Feral Nation Series (Book 7): Feral Nation [Sabotage]

by Williams, Scott B.

  Luke’s razor-sharp blade was shaking in his hand as he responded. “Yeah, it’s personal, all right, because you took the shots! Nantan and Red were like brothers to me, and like a coward, you shot them both in the back when they thought you were looking out for them! For that, you are going to suffer a death that will make you regret you were ever born! Tell me, McCullin, have you ever read the stories of my people from back in the day? Have you seen any of those old movies about the Apache wars and what happens to the white eyes when they lie and break their promises?”

  McCullin looked away from him and back at Eric. “I told you what I know. You said you’d make it quick if killing me is what you think you have to do. But you don’t have to do it at all. You’ve been in this line of work for years, Branson. You told us all about it. You know this is pure business and nothing more. I understand the anger, I really do, but you’ve already killed everyone else on the team. Leaving me here to try and survive with a destroyed knee isn’t going to change a thing for you. I know your real goal is to get back to your family. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste any more time here in the middle of nowhere.”

  “You’re right,” Eric said. “I do need to get back to my family and I don’t have time to waste here. But because of what you did, I will be here at least another day, because now I’ll be helping Luke bury three good men who shouldn’t have died here. What’s done is done, and your living or dying doesn’t affect me, but Luke probably sees it differently, so I’m leaving that up to him.”

  “You’re damned right I see it differently!” Luke said. “I’ll handle this, and it won’t take long!”

  Eric nodded and walked away. He had a lot to think about now after all that McCullin had revealed. Now that he knew that Major Langley was involved with Burkett in an alliance with the cartel that was behind so much of the violence in this part of the Southwest, Eric knew it was pointless to go to him. Langley himself had likely signed off on Burkett’s plan to have Eric and his Jicarilla friends silenced, so the promises he’d made to Eric to help him get back to Louisiana after the mission was over were nothing but lies. As much as he would have liked to go back there and make both Burkett and Langley answer for what they’d done, Eric simply didn’t have the time. Both men would be hard to get to even if he did, and at this point, it wasn’t worth the effort, despite the satisfaction it would bring. For Luke, Eric knew it was different. This whole affair hit much closer to home for him, losing three of his best friends that way and now knowing these men were operating freely in New Mexico and the surrounding region, directly affecting his people. Luke would want to do something about it, and Eric couldn’t blame him.

  While Eric had stepped away, preoccupied with those thoughts, Luke had been busy. When Eric returned, he saw that he had indeed staked McCullin to the desert floor just like those Old West Apaches did in the movies. Luke had removed his shirt and boots, but had left him with his pants on, because of the tourniquet. He’d replaced that with a piece of rope, no doubt to keep McCullin from going too quickly, and he handed Eric’s belt back to him as soon as he walked over. Luke hadn’t gone as far as cutting off the man’s eyelids, as he’d threatened, but regardless of that, McCullin would surely be in for an agonizing death, exposed to this harsh environment in that way. He was no longer able to curse them or cry out for mercy though, because Luke had forced a thick piece of dead wood between his teeth, lashing it in place behind his head so he couldn’t spit it out even if he could have opened his jaws any wider.

  Eric said nothing about it as he collected the weapons and other gear and loaded it all onto one of the UTVs. But when Luke climbed in, Eric drove only a short distance away before stopping to get out, as if to check the tires or look for something he’d forgotten. Then, without saying a word, he drew his pistol and put a 9-millimeter round through the side of McCullin’s head.

  Four

  “WHAT IN THE HELL did you do that for?” Luke demanded, as he jumped out of his seat and glared at Eric in anger.

  “Because we’re better than that, aren’t we, Luke? You were a Marine, right? Well, so was that man at one time, no matter what he’s done since. Besides, dead is dead, and he told us what we wanted to know, so let’s get out of here! We’ve got important work to do!”

