The Shadow Patriots Box Set 2

by Warren Ray

  Gunfire in the distance got their attention, and they stopped to listen. They recognized the different sounds of the M4 and AK-47 as the gun battle continued. The final sounds were from the Colt M4.

  “Sound like they took care of business,” said Meeks.

  “Yes, it does. Let’s start heading west,” said Bassett.

  Bassett was hoping Nordell and Burns could keep hidden and be able to get to the truck first. That way they could get in radio range and call for help. As things stood, it was reminding him too much of the Battle on Robinson Road. It was similar because the enemy had the opportunity to surround them in a small area. Granted the Proving Grounds was much bigger than the woods behind Robinson Road, but still, it was very reminiscent. The enemy certainly had the manpower to do so if they desired.

  Bassett looked at his watch, which read four o'clock. They had five hours of daylight left with no night-vision optics and not enough ammo. Thankfully, both carried a canteen of water and several snack bars.

  They reached the first of four roads they needed to get across. They stopped at the edge of the woods. It was a hundred feet of open ground with too many places for the enemy to be lying in wait.

  “What ya think?” asked Meeks.

  “Don’t like our options but we got no choice.”

  “One at a time?”

  “No. It’ll give them a heads up for the next guy.”

  “Alright. On three,” stated Meeks.

  Meeks counted down, and they bolted across the road each looking opposite ways for any signs of Jijis. Four seconds later, they reached the safety of woods with neither of them seeing anyone on the road. They continued running and quickly came to the next road, which was narrower than the last. They were about to cross when a loud popping pierced the air. It was a pickup with a bad muffler approaching.

  Bassett crouched down next to Meeks and watched a truck with armed men in the back zip by them.

  Meeks shook his head in disbelief. “Thanks for the warning.”

  The truck stopped several hundred yards south of them, and everyone disembarked. A few walked into the woods, but the rest stayed with the vehicle.

  Bassett lifted his binoculars and focused on the group. There were ten, and none of them were looking in their direction. It was now or never.

  “Follow my lead,” ordered Bassett as he started to do a low crawl across the road.

  Meeks usually beat Bassett or anyone else when they were running because of his athletic ability. However, this didn’t include crawling, which wasn’t as easy as running especially at his age. The much younger Bassett had him beat by a few seconds and had time to look through the binoculars again. No one took notice of them, and they dashed through the woods to the third road. They had just made it to the other side when their radio came alive.

  Chapter 15

  Washington D.C.

  Thomas walked behind Mordulfah after he exited the limousine in a warehouse district on the outskirts of Baltimore. The whole area was rundown but still had plenty of activity with tractor-trailers pulling in and out of the shipping docks. They were here to meet with Colonial Khan. He was the man Mordulfah’s uncle had put forth in getting rid of the Shadow Patriots.

  They approached a door, which had a camera pointing down at the entrance. Thomas pushed the intercom button and expected someone to speak but instead, the door buzzed. He pulled it open and waited for Mordulfah to enter first.

  The two-story open interior was close to ten thousand square feet and had dorm rooms sectioned off on each level. Gym equipment sat in the back, with some men working out. There was another area for daily prayers and an open kitchen.

  Thomas was stunned when he realized this was where Colonel Khan had his men quartered. The conditions weren’t the best, but then they were probably used to much worse. The battle-hardened men stopped what they were doing and turned to watch Mordulfah.

  An older man approached them. He wore a beard, which he had dyed black. He was physically fit, stood five-foot-eight, and had an air of confidence about him.

  “Prince Mordulfah,” said Colonel Khan as he bent down slightly to show him deference. “I am Colonel Khan.”

  “Colonel,” said Mordulfah not bothering to introduce Thomas to him.

  “I understand I’m to help you with your situation in Detroit.”

  “Yes.”

  Mordulfah was putting his practice of silence to good use on the Colonel who was being forced to fill in the gaps. Thomas noticed Khan already had a slight change in his mannerisms.

  “Perhaps I can show you the men.”

  Mordulfah nodded.

  Khan looked over to his assistant and gave him an order in Arabic, which Thomas didn’t speak. The assistant then yelled out in Arabic, but Thomas didn’t need to understand the order to know what it meant. Khan’s men began pouring out of the dorms to line up. It was impressive to see how quickly and organized five hundred men lined up for inspection.

  Thomas followed behind Mordulfah as he walked from one end to the other inspecting the men. These were not like the rabble he had with him in Detroit, who mostly drifted in from the area looking for work and a chance to kill. These men standing at attention were experienced and maintained an air of serious confidence.

  “These men seem up to the task,” said Mordulfah.

  “They’re all battle-tested and are my best men.”

  “You’ll be up against a formidable enemy.”

  “My men have all fought the American military. They do not frighten us.”

  Mordulfah turned and stared at the colonel for a moment. “These are not American military, but ordinary men, fighting for their homeland. They fight with a passion and have been quite successful. Do not underestimate them.”

  “I can assure you, we are up to the task.”

  “We shall see. Can you be ready today?” asked Mordulfah.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll arrange transportation, and you can fly in tonight.”

