The Shadow Patriots Box Set 1

by Warren Ray

  “How long ago? Who reported it?”

  “Ten minutes ago. Wakefield called it in.”

  “Wakefield? I thought he got killed.”

  “Apparently not, sir. He’s pretty sure these are the guys we’re looking for. He said he’d follow them and call us back.”

  “Sergeant, find Lieutenant Crick and tell him we need to be combat ready.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  While Green hurried to his quarters to grab his gear, he thought about the men he’d lost yesterday. This time, he’d take no chances when confronting the bastards.

  After gathering his gear, he headed to the office. He made the first step of the stairs when the door opened up. A short rotund man dressed in a suit and tie walked out and passed by without acknowledging him. Must be from the National Police, Green thought as he entered through the glass doorway, he took a right and headed for Colonel Nunn’s office. Nunn stood at the entrance to his office staring out through the hallway window.

  “Colonel Nunn.”

  “Major?”

  “Wakefield just called, said he spotted some pickup trucks in Wisconsin. He thinks it’s them. I’m headed up there now,” said Green.

  “You better hurry, because as of today we’re going to be answering to the National Police.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The little weasel who just left my office is none other than Commandant Boxer and he informed me, he’s been appointed to take over this operation.”

  “They can’t do that, can they?”

  “They can, and they have. Get these rebels rounded up today, Major, and we might get him off our backs,” said Nunn sitting down in his chair.

  “I will, sir.”

  “Oh, and I’m leaving for Washington for some meetings, so I’ll be gone for a few days.”

  “Yes sir,” responded Green as he turned around and left Nunn at his desk.

  Major Green walked up the hall and stepped outside where Lieutenant Crick and the rest of his men waited. Clouds had moved in mid-morning and changed a promising beautiful day into a cloudy overcast one.

  Green walked to Crick. “How’s the arm?”

  “Burns a little is all.”

  “We good to go?”

  “All set, Major. This is going to be a hell of a day for us, sir.”

  “Let’s hope so, Lieutenant.”

  Green slid into the Hummer.

  During the two-hour ride, Green thought about the situation. He reached into his jacket and took out the picture of the message he'd found written on the wall of the Wisconsin Patriot Center.

  TO THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR TAKING PART IN THE MURDER OF INNOCENT AMERICANS…

  Green studied the picture. He wondered, who was being killed and who were the killers? Did it refer to Americans in the war out West? Or that the government shouldn’t be fighting the war? Who were these people? Were they really volunteers or anarchists? Did something happen that he wasn't aware of?

  The way Nunn had kept him out of the loop, he wouldn’t be surprised if there was a lot he wasn't aware of. Nunn never gave a reason for anything; like, why burn down a bunch of houses. It was the strangest order he’d ever been told to carry out. Nunn definitely hadn’t filled him in on everything.

  Green held the note up again and reread it: FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE FORCED TO PARTICIPATE…

  He thought about this a few times. Who would be forced? Not the Center’s paid workers. Of course, it couldn’t be the volunteers because they had come to volunteer. The only thing he could come up with was the military, but surely, he would know about it. Regardless of the reasons, these Shadow Patriots killed two of his soldiers.

  “Up ahead, Major,” said his driver.

  They pulled into the abandoned gas station, which sat just off the interstate. The place looked like it had been closed for a while. Trash was everywhere and grass grew out of the cracks in the concrete. Faded plywood covered the windows and the nozzles were missing from the pumps. As they pulled in, Wakefield got out of his car. He waved at Major Green and walked to the parked Humvees.

  “Major Green,” said Wakefield putting his hand out.

  “Wakefield, could have sworn you’d gotten yourself killed yesterday,” said Green, not returning the man’s handshake offer.

  “Yeah, that was a bad deal. After Colonel Nunn called, I didn’t want to stick around. Wasn’t sure when you’d get back. Real sorry to hear about your men getting blown up.”

  “Now, what can you tell me about these men you saw?”

  “I was up there on the interstate,” he said pointing across the field. “When I saw these three trucks parked over there, I thought it a little suspicious, so I slowed down to take a gander.”

  “What were they doing?”

  “Wasn’t sure at first, so I pulled over to the other side and snuck back across the road. They parked right over there, where they put the fuel in the tanks. They were siphoning gas into cans.”

  “Did you recognize any of these men?”

  “No, and that’s when I realized, maybe these were the guys you’re looking for.”

  “Which way did they go?”

  Wakefield pointed. “Over in that direction, they’re only about fifteen minutes from here.”

  “You know where they’re located?” asked Green.

  “From way up there,” he said pointing up to the overpass. “When they left, I was able to watch them for a couple of minutes, so I took off after them. They turned off into a field, don’t know how far back they went but I figure until they couldn't be seen from the road and then they set up a camp.”

  “How can we find where that is?”

  “In about five miles, just look for tire tracks to your right, heading into the field.”

  “Wakefield, you’ve been most helpful, I’ll be sure to tell the Colonel what you’ve done here.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No, we can handle it from here. Good day.”

  Major Green got into the vehicle and they took off in the direction Wakefield had pointed.