  Eric knew Luke wouldn’t hold a grudge against him for long, but the two of them didn’t speak as he drove down out of the canyon to the gravel road they’d come in on. It was a risk, going back to the compound by way of the road, but Eric had no intention of hiking the long way back just to mitigate that danger. They’d wiped out all of the cartel thugs that had been there during the assault, and now all of the C.R.I. men were accounted for and dead too, so any threat was far less likely. The only business they had there was retrieving the bodies of Nantan, Red and Wolf, and Eric wanted to do it in the most efficient way possible, and that meant driving in there with the Polaris. What they did after they got them was up to Luke, as they were his tribal brothers, as well as his close friends. Eric didn’t see how it was feasible for Luke to take them back to their Jicarilla homeland though, as that was hundreds of miles away along roads that were certainly patrolled by other C.R.I. units. He was relieved to learn Luke didn’t have that in mind when the two of them finally talked again after pulling over to the side of the road about a mile from the compound and climbing a nearby bluff from which they could make certain the site was still clear before driving in.

  “This land too, was Apache territory. All of it. It doesn’t matter whether Jicarilla, Chiricahua or Mescalero. The Apache were at home in this part of the country. Nantan, Red and Wolf would not mind being laid to rest here, but I will take them into the hills nearby, away from the road and the compound, and the stench of dead Mexicans and white men. No offense, Branson.”

  “None taken, Luke, as long as you let me help you. They were good men, and without their help and yours too, there’s no telling what would have become of my ex-wife, or Jonathan and Vicky.”

  “From the way it appeared between you too after we found her, I wouldn’t have thought she was an ex,” Luke said. “Why in the hell did you ever let a woman like that get away from you in the first place?”

  “I get asked that all the time… because I’m a dumbass, I guess! Why else?”

  “Well, regardless of that, it seems to me she wants you back now.”

  “I’m sure it’s a temporary feeling, Luke. She’s probably over it already, especially if she’s back there with her husband, Daniel now, and I hope like hell she is, for Megan’s sake.”

  “Do you believe McCullin was telling the truth?”

  “Whether he was or not, I saw Megan and Shauna leave on that helicopter. I don’t think second-guessing and going back to question Major Langley now is worth the time.”

  “Probably not, because he will answer to me eventually anyway. If I were you, I would go home to my family.”

  “Yeah, I plan to. The question now though, is how I’m going to get there. I suppose I could make my way to one of the real Army bases and try to convince someone there that I am who I say I am, but without an introduction, you know how that’ll probably go.”

  “Not something I would advise, but Louisiana is a long way from here. You need to get started soon, whatever you plan to do.”

  The ‘how’ of getting back to the Atchafalaya River would soon be the dominate question in his mind all right, Eric knew, as they continued into the compound, driving through the north gate where Lee’s body was still sprawled beside the barricade where Eric shot him. Neither of them wanted to spend any more time inside that perimeter than they had too, as they were well aware that more of the Mexicans or their associates could show up at any time, unaware of what had happened there that morning. Eric and Luke decided to collect the bodies of their friends and head back to the north a short distance to a rough side road leading up into the desolate hills. Luke had noticed the road on the way in and suggested they would likely find a spot somewhere up there that would be
to his liking. He’d told Eric he wanted to get this done as soon as possible. Once they found a spot, they could make camp and complete the preparations for a suitable ceremony and be done and gone the following day. Eric wasn’t sure what that ceremony would involve or whether they would actually even dig graves, from the way Luke talked about it, and he didn’t ask, knowing he would find out soon enough.

  They parked the Polaris in the vehicle shed next to Wolf’s body to pick him up first before driving on to the south entrance where Nantan and Red had fallen. But they’d just loaded Wolf into the cargo bed when Luke froze and gave Eric a questioning look.

  “Do you hear what I hear?”

  At first, he didn’t hear a thing, but Luke indicated that the sound was coming from somewhere off to the south, and then Eric heard it too—the distant drone of a prop-driven airplane. It would have been one of those background noises all too easy to ignore in normal times of the recent past, but there were far fewer aircraft in the skies these days; no commercial flights at all and in remote areas like this, little military flight activity either.