  “Perhaps you could give me an overview of your situation?” asked Khan.

  Mordulfah turned to Thomas and motioned for his briefcase. Thomas held it open and Mordulfah took out a map of Michigan. It already had areas marked off where the Shadow Patriots were stationed and where his men were and the National Police as well. He gave him an overview of the skirmishes and how many men he had lost. Khan listened until Mordulfah was finished.

  He studied the map and asked what his total manpower was and how many of them were currently guarding the town. He then laid out a solid battle plan to force the rebels into a corner.

  Thomas had to fight to maintain a straight face because what he was hearing was disheartening and he realized the Shadow Patriots were in for an intense fight. This Colonel knew what he was doing and would show no mercy to the people of Jackson.

  Mordulfah nodded and headed back to the limo with Thomas in tow. Once inside the car, Thomas didn’t say anything but wanted to know if the prince liked what he heard. Mordulfah was difficult to read and seemed indifferent to Khan.

  “What did you think?” asked Mordulfah.

  “Sir?” asked a surprised Thomas.

  “Don’t play coy with me, I know you’re curious as to what I think, but first I want to hear your thoughts.”

  “Well, sir, I’m not a military man, but I’d have to say those were some scary looking men.”

  Mordulfah nodded.

  “They’re different from what we currently have,” said Thomas. “His battle plan seems sound as well.”

  “Indeed. These men are exactly what we need to break those rebels.”

  Thomas continued to watch Mordulfah for the rest of the trip back to Detroit and noticed the man’s spirits seemed lifted. Thomas began to formulate an excuse to leave Grosse Pointe on an errand so he could warn the Shadow Patriots. They needed to know an attack was imminent and they would be fighting an experienced army. Unfortunately, he couldn’t come up with any ideas and thought perhaps it was time
to run off permanently.

  Chapter 16

  Jackson Michigan

  Reese was in her element as she tore down the street showing off her driving skills to Nate, who was the expert on cars. He never bothered to put his seatbelt on, mostly because the strap would have been agony on his damaged shoulder. Regardless, he was enjoying the company and the wind blowing across his face to worry about safety. He hadn’t been too active since the hospital attack where he fought a cop hand-to-hand. During the struggle, his stitches tore open and set his healing back by a few more days.

  Thankfully, the girl sitting next to him had pulled his butt out of that jam. Had it not been for her, he wouldn’t be here enjoying the drive. He glanced over at her and admired her tenacity. She went full on beast-mode by jumping on that cop and slicing his throat. Even after he slammed her on the table and punched her ribcage, she was still able to gather her wits and kill him.

  The separation between houses increased and they were now out in the country. Nate hadn’t been in this area before and didn’t recognize where they were. Not that it mattered much because that’s why they had maps.

  Reese wasn’t doing many turns because it put too much strain on his shoulder. He’d rather see her push the limits of the truck as it was something he did in his youth. Burning rubber was a lot of fun and quite exhilarating. He let out a sigh because it was another thing to add to the list of things he couldn’t do.

  He wasn’t living up to the Attila the Hun moniker Bassett had given him. It was frustrating being a drag on the group, but mostly he hated missing all the action. This is what gnawed at him the most. So much had happened and he wasn’t able to get in on any of it.

  Lost in thought, Nate leaned his head back when he heard a noise in the distance. He sat back up and stuck his head out the window.

  “What?” asked Reese.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “I thought I hear a gunshot.”

  Another round of popping got their attention. Reese slowed the truck down and then came to a full stop. Neither said anything but stared at each other while straining to hear. More gunfire erupted, and Reese let off the brake and continued heading east toward the shooting.

  “Isn’t Bassett and Meeks out this way?” asked Reese.

  “Yes, they are.”

  A shiver shot through Reese as she stepped on the gas. They were on Old US Hwy 12, which emptied out on the interstate.

  “How far do you want to go?” asked Reese.

  “In radio range,” answered Nate, as he grabbed the radio off the dash. He tried to raise Bassett to no avail. The range on the small handheld radio varied by fluctuations of line-of-sight, but typically, they were only good for a couple of miles at best.

  Reese reached into her backpack and took out a Colt .357 Python. The nickel-plated four-inch barrel was compact and easy to carry as a spare. Badger had loaned her the revolver to use while driving alone because it would never jam.

  She checked the cylinder before shoving it between her legs and then pulled a map out throwing it to Nate. “We’re on Old Hwy 12 and just passed Francisco Road.”

  Nate unfolded the map and quickly found their location. “We’re about four miles from the interstate.”

  Nate then put his Colt M4 on his lap and racked the lever back. Ever since the hospital attack, he never went anywhere without his weapon. It had been a painful yet valuable lesson, one he’d never forget.

  The red needle on the speedometer topped ninety as Reese kept the pedal to the floor. The old Chevy’s engine screamed as they flew down the road. Nate took another look at the map and told her to slow down and take the next right. She eased up on the gas pedal, and the engine quieted down as the truck began to coast. She saw the turn and braked before taking the turn onto Braeburn Circle. She stopped at the entrance of what was a small neighborhood with only four houses.

