Outlaws of the Midwest | Book 2 | Panic Ensues

by Hunt, Jack

  “Me first then you can go next,” one said laughing as he handed off his rifle to his buddy and began to undo his belt. Acting fast, Gunnar brought his rifle up and got the one soldier holding the door up in his crosshair.

  The round echoed as his skull disappeared in a mist of red.

  In a flash, he darted into a new position waiting for the soldiers to emerge.

  He heard one of them scramble over to his fallen friend and a second later, the dead body was tugged back into the kitchen to let the door close. Gunnar knew he only had seconds before they would radio for help, if they had a radio on them. Not all of the soldiers carried them.

  He raced across the room, muzzle flashes lit up the darkness as he dove for cover, his body sliding across the waxed floor. Now he knew where they were positioned he took a direct approach and headed for the doorway, firing several rounds through in the hopes one or two bullets might take one of them out.

  No such luck.

  A barrage of gunfire speared windows behind him, shattering and tearing up seating. Gunnar remained still, his back pressed hard against a table, waiting for it to end. As soon as he heard a magazine clatter, he was up and darting for the door. Before he reached it he noticed a head appear above the open window that separated the serving area from the kitchen. One round to the face and the guy was gone, leaving his buddy scrambling to reload.

  Instead of coming through the door as the soldier might have expected, Gunnar launched himself into the pass-through window and landed on top of the soldier.

  He landed with such force that the soldier fell backward and slammed against the floor. Unfortunately, he didn’t go unconscious and instead grabbed Gunnar’s rifle with both hands.

  Gunnar pressed down, trying to get it under his chin so he could crush his windpipe.

  He stared into the soldiers eyes, a look of fear and hatred mixed reflected back.

  The moment of struggle ended as fast as it had started as a dark mass appeared over his shoulder and drove a knife into the man’s right eye.

  It was brutal, unexpected but gladly accepted.

  When Gunnar shifted, he looked up to see a young woman. In the dim light, he didn’t recognize her. She still had on underwear but her bra was torn exposing her ever so slightly. She staggered back, a look of shock spreading. Gunnar’s gaze roamed the rest of the kitchen for threats.

  “Any more?” he asked.

  She shook her head, unable to tear away her eyes from the dead soldier.

  Getting off the dead man, Gunnar yanked his rifle free from the guy’s grip and scooped up the additional ammo from his flak jacket. He slung both their weapons over his shoulder and extended a hand. “The name’s Gunnar. My wife and several others are over at the hotel.”

  When the girl didn’t respond he set the weapons down.

  Noticing that her clothes were torn apart and no longer useful, he offered his jacket.

  “Here, take this.” She stared at it then met his gaze. “Go on. Cover yourself.” The woman had dark shoulder-length hair, piercing blue eyes, and multiple cuts on her lips. She was roughly five foot ten and an average size, early twenties. Keeping one arm over her breasts she hesitantly took his jacket and slipped into it.

  “Do you have family?”

  She shook her head. He didn’t ask if they’d been shot. The trauma was painted on her face. “Look, you can stay here or come with me but I can tell you there are more of them out there. I promise I won’t hurt you.” When she didn’t say anything he just decided to leave. It took him until he was halfway across the gas station lot to see that she was following.

  14

  Branson

  “Let me get this right,” Miles said, looking on with a puzzled expression. “No militia leaders were killed, and that meeting in Springfield was a cover for an operation to extract the president’s daughter?” He rose from his seat and backed up, shaking his head. “Where do I even begin?” He paced back and forth. “What about Duke Banning?”

  “Still alive,” Maddox replied.

  “But we were told he’s dead.”

  “False. He’s very much alive just hidden as are the rest at least until Darius is back.”

  Miles raised a finger. “But it happened. People died.”

  “Not leaders. Only those willing to risk their lives for the cause.”

  “For the cause?”

  He nodded.

  “We are talking about people who died.”

