Road Test

by David Wickenhauser

  “That’s it,” he told Buck. “Just the flanker left.”

  Hugh didn’t have to wait long for the flanker to reveal himself. The man, seeing Hugh had exposed himself from his cover below the rim to shoot his compatriots, took a couple of quick shots at him.

  “Damn!” Hugh yelled, quickly ducking back down into the depression. One shot had grazed the flesh of his inner thigh. Hugh padded his bandana over the wound to stop the bleeding, and bound it with his belt.

  Hugh didn’t expect help would be coming. His cell phone registered “No Service,” and the noise of the battle would be muffled by the woods. The sound would be reduced considerably as far away as the ranch because they were on the side of the ridge opposite the homeplace.

  Hugh offered virtually no target to the remaining gunman, so he was in a good position to wait the guy out. All he needed was for the guy to become impatient and to make a move to reveal himself.

  Because of the shooting, the forest had become dead silent, with only a bare whisper of sound from the slight breeze on the leaves of the trees.

  Hugh knew the flanker hadn’t moved from his position, and he was confident he would hear him if he tried to retreat or advance. The flanker had Hugh in the same situation as well. So, for now, it was a stalemate. Hugh knew the first one to make a mistake would be the one to die.

  The minutes dragged on. He was certain the flanker was still there. Hugh patted Buck on the head and neck, reassuring him all would be well. He took a drink from his canteen, and moistened Buck’s muzzle.

  Hugh doubted his opponent had brought water with him in his rush from their camp, and he also knew from experience that combat puts an awful thirst on a guy. All the more to Hugh’s advantage.

  Finally, Hugh’s patience and super-concentrated listening paid off, and he heard the faint sound of the beeps a cell phone makes when someone is punching in numbers to try to dial a call.

  “Big mistake,” Hugh whispered to Buck. “Always deselect cell phone tones while in combat.”

  Hugh peered with his rifle scope just above the rim of the depression, and with the faint beeping sound to guide him, scoped the forest. Peering into thick leaves, when his crosshairs landed on the swarthy skin tone exposed in the triangle between the man’s chin and the top button of his shirt Hugh squeezed off three quick shots.

  Hugh waited several minutes, listening intently for the sound of any further activity beyond his hide. When all was quiet he stood up, then allowed Buck to stand up as well.

  Hugh walked over to the flanker’s position. One shot had caught the man right above the top shirt button, right where the scope’s cross hairs were, and the two succeeding shots had walked up, hitting the man just under his chin and then dead center in his forehead as he fell backward after the first shot.

  Next, Hugh found the two guys who had tried to rush him. Two center-mass shots. Two instantly stopped hearts.

  Then Hugh found the bandana guy. The bandana had taken a direct hit, dead center, punching a fatal hole just above the guy’s sternum. Bandana guy was wearing a camo suit, and Hugh was amazed at the stupidity of wearing a red bandana like a “shoot at me” target.

  “I’m sorry guys. I really am,” Hugh said. “I didn’t want to have to do that. But, you left me no choice.”

  He checked to make sure Buck was OK. Then he put a halter on him, and tied the lead rope to a stout root of the upturned tree. He didn’t want Buck wandering around in case the growers had set more booby traps.

  Carefully, Hugh retraced the steps taken by his attackers hoping to find their camp and the marijuana grow field. He was extra cautious about any further booby traps. Most of the booby traps he had encountered in Iraq were of the urban and roadside IED variety, but he had gotten exposed to the more traditional types during SERE school.

  Just ahead, on the edge of a clearing under a protective canopy of trees, he saw a camp with camouflaged tents, a cooking area and all the accouterments for a semi-permanent stay for hirelings to watch the crop as it grew. An old logging road led away from the camp, obviously the ingress and egress for the workers and supplies and, at the end of the season, for the harvested marijuana crop to be carried away.

  The marijuana grew tall among the trees, encompassing about an acre in the forest.

  He found a first aid kit – these guys think of everything – and dressed his wound with disinfectant and a gauze pad.

  Hugh marked the location on his phone’s GPS app, which he could do without cell phone service. He’d call in the location as soon as he got on the other side of the ridge so DEA could come and eradicate the crop. This was fall season, so the marijuana was at its prime, probably millions and millions worth that would shortly be going up in smoke.

  He went back to Buck, and headed straight for the ranch house. He’d had enough of his quiet, relaxing time in the woods.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  As he approached close to the ranch house that evening Hugh could hear somebody yell out, “Here comes Hugh!”

  Because everybody was assembled for dinner they were all at the house, and they came trooping down the stairs to greet him.

  “You’re back early this time,” Mary said. “Did you miss us too much?”

  When Hugh got closer, Hugh Senior was the first to spot the bloody bullet graze on Buck’s shoulder.

  “Somebody have an accident? What happened?” he asked.

  “Something like that,” Hugh replied, and gingerly stepped down from the saddle.

  That’s when Jenny spotted the slash in Hugh’s pants leg high up on his inner thigh, and the bloody stain on his pants where blood had seeped from underneath his impromptu bandage.

  “Oh, Lord, what happened?” she said, looking like she was going to cry.

