by Warren Ray
Mordulfah turned toward the front of the house and saw some of the workers staring at him. There had been whispers among the men about how he was weak and not as powerful as they thought he was. He wouldn’t be able to do anything about it because he could only behead so many people before they would desert him. He had already played that card after the battle on Robinson Road. Besides, he had lost close to a hundred men from this recent attack and couldn’t afford to lose anymore.
What he needed were men who were real fighters, not these wannabes that filtered in from around the area. These men had the will to fight but not the skills, and it showed. Over the past week, he had lost over half of them to a smaller force. He hated Cole Winters but had to admire him for how he was able to accomplish so much with just a handful of men.
Mordulfah shook his head thinking about the RPG they had used. He could only guess where the rebels had gotten their hands on such a weapon but figured it had to be the Canadians. They were quite interested in what was going on down here and feared they were aware of his plan to confiscate the upper Midwest. Even though he purchased supplies and received electric power from them, they didn’t want him as a neighbor and would do what they could to prevent such a thing. As soon as he had established control, he would deal with the Canadians and punish them for their insolence.
Mordulfah had seen enough and headed for the kitchen. He turned to his trusted aide, Wali. “I’m going to need to go and see Uncle Faisal.”
Wali raised an eyebrow.
“I know, the price will be high, but we need his forces if we are to have our own country.”
“I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”
“I need you to stay here this time and continue overseeing the repairs. I’ll have Thomas accompany me.”
Wali bowed. “As you wish.”
A flicker of excitement shot through Mordulfah’s veins knowing it would be worthwhile to bargain with his uncle. The man had a soft spot for him because of the unfair way the family had treated him. Mordulfah had many cousins with whom to compete, and his father was the youngest brother. With the help of his Uncle’s connections in the banking world, he had been able to eke out his own large piece of the pie.
He had made millions instead of spending millions like his spoiled cousins. This endeared him to Faisal, but at the same time cast him as an outlier because of his cousins’ petty jealousies. Mordulfah never let it bother him, but continued to go about his business of amassing a fortune and making connections that were now coming in handy. It was how he was able to meet and do business with the multi-billionaire, Gerald Perozzi. Over the last few years, he allowed the old man to take advantage, making him think he wasn’t as sophisticated as his Western counterparts. Doing this, he had successfully manipulated the man to allow him to become part of the cabal dedicated to the takedown of America.
Perozzi mistakenly thought he was going to eliminate him after he succeeded in taking over the upper Midwest. Little did the old man know that there was someone in his inner circle reporting to Mordulfah waiting for orders to kill him. He would also take out that arrogant, fat man, Lawrence Reed. He would personally pull the trigger on him and take pleasure doing it.
Chapter 3
Jackson Michigan
Scar and Amber stood in the parking lot and watched Bassett, Meeks, Burns, and Nordell leave to scout the Jiji’s supply lines. If they were going to get the full outlay of the Jijis supply chain, they would have to cross enemy lines. There were several hundred Jijis up in this area alone, which was a lot of mouths to feed.
Did they have one, or two, routes for the delivers? If two, were they out of Detroit, and where did they separate? The trick was getting the supplies back across the border. This was a daytime operation, which was not the ideal environment when you’re outnumbered. Their preference was to operate using night-vision optics, with which they owned the darkness.
Bassett drove north toward the interstate. Their destination was an abandoned manufacturing plant off Willis Road. He had the multiple buildings heavily guarded; not wanting the Jijis to be able to use the thirty-five acres as a base of operations. In addition to patrolling this area, the security Basset had put in place included blocking off all exits from the interstate. He had tractor-trailers parked in strategic areas as well as keeping rotating guard shifts. There had been random encounters with Jijis looking for more comfortable accommodations in the nearby houses, but for the most part, they stayed on the interstate.
Bassett drove into the plant and saw one of his men climbing a ladder to the roof where they had a guard post.
“You boys up for a bird’s eye view?” asked Bassett.
