"We'll be proud to have you along. I'll put you with my daughter." My look encompassed all of the adult Jones family members. "It's only fair that I tell you this ahead of time. We don't intend for there to be any survivors when we're done. Ridder and his bunch raped and murdered four of our people and three of your family members. They're going to pay with their lives. If any of that bunch escapes, they would more than likely join with another renegade group and commit the same atrocious crimes. We intend to kill them all. Do you have a problem with that?"
We witnessed serious soul searching as the family eyed each other. Willie turned to us. "If we'd had more bodies we would have already done the same thing. We're in."
Mable spoke, "Willie, that's murder and the Bible doesn't condone such behavior."
Willies shot back, "Forget the Bible woman. We gotta do what it takes to stay alive."
I stood. "We're going to fix supper now. You're welcome to eat with us because we brought plenty."
I yelled for Paige and introduced her to Carmen and told them to stay together in the morning. Ira had already given Carmen a radio and introduced her to Marcie. He was glad to have two nurses along on what could be a high-injury, extended firefight.
Ed motioned to the Jones going with us, "I have handguns for each of you and a couple of extra M16s for anyone who wants one."
Richard and Carmen nodded and said thanks.
At five-fifty the following morning, Willie announced we were close to our target. In the dark, we crested a hill as another vehicle coming toward us passed over the next hill. The new vehicle made a fast U-turn, hit the edge of the gravel road, backed up quickly and sped away, throwing loose gravel behind it. By then, all five of our trucks had crossed over the hill and my truck was near the bottom of the valley.
The radio burped to life as Ed said, "Looks like we've been spotted, boys and girls. Our surprise advantage just evaporated. Everyone stop where we are for a minute so we can talk."
Fifteen seconds later, we huddled around the middle truck. Nate asked, "Will we wait for daylight to go in now that they know we're coming?"
Ed said, "Definitely not. We've got to hit them fast and hard. The longer we wait the more time they have to prepare. Tom, Shane, I'll take Richard with me. He was in the Marines and has used diving equipment before. We're going to come in behind them from the lake while you keep them busy from the woods. We'll take the first lane toward the lake past Ridder's place. There's a rubber raft and electric motor in the trailer I'm pulling. We'll put those in the bed of a different truck with the suppressed Heckler and Koch MP5s and you take the truck pulling the equipment trailer. We're leaving now, be careful, but hit them as soon as it's light enough so we have cover when we come in. We need them watching you not the lake."
Ed and Richard scurried off as I spoke. "Okay folks, this is a complete change of plans. When we get there, park the trucks at the road and split into two groups. Eleven will go with me and the rest with Shane. Spread out eight or ten feet apart as we go through the woods. Willie says it's about a quarter mile to the clearing where the resort sits. We'll all pack lots of ammo. Shane and I need several strong people to carry the machine guns, ammo, and rockets for the RPGs. Stay low and look for cover around you because they know we're coming, and they'll definitely shoot at first sight. Watch out for each other, and if someone is hit pass the word to someone with a radio. Ira will send one of the medical staff to help the wounded. Let's go."
We got back in the trucks and drove another three miles before we pulled to the edge of the road and parked. Everyone knew what jobs to do and set about getting their equipment and extra ammo or heavy weapons. We all listened intently but no sounds came from the directions of Ridder's camp. They hadn't been alerted more than fifteen minutes earlier, so they hadn't had much time to prepare an elaborate ambush strategy. I hoped the bulk of their people were hunkered down with guns pointed in our direction and not at the lake.
My group quietly advanced on the right side of the lane to the resort. Shane took the left side. As stealthily as possible on the dry leaves and twigs, we slipped through the mix of pine and almost bare deciduous trees and bushes.
Twenty-seven of us advanced slowly until we could vaguely make out the unnatural silhouettes of the dark main building through the trees. I passed the word for half to take cover; the rest went back for more ammo. We lay prone to the cold ground waiting for dawn, or for Ed and Richard to attack first. From the little I could make out in the nearly dark morning sky, the building layout was close to what Willie remembered. The time was seven-thirty-four when Shane and I spoke on the radios.