  “Yeah, it’s unfortunate collateral damage but in order to find out who was behind the leaks—”

  Miles closed his eyes and interrupted Maddox. “Are you telling me those militia leaders knew there would be an ambush and yet they willingly let those people take the fall?”

  “Yes. No. I mean… listen, no one knew for sure. It was a hunch. When it would happen, how it would happen and by who, that was a mystery. It could have been any time. Anywhere. It just happened to be then.”

  “Yeah right. But you knew.”

  Maddox jabbed a finger at himself. “Not me, buddy. I’m just a regular joe like yourself, a close friend of Darius.” He sighed. “Look, I know it’s confusing but you have to understand that there is no way on God’s green earth they would have agreed to meet in one space, at one time under these circumstances without knowing for sure they would survive. That’s why Arianna has had a difficult time bringing them together. It’s not because they don’t want to work toward the same goal, it’s because it’s too risky.”

  “But what about the sharing of intel, the discussion of destabilizing the PLA?”

  “It occurred, on the same day, elsewhere.”

  “But Arlo believes they’re dead.”

  “He believes what he’s been told. Again, everyone is on a—”

  “Need to know basis. Right. Yeah, already heard that spiel.” Miles ran a hand over his head, unable to grasp the extent that people were willing to go to in order to protect their own. Innocent lives cut down all to shield a few at the top. What else had they held back from them? He was beginning to regret agreeing to help. Arianna felt it was a step in the right direction toward something bigger. She just didn’t know what. No one did except a handful. The political nature of keeping things on the down-low was starting to get on his nerves. The more that was withheld, the greater the risk. Then again, how many military operations happened where soldiers only knew a piece of the picture? Where they’d been told one thing but it was a cover for another?

  Maddox sat back and took a swig of his drink. “Trusting people is hard right now. No one really knows who is working for the PLA. Steps have to be taken to ensure that militia stay alive.”

  “If trust is low, then why did you ask us for help?”

  “We didn’t. Arlo did, and from what I’ve heard about your antics up in Camdenton, you clearly aren’t working for the PLA or maybe you are. In which case this might backfire on all of us.”

  Miles snorted and looked at Scarlett. She was seated, arms crossed, and listening. Probably just biting at the bit to chime in and offer her two cents. He had to wonder what she thought of this. She still had been very tight-lipped about her time with Demar and August. Although she said that she was against the PLA, the fact was she had been working with them just like Demar had.

  “So where do you come into all of this?” Miles asked.

  “Like I said. I’m a friend of Darius. A contact for the south. Someone who had infiltrated the PLA and could be trusted.”

  “Says you,” Snow added. “We don’t know that.”

  He shuffled from one foot to the next, folding his arms and not looking impressed. Miles got a sense that he was new to Arlo’s group and that like him he’d been thrown headfirst into the fire with little to go on.

  “Do you see yourself in cuffs?” Maddox asked. “Rifles pointed at you? No, I fed you, and to the best of my knowledge have been forthright about what I know.”

  Miles lifted a hand, sensing the tension between them. “All right. Let’s
say this is all true. How about you tell us why Jo Greene is here?”

  Maddox turned his glare away from Snow.

  “The first lady and her daughter were speaking at the University of Missouri on the day the West and East Coast were hit. From what we’ve been able to gather they were told to wait until the Secret Service could get them out. Something went wrong. The ride never arrived. No one came. I don’t know, to be honest, what went wrong.” He set his cup down. “You’ll recall how chaotic it was back in those early days.”

  It was a mess, for sure. The news, at least the stations that were still on the air, had streamed back video footage of the bombings and revealed horrifying images of ruined cities.

  “So you’re telling me she’s been here all this time?”

  “I know you want answers but that’s all we’ve got right now. Darius was supposed to take a group into Springfield to get her out but she’d already been moved south to Branson. At some point, the PLA got wind of it and now she and her mother have become a high ticket item, you might say.”