“Always up for that,” said Meeks getting out of the SUV.
The four climbed the ladder and were greeted by Craig and Rick Robertson who were cousins from Jackson.
“Hey guys,” said Bassett extending his hand.
“What brings you guys here?” asked Craig.
“Wanting to get some info on the Jijis’ food deliveries.”
“That’s easy,” said Craig pointing across the field toward the rest area on the interstate. “A van makes deliveries twice a day. The Jijis come and go out of there all day.”
Bassett lifted the binoculars up. “How big of a truck.”
“More like a small moving van. Eighteen-footer, I’d say,” said Rick.
They chatted with the cousins for a few more minutes before leaving and heading east to the border. Bassett wanted to get in place before the next delivery, which was due in a few hours and threaded his way through the back roads. He had familiarized himself with the whole area because he was in charge of their borders and knew what roads were safe to travel.
This part of the state had a lot of open areas that were still being farmed up until the crash. While weeds had started taking over the fields, there weren’t enough to keep you from being spotted. However, some of the roads had plenty of trees and foliage to keep you hidden.
Sylvan Road was one of these, and it was just west of Manchester Road or Michigan 52, which was the Jijis’ border. It connected Interstate 94 where the Jijis were and US 12 where the cops kept watch.
All the windows on the SUV were down as Bassett drove on Sylvan Road. The guys stayed alert knowing they weren’t too far from the Jijis. Bassett found the dirt road he was looking for and took a left. He drove around a small bend to hide the SUV. Without any formality, the guys exited the vehicle and jogged back to the road.
“This is Chrysler’s Proving Grounds,” said Nordell as he climbed over the chain-link fence that surrounded the area. “You got around a hundred miles of road on thirty-eight hundred acres.”
“Sounds like a fun place to work,” said Meeks.
“Can be if you like to test drive cars. They got all kinds of different road conditions out here.”
“How far to 52?” asked Burns.
“A couple of miles,” said Bassett looking at Nordell.
He nodded. “We’ll have to split up though. We won’t be able to monitor both roads at the same time.”
Bassett partnered with Meeks and headed north towards the interstate while Burns and Nordell headed east. It took close to an hour to travel across the Proving Grounds’ diverse terrain. They didn’t dare walk on the roads in case Jijis were driving around on them. Bassett had thought about just staying with the cousins up on the roof. It would have been easier, but he wanted to be sure of the number vans used and how long the deliveries took.
They came to the edge of the woods and were right next to the interstate. Bassett wished he could have gotten closer to the overpass, but this was why he sent Burns and Nordell the other way. He wanted eyes on both roads at the same time.
Bassett froze when he heard leaves crunching to his left. He shot up a hand to signal Meeks. Both hunched down and stared through the trees. Bassett squeezed the hilt of his tactical tomahawk when he saw a Jiji coming toward them.
The last thing Bassett wanted was to be i
n a firefight. They were out in the open with no backup. Their vehicle was a couple of miles away, which meant they’d be doing some running. He had no doubt Meeks could keep up and likely be able to outrun him, but it wasn’t a great option if you had a couple of hundred pissed off Jijis chasing you. The better choice would be to take him out quietly and leave the area. The Jijis would find him, but they’d be long gone before that.
The man stopped and unzipped his pants to relieve himself. Bassett turned to Meeks who shrugged his shoulders. It took a minute before he finished and turned back to the interstate.
Bassett rose up and realized the Jijis had been using this area as a latrine. He motioned to Meeks who scrunched his face and started to move away when he spotted two more Jijis headed their way.
Chapter 4
Washington D.C.
Thomas boarded Mordulfah’s jet and took a seat toward the front. He had never flown in a small jet before and was astonished on how luxurious it was. The Gulfstream G650 was considered the gold standard of business jets. The first-class-style seats, as well as the walls, were wrapped in white leather. The tables, cabinets, trim and door were all mahogany. The thick, deep blue carpet sported gold pin stripping on each side.