Our ammo runners had returned and were in place. We'd staged our forces in a partial semi-circle and had the light and medium machine guns positioned to avoid friendly fire. Several small fortifications were visible under the dim light as dawn approached. The fortifications sat between the edge of the woods and the two story training building. They looked like earthen mounds piled against log barriers for troops to take cover behind. They would be difficult to breach, but there were only four of them and no more than four fighters could hide behind each of them. Four windows on the second floor of the two story building faced us. They were a grave concern. The height gave them a strong advantage, but the medium machine guns could punch through the walls to hit anyone shooting from those vantage points.
Satisfied with our positions and preparations, the war began. Shane launched the first rocket propelled grenade into one of the dirt mounds, and I put a rocket into the right side of the first floor of the main structure. Heavy fire pinned me down, and I assumed from the sudden amount of distant gunfire that Shane had also taken fire. We had definitely grabbed their attention; it was like throwing rocks at a hornet's nest. All around me, I heard our crews returning selective fire as targets were located. Our shots were effective because I often heard screams coming from the enemy camp. However, we weren't without casualties. On my radio earpiece I learned Irene Margherio was dead and James Butler was seriously wounded after taking multiple bullets.
The sound of bullets thudding into the log faded, so I rose and put another RPG into the left side of the large structure. The area of my first strike was consumed by roaring orange flames which helped backlight our targets. Bullets again thumped my log barricade and whizzed over my head like mad yellow jackets. A light machine gun spewed bullets at me as I rolled ten feet down the log to a new position. Carefully, I peeked over the log and saw the intermittent fire came from one of the fortifications fifty yards directly in front of me. It sounded like a 5.56 mm light squad automatic weapon.
Jakes Bales and Barlow crouched near me. I asked each of them to fire on the machine gun position long enough for me to rise above the log with the RPG to take it out. With their covering fire, I aimed and sent the deadly rocket for a perfect hit. Several people and weapons flew from the bunker. Bullets fired toward our position slowed, and it was much safer to return fire.
Light from the rising sun poking over distant trees gradually lit the area enough to see clearly. Shane called on the radio to alert everyone that Ed and Richard had moved in from the lake and hit the enemy from their unprotected backside. I finally spotted Richard moving stealthily from cover to cover. Then my ears picked up the puff-puff-puff sound of the silenced sub-machinegun. As I expected, Richard began taking fire from the people trapped between us. They not only faced deadly fire in front of them but now at their unprotected backside. My crew began shooting at anyone who moved while trying to avoid shots near Richard.
My thoughts left the death scene in front of me when a conversation started over the radio. "You two are my ticket out of here." I didn't recognize the speaker.
A fainter voice, female I thought, said, "You won't get far. My dad will hunt you down wherever you go."
A woman's voice, much clearer said, "Paige, be still and do what they say. I assume you must be Marc Ridder."
I stopped breathing. Ridder had Paige and Carmen. Where the hell
were they? They'd been together working with Doc.
"Yeah, I'm Ridder and you must be one of the Jones bunch. I shoulda killed that black bastard, Willie, and the rest of you a long time ago. Grab each of them and put a gun to their backs while we work our way down to the boat. If either of you yells for help, you'll die instantly. The only way you two live is for the four of us to live."
Carmen and Ridder had broadcast all the info we needed. I found Morgan thirty feet from me and told him he was in charge. I stayed low as I scurried behind our line toward Shane. I told everyone I encountered who had a radio to not use it so we didn't alert Ridder that Carmen had the transmit key down so we could hear everything he said.
Shane had heard the exchange over the radio and expected me. We relayed the word about the radio to everyone else as we raced toward the lake. We were eighty feet from the shoreline when I saw the prize Ridder was headed for. A blue on white cigarette boat, about forty feet long with huge twin outboard engines, sat tied alongside a pier that jutted out at least seventy feet from shore.
Ridder's voice came over the radio, "Move it, Bitch, and don't even think of making a sound."
