Blood Bought: Book Four in The Locker Nine Series

by Franklin Horton

  The congressman frowned. "That’s a bit contradictory for folks who are going to be out backpacking through the woods, doesn’t it? Isn’t struggle and hardship the basis of the activity?"

  "Maybe,” Asbury said. “But for some folks, hiking the Appalachian Trail is more like one long party that starts in Georgia and ends in Maine. I think the trail culture, from what I've read in the press, has changed over the last ten years or so, mostly due to social media. Hikers are better able to keep tabs on each other and coordinate events."

  Congressman Honaker started to respond to that information but was sidetracked by a thought. He closed his mouth and wandered away from the fire. He paced for a few minutes and turned the situation over in his head. This sounded like a group of people who needed an injection of hope. Any group desperate for hope was more easily exploited or manipulated. You just had to know what they wanted to hear and then feed it back to them with as much sincerity as you could muster.

  Depending on who was in charge of this little camp, perhaps he could move in on them, take it as his own. It wasn't that he had any desire to be in charge of a bunch of dirty, smelly, starving kids, but there were warm bodies–lots of them–and bodies could be tempered into an army.

  It just so happened that he was a man in need of an army. He couldn’t afford to lose any more of the skilled men he’d brought with him. His plan for the skilled men included relying on them for security once they were able to set up their permanent location. With that in mind, he needed bodies he could throw in front of bullets if they encountered armed resistance at Robert Hardwick's home. He needed waves of cannon fodder. He needed some disposable people.

  He decided to wake up Jacobs and Bradshaw to run this idea by them. While the final decision rested with him, it was helpful to bounce ideas off them. They always thought of different angles than he did and that was why they were part of this team.

  Whatever he was going to do, he needed to get on with it. He needed to firm up his plan and launch it. They’d had a few visitors over the last day, people walking up to their encampment in the church parking lot and asking questions. The guards encouraged them to move on but everyone was on edge. They knew they couldn’t stay here without continuing to attract attention. After the violence they’d seen on the road, they lived in fear that the locals might mount an attack on them. After all, they were outsiders. Sometimes that label—outsiders—made it easier for decent folks to stomach the idea of attacking and killing people for their supplies.

  The congressman stirred up his command team, gave them time to grab a cup of coffee, and called a hasty meeting. They held it inside the church, which was unlocked and relatively undamaged. The congressman didn’t want the families to overhear their discussions. If not for its exposed location along the road, the church might've made a decent spot for them to take for protracted shelter. There was no chimney for an alternative heat source but it was possible they could rig something up. They were surrounded by mountains of wood they could cut for warmth.

  "I think I have a plan but I need more intel," the congressman said. "I need to know where this Robert Hardwick lives. I also need some inkling of whether he actually has survival preparations."

  Bradshaw tentatively sipped a bitter cup of scalding Maxwell House. "Getting his address shouldn’t be a major problem as long as the courthouse hasn’t been ransacked. If we can get into the county clerk's office we should have access to a tax map of some sort. That would show us exactly where and how big his property is. If they assign a tax value to each structure on the property, we might also get an idea of what type of buildings he has there. That might be helpful."

  "I hate to do it, but maybe after Muncie and Asbury grab some rest we can send them back out for that. They already have a basic idea of the layout of town and can hit the ground running," the congressman said. “They may already know where the courthouse is.”

  Col. Jacobs was nodding, processing, his mind a thousand miles away. This didn’t escape Congressman Honaker’s notice.

  "What is it, Jacobs?" the congressman asked. “I can see those wheels turning.”

  "Do you mind letting us in on this plan of yours? It better be a good one because Asbury and Muncie made it sound like we’re pretty seriously outnumbered by those damn hippies. That’s the kind of intel that makes me want to steer clear of town so I’m curious if we’re on the same page here.”

