Next World Series | Vol. 6 | Families First [Battle Grounds]

by Ewing, Lance K.

  Mike reasoned with him quietly as Sergio watched his negotiating skills with approval, and Hanson looked on.

  “Who’s in charge right now?” asked Mike, “and who’s second-in-command?”

  “I am…me too,” was the reply, both having recognized Mike from the other day.

  “One from each group, I assume?”

  “That’s right,” said the lead guy Mike didn’t recognize.

  “Okay, I don’t know much about you two, but both your groups are the praying type. I know that,” stated Mike. “Have you been praying lately? I mean, really praying about the battle coming up?”

  Neither man answered, and he continued. “Of course, you both are, and so are your families and friends. Remember the story of the man caught alone in the middle of the ocean who says to God, ‘Please send me a sign that you will save me’? Anyway, remember, He sends a boat, then a helicopter, and something else I can’t remember, and the guy refuses help and ends up drowning. He talks to God after it’s done and says, ‘Why didn’t you send me a sign?’ ‘I did,’ God tells him—‘a boat, a helicopter, and the last thing…’ Remember that story, guys?”

  “Yes,” they both said. “But what’s that got to do with these trucks?” one asked.

  “Everything. These are both the boat and helicopter; actually, the helicopter part is literal, plus some planes. This is the help you have been praying for, and we’re running out of time. All you have to do is open the gate, and you will both be the heroes of your respective communities. What do you say?”

  “Give us a minute,” the lead man said, returning minutes later with an “I’m on your side but still have to get approval.”

  “He’ll want your head for this, the Baker guy, you know,” said Hanson quietly to Sergio.

  “No worries,” replied Sergio. “He already does. This little stunt will just take some of the confidence out of him. It’s not everything they have, but it’s about half of it, I’m sure. He may just save us all the trouble and have a massive coronary right on the spot when he realizes what happened.”

  “I’m going up to talk to Lance,” said Mike, walking back to his group. “It should be no more than 30 minutes. Hold tight, and I’ll get us inside.”

  * * * *

  Mike ran and walked the mile, holding his stomach, only recently resown at The West hospital, recalling his days running from bullies with his brother, Arthur. They both got fast, real fast, but in the end, ten or more guys are bound to catch up sooner or later. Still, he counted the seconds to minutes, announcing “15 minutes, 41 seconds” when entering the Ranch property and waving to the night guard.

  “Everything all right, Mike?” the woman on security asked.

  “Uh, yes, ma’am,” he replied, out of breath and holding his side. “Just out for a run.”

  I heard a knock on my apartment door—not any knock, but a Mike special. I didn’t realize it but had heard it many times on the hood of a car or truck when our caravan got moving after a stop for something or another. I looked through the peephole out of habit and saw him standing alone.

  “Hey, Mike,” I said, opening the door and asking if everything was okay.

  “Sure. Actually, I have some news—good news that can’t wait.”

  We stepped outside to discuss what waited just outside the gates to the Valley.

  “Thanks for coming to me first,” I said. “Let’s get Bill, John, Mac and Cory, for sure, as I’m guessing they are all still up at this hour, and see what the verdict is.”

  Getting the main four took no time at all, and they met at John’s with a few of the Council members wanting to hear the news firsthand. Only Samuel was missing. John and Bill had concerns about taking what didn’t belong to us and thought Samuel would agree. I saw their point but didn’t want an opportunity to level the playing field to go to waste either. Mac and Cory convinced everyone to hold off until morning for a decision, after trying to reach the real Colonel. Mac gave Mike and me a ride back down to the barricade, and he instructed the men to let the trucks inside, at least for tonight.

  “Park them 100 yards up on the right side of the road, single file,” Mike told each driver as they passed. “Leave the keys in the ignition and meet me right back here,” he instructed.

  The trucks, single file, lumbered under the weight and lined up as instructed. The 12 men didn’t ask any questions, and Sergio told them he would meet them back at camp later. Ten walked without looking back, with two staying put.

  “I said you can go back now,” Sergio told them, sounding annoyed.

  “No, we can’t, sir,” said one.

  “And why is that?”

  “Because we know this place. Exactly one-half mile up the road is the Saddle Ranch Farm, where we worked as teenagers for four summers in a row. And one-half mile beyond that sits Saddle Ranch and many people we have come to know over the time spent there.”

  “Both of you?” he asked questioningly.

  “Yes, sir. We’re the Shetland twins—not identical.”

  “I can see that,” he replied, still engaged in the story. “Shetland, like the pony?”

  “Uh…yes, sir. That’s right. And before you ask, we don’t drink either but didn’t want to pass up an opportunity to be on this side of the gate.”

  “Who up there can corroborate your story?” he asked.

  “Well, it’s been a few years but is Bill still one of the higher-ups? He was the one who chose us to come back each year.”