I nudged Shane and pointed toward movement at the first cabin on our left. The line of cabins sat about thirty feet from the shore and followed the uneven waterline along the lake past the large building that was at the apex of being incinerated. The six people cast long shadows in the orange glow as they emerged from behind the cabin and hustled across a short expanse of open ground toward the second cabin.
Two men and two women herded Paige and Carmen toward the point where the walkway to the pier touched ground. A man I recognized through my rifle scope as Marc Ridder held a pistol to Carmen's head, and a blonde woman held a gun to Paige's head. A man in camo led the procession, and a tall dark haired woman wearing camo brought up the rear. Each carried an assault rifle across their chest, ready to fire. Shane and I whispered then acted as the people emerged from behind the second cabin. The other four were surprised when the lead man's head exploded in a mist of blood and gore. At the sound of Shane's rifle shot, I took out the tailing woman with a shot to her head. They hesitated momentarily before Ridder and the blonde pushed their captives behind a huge concrete fountain ten feet from the water's edge.
Ridder's voice carried through the radio receiver. "How the hell did they know we were down here?" For ten seconds there was silence. "You bitch. You had this damned radio on all the time. I ought to shoot you right now." The sound of a hand smacking flesh blasted across the airwave. "Who's running this operation?"
"Tom, I don't know his last name," Carmen replied with a quivering voice.
In the background I heard Paige, "Stop it, you coward. Don't hit her again." There was another loud smack and then a groan.
"Tom, come in, Tom. This is Marc Ridder. I have two of your women, and I'll kill them if you try to stop me from going out on the pier."
I breathed deeply through the pregnant silence. Now what? If we tried to hit Ridder and the blonde and didn't get clean kills, Paige and Carmen would be condemned to instant death. Even if our shots were perfect, reflex actions of the dying bodies could tighten trigger fingers to kill both hostages.
Trying to sound emotionless, I said, "This is Tom."
Ridder gloated. "We're going to stand and leave now, Tom. We'll dump the women off across the lake unharmed."
Four figures stood. Carmen and Paige faced us. Their two captors rose behind them. The four figures carefully sidestepped over to the walkway leading to the floating pier before gingerly backing toward the end. We were only a hundred yards from them and saw pistols held steady, jammed into the back of the captives’ necks. One shot by Ridder or the blonde would likely sever the spinal cords and kill the women instantly.
We were beaten and knew it. We also knew without a doubt Ridder would murder both hostages as soon as he figured he was far enough off shore to be safe. He had no way of knowing Shane and I were both Delta Force snipers. Long range snipers. While watching the quartet approach the long go-fast boat, I said, "Our only hope is for long distance shots when Ridder thinks he's out of rifle range. I'll take him and you hit the woman. It's only a five-hundred yard shot, but the movement of the boat is the problem."
Shane's voice was rock steady. "We've done harder. You take Ridder, and fire when you're ready. I'll be right behind you; it's our only hope." Shooting behind us had diminished slightly but still raged on.
One outboard engine cranked, started and sputtered as it struggled to come up to speed. The second engine came to life, roared, then settled into a steady hum. I watched Ridder through the scope wanting to pull the trigger. The blonde kept both of my women seated and stood behind them with the pistol still pressed against Paige's neck.
I gasped audibly as a spectral figure flashed upward on the other side of the slim boat! The blonde behind Paige turned her gun toward the shiny apparition. A wet, black clad figure rose above the fiberglass and a gun spat three times. Pellets of shiny water flew through the air then fell downward as the figure reached the peak of its ascent. The blonde pulled the trigger as she fell to the deck dying or dead. By then I knew I'd watched Ed at work. His gun swung to the cockpit and shot multiple times as Ridder heard the commotion and tried to turn with a gun in his hand.
The black clad figure disappeared back below the boat into the water. Ridder sank to his knees but turned his gun toward our women. As I pulled the trigger the second time, I caught movement to the left of my scope and heard more gunshots in the distance.
My scope lowered, and I saw Paige. She'd crouched on both knees with her arms outstretched toward Mark Ridder. With the blonde's pistol in her hands, she continued firing from several yards away until Ridder fell forward onto his face. Ed rose again above the side of the boat, paused to see the tide of battle had changed and disappeared once more.