  The congressman took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I acknowledge your concern, Jacobs, but this group probably includes all types of people. A lot of them are young people. A lot of their demographic admit to leaning toward socialism and they like the idea of the government taking care of them. They expect it. When their parents send them out into the world, they want the government to step in and provide all the same amenities for the same thing their parents charged them–nothing. I say we go in there like we’re there on a rescue mission. I make up some bullshit speech about how I'm from the government and I'm there to help. We tell them I have the authority to commandeer and seize any local resources that may be of help to us. Maybe I even give them the idea that I can deputize them to assist in the effort or something like that. They’d probably love that kind of authority."

  Bradshaw was nodding, awareness spreading on his face like a blush. "So you turn them into an army that can take Hardwick's place for us?”

  Congressman Honaker smiled broadly. "I get them to help me take it, then I run them off. Maybe I even run them out of town. If I did that, we could take Hardwick's home and the whole damn town for ourselves. It would be our own kingdom."

  Jacobs didn’t appear convinced. “Won’t they assume that if we’re from the government we would be binging relief supplies? Wouldn’t they expect us to show up with Red Cross and FEMA trucks?”

  The congressman considered this. "We tell them we were attacked on the road and most of our supplies were stolen. We were lucky to escape with our lives. We certainly have the bullet-riddled vehicles as evidence that we were shot at."

  "But we tell them we have more supplies on the way," Bradshaw added. "We’re only the advance party and it was the temporary relief supplies that were stolen on the road. In the meantime we have the authority to seize and distribute supplies from people who have been hoarding, which they will all agree is a reprehensible offense. Once Muncie and Asbury verify that this Hardwick guy is a prepper, we spin it that he’s actually a hoarder and we seize his stuff."

  "And we hand it out to the hippies?" Jacobs asked.

  "Absolutely not," the congressman said, his offense genuine. "We thank the hikers for their service and send them home. We do whatever it takes to make them leave. We tell lies, we shoot, we threaten–whatever it takes."

  "I think your plan is solid but I’m not sure how this will sit with our families. They may be too soft-hearted. They don’t understand the bigger picture. It may be best to leave them out of it," Jacobs said.

  "That’s not really an option," the congressman said. "Part of my greeting speech to the hikers is that this is an ‘all hands on deck, roll up your sleeves’ operation. This is Americans helping Americans. I let them know that I'm a sitting U.S. congressman here with my family and my friends trying to help them. Our families are part of the charade, part of the camouflage. Having them around softens the image of armed men showing up. It will make the hikers drop their guard in a way that we couldn’t do without the families.”

  “I think it’s the only play we have left at this point,” Bradshaw said, addressing Jacobs. “Let the congressman do what he does best–motivate, inspire, and manipulate people. Then we take care of business.”

  Congressman Honaker smiled. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

  “We all have our shining moments,” Bradshaw said. “This is yours.”

  The congressman rubbed his hands together and sat forward in his pew. With his plan stamped and approved, he was slipping into the mode where he was all about getting things done and making things happen.
It was his specialty. “On to logistics, how are we set for food and fuel?”

  Jacobs and Bradshaw looked at each other to see who was going to field that question. They both monitored the situation pretty closely. Jacobs nodded at Bradshaw that he could do the honors.

  "We’re in good shape food-wise," Bradshaw said. “Most of the fresh stuff is gone but there still a good bit of frozen foods in the freezers of these RVs. Of course, right now we’re using generators to keep those freezers running. We can’t do that forever. Some of the rigs have solar capability but not all of them. Supplies of canned and freeze dried stuff are good. I think we had about a year’s worth of food when we set out but that may have changed a little.”

  “Why?” the congressman asked, alarmed. “Have we lost some of the food?”

  Bradshaw shook his head. “No, but we’ve lost a few men. We’ll actually get more time out of the food than we initially planned.”

  The congressman shrugged, assessing the equanimity of that trade. If he had a choice, he'd rather have those skilled men back. The food they ate was a small price to pay for what they brought to the party, both in terms of their skills with weapons and their willingness to use them.

