, of course. And,” he sighed, “it’s going to take some digging. Did I mention it’s going to be a dangerous job.”

  The Sheriff was in agreement, “Mike, this sounds pretty serious.”

  “It’s so serious that I’m not comfortable talking about it here. What say we go for a ride and I’ll explain?”

  They both got up and walked toward the door to the office. “Before we leave,” Mike suggested, “how about you make sure nobody talks to those two prisoners?”

  “I guess you’ll explain that later, too?” the Sheriff mentioned.

  Mike just raised an eyebrow and the corner of his lips raised.

  “You got it, Mike.” He paused and motioned, “Age before beauty.”

  “Guess I should go last and first, then!” Mike laughed as he stepped through the door into the outer office.

  “Marcy, Will,” the Sheriff addressed them, “Can you please get those two something to eat and drink, and don’t let anyone talk to them or come and see them without my explicit orders, okay?”

  “You got it, Sheriff.”

  2. Chicago

  THE PATROL CAR traveled toward the airport and the Sheriff was getting nervous, “Well Mike, what do you think?”

  “I think we may have a big problem in Chicago.”

  “That’s an understatement. If these papers are true, we’re talking treason on a huge scale”

  Mike sighed as he let the breath out of his lungs. He sat there watching things go by out the window until he said with resignation, “If it’s true, and the man who says he is our legitimate President, is not, we’re going to have to do something about it.”

  The Sheriff pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped. Getting out, he leaned on the hood and lifted his hat long enough to scratch his forehead. “Wow! This is a bit of news. Just what do you propose we do about it?”

  “Whatever we do,” Mike’s mind continued to race as he spoke, “we’re going to have to walk a fine line, and we cannot, under any circumstances, let anyone know what we have found out. Our next move should be to find the Militiamen who originally took them and ensure their lips are sealed.”

  “Already done.” he bowed his head and said, “Mike, we’ve weathered a world war, almost everyone on earth has died, and we have struggled to protect and feed ourselves. We’ve lost friends to these senseless battles we’ve had to fight and now this? When does it end?”

  Mike looked his friend in the eye and said, “It doesn’t. Not until we die. We just take it moment by moment, and hope to God things come out in the end.” He took a deep breath. “There’s more.”

  “More?” The was disbelief in his voice, “For Heaven’s sake, how could there be more?” He paused a moment, “Well, what is it?”

  “Well, I only got bits and pieces of it, but those two men you have in your jail were seen parachuting in from a plane yesterday and it’s clear they were trying to get to Wormwood. The new President is somehow aligned with Mr. Avlin Cobb, or Slasher, or whatever the heck that scums calls himself these days.”

  “Jesus, Mike. This is bad.”

  “You can say that again.” He suddenly straightened up, “But no matter what, we have to make sure those guys never make it to Wormwood and tell their stories.”

  “What are we gonna do Mike?”


  “The only thing we can do Sheriff, take them out of that cell tonight when everyone is asleep and shoot them in the head. At least that’s what they’ll think we’re gonna do. There’s an abandoned and little-known miner’s cabin a few miles from Avalon that we can stash them at with a few guards we trust until we know more. They may prove useful to us, or we may have trial. In the meantime, I have to come up with an excuse to get myself to Chicago.”

  “Mike, what if what we’ve heard isn’t true?”

  Mike stared at the ground, taking a full minute before answering, “I’ll interrogate the two we have tonight before we do anything further. I have a few tricks up my sleeve and with any luck, we’ll at least get some answers we can use. We need to get that paperwork to a safe place, too. We cannot lose it under any circumstances.”

  “I’ll see to it; I will guard it with my life.”

  Gravel crunched as Mike, The Sheriff and Randy walked toward the Jail. It sounded much louder than it actually was in the cool night air as the men trudged along with grim determination. The Sheriff fumbled with the keys to the office before inserting one into the keyway.

  A click sounded as the key was turned and then it clicked again as the Sheriff turned it a second time, engaging the small pistons that completed the sequence. The door opened with a small push and the three men walked toward the cell area.