  “For what? What use are they to the PLA? They’ve practically taken the country.”

  “We still have an offshore military. The president is still very much in office. You obviously haven’t heard of the strides we’ve made.” He paused. “Has anyone told you about the Chicago plan?”

  “A little.”

  “Then you would know that’s where they plan to set up their main operation in the Midwest. Well, you can’t exactly have a base there if the USA or its allies try to bomb you. And they will if things go to plan. Believe me, our boys are taking ground. But, if you have…” He paused, giving Miles a chance to fill in the gaps. When he didn’t, he continued. “If you have the first lady and her daughter, you hold the keys to the kingdom. The fact is no one gives two shits about the president, and that includes government. If he’s taken out, the vice president steps into his place, and if he’s taken out, someone else steps in and so on. America wouldn’t negotiate over the president, but he might if they had his wife and daughter. So right now they are high-value assets.”

  “You said had, if they had his wife and daughter. Are you suggesting the PLA doesn’t have them?”

  “I’m not suggesting. I know they don’t. At least until yesterday. Who knows about today. They could have them by now. The last I heard, they are in Branson somewhere, so is Darius. And the last time we heard from him was over five days ago. Since then there has been radio silence.” He took his spork and poked at his food. “Now if my intel is right, the PLA still doesn’t have them nor do they know they are there, and without knowing where they are, I can’t exactly help. That’s why you’re here, all of you.”

  Miles took his seat. “You want us to go in and find him?”

  “Not just him, the first lady and her daughter.”

  “Arlo,” Miles muttered, clenching his jaw. “Did you know about this, Snow?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Miles looked around at the others but they just shrugged. “What makes you think we’ll have any better luck than Darius?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Well, I’m glad you don’t buy into Chinese superstition because I’m not a ghost and I can’t just breeze in there and pluck them out. And here I was thinking that Gunnar was crazy!” he said, rising to his feet again and running a hand around the back of his neck. “How many did Darius go in with?”

  “Ten.”

  “And not one of them has returned?”

  Maddox shook his head.

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Why not?”

  “You work for the PLA.”

  “I’ve infiltrated them. Big difference.”

  “You say to-may-toes, I say to-mah-toes. The point is if they couldn’t get out, then that leaves only one of two things: Either they are dead, which can’t be the case or you would know about it through the collaborator grapevine, or they are hiding. If there were ten of them, I don’t see that happening. Not for five days. Someone would squeal.”

  “Maybe they have,” he responded.

  “Or, they could have walked out.”

  “Nobody walks out.”

  “Of course they do.”

  Maddox looked at Irene and raised an eyebrow.

  “Miles, Branson isn’t like Camdenton or any one of the towns you’ve gone through. It’s not just PLA soldiers you are dealing with here. The guy in charge isn’t your… what do call it… your typical PLA worker? His name is Santiago Cruz, he’s ruthless, a mercenary, one guy you don’t want to fuck with.”

  “Well, they all seem that way until they fall.”

  “No, you don’t understand.”

  “Please. C’mon man. Am I supposed to be afraid?”

  “You should be.”

  Miles snorted, glancing at Scarlett.

  “Darius said he would be back in twenty-four hours with or without the first lady and her daughter. There are some things that aren’t shared with collaborators. It’s very possible he has them. It’s possible they are all dead but until we get confirmation of that we have to try and find them. If they wind up in the hands of the PLA, barring a miracle, this war is over and they’ve won.”

  “Well, Maddox, I have to applaud that eerie little speech, now how about you tell us how we get in?”

  “Well, that’s simple.” He pointed up. “From the sky. Every other way is blocked.”

  Miles threw out a few of the things he’d seen put into place in Camdenton. “C’mon, you’re dealing with checkpoints, a few fences.”