  “What about fuel?”

  “Most of our cans are empty,” Jacobs said. “We’ve looked for fuel on the road but most of the cars we’ve passed have already been tapped and the fuel stations are dry. Everyone’s tanks are above half because I just checked last night but that’s it. What we have is all we have unless we find a supply somewhere.”

  “Not likely,” the congressman muttered.

  “Agreed,” Bradshaw said. “Which is why this plan has to work. We have one shot. We don’t have enough fuel to leave.”

  Congressman Honaker ran a hand through his hair. The strong coffee and the rising heat of the day were raising a sweat. There was also no air movement in the musty church. He was ready to get out of there. “Any other concerns?”

  "I think we need to take a good look at each rig and assess it from an outsider’s view,” Bradshaw said. “We’ve got supplies strapped on top of RVs that we may not want strangers taking too close a look at it. We need to get things under a tarp or stored inside. We don’t want it to look like we have supplies we’re not sharing.”

  "We’ve had to readjust loads to accommodate vehicles we’ve lost along the way,” Jacobs said. “Some items are not stored optimally.”

  The congressman frowned. "Before we go into town let’s find a way to secure everything. The last thing we need is some nosy kid looking under that tarp and finding out that we have food we’re not sharing.”

  Jacobs pointed to a small camper hitched to a pickup truck. "Muncie and Asbury need a little sleep. We need them to be functional. That okay?"

  "I’m fine with that,” Congressman Honaker said. “Then I want them on the trail and straight back with any info they can get on Robert Hardwick.”

  "We just sit tight until they come back?" Bradshaw asked.

  The congressman nodded. “I don’t see another option. There’s not enough fuel to be wasting it. Let’s beef up security around this place and sit tight. Even though I hate the idea, we may be here a few days before we get any intel. Once we have it, we’ll march into town like the U.S. Army there to save the day. Then I’ll try to organize my little hippies to go after Hardwick."

  8

  Congressman Honaker allowed Muncie and Asbury to sleep until noon, then decided they’d wasted enough time. He banged on the door until a groggy Muncie cracked it open, a Sig dangling from his hand.

  “You two get dressed. Bradshaw, Jacobs, and I need to speak to you.”

  Muncie nodded, still too thick-headed with sleep to ask why he was being dragged from bed. He was alert enough to understand that the men waiting on them did not enjoy being kept waiting. He shook Asbury awake and tugged back on the same smelly clothes he’d just slid out of mere hours ago.

  The command team had coffee waiting when the two exhausted men slogged over. That should have been Muncie’s first clue they were about to get bad news. The congressman was not exactly hospitable.

  Bradshaw broke the ice. “We need to send you back into town.”

  Asbury groaned, unable to hide his frustration. Neither man was happy to learn that they were to be dispatched back to the town. As Capitol Police they were used to walking a lot but not extended hikes. Their clothes weren’t comfortable and their shoes weren’t broken in. Beyond that, they were creatures of the city. These men felt the wooded environment around them was alien and somewhat disturbing. They didn’t trust it, and trusted neither the people nor the creatures who lived there. To say they were out of their comfort zone was an understatement.

  Muncie swallowed. “May I ask why?”

  “We need information from the courthouse,” the congressman said. “You think you can find it?”

  “I’m not sure but I think we passed something that looked like a courthouse,” Muncie said, looking to Asbury for confirmation.

  The other man returned a weary shrug. “Maybe.”

  “What are we looking for?” Muncie asked.

  “This is part one of a two-part assignment,” the congressman said. “I need you to find the office where the tax maps are stored. It could be in the clerk’s office or the Commissioner of Revenue’s office. We’re looking for Robert Hardwick’s property. Without computers, you’ll have to do it the old fashioned way. Deed books, property records, and tax maps. I need anything you can find with the physical address of his property.”