  “We had a little disagreement with some cartel guys,” Hugh explained in his usual understated way. “They got some shots off. We got hit. My shots were better.”

  Roly had walked around Buck to examine him closely.

  “Did you know about this, bud?” he asked Hugh. He pointed where a bullet was embedded in a thick part of the saddle’s cantle.

  “For crying out loud. No,” Hugh replied. “I had no idea. That was a close one for Buck.”

  Jenny stared at Hugh’s wound.

  “Hugh, do you realize that a few inches higher up …?”

  Nobody said anything for a moment. And then everybody laughed.

  “Don’t worry, honey. Nothing’s going to stop this wedding. How’s it going, by the way?”

  “Let’s go inside and properly take care of your wound, and we’ll tell you all about it,” Martha said.

  Mary took Buck to the stable to unsaddle, and feed and water him. She also tended to his wound. She had been caring for horses all her life. It was second nature for her, and she knew just what to do.

  Hugh stripped out of his ruined pants – all modesty aside – and his mom cleaned and disinfected the wound.

  “You’ll need stitches,” she said. “It’s not deep, but it’s a long graze and needs to be closed up.”

  “Well, go ahead and do it,” Hugh told her. “Best not wait.”

  While Martha went to get her suturing kit, Jenny told Hugh about the progress in their wedding arrangements.

  “It’s set for a week from today,” Jenny said sweetly. “Mom and I have taken care of everything, including sending out the invitations. You just need to get that leg better, and then show up to stand next to me.”

  It hadn’t escaped Hugh’s notice how easily Jenny took to calling her mother-in-law Mom.

  “Before that, we need to get down to the county recorder’s office to sign the marriage license affidavit.”

  Jenny told him they didn’t need to take a blood test, but they would be asked to read an AIDS information sheet.

  “That’s all,” she said. “Easy to get married in Idaho.”

  As she was talking to Hugh, Jenny was distracted from time to time watching Martha suture Hugh’s wound. Fir
st thing Martha did after carefully washing her hands and putting on surgical gloves was inject a local anesthetic around the area to be sutured. After that, she opened a sterile packet containing a needle and suturing thread.

  Then she expertly ran a number of stitches up the length of the wound, drawing it closed.

  Martha noticed all conversation had stopped and everyone was watching her.

  For Jenny’s benefit, she said, “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to do this – usually for the farm animals. But every person here, even Mary, has had me sew them up at one time or another.”

  When Martha finished, the local anesthesia began wearing off. Hugh’s leg was getting stiff and he was feeling the pain, so he said he’d like to go upstairs to his bedroom and lie down. Martha gave him a strong pain killer, and the two Mann men helped Hugh navigate the stairs.

  Jenny went with them, ushered everybody else out of the room, then got Hugh undressed and helped him into his bed.

  Groggy from the pain medication, Hugh offered no resistance to her administrations, but he was little help either.

  When Jenny bent down to kiss Hugh goodnight, he murmured, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. What did I do to deserve you?”

  “I don’t know where to even begin with that one,” she said. But Hugh was already out. Dead to the world.

  It took a few days for Hugh to get to where he would even try to maneuver the stairs because of the risk of busting out his stitches, so he stayed upstairs, enjoying the attention of the family visits, and having his meals brought to him.

  Jenny kept him up-to-date on their wedding preparations. She would chatter on about food for the guests, seating arrangements, decorations, flowers, table settings. Hugh listened politely, but he really didn’t care. Not that he had a negative attitude about it. He just never placed much importance on the trappings of most ceremonies.

  On the fifth day, after a day of lightly exercising and stretching his damaged leg, Hugh managed to make it down the stairs for breakfast. The wedding was two days away, and he had places to go and things to do.

  Jenny was in the kitchen helping Martha clean up after breakfast. Hugh walked out to the pool deck to use his phone.

  “So everything is ready for tomorrow?” he asked. “I’d like to come and check it out, and make final arrangements. You sure you can deliver the next day on time?”

  Hugh was assured by the answer he was given. “OK. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Next, he texted Roly, who was somewhere around the ranch working. “We still good for tomorrow?” he texted.

  “Still good,” Roly texted back after a short time. “Ten-ish?”

  Hugh texted back a thumbs-up icon.

  Got to love this technology.

  Jenny came out to the pool deck after finishing the breakfast cleanup. “Ready?”

  “Yup. Let’s do it,” he answered.

  They borrowed Roly’s pickup truck and made the trip into Sandpoint to the county recorder’s office. All they needed was their Social Security cards and their driver’s licenses.

  When they walked out, Jenny was grinning widely and clutching their official valid marriage license in her hands.

  “I can’t believe this!” she said, shouting. “We are actually doing this!”

  “I sure as heck hope so, after all this planning,” Hugh said.

  “You know what I mean, silly.”

  On the drive back up north to the ranch, Hugh drove past the secondary road that would have led back to the ranch.

  “Where are we going?” Jenny asked.

  “There’s something I want to show you. You remember back in Phoenix me telling you about the property I own?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I want to take you there now. The day after tomorrow, when you are Mrs. Mann you will own it with me. It’s time you saw it … again.”

