by Chris Hechtl
“Literally,” the general chuckled softly.
The chief gave her a bemused look. “Yes.” she shrugged.
“My agents thought it was just one man,” the director stated. “They went in blind. When they discovered the boy, they tried to detain him, and it went south,” the director said with a professional air.
“How bad?” the attorney general asked. “We've suspended habeas corpus for men. Any casualties?”
“No, it was a Mexican standoff. The agents released the boy and were allowed to leave.”
The attorney general relaxed visibly. “Well, that's good to hear.”
“Yes, well, I am rushing agents to the area now, but we're not equipped to handle armed resistance of this caliber,” the director said. She eyed the general who gave her a cold look. The director turned an appealing look to the president.
The president looked down and then adjusted her pendant. It wasn't right to call what she was doing squirming under that intense gaze of the soldier. Finally she looked up to them. “I … as the president I order other agencies to aid in suppressing this … insurrection against authority,” the president said. She held up a hand. “As long as there is no lethal force used,” she added as a provision.
“Yes, we can't have that. After all, if we kill them what good are they?” the general's voice drips sarcasm as the president rose to her feet. The others in the room hastily followed suit.
“That will be enough, General,” the president said tartly. She eyed the general sternly.
The general grimaced but then nodded grudgingly. “Yes, ma'am,” she said. The general turned to the director. “I am going to see my son tomorrow. He had better be all right, or there will be hell to pay,” she warned. The director squirmed and looked away.
“Why shouldn’t he be?” the president asked, clearly confused by such a statement. After all, the men were getting the best of treatment. They were being pampered and cosseted. She was a bit jealous of all the sexual attention Steve must be getting from the women there but knew it was important. It was for the race she reminded herself firmly as an aide came in and handed her a briefing tablet. The woman pointed to the clock. The president's eyes cut to it and then sighed as she got the message. “I have to go. I have a dinner with the ambassador of Russia. Get this under control stat.” she ordered.
“Yes, ma'am,” the women said in unison softly as the president dismissed them.
======+======
“Well folks, it is time to roll up the welcome carpet and raise the drawbridges, Eric,” Walker said firmly. He looked over to Eric. Eric nodded. Both men hadn't liked the look of things going on, and the radio chatter only confirmed some of their worst fears. The supposedly civilized women on the other side were all gunning for them. Dart guns, nets, everything and anything to catch one of them for the reward. There was talk on the radio about speculation hitting the semen market and a freeze on trading. Speculation was rampant, and there were complaints that the authorities weren't clamping down, nor had they taken the males into custody.
Worse, women in hunting gear were showing up and milling about on the other sides of the bridges. Police and vehicles were keeping them back but more and more were arriving by the minute. A few looked ready to rush the improvised barricades. A perimeter of vehicles was being set up to keep that from happening, but a few of the ladies were getting close to the edge of the gully, trying to figure out a way to cross. He saw a map flutter; someone was trying to find a route around. That wasn't good. He shook his head at the sight of more vehicles that were coming up the dirt road and parking on the other side of the gorge. “Let's do this. Now.” Eric nodded and then sounded the klaxon. The crowds of onlookers looked up in alarm.
He raised a familiar cylinder up into the air with one hand, then a detonator in the other. He waited a moment and then blasted the air horn three times, then hit the transmit button on his vest. “Warning bridge detonation in ten … nine …,” he said over the loud speakers. He did the countdown, smiling grimly as people hastily backed away from the bridges. When he got to one, the klaxon sounded one final time, then his thumb stabbed down on the red button. The bridge’s supports exploded, severed with det cord and plastic explosives. One by one they toppled into the rapids of the gorges below.
“That's it. Only one way in or out of here now,” Eric said with a sigh as he set the remote aside.
“You're forgetting the air, Eric,” Walker replied with a shake of his head.
“Or some idiot getting across on foot,” Benny piped up with a shrug.
Eric eyed him sourly. “Well, you're no help,” he growled.
“Just saying is all,” Benny muttered.
======+======
The sheriff looked at the shattered bridge and shook her head. Obviously this wasn't going to be resolved quickly, which sucked. But they'd stopped the yahoos from rushing her deputies and starting a bloodbath, so she owed them she thought. And they were just protecting themselves; she had to be sympathetic about that. After a moment of thought, she shrugged. She stood with one arm on her truck door and picked up the radio. She squeezed the mike trigger and talked into it, trying the guard frequency to see if they'd talk back.
Walker got word and went to the radio room. He listened to her entries and then finally responded. “This is Lost Sheep. Come in,” he said.