  A small lantern attached to the wall cast a dim light that barely lit the area. It was enough for them to head directly toward the large door that led to the cells. Another key opened that lock and the Sheriff opened it. The hinges squeaked with a high pitch and stopped once the door was fully opened. He looked to the left when he entered and could see the form of the Deputy sound asleep off to one side on a cot. The Sheriff approached the sleeping Deputy and gently shook his shoulder.

  The Deputy woke up and the Sheriff said, “Go on home, Jeff. We’ll take over now.”

  The Deputy rose from the cot into a sitting position and reached down to put his shoes on. He said, “What’s going on Sheriff?”

  The Sheriff put a finger up to his lips and said, “Quiet, I’ll tell you all about it in the morning. Go home now and don’t worry about anything. Keep this to yourself.”

  The Deputy had a questioning look come over his face and the Sheriff said, “I promise you, I’ll let you know in the morning. Now, go home and surprise that lovely wife of yours and we’ll take care of things here.”

  The Deputy reached over for his jacket on a hook above the cot and put it on. He then picked up his hat which was sitting on a chair next to the cot, put it on his head, and walked toward the door. A minute later they heard the outer door shut, as well.

  “Let’s chain them up, Sheriff. We don’t want these guys to run if they get the chance.” The Sheriff nodded his head as they walked to the first cell and opened it.

  There was a rasping, clicking noise as the door was unlocked and the Sheriff pulled it open. The Sheriff approached the sleeping man and woke him up with a gentle shake on his shoulder. The man woke up and said, “Whaaa!”

  “Stand up.” When the man stood, the Sheriff and Randy put a chain on his waist and then fastened handcuffs to each wrist, secured to the chain. Then they fastened leg irons and chains to his ankles. “This one’s ready.”

  They moved to the next cell and repeated the same procedure on the second prisoner.

  “Sheriff,” Mike spoke softly, despite the fact they were alone, “please move this prisoner out to the other room. We’ll be there in a moment.” The Sheriff and the one prisoner walked toward the door that led to the outer office area.

  As they were leaving, Mike turned to the second prisoner, “We know what brought you boys to our neck of the woods,” Mike was still speak low, but this time his voice was ominous. “We read the letters and the orders from the President to Alvin Cobb at Wormwood. We have simple ways of dealing with traitors. Get on your knees.”

  The man balked, but Mike put a foot to the back of his leg behind his knee cap and pushed down. The man went to his knees at the same moment Randy allowed the door to stick on the doorjam behind Mike, not completely shut.

  Mike spoke in a voice loud enough to be heard muffled through the door, “I don’t know if you are a religious man, but I’ll give you the opportunity to pray to God. I’m a Christian man and I believe that is the only right thing to do.” He then pulled a silencer out of his pocket and slowly began to screw it on to the barrel of his pistol, simply staring as the man as he did so.

  The prisoner began to sweat profusely, and he then started to protest, “This ain’t right! You can’t do this!” Stopping abruptly, his voice became strained and pleading, “Why are you doing this?”

  “You know why,” Mike still spoke loud enough to be heard. “We can’t afford to keep and feed you, and we have come to the conclusion this is our only option. This is what results when people take sides. Specifically in your case, the wrong side. Treason only warrants one penalty and that is death. I told you it was simple.”

  The man’s eyes bulged as he swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We haven’t done anything wrong!”

  Mike eyed the man with the most evil look he could imagine and answered him, “Let’s cut to the chase and quit screwing around. We know the two of you were sent here to spy on us, and we know you are connected to the people in Wormwood. The letter from the President spelled it all out. We also know the plan is to take over California and the oil deposits. We now know that fake came to be the President, and unfortunately for you and your buddy out there, you’re going to have to pay the price for what you were going to do.”

  “Pray, damn you,” Mike reached up and chambered a round, “This is the only opportunity you’ll have before you die. Do it or go wherever it is you’re going to go to without the benefit of asking for forgiveness.”