Thomas couldn’t believe his luck when the prince asked him to come along. He knew he had moved up the food chain after the attack as some of Mordulfah’ key men had been killed. It was why Wali had to stay. He didn’t have anyone else he could trust to get the place cleaned up and reorganized.
Thomas leaned back in the leather seat and thought how promotion by death wasn’t a bad way to move up the company ladder. He was excited because he knew he’d be able to give the Shadow Patriots valuable information from this trip. He hoped it would impress Reese because he had a huge crush on her. He was shocked when she came to see him back in Jackson. He thought he’d never see her again after she had escaped from the mansion with Winters and Sadie. She looked banged up, which made him wonder if she wasn’t fighting with them. He had asked Mister Taylor about her, but he wasn’t forthcoming with any information, which meant they were protective of her. Thomas had heard she attacked a couple of the cops who were prisoners there and wondered why.
The G650 lifted off the runaway, and Thomas gripped the armrest tightly. He didn’t particularly like flying and trusted smaller jets even less. He tried to push it out of his mind by thinking about, Cara. He didn’t know she was dead and had been wondering how she was doing now that she was back with her father.
It was a daring rescue and a crazy night. All the shooting and chaos had men running around not knowing what to do or where to go. Then the horror among the men when they found out Cara, and the twins had escaped. They were afraid that Mordulfah would exact revenge on them. The death of CC gave him satisfaction because he felt she deserved it after conspiring against, Cara.
During the attack, Thomas hid and didn’t come out until the shooting stopped and then helped put the fire out by organizing the men. This endeared him further to Mordulfah because the man loved this mansion and what it represented, which is why he would rebuild it, regardless of the cost or time it took.
After the plane leveled off, Thomas fell asleep and didn’t wake until it landed in Washington DC. The flight attendant came up and escorted him and the pilots off the plane.
Two limousines were parked on the tarmac. Thomas watched as a chauffeur opened the back door of one of the limos. A tall, middle-aged man with a receding hairline stepped out. He wore black-framed glasses and a red tie on a tailored dark blue suit. He jogged up the stairs and disappeared into the jet.
Thomas thought he recognized him and tried to remember where he’d seen him before. He turned to the pilot and asked him.
“No idea,” shrugged the pilot.
“Yeah, you do,” said the copilot. “He was with Perozzi that one time we flew Mordulfah down to that private island in the Bahamas?”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. That big get-together with all those mucky-mucks. That was a helluva a trip. Remember all the women?”
“Yeah, some were a bit too young though.”
“Not for the prince,” snickered the pilot.
The two pilots kept reminiscing while Thomas kept thinking he knew the guy from somewhere. He wondered what they were talking about and wished he was inside sitting in on this secret meeting.
After fifteen minutes, the man exited the jet and came down the stairs. His chauffeur must have said something funny to him because the man laughed in a high pitched tone. The odd laugh finally gave up the mysterious man. Thomas remembered where he had seen him before. He had given the commencement speech at his graduation at the University of Tennessee.
His name was Albert Sauer and was the son of German immigrants that came to America after the war. He had gone to all the right schools and worked on Wall Street as a stockbroker before climbing the corporate ladder to become a CEO of a major bank.
Thomas thought perhaps he was now working in the new government but wasn’t sure. What was he doing here, talking with Mordulfah? There was an obvious banking connection, but why the secrecy of a meeting out on the tarmac?
Thomas put it out of his mind when the limo pulled away, and Mordulfah exited the jet. He joined the prince and climbed into the second limo. Mordulfah said nothing about the man and Thomas didn’t dare ask him. He sat back and watched the passing scenery. He’d never been to Washington before and hoped they would pass by some of the sights.