  Asbury groaned again. "Can we at least take a truck?"

  "No," Bradshaw said. "A moving vehicle draws unwanted attention. I need you guys under the radar, in stealth mode. You don’t need to attract any attention. We sure as hell don’t want you leading people back to us."

  "We could leave it on the outskirts of town. Park outside of town and walk from there," Asbury argued.

  “No,” Jacobs said with a finality that made it clear this was the end of that particular line of inquiry. “Not happening.”

  Asbury mumbled his dissatisfaction under his breath. Muncie may not have been happy but he remained stoic, not giving away what was going on inside his head.

  "You knew the score when you signed on with us," Jacobs said. "You knew you were here for muscle and grunt work. I don't have any sympathy for you. This would fall squarely within your job description, if you had one."

  “We’re exhausted, man,” Asbury grumbled. “We’re sore and even our blisters have blisters. Can’t you send someone else? There are other men who could do this. It’s just a milk run.”

  "You girls need to pull up your panties and quit whining," the congressman said, exploding to his feet. "You're being sent because you're familiar with the terrain. You’ve already been to town. As I see it, you have two choices right now. You can hike to town and do what you’re told or you can hike the hell out of here and we’ll be done with you. I don't care which one it is but I'm tired of listening to this so I need an answer now. Which is it gonna be?"

  Muncie gave Asbury a hard look, a warning that he needed to shut his mouth. "We'll go, sir. We’ve got this. You did mention that it was stage one of a two-stage mission. May I ask what the second stage is?”

  When Bradshaw started to respond the congressman cut him off. "Once you get back with that information, we’ll want a couple of hours to analyze it and develop a plan. Then you guys will be hitting the road again to locate Hardwick's place. We’ll let you take a vehicle on that mission. Not because we care about your boo-boos but because we don't wait a week for you to limp back here with the intel.”

  “What intel are we after?” Muncie asked.

  “We’re nearly out of fuel and options,” the congressman said, lowering his voice. “We banked on Hardwick having some kind of survivalist compound of his own. Nothing like Bridges’ place, but something on a smaller scale, though it’s all speculation. We need facts before we go charging up there. I need an idea how many
men–how many guns–this will take.”

  “So we perform a security assessment and try to get a head count?” Muncie asked.

  “Basically, but I’m interested in more than that,” the congressman replied. “I want to know about any resources you spot. Do they have fuel? Is there water? Are there buildings people could live in? Is there solar power? Whatever you see, I want to know about. We’ll also give you a camera and a GPS. You can mark routes and waypoints on the GPS, anything you think might be of use to us when we go to take the property.”

  “So when do we leave?” Asbury asked, finally mustering the courage to speak again.

  “Ten minutes ago,” Bradshaw said, checking his watch.

  Muncie and Asbury rose and stretched the stiffness from their muscles.

  “We’ll grab our gear and be gone,” Muncie said. “We’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  The congressman nodded.

  “Be safe,” Bradshaw said. “Use caution.”

  The two men ambled back to their camper. It wasn’t how they wanted to spend the day but they needed to remember there were worse things they could be doing. They had food, ammunition, and weapons. They had a group. They had operating vehicles, when they were allowed to use them. Best of all, they had a plan.

  9

  Debbie was already awake when the color of the sky began to change above her. She so wanted the night to be over with. As she sensed the arrival of the coming day, so did the songbirds, and their music filled the woods around her. She sat up in her sleeping bag and rubbed her eyes. She had slept, likely out of sheer exhaustion, but did not feel well-rested. Camping was much like waking up stiff in the cab of a pickup truck after a long night. There was nothing fun about it.

  Her mind had worked against her as she tried to fall asleep. Besides the evil she imagined lurking in the night, she also realized there was nothing to stop spiders and snakes from edging toward her in the darkness and climbing into her sleeping bag with her. With that unpleasant recollection she unzipped the bag and threw it open to check for intruders. Thankfully there were none.