They formed a friendship quickly; he didn't hold a grudge. “I am not Sheriff Coltrane,” she said pointedly with a lilt in her voice.
He couldn't help but laugh. “So you heard that?” he asked.
“Ayeup,” she admitted with a slight grin in her voice. “Sharon told me. And I got a good look at you. No offense but you aren't no Bo or Luke Duke.”
He grimaced at that news, then snorted at her taunt.
“You do have nice buns though, hon,” she teased, taking a map from a blond deputy. She nodded her thanks and then studied it. She kicked herself for never checking the area out. There had never been a need! Now she knew they'd kept it quiet for a reason.
“Hey, you know this is going south fast, right?” she asked quietly.
He shrugged. “You expected something else?” he asked. “Gee gal, hell, I didn't even know. I was blissfully ignorant of you savage women up until I went to town. And boy, some welcome I got!” He laughed.
She did too. “Yeah, sorry about that. Trixie is a greedy bitch.”
He snorted. “Yeah, tell me about it.” He shook his head in disgust. He'd seen Trixie out in the group on the other side of the gorge. She had her own posse going. “Well, other than the whole male thing, they ain’t got no reason to bug us. We've got no tobacco, no stills, and no drugs of any kind. Hell, we've even paid our taxes! The kids are in school doing well. Doc checks everyone regularly,” he stated. “There are no sign of problems.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. And our vaccines are even up-to-date. Why not talk them into live and let live? You go your way, we'll go ours?”
“I can't do that, Lost Sheep; wish I could. I tried. In one ear, out the other. I was wondering what your cousins have been doing with all that window glass, now I know,” she said, looking at a map her deputy had handed to her.
“Yup, greenhouses,” he agreed and nodded. He snorted as a thought struck him. Slowly he let out a breath. “Yeah,” he drawled, eyes narrowing slightly. “Let me guess, you got to see a map of the farm, huh? Up-to-date aerial?” he asked, voice cooling ever so slightly.
The sheriff tugged on her earlobe. “Yeah, something like that,” she finally admitted. There was no point lying to the man. The whole idea was to establish trust and build on it to end this without a bloodbath.
“Huh. Since there aren't a lot of satellites up there now, I am betting it was probably a hybrid shot. It was probably satellite and an aircraft or a UAV. My money is on satellite; they probably don't have a UAV in the area. I haven’t seen a recce flight.”
“Um, recee flight?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
�
��Recon. No sign on radar,” he answered automatically, then felt like kicking himself.
Her eyebrows rose at that little drop. “Really? Radar? My, you are full of surprises,” she drawled.
“Eh, yeah, well, you try to predict this weather without help,” he snorted. She chuckled in agreement.
“It's the story of life I guess,” he said, shaking his head. “Well, gotta batten down more hatches for the blow. It was nice talking with you, Sheriff.”
“It's Casey,” she said softly with a smile. She ducked her head, embarrassed and feeling vulnerable. What was she doing, she thought, hitting on the guy? He probably had a damn harem. She had to establish a rapport, but they'd never let her stay with him! God, it had been so long since she'd talked with a guy!
“Right. Casey,” he smiled, toying with the name. “Night night, Miss Casey. I suggest you stay on your side of the gorge, and we'll stay on ours. Trespassers are not welcome here if you catch my drift.”
“Wait, Lost Sheep, um …”
“Out,” Walker said as he cut the channel.
======+======
“Well, this is interesting,” Walker said checking the vid feed. “It seems we're celebrities. Right up there with David Koresh and the wacko Waco cult,” he sighed as he heard the news spin. It was true. The female anchors and reporters were swarming the area now that word had gotten out. They weren’t happy about the local power outage though. It made them have to haul in their own generators, and getting fuel for them wasn't easy. Some of the townsfolk weren’t happy about the blackout either.
He was amused to see Sharon berating them for it. “What do you expect?” she snarled into the microphone, shielding herself from the camera's bright spotlight with one hand. “They give us food, fuel, power, timber, and you bite the hand that feeds you and then bitch because they pull it back and cut us off? Well, we got what we deserved, didn't we?” she glared. “I say leave them the hell alone. They aren't bothering anyone. They've done all right for us.”
Some of the others in the community nodded reluctantly in agreement. They were miserable, the power was out, food was questionable, and it was getting cold. If things went south, it would be a horrible season. Dropping back into the Stone Age with a flip of a switch had rattled some nerves Walker could see. Some would do anything to get the power back on, to get things back to normal.
The shooter didn't look upset, however; she was defiant despite the hostile looks around her. She stepped in and ranted in the dark about how the agents were ripping her off. Apparently she hadn't get a bounty for reporting him, and she was having none of it.