  He radioed Crick who was bringing up the rear of their convoy.

  “You got your maps of the area, Lieutenant?”

  “I’m looking at them now. It’s all open fields out here but in about five clicks, there’s a wooded area on the east side. It would be a perfect hiding spot.”

  Chapter 36

  Marquette County Wisconsin

  Green spotted the tire tracks in the dirt. They indicated someone had been moving in and out of here recently. The field, like most others in the Midwest, was overgrown with weeds due to the lack of cultivating.

  Green split his convoy of six Humvees into three groups of two. He would drive straight at them while the other two would come at them from the north and south, cutting off any possibility of escape. After giving the flanking groups a five-minute head start, he moved into the field at a fast pace.

  Josh Bassett was Green’s young corporal and he was up in the turret manning the M2.

  “See anything, Corporal?” asked Green.

  Basset focused his binoculars. “We got that tree line about a half mile up ahead.”

  “If they’re still there, that’s where they’ll be,” said Green who then got on the radio and ordered the other two groups to head to the tree line.

  “Major, I see some vehicles up ahead, and our two transports.”

  “Are they moving?”

  “Not yet.”

  As Green moved toward them, the rebels finally recognized them for who they were and scrambled to their vehicles.

  Green yelled out. “Light them up, Corporal.”

  Bassett aimed at a vehicle backing up and sent off a burst of lethal projectiles into the front of the truck. The bullets rattled through the cab, killing both men inside. The dead driver collapsed with his foot on the gas pedal. The truck slammed into one of the transports, catching both vehicles on fire.

  Bassett sprayed another
volley into a fleeing pickup. The men in the back screamed as bullets ripped through them. The truck continued to race forward. So, Bassett targeted the wheels with another barrage shredding both tires. The driver, his shirt soaked with blood, fell out of the cab to the ground.

  Green and his companion Humvee came to a stop too far away for the camp’s small arms to adequately respond. He had his soldiers continue to shoot at the fleeing men.

  The two flanking groups executed the classic Hammer & Anvil attack firing as they approached. They had their enemy pinned down. Some of the pickups and the transports caught on fire as tracer bullets tore through the gas tanks. The spreading smoke gagged the men who tried in vain to put up a fight. Within a few minutes, one of the volunteers waved a white flag.

  Green hopped out of his truck and glanced up at Bassett, not bothering to contain his pleasure.

  “These old men aren’t so tough now, are they?”

  Bassett studied the men for a moment. “No sir, they’re not, I’d say they’re rather pitiful.”

  “Yes, they are,” said Green.

  Green watched from the side of his vehicle as his men moved in and took control of the situation. He had hoped for a bit more resistance so he could extract more vengeance, for killing his two soldiers, but they had given up, so he’d have to take them prisoner and transport them back to base. He immediately recognized this was going to be a problem because there were a lot more men than he had anticipated.

  Bassett still stood in the turret. “Hell Major, look at them all.”

  “Didn’t figure they’d be so many of them,” replied Green.

  He directed his men to give medical attention to the wounded, then walked over to his prisoners sitting on the ground. Green noticed that despite the loss of their friends, these prisoners didn’t seem dejected. Perhaps it was an age thing, probably glad to be still alive after being shot at.

  Green spoke up. “Who’s in charge here?”

  No one responded.

  Green showed little patience and reached for his sidearm. Pulling the Beretta M9 out, he walked up to one of the men and knelt to his level. Resting the gun on his right knee, he repeated the question. “Who’s in charge?”

  “No one’s in charge,” the man answered defiantly. “We’re all free men, we come and go as we please.”

  “What’s your name, old man?”

  The man raised an eyebrow. “Old man?”

  Green leaned closer. “Well, you’re older than me, so yes, it’s old man till I get a name.”

  “It’s Bill Taylor.”

  “Mr. Taylor, my name is Major Green, and you guys killed two of my soldiers yesterday.”

  Taylor gave him a dismissive look. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Major.”

  Green snapped. “You don’t? You didn’t have anything to do with the attack on the Wisconsin Patriot Center yesterday?”

  “My friends and I are just out here camping trying to have a good time. That is till you came in shooting up the place.”

  “Camping huh? Why did some of your friends try to leave when we came?” demanded Green.

  “Wouldn’t you, if you had the damn Army shooting at ya?”

  His fellow prisoners chuckled.

  “You have two of my transports here.”

  “We found ‘em here. You should be more careful where you leave ‘em.”

  More chuckles.

  Green stood up. “Mr. Taylor, I do believe you’re trying to put one over on me. Tell me, why are you armed? You’re not supposed to have any firearms.”

  “Can’t be too careful these days, I heard there’s a gang of killers on the loose.”

  The men continued to snicker.

  “And it’s our second amendment right to bear arms.”

  “It was your second amendment right, Mr. Taylor, you and I know full well that’s no longer the case. No one is allowed to have guns.”

  Taylor turned his head. “I didn’t vote for that. Did any of you guys vote for that?”

  No’s, could be heard from the prisoners.

  “It wasn’t up for a vote. All of you are in violation of the Government’s ban on possessing firearms, and from what I can see, you’re the killers we’ve been hunting.”