  “Why did you stop after year four?”

  “Girls…girlfriends at home, specifically,” said the taller one. “But we missed it, for sure.”

  “That may be the most honest answer to a question I’ve heard in a long time,” said Sergio, grinning… “Girls,” he repeated… “Why do you think they would want two of Baker’s group to stay now?”

  “Well, we just recently learned they were headed here and looked for a chance to jump ship. We would never fight against Saddle Ranch; you have to understand that.”

  “Oh,” the other twin added, “and we both are certified light aircraft and helicopter mechanics, and I can actually fly everything on these trucks.”

  “Only you, huh?”

  “Yes, sir, but my brother is the better mechanic and can fly a couple of the planes here, I’ll tell you straight out.”

  “Okay, guys. Hold on just a minute.”

  Minutes turned into an hour for Mac to verify Bill knew the pony twins. It would, of course, need a vote for them to stay, but with the expertise and one mechanic down, Mac was pretty sure it was only a formality.

  “You’ll have to wait it out until tomorrow,” Mac told them. “You can head back where you came, or our guys here can pat you down even more thoroughly than when you drove the trucks across, and you can sleep here at the barricade.”

  “That’s fine,” said one, with the other agreeing that they didn’t want to go back.

  * * * *

  “We got everything inside the barricade,” said Mac. “That’s the first hurdle anyway. I just hope we can keep them,” he told us.

  “Nobody steps foot inside or around any of the trucks without my say-so,” Mac told the guards.

  “I’ll be back in the morning,” he added, making a point to take each set of keys out of the vehicles and locking them in his glove box.

  “I want to hear the whole story sometime,” he told Mike and Sergio, while shaking Hanson’s hand and acknowledging it had been a while since they had seen each other.

  “How’s the family?” Mac asked.

  “Oh, you know…good as can be, I guess. I’ve got them packing up and headed for Stove Prairie on horseback tomorrow.”

  “I’m sure we can find someone to give them a ride up there,” said Mac.

  “Oh, that’s not necessary; they know the way, and nobody messes with the dog. Besides, you all have enough going on here, as it is. Just know you can count on me for whatever you need. I’m here till the end, either way,” Hanson rep
lied.

  * * * *

  I stopped by Vlad’s place, with Anna answering the door.

  “Sorry for the late visit. Is Vlad still up?”

  “He’s always up. Doesn’t usually go to bed until after midnight, at the earliest. Come on in.”

  I followed her to the living room to find Vlad reading an old Guns & Ammo magazine by candlelight.

  “I hope everything is okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, it’s fine, but I have a favor to ask.”

  “At an hour like this, it must be important,” he whispered, motioning to a sleeping Javi on the couch across the room. “He won’t sleep alone. He says he has nightmares, poor thing.”

  “He’s already been through more than most fully aged adults,” I said. “And yes, it is important,” I added, sitting down to tell him what I knew so far.

  He got where I was headed before I got there.

  “You want me to call the Colonel before Samuel does, is that right? Because Samuel is a man of peace…and me, I’m not?”

  “Well, you are reading a Guns & Ammo magazine by candlelight,” I said, holding my hand out in an it’s an obvious statement.

  “Okay, point taken,” he said. “I, as much as anyone here, understand firepower, and I want any advantage we can get on those SOBs. They took little Javi here from his family—and many others, I am sure. We already faced them once, and they play as dirty as it gets. If you get Steve and Jim, I’ll try him right now.”

  “Really?” I asked, acting less excited than I actually was. Truth be told, I was told that Hanson could fly a helicopter if he wanted to, and who knows if there were any other people here who could fly one or a plane. I didn’t know of any, but to be fair, I hadn’t asked. Either way, I thought, it’s half of their inventory that will be grounded at least, and I was thankful for that.

  We stayed up for another 90 minutes, putting my watch at 12:36 a.m. when Vlad got hold of the Colonel. The word got out, and I was there along with Mike, Lonnie, Jake, Mac, Cory and Sergio. I hung back, letting Vlad, and occasionally Mike and Sergio, speak to him.

  The Colonel was quiet at first, almost reserved, if that was possible, listening intently before responding, as I had never heard him.

  Cursing and accusations followed—not towards Baker or any of his group but a group he called the Disrupters.

  “They will go to any length to squash American values. This is not about Baker or any of you,” he said, clearly agitated. “It’s a direct attack on our country and the freedom we all take for granted. This battle, or whatever you all call it, will set us all on a trajectory in one direction or another as a country, and good or evil will prevail. Keep the trophies of battle and use them if you can. I will have your back. But understand, they will have Baker’s as well. There will be casualties on both sides, possibly catastrophic in numbers, but it’s your only chance to save the Valley, and it’s just the beginning for me, either way. We are tracking them, and based on their path and rate of travel today, you can expect them tomorrow, late afternoon. Good job on the river damming; it poses a problem for them on day one but gives you less time to prepare. And Sergio, I heard you successfully infiltrated Baker’s camp and have a brand to show for it. I’ll have more work for you soon. Until then, Ronna is still your contact.”