  Nate keyed the radio. “Bassett come in.”

  After a couple of more tries, Bassett responded.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Nate and Reese out for a drive.”

  Bassett gave a quick heads up on their situation.

  “Copy that. We’ll go for help.”

  Reese began backing up the truck when two cars approached from the left. They were full of Jijis. The hair on the back of her neck bristled with a combination of excitement and fear. Her job had just gone from easy to complicated and dangerous.

  She grabbed the Python and pulled the hammer back. She fired two shots hitting the windshield with one round striking the passenger.

  “Hang on,” she yelled, as she shoved the gearshift into drive. She rocketed through the small neighborhood but ran out of road. She swung the truck onto a grassy field hitting the turn so hard, it threw Nate into the door.

  Both cars fell in behind them in hot pursuit.

  Reese let out a sigh of relief seeing an open field. It was almost guaranteed you could get anywhere you needed to go, but as she passed by a small pond, it reminded her to not get cocky.

  “Swing to the left and then make a wide right turn,” said Nate, as he lifted the M4 to the window. “I want to take some pot shots at these guys.”

  Reese gave him a lopsided smile knowing what he wanted her to do. The field was big enough to draw these two in, and she knew just what to do to get these guys to follow her. She slowed down before swinging to the right. The second car started to turn away to try and cut her off. She gunned the engine, and the truck went into a full controlled spin. Had the situation not been so serious, she’d be laughing in hysterics as the tires kicked dirt and grass high in the air.

  The second car came into Nate’s sight. He had to brace himself with his leg against the floorboard while holding onto the M4 with his one good hand. He lined up a shot and pulled the trigger. Rounds penetrated the windshield before the driver swerved to the left to protect himself leaving his passengers exposed. Nate took advantage and fired directly into the passenger side. Multiple rounds hit the windows killing both passengers as blood splattered throughout the interior.

  The first car broke off the chase while Reese continued spinning the truck around. Nate emptied the magazine but this time on the driver’s side.

  “They’re done,” yelled Nate.

  Reese let go of the steering wheel, and the truck jerked the other way before she grabbed the steering wheel again. Just up ahead was a road and she tore off towards it.

  “Take it easy hitting the asphalt,” warned Nate.

  Reese nodded and slowed down before making a right onto Sylvan Road to head south. The first car followed but stayed far back.

  “That was friggin awesome,” screamed Reese. “Hell, those poor bastards didn’t stand a chance.”

  “Nice driving kiddo,” said Nate.

  “Nice shooting.”

  Reese’s heart raced as she took in a couple of hurried breaths. She white-knuckled the steering wheel as she the punched the accelerator. She had no idea where this road would take her and ordered Nate to find them on the map.

  He reached for it and found what he was looking for. “Take a right on Heim Road.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Coming up.”

  Sweat beaded on her forehead when she saw cars sitting up the road blocking their turn onto Heim Road. Now she understood why the car behind her didn’t bother following too close. They were about to be boxed in.

  Chapter 17

  Winnipeg Manitoba

  Winters had arrived with the injured Finley and her family early in the morning. After arriving he had taken Laney and Collette to the big cafeteria to get something to eat when Sadie came charging in.

  It had been a joyous reunion, and Sadie had taken it upon herself to give the two girls the grand tour. This had given Winters the chance to get some sleep before his meeting with General Standish later in the afternoon.

  Winters had just finished debriefing General Standish and Colonel Brocket on the S
hadow Patriots activities, and as always, the two military men were impressed with what they heard. They admired the Shadow Patriots enough to continue supporting them with supplies.

  Brocket then informed Winters of some Americans who wanted to volunteer. They had been waiting for the last week in hopes of finding out where they could go. It was excellent timing because he needed drivers to bring supplies back to Jackson. He had considered asking the girls but didn’t want to put their lives at further risk. They had done enough last night, and there was no sense in pushing his luck.

  Brocket led Winters to the sleeping quarters where the men had been staying. He explained to him they were from Minnesota and knew Bill Taylor.

  He gave the door a short knock, and a man who was in his early forties answered the door. Jack Butler stood at five-foot-nine and kept what remained of his hair short. It was almost at a length where he could shave it rather than cut it.

  “Mister Butler, this is Captain Winters of the Shadow Patriots.”

  “Captain, my friends and I have been waiting to meet you.”

  Winters noticed the roughness of his hand as he shook it and figured he had been in construction or something of that nature. Definitely someone who wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, which was the sort of person he liked having around. The harder the man, the better fighter he typically was, at least it was with what he had observed over the last few months.

  “I understand you want to join us,” said Winters.

  “We do. Me and my two buddies that is, you know. We, all ah, grew up and went to school together and been itching to do something.”

  “How did you know to come to Winnipeg?”

  “Well, you know, we’re from Minneapolis, and I know Bill Taylor, so, you know, I heard through the grapevine that, ah, you know, that this was the place to come.”

  “You know, Bill?”

  Butler nodded.

  “Well, any friend of Bill’s is a friend of mine. Glad to have you aboard.”

  “When will we be heading out and where?”