  “That sounds like a small single-engine plane, like maybe a private plane,” Eric said, after the two of them listened in silence for a few seconds. “It sounds like it’s coming this way, but not very fast.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” Luke said, “that it might be the size and type of plane that the airstrip out there was built for. Coming from that direction, it seems likely it’s headed directly here, because there’s nothing else for miles around. We’d better find someplace where we can watch it without being seen.”

  Eric figured Luke was right. There was nothing but uninhabited desert to the south, between the compound and the border. If the approaching airplane was indeed coming here from that direction, its flight likely originated in Mexico. And if it did, Eric had no doubt that the pilot intended to land here. But would he make his approach and touch down before he realized that all the men posted here had been wiped out? Would he notice the explosion-damaged buildings and realize something was wrong before he taxied to a stop? Eric didn’t know, but he knew he and Luke had to be ready for whatever might happen.

  Staying under the cover of the shed was actually their best option, and certainly the place to leave the Polaris with Wolf’s body already aboard. But Eric and Luke needed to see the sky too, so they moved into position next to a Chevy Tahoe that was parked near the edge of the overhanging metal roof. From there, they could watch the airstrip if the plane did come down, and they could retreat farther back beneath the roof if the pilot did a fly-by first, which just as Eric suspected, was what he chose to do. The plane was already low, flying at maybe a little over 500 feet when they first spotted it coming in over the ridge from which McCullin had done his shooting. The aircraft was exactly what it sounded like—a single-engine prop-driven plane of the type commonly owned by private individuals or small businesses, and easily capable of landing on an unpaved runway like the one the cartel had hastily constructed here.

  “Looks like a Cessna 182 to me,” Luke said, as it closed in.

  Eric didn’t comment. Most of his aviation experience was with military conveyances like large troop carriers and helicopters, so he didn’t know the specifics of model names and numbers. The two of them watched it approach through the windows of the SUV and then ducked low behind the vehicle as it passed nearly overhead.

  “A fly-by is probably his standard procedure,” Luke said. “It’s not like they have air traffic control or anything. He’s probably checking that the runway’s clear.”

  “You’d think they’d at least touch base by radio too, though.”

  “Maybe, but maybe not. Keeping off the airwaves may be another part of their SOP.”

  Eric and Luke stood again as they watched the plane turn and begin to bank as it climbed a little to clear the hills to the north. “I guess we’ll see what happens now. Will he head back to where he came from, or take another look?”

  They didn’t have to wait long for the answer to that. The pilot made another run over the compound, this time coming in lower, skimming by at 200 feet from west to east and then climbing hard once he went by.

  “He knows something’s wrong down here now,” Luke said. “No way he could miss seeing those bodies scattered out in the open from that height.”

  “Yeah, he knows the place has been hit, but he won’t have a clue by who, with nothing moving in sight and no vehicles or equipment that’s not supposed to be here. I’m guessing he’ll hightail it back to his compadres in old Mexico to tell them the bad news. What do you think he was bringing here? A plane that size can’t carry a lot of cargo.”

  “That depends on what you call a lot, and what the cargo actually is. It was definitely a Cessna 182. The weight capacity is about 1100 pounds, including three crew and passengers.”

  “And you know that how?”

  “Because I’ve got quite a few hours in one. It’s a great little plane.”

  “Really? You never mentioned you were a pilot, Luke. Where did that come from? You were in Marine special operations. What did you fly?”

  “Nothing. But when I got out after my second tour in Afghanistan, a buddy from my unit talked me into working on the family ranch with him in Nebraska. His uncle was a flight instructor, and I had some time on my hands, so I started taking lessons. I actually completed the course and most of my hours but didn’t take the test for a license. I learned how to fly though, and one of the planes they had in the flight school was a Cessna 182 just like that one. Same color scheme and everything. Like I said, it’s a great plane; easy to handle and simple to maintain.”