  He caught Jenny’s quizzical expression.

  A little way farther on, Hugh took a different secondary road, then a graded county gravel road, then what amounted to a logging road, all the time gaining elevation and going deeper into the forest.

  Eventually, the logging road ended in a turnaround.

  “We’ll have to walk a short distance from here. I haven’t punched through a road to the property yet.”

  “You sure you can handle it with your leg?” Jenny asked.

  “No problem. It’s easy walking, and there is a trail.”

  In less than a quarter mile, they broke out of the forest into a large clearing at the top of the mountain, and before them was an incredible three-hundred-sixty-degree view.

  Hugh led them to a large, flat-topped rock, which they climbed up on.

  “If you look that way,” Hugh said, pointing east, “you can see Montana.” He turned them around facing in the opposite direction. “If you look that way,” Hugh pointed toward the west, “you can see Washington State.” He then pointed them north. “And that is Canada.”

  Jenny had a stunned look on her face, and she said, “Hugh, I know this place. This is where you proposed.”

  “That’s right, sweetie.”

  “You mean, you own this?”

  “Yup. Remember? The first time I brought you here I told you it was my favorite place? That’s why. It’s my place; ours now.”

  “Why didn’t you say so before?” Jenny asked.

  “At the time, I just thought it was more important to know you would marry me more for who I am rather than for what I own,” he said.

  “You know I’m not like that. Right?”

  “I do now, sweetie. What’s important is you like this property. We might be growing old together here some day.”

  “Oh, absolutely. I love it.”

  The next morning, around ten, Hugh left the ranch in his big rig with Roly following in his pickup truck. Hugh had told Jenny he was taking his truck to the Spokane Freightliner dealership for service. It wasn’t completely a lie. The truck would be serviced when he got there.

  But there was definitely more to the story.

  When Hugh pulled into the dealer’s lot and parked, he met Roly as they walked over toward the service department.

  “OK, Roly. What you are about to see is a major big secret.”

  “You’ve definitely got my attention, brother.”

  “Just so you know, not a word to anybody, especially Jenny.”

  “I get it,” Roly said, becoming impatient. “What is it?”

  Hugh led Roly to the first large service bay, and pointed to a semi-truck where workers were finishing up with getting it detailed.

  “That,” Hugh said.

  Hugh watched his little brother’s expression as he took in all of what he was seeing. Surprise. Shock. Amazement. All registered on Roly’s face.

  “Are you saying this is yours?”

  “Yup. I’m trading in my rig, and this is going to be my and Jenny’s home on the road.”

  “Incredible. Can I take a look?”

  “Absolutely. Climb aboard.”

  This was the first time Hugh had seen his new truck “in the flesh.” Before now, he had picked out features online, and had seen progress photos as the custom sleeper company had built the new sleeper onto the stretched-wheelbase Freightliner Cascadia.

  Hugh had opted for the built-in rather than the bolt-on model. The custom sleeper, the whole one hundred twenty inches length of it, was molded as a unit into the Freightliner’s cab.

  This new sleeper was more than twice as long as the bunk-style sleeper in his other truck, and it had many more features than the other one. It had a side entrance, like in a camper recreational vehicle. It had a full-size bed across the back end that revealed a table and booth seats when the bed was swung up against the back wall and latched.

  The kitchen was outfitted with a microwave-convection oven combination, a two-burner, glass-top electric stove, and a sink. On the opposite wall was an apartment-sized upper-lower fridge and freezer.

  To the righ
t of that was a door that opened into a wet bath, which was a conventional RV type toilet with a shower fixture on the wall above it.

  Cabinets lined the upper walls of the whole sleeper on three sides, and cupboards and drawers filled every available space underneath the Corian countertop.

  The sleeper had numerous typical RV features like a rain-sensing ceiling vent fan with remote control, lights everywhere, control panels for the APU, heating and cooling, and switches for various things like turning on the water pump.

  “Do you think Jenny will like this?” Hugh asked.

  “If she’s as speechless about it as I am right now I can guarantee you she’ll love it,” Roly replied. ‘You could definitely live here.”

  Hugh pointed out where the recess in the floor for the side door entrance had a trap door floor that could be lowered over the steps, and where a part of the counter could be lifted up on that end to serve as counter extension. It would serve as a little table for someone to use if the bed was down and occupied.

  Hugh gave the rest of his new truck a good inspection, making sure everything was to his specifications. He had ordered upgraded custom seats with all the bells and whistles. One special feature was a memory function that would adjust the seat according to a pre-set configuration at the push of a button – one setting for Hugh, and one setting for Jenny.

  He settled with the dealer, signed over his truck as a trade-in, and then he and Roly went to his “old” rig to empty it out of all of Hugh’s and Jenny’s personal items as well as everything else Hugh would need to transfer to the new truck.

  Driving back to the ranch, Hugh said, “Well, Roly. This is it. Tomorrow’s the big day.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Yellowstone National Park was beautiful in the late fall. The summer crowds had already left when Hugh and Jenny had arrived there on the first leg of their honeymoon trip. Hugh had proposed they take a couple of weeks off after their wedding to do the tourist thing. Jenny had readily agreed.