  The man’s composure crumbled and he began to babble. Mike couldn’t understand him so he said, “I can’t understand you. Calm down, get hold of yourself, and start over. I want details. Stop crying like a baby. You’re a man, so start acting like one.”

  As the prisoner began to spill his guts, Randy pushed the door shut, effectively blocking the sound. The plan was elaborate and brazen, but with the right people and equipment in place, it could work. They were facing the beginnings of a Dictatorship.

  Mike looked at Randy, who cracked open the door. At that moment, Mike raised his pistol and fired two shots. The prisoner crumpled to the deck with a thud as Mike kicked him into the wall so hard that it knocked him out. He then unscrewed the silencer and placed it back in his pocket as he turned, grinning in the dim light.

  “Take care of the body, will ya?” he said over his shoulder as he opened the door.

  Mike then walked into the outer room and grabbed the other prisoner by the shirt, dragging him over next to the lantern as he forced him to the ground. He pulled his pistol out of his waist and held it up in the lantern light. He did the same thing as before, being deliberate as he took the silencer out of a pocket and began to screw it on to the barrel of the pistol slowly.

  Looking the prisoner in the eye as he continued his task, he spoke in his low voice once again, “The penalty for treason is death. I’ll give you the same opportunity as your scumbag partner to ask forgiveness from your maker before I put a bullet in your brain.”

  The man looked at Mike with a cold stare. The corners of his mouth dipped down as he spit in Mike’s face and said, “You can kill me, but your day will come when the Republic becomes what it is destined to be – the New Order.”

  Mike leveled his pistol at the man’s face. What he saw in the other man’s made it clear he wouldn’t be getting any information from him at this time. He slowly squeezed the trigger.

  Click.

  The man flinched and looked away, giving Mike what he knew would be a chance during their next encounter.

  “Okay, Randy!” he said through the door. The door opened and Randy pushed the first prisoner throug
h, unharmed.

  “What the…?” the prisoner next to him asked confused as his snapped his head back up.

  “We’re not vigilantes like the dirt bags you normally associate with. We know what you’re up to, but you’ll still be given a trial. For now, you’re going to… disappear. Until we figure out if you can be useful to us, that is.”

  Mike landed his plane at Avalon as the sun was breaking the horizon. Randy, the Sheriff, and both prisoners were his only cargo. The all walked to the motor pool where Mike reached in the back a drawer for the keys to a four wheel drive SUV.

  Handing them to Randy, he spoke to both men. “There’s a map in the glove box to the cabin. Randy, you drive. Sheriff, you keep your gun aimed at one or the other. Be careful of the bumps, mind you. We don’t want any accidents to happen along the way.”

  “Yeah,” said Randy, “that’d be a true shame.”

  “What do we do when we get there?” the Sheriff asked.

  “There are enough supplies to last a few weeks already on station. Don’t worry, though. Once you get them secured, have Randy keep watch over them and you bring the vehicle back. It’ll be missed if it’s not back by tonight.”

  “Randy, I’ve got a few men in mind that I’ll send to relieve you tomorrow morning at dawn. They’ll take it from there, but they need an extra day to finish their cover stories.”

  “Got it, Mike,” Randy replied. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

  “When I learned of their jump and the direction they were headed, I wasn’t sure how it would turn out, but this seemed a likely course of action. So yeah, I tried to, at least.”

  “What are you gonna do, in the meantime?”

  “Just a sec,” Mike said. After laying the two prisoners in the back of the SUV on their sides, Mike shut the hatch and turned to his colleagues.

  “While you to go on your little camping excursion, I’ll compose a message for the President telling him we found two dead parachutists. It’ll mention that it appears they had been murdered and searched by persons unknown to us. They had no identification on them, whatsoever. We gave them a Christian burial and thought that since they had parachuted down here, that either the President knew who they were, or if not, perhaps he would want to know about the incident. Since we aren’t aware of many people having airplanes or parachutes other than Chicago and ourselves, it’ll be natural to ask him if he has any comment concerning this development. We’ll wait for an answer, but I’m guessing it will give us enough of a cover story to make a trip to see the imposter ourselves.”