I yelled, "Take over," to Shane and ran to the pier. Steady gunfire was still rampant behind me as the battle continued.
At the boat I leapt onto the deck and grabbed Paige in a bear hug and squeezed her tightly and held her for several seconds. She held me close and sobbed several times. I focused on Carmen; she looked relieved and smiled.
"Paige," I finally said, "are you okay?"
She looked up at me soberly, "I'm fine, Dad. But I was scared. He was so mad he was crazy. He would have killed both of us."
I let Paige go and escorted them back to near the cabin where they'd been captured. Their weapons still lay on the ground where they'd been cast aside when Ridder's thugs captured them.
Ira answered my call and told Carmen where to meet him. Sadness flowed through the transmission, "James Butler died of his wounds. He was hit too many times in the critical areas of his chest and neck; he lost too much blood and suffered severe shock. Marcie was hit in the left arm below the shoulder, but she's doing well considering I'm not a surgeon."
"Hang in there, Ira," I told him. "Carmen's on her way to assist you."
I left Paige with Martin Radcliff and told her to keep her head down. From twenty feet away I saw her crawl around the huge rock I'd left her behind. She sighted on a target and fired a three shot burst. She was definitely her mother's daughter.
Gunshots diminished to sporadic blasts by the time I crept back to my group of fighters. I approached Morgan Halcom as three people stood up from behind a ruined fortification with their hands above their heads. One of them waved a piece of white cloth tied to the end of a rifle barrel. Morgan and Barlow Jones took aim and dropped all three. We had agreed no quarter would be given. I tried to swallow the big lump lingering in my throat, but it didn't go down. It was hard to overcome old teachings and ethics that once stood for a way of life. But those were remnants of a past life that was destroyed and gone forever. We'd been forced to deal with problems ourselves because no higher authority existed.
Morgan motioned me over. "While you were gone, Tony Osmond was hit in the side. The bullet went through clean above his hip and b
elow his ribs. Doc says he'll be okay." I nodded, glad Tony's injury wasn't more serious.
Slowly, all gunfire dwindled away as the morning sun cast rays on the destruction we had wrought. I led the way on clearing out the remaining enemies. Those found wounded and still alive were given a coup de grâce. No one laughed or joked during the commission of the ruthless acts. Rather, we all accepted the harsh measures as necessary for the future safety of peaceful people.
Several of us spun about as a weak voice called out. "Dad, this is Richard. Tell them not to shoot me. I'm behind a short landscape wall below the building that burned. I'm raising my gun so you can see where I'm at. I'm wounded." Richard still had the wet suit on. He'd been shot in the right thigh. To stanch the flow of blood, he'd cut a piece of shirt off a dead woman to hold against both sides of his leg where a bullet had gone in and out. I called the injury into Ira, and in less than a minute Carmen ran past me to reach her husband. Several of our people went to Richard and helped carry him back to Ira's position.
The fires at the charred remains of the training center had burned down except for small areas that still smoldered and flared from time to time. The smell of cooked meat permeated the air, and several charred bodies littered the blackened debris.
We devised a plan to clear the cabins. We split into groups of five and then headed for the lake. At each cabin, two people stayed behind the cover of the outer log walls. They jammed their rifles through windows and fired into the rooms as the front door was breached, and the cabin was invaded. The fifth person covered the back entrance of those units with a back door. After we'd cleared the twelfth cabin a total of four more enemies had been terminated. The lump in my throat refused to go away. I'm sure many others felt the same way. Vigilantism is a means to an end, but not to be taken lightly.
We scoured the cabins and two sheds behind the training building. To the victors go the spoils personified our attitude as we scrounged for anything of value to us as a group. As far as I knew, no one took personal items like jewelry or keepsakes. We took what could help our group survive in the future. As expected, there as an adequate supply of food stuffs, a large amount of ammunition and some fuel we could use. We'd picked up firearms from our dead enemies and kept the ones we wanted. The others were tossed in the lake to keep other scoundrels from using them.
Outnumbered series Box Set | Vols. 1-6 Page 24