  Eric didn’t say anything else about it at the moment because he figured it didn’t matter, but it was interesting how he often learned new things about people he worked with, long after he thought he knew most of what there was to know. Luke struck him as a smart guy, and it made sense now that he would be interested in hobbies like flying, and why not? At any rate, Eric expected to hear the sound of the Cessna’s engine fade away in the distance and disappear, so he was a bit surprised when it didn’t.

  “It sounds like he’s coming in again from the south,” Luke said, as they heard, but couldn’t see the plane circling back around behind the ridge.

  “He probably wants to get one more look; maybe see if he can pick out more detail to report back to his bosses.”

  “I’d say more than just another look. He’s coming down for a personal inspection,” Luke said, a couple minutes later when they saw the plane clear the ridge just barely over the tops of the twisted junipers that grew there. “He’s putting her on the ground this time.”

  “Then if we don’t move fast, we’ll either have to stay out of sight or take him out along with any crew he has with him,” Eric said. “If they start poking around here on the ground, it may not be easy to get Nantan and Red out, unless you want to make a run for it right now. Once they’re down, it won’t matter if they see us haul ass out of here on the Polaris. By the time they can take off again, we can disappear into the hills.”

  “We need to make sure they don’t take off again,” Luke said. “That’s priority number one!”

  “Why? I thought our only priority here was getting our guys out so we can take them to a better place to lay them to rest. Who cares what these cartel bastards find out or report back? They aren’t my problem anymore, especially now that we know C.R.I. is completely in bed with whoever their rivals are across the border. Those bastards are the ones that would concern me, if I was concerned at all, but I’m not. And you know why.”

  “I do know why, and that’s why we’re not letting that plane take off if it actually lands and comes to a stop. It’s your ticket home, Eric.”

  “That little Cessna? All the way back to Louisiana? So, what are you thinking, I take the pilot hostage and threaten to cut his throat if he doesn’t fly me there? What if he refuses and I have to kill him?”

  “I never said anything about m
aking that pilot do it. I already told you, I’ve got a lot of hours in a plane just like that one. I may not have my license, but I can fly the damned thing just fine.”

  Eric stared at Luke as he said this, trying to read his face and see what he was really thinking and if he was serious. Such an idea hadn’t even crossed Eric’s mind. Why would Luke offer to do something like that, going so far out of his way and so far from his people on the reservation?

  “Are you serious? What do you think the odds are of flying that far without getting shot down? And does that thing even have that kind of range? And even if we could make it, how would you get back? It’s not like you can stop at airports along the way to refuel.”

  “I am serious! Of course I am, or I wouldn’t have mentioned it. This is too good an opportunity to let it get away. We just need to move in close enough to that runway so that we can make sure they don’t. You never know, they may get spooked and take off again before they even check out the compound. So, let’s go!”

  It was clear that the answers to Eric’s other questions would have to come later. Luke wasn’t wasting any more time talking about it until then. The time to move was now, while the plane was on the ground and still rolling to a stop, and those in its cabin couldn’t see much of anything inside the perimeter. Eric and Luke sprinted for the gate nearest the airstrip and took up prone positions behind the wire fence where they would both have clear shots with their rifles.

  It became obvious that whoever was in the plane intended to thoroughly check out the scene when the engine was shut off and the two front doors opened. Eric and Luke watched as two men got out, both of them armed with AK-47 rifles that they were now checking and inserting magazines into as they paused for a moment beside the aircraft, probably discussing their next move. The men appeared to be Hispanic, like all of the gunmen that had been guarding the compound before the assault. And while one was of course, the pilot, from the way he was dressed in expensive-looking slacks and shoes, Eric had to wonder if the other guy was someone of more importance, maybe someone higher up the ladder in whatever structure by which the cartel was organized. It appeared the purpose of the flight was to bring him here, but it was hard to know for sure, not that it really mattered. The fact that they had landed here made them guilty by association of whatever was going on here, and the fact that they were armed and ready to engage any threat they saw made them dangerous enemies who could be given no quarter.