Chapter 5
Chelsea Michigan
Meeks began moving away from the outdoor latrine when two more Jijis came their way. Bassett signaled him to stand still. If spotted, they’d have a lot of angry Jijis chasing them through the woods. There was no way to take these guys down quietly if they saw them. All hopes of blending into the woods evaporated when one of the men stopped and stared at Bassett trying to figure out who he was.
Bassett let out a breath when the Jiji swung his rifle off his shoulder. Bassett had him beat and fired a single round taking him down. The sound of the Colt M4 echoed in the still air and alerted the rest of the enemy. Bassett aimed at the other Jiji and squeezed off another round, but missed him. The Jiji had taken cover behind a tree and yelled for his friends. He then started firing wildly into the woods hoping to hit something.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” said Bassett.
“And it was all going so well,” smirked Meeks as he followed Bassett through the woods.
“Bassett,” Nordell said over the radio, “give me a SITREP,” which was short for Situation Report.
“We’re busted here,” said Bassett. “We’re hauling ass back to the truck.”
“Copy that, we’ll meet you there.”
Bassett shoved the radio back into his vest pocket and turned to see if they had anyone on their tail. Not seeing anyone, he yelled for Meeks to hold up. They needed a plan to get back the fastest way. When they had crossed through the Proving Grounds before, it took nearly an hour. Granted, they did it at a leisurely pace, but even at a jog, it would still take too long. It was eight miles to their nearest guard post, which was too far away to call for help on the handheld radio. He wasn’t sure how motivated the Jijis were, but then he had just killed one of them. The Jijis hadn’t seen much action as of late so this would be a perfect opportunity for them to alleviate their boredom.
“Whaddya think?” asked Meeks.
“I think we just gave these guys their activity for the rest of the day.”
Meeks let out a scoff. “Yeah, probably so.”
“If these guys were smart, they’d start surrounding the area and cut off any chance of escape.”
“But they’re not, and they have no idea it’s just two of us.”
Leaves started rustling, and they turned to see six Jijis running through woods. Bassett and Meeks squatted down and watched them as they ran by them heading west. Meeks’ eyes flickered up and down as he raised his rifle. Bassett whispered for him to wait. Sure enough, another
group of four came bursting through the woods following the others. They were chattering in loud voices and an air of excitement was encouraging them.
Bassett tapped Meeks on the shoulder and signaled him to get behind this group. He decided to take these guys out, which will make the others more cautious. These guys weren’t professional and seemed a little too cock-sure and excited. They needed a reminder that if they continued, it was at their own peril.
Bassett raised his M4 to his shoulder and Meeks did the same thing as they rose up and got behind this group. They followed them as the Jijis came into a clearing exposing them. They were no more than thirty feet away as Bassett, pulling the trigger first, was immediately followed by Meeks. The nearest Jiji in the group took two rounds in the back sending him crashing into the man in front of him. Meeks also hit one in the back, and he dropped like a bag of rocks when both his lungs and heart were punctured. The third tried to veer away but caught multiple rounds exploding his head. The last one, who had been knocked down, rolled onto his stomach, raised his rifle and got one shot off that went wild before Bassett finished his mag on him.
“Let’s go this way,” said Bassett pointing south.
They raced across a small clearing before entering another set of woods just as the first group of six Jijis came running back.
“That ought to slow ‘em down for a bit,” said Bassett.
“Hell yeah, it will.”
They disappeared into the woods before turning around to see what their enemy was going to do. To their surprise, the Jijis started following them and shooting into the trees.
“Well, that didn’t work,” said Meeks.
“C’mon.”
They sprinted through the woods and soon came to a test road, which they had taken before to get in their original position. They crossed over, and Bassett grabbed Meeks’ arm.
“We’ll make a stand here.”
It was the perfect place to wait for an advancing enemy. It was seventy feet of open ground from one side of the road to the other. They would need to wait until all six were in the open before they fired. Bassett was counting on the fact they weren’t experienced enough to send one or two across at a time. He had hoped to leave a couple alive so they could tell their friends what happened. This would spread through their ranks and make them more cautious.