  Taylor spat on the ground. “So, you gonna execute us now?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You gonna kill us?”

  “Of course not. Why would we do that?”

  Taylor glared at him. “Well, it’s what you do, isn’t it?”

  Green looked perplexed. “We’re going to take you in, and you’ll stand trial for your crimes.”

  “Well, you got yourself a bit of a problem then, cuz you just shot up most of our vehicles, and we ain’t all gonna fit into those Humvees.”

  “We’ll find some transportation.”

  Green walked back to his Humvee and got on the radio. He was unable to report to Colonel Nunn because he had left for the meetings in Washington. So, he ordered some transport trucks to come out and pick up his prisoners.

  Chapter 37

  Davis Junction Illinois

  A gun-wielding man was confronting Scar and Meeks, and their hearts pounded in fear. Scar knew it was going to be up to him to get them out of this precarious predicament. As he studied Red Beard, he thought about his options. They could wait for the right moment, pull their pistols and shoot their way out, or just wait for Winters, who by now, was probably wondering what was taking them so long. He remained calm and decided to try and talk his way out. He was getting ready to speak when the door opened and in walked the two guards from outside. Scar’s heart sank when he realized his task had just gotten twice as difficult.

  These guys reminded Scar of Decker. They were the same type of low life losers who thought of nothing but themselves. They would do anything for a buck, even if it meant killing people.

  “What’s going on here?” asked Lazy Eye.

  “Well, we’ve got ourselves a couple of liars,” said Red Beard. “This one is Steven Meeks, he was a star running back for Iowa back in the day, but he’s calling himself Steven Cuyler, and the other one says his name is Thomas Barnes.”

  “I am Thomas Barnes,” Scar said defensively. “Meeks changed his name because of his notoriety, he didn’t want any special treatment. Hell, you even recognized his face, most people only remember him by his unusual name before they start treating him differently. I understand why you guys are jumpy. We heard what happened in Iowa, heard the news on the radio, that’s why we didn’t ask. Plus, I’m kind of intimidated by a guy holding a gun on me, so would you mind pointing that thing somewhere else?”

  Scar hoped that by doubling down with a demand, he could confuse these guys, who seemed dimwitted.

  “Yeah, put it down man,” said the tattooed man behind the desk. “This is going to get handled anyway.”

  Scar and Meeks both knew what the comment meant.

  “Don’t worry yourself about these two guys,” said Lazy Eye.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” said Red Beard with a sneer.

  “Sorry about the confusion guys,” said Meeks reaching forward to the man and shaking his hand. “Had I known this would have caused so much trouble, I wouldn’t have bothered. You cool?”

  “Yeah, it’s all good.”

  Scar wanted an excuse to get outside to talk to Meeks. “Okay, I need a smoke now,” said Scar. “Anybody have a cigarette?”

  The tattooed man got up from his desk and handed him one. He and Meeks walked out into the chilly air.

  Meeks let out a deep breath. “That damn little leprechaun pointed his AR at my face.”

  “Leprechaun?”

  “Little short red-haired guy, all he needs is a green jumpsuit, he’d be a dead ringer.”

  “Don’t forget the pot of gold.

  Meeks let out a laugh.

  Scar shook his head. “I can’t believe he remembered you.”

  “No kidding, of all the time and places to get recognized
, just as I’m putting down bullshit answers. Friggin amazing.”

  Scar put the cigarette in his mouth, took out his lighter and lit it up. He inhaled the smoke, sucking it deep into his lungs.

  “I’m thinking there’s five of these guys here,” said Scar.

  “You’d think they’d have extra guys on guard duty or something.”

  “Right, especially with the way we’ve been hitting these places up.”

  “Unless there’s more people in the back. Although, I’d think with all the yelling, they would have come to see what’s going on.”

  “Kind of what I was thinking.”

  “Well, what do you want to do?”

  “We can’t leave now,” Scar responded as he took another pull off the cigarette. The smoke raced into his lungs as smooth as it did ten years ago, before giving up his lifelong addiction.

  Scar casually turned his body in the direction of Winters and Elliott, trying to locate them. A second later, the door opened and out walked one of the guards.

  Chapter 38

  Winters and Elliott lay on the ground next to an abandoned house. They continued to wait but were beginning to wonder what was taking Scar and Meeks so long. They were relieved their two friends stepped outside but then saw a guard walk out and join them.

  Winters tried to ascertain what was happening by their interaction with the guard. He kept watching as Scar tossed his cigarette butt on the ground and snuff it out with his toes. They must have decided to do something else inside because Scar opened the door and held it for the guard and then Meeks. Scar put his hand on Meeks' shoulder and said something to him as they walked in.

  As soon as the door closed, gunfire erupted.

  Winters and Elliott both jumped up, pulled out their weapons, and ran across the street. As they reached the building, the door flew open. Both men stopped and pointed their pistols.

  Scar timidly peeked around the door.

  “Figured you’d come a running,” said Scar.

  Winters tried to catch his breath. “What happened?”

  “Oh, nothing much, except this one guy, recognized Meeks from his college football days.”