  Sergio grinned, without a response, like a kid first picked in a scrimmage football game.

  “Back to the water situation—they will need your lake now, and he is soon to know it,” the Colonel said. “Unless something changes, I would expect a full-on attack in two to four days. Be prepared, get your people who are not on the front line squared away, and fight like hell. Vlad, you have the paint we dropped, right? and we have a vodka on the other side of this. Bring Mike, Sergio and Lance, if you like, and we will look at the next phase of the campaign.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Vlad, “on both accounts...”

  “He’s off,” said Steve, doing a hand-across-the-throat motion that most would deem universal for “it’s over” or “done.”

  “What’s the next phase of the campaign?” asked Jake.

  “It’s complicated and not at all set in stone,” said Sergio, as the most obvious one to field the question. “I only know a part of it, but I can tell you it has everything to do with what this country looks like in ten years, and all who call it home. The bottom line is we must prevail, no matter the cost.”

  All headed off to bed for another restless night’s sleep. I told Joy it felt like the night before going in for major dental work, but times 100. Now it was every night, with the anticipation of war that was not just a possibility, or even probability, but an absolute certainty and in only a few days.

  * * * *

  At breakfast, a few of us guessed about Samuel’s conversation with the Colonel, as it would likely happen as soon as he found out what happened last night. By lunchtime, we heard nothing had changed, and Mac had the trucks all pulled up behind the Pavilion. The Shetland twins were made official and first tasked with replacing the wires Sergio, Mike and Hanson had pulled off all the machines last night. A lunchtime inquiry found four amongst the large group, in addition to Hanson, who had some flying ability with helicopters or small aircraft, with three volunteers among them.

  Saddle Ranch had an old runway from way back in the 1940s running straight through two wheat fields, still relatively intact, and repaired periodically over the years, although it hadn’t been used in nearly 70. It would be checked closely this afternoon, as all machines on the trailers were fully fueled and the critical parts reassembled.

  All in the Valley were anxious, with a few breaking down from the stress of it all. The young children, while sensing something was off, continued to play the day away but in a much more confined space over the past few days. Most of the teenagers knew the score and were encouraged to help out behind the front lines when it came time.

  * * * * * * *

  Chapter Eighteen

  Baker’s Valley ~ Colorado

  Baker got his first glimpse of the valley from the hill above, looking at the width and depth so closely he missed the obvious.

  It was only seconds later when he called out to his men, “Where are my aircraft? Are we in the right valley?”

  “Yes, sir, Colonel,” his number two guy called back. “This is indeed the right valley, but I’m not sure why your trucks haven’t made it here yet.”

  “Give me a radio!” he spat. “Get them on the radio now!” he screamed.

  His men scrambled to get the mechanics on the line but couldn’t reach anyone.

  The men in the farmhouse, having slept off the hangovers and disposed of the evidence in the basement, had spent the morning deciding if they had done something good or bad last night. Adding they all couldn’t find their radios, the concern mounted. With two men missing and the four deceased found just this morning lying in the field, they started to look at both sides of the coin. All agreed they expected Sergio back as well. They did the best they could when their boss demanded an account of his inventory.

  “Colonel,” one man spoke for the rest. “We followed the orders of one of the Inner Circle you sent to check on us. The Sergio fellow had us move all of the trucks late last night for safety reasons.”

  Baker seethed internally and realized this was a defining moment in his leadership. Although he hadn’t led a group this size ever before, he remembered reading once that dissent of someone in a leadership role, no matter the rank, could be seen as weakness and something another may get away with as well. In the book, they went on to unravel, thread by thread, the leader’s authority, until one day he found himself on the outside, as the hunter became the hunted. He vowed silently to not lose control of the situation and the confidence of his men.

  “Yes, of course,” he said. “Where was the final destination exactly?” he asked casually, as he could see the men before him relaxing just a bit.

  “Just a couple of miles up the road,” said one—“right inside the
roadblock.”

  “Point,” he commanded, already knowing the likely direction and vowing to put Sergio’s head on the end of a pole to be raised over the camp at total victory.

  “We also have four dead, but we’re not sure how,” added another.

  “Of course, you do,” replied Baker, ordering everyone out of his new house. “At least we have a river nearby,” he said out loud, getting a sheepish look from the men that knew.

  “It’s not running, sir. I mean, Colonel, sir,” said one, sputtering.

  Baker motioned for a man to head down and check it out. He ran, coming back moments later, out of breath and announcing, “There are small pools of stagnant water but nothing flowing.”