  Maddox laughed. “Fences? Walls you mean.” He got up and with two fingers beckoned him to follow. He took him over to a large table. On it was a map of the area, and beside the map was a video camera. He powered it on and handed it to him. “Santiago saw to it that walls were built to hold people in and prevent others from entering.” He ran his finger over the map and showed him what was in place.

  Miles flipped through.

  “Of course not all of the city is walled off, only areas that don’t have shipping containers or multiple fences with razor wire.” Miles glanced at him and he continued. “Yeah, Branson is like Guantánamo Bay. You aren’t sneaking in, and now I hope you understand why Darius has not snuck out.”

  Miles continued looking at the photos. The town was on another level to Camdenton. “So how did he get in?”

  “How do you think?”

  “Parachute?” Miles said.

  “More like low-altitude base jumping.”

  “So deploying at two thousand feet in the air?”

  Maddox laughed. “Oh, that would be a luxury. No, my friend. You are looking at less than five hundred feet, well, four hundred and eighty-six feet to be exact but now we’re splitting hairs.”

  “Four hundred and eighty-six feet? Are you out of your mind? No one can do that.”

  “Base jumpers do. Hell, Darius has.”

  “Well, that might explain why there’s been radio silence. He’s probably dead. A smear on the streets of Branson. Geez Louise. Where did you find this guy?” he said looking at Snow. He just shrugged.

  “It’s the only way.”

  “The only way? Oh, I’m sure I can come up with some ways that don’t involve us ending up like a bug on a windshield.”

  Maddox looked amused.

  Miles looked at Snow. “You ever jumped out of a helicopter?”

  “A few times. You?”

  “No. Why the hell would I?” He shook his head. “Look, there has to be another way in.”

  “If there was, don’t you think I would have suggested it?” Maddox said. “If you try to fast-rope, the helicopter has to be steady, and that will get all eyes on you from the PLA, Santiago and his crew, and well, if you go with option two and you attempt to parachute from higher than five hundred feet, you will be Swiss cheese before you even hit the ground. Whereas, under five hundred feet you have around 5.6 seconds before the ground if you remain in free-fall. It’s th
e fastest and only way in.”

  “No, you’ve overlooked something,” Miles said, trying to think of anything else.

  “And what would that be?” Maddox said, leaning back.

  “Collaborator uniforms. Get us those and we’ll walk in with you.”

  He slapped Miles on the back. “Yeah, that might have worked in Camdenton when you first got started but they’ve grown wise to that. Santiago changed the rules. My face is seen. All of our faces are seen. There is no longer a way to hide your identity. Sorry, Miles, but it is what it is.”

  “Fuck.” He balled his fists and began to pace. “Have you thought that maybe Darius is biding his time? Or the batteries went out on the radio. Maybe we are being a little hasty here.”

  “Twenty-four hours. It’s more than enough time for someone like him. No. He said if we hadn’t heard from him in seventy-two that we were to contact Arlo and call for backup. That’s all of you.”

  Miles waved his hand around. “And all these people? Are they not capable?”

  “We don’t get multiple shots at this. We were lucky to get Darius and crew in there without causing a disturbance. Now we might be able to pull off doing it again but it has to be with the right crew, someone who is capable because we only have one shot at extracting you. We have to get those helicopters that transported you here over to a rendezvous point and you’ll have seconds to attach to the extraction rope and be hauled out.”

  “Yeah, and where do you intend to do that?”

  “Well, the Titanic of course.”

  “The what?”

  “We’ll be picking you up off the roof of the Titanic. It’s gonna be wild.”

  “The Titanic?”

  He laughed as he walked away. “You never been to Branson?”

  “No.”

  “Oh you’re gonna love this place,” he said. “It’s the PG version of Las Vegas.”

  15

  It was ludicrous. Base jumping from a helicopter was madness in itself but doing so at night without any prior experience skydiving? No, Miles wanted to cancel the whole mission or at least back out. He loved his country, and he understood the importance of Operation Green Bird but this was too risky.