“My heart bleeds with sympathy,” Walker murmured. Then he winced. “Oh wait, that's my arm,” he muttered. “Going to feel that in the morning,” he sighed. The others in the room chuckled in sympathy.
“She's pissed about not getting a reward for your tattered ass?” Benny asked laughing. “What a bitch. Talk about a gold digger!”
“You're telling me,” Eric laughed. “Glad you didn't have fun with her I take it? Despite her being kinky?” he eyed Walker who laughed and shook his head.
“Yeah, well, kink is in, but I am not.”
They laughed together over his wit. More to relieve tension than at the witticism. So, we're in Defcon 2?” Benny asked when the laughter dried up. That sobered everyone.
Walker nodded. “Oh yeah, you betcha,” Eric said for him, slapping Benny's shoulder. “So much for sleep tonight. I still think we've got too much perimeter to cover.”
“The outer edge? Best place for an ambush so watch it,” Walker replied. They nodded again. “But we can pull in to a central ring if we get breached. Best to do it in stages. Draw this thing out, we can't regain ground,” he said with a shake of his head. They nodded. “The uglier it gets, the harder it will be for them to continue. I think we'd better prep Thermopylae though. Just in case.”
Eric blanched but then nodded slowly. “If you think we'll have to. Lord knows I hope it doesn't come to that though, boss.”
Walker grimaced as all eyes fell on him. “I don't want to, but it may be our only option eventually,” he sighed heavily. Eric nodded, still looking at him expectantly. “Still, I think it's time we spun this to our advantage,” he nodded to Billy and Jill coming in with her husband Josh and a camera crew.
“Are you kidding me?” Eric asked. “Oh, this I gotta see,” he drawled out wickedly. He smiled as he got outside of the camera range. The family took his vacant seat as well as others.
They pinned an American flag up behind them as a backdrop then Walker made a call. “Is this Angela at NBC? You're the media director for … why yes, ma'am, I am indeed a male,” he said amused. “Yes, I am a free male, I am not in anyone's custody. I don't think I've broken any laws, ma'am,” he chuckled. “No, not yet anyway. I believe you've heard of the attack in Vermont?” he asked, getting to the point. When he got the response he wanted, he nodded. “Yes, ma'am, that would be me and my family. I've got a camera crew set up and footage for your viewers, but it has to be live, streamed as well, and it ….”
He smiled like a shark. The others smiled as well. “Yes sure. Wait one,” he said. He held his hand up to the phone to cover the microphone.
“I can't believe this. You mean you're the first guy she's talked to in ages and she put you on hold?” Jill asked, clearly amused.
He rolled his eyes in response, twirling the chair left and right. After a moment there was a click. “Ah, yes, Miss Shorbert? This is Mister Wimsey in Vermont, I believe you’re running a story on me?” he asked. “Yes, I can go live; if you have a net connection, you can check the following URL for live video. I insist it be live though. Yes, that's fine. Now the URL?”
======+======
“This just in, we're talking with the male, a Mr. Wimsey, leader of the group in Vermont. Mister Wimsey is the head of household in a large compound recently discovered by authorities. There are several males there, and an armed resistance to federal agents took place earlier today,” the anchor said, laying the story out as a window opened with the live feed.
“Good evening, folks. My name is Walker Wimsey; with me is Josh, Jill, and their son Billy.” He indicated each guest in turn. “They were the injured parties in the assault and attempted abduction of Billy here.” He indicated the boy. The young man nodded in earnest.
“You mean alleged attempted abduction, sir,” the anchor said. “After all, they did have legal reasons … and they can detain.”
“I don't give a rat’s ass about that law. It's bogus and you know it,” Josh snarled. “No one is taking my son. Over my dead body,” he snarled, fists clenching.
“You mean you and your son, sir. The agents were there to pick you up as well,” the anchor said surprised at his vehemence, “and the other men in your community. You aren't supposed to be harmed. Quite the contrary it is for your own protection.”
“Well, we'll see about that,” Josh snarled again, crossing his arms. Jill looked up to him imploringly. “Cool it, honey,” she mouthed, slipping a hand into his. He rumbled a little but seemed to settle down. After a moment she stroked his arm.
“As to the alleged part, there is this for evidence,” Walker tapped at the keyboard and another window opened. It was split into four and a vid feed of the chopper landing and standoff was played from multiple camera angles. The media producers cringed but allowed it to air live. They had no choice; they were getting the scoop of a lifetime. They knew though there would be some screaming done when it was finished.
The anchorwoman watched, sobered by the events. She sucked in a breath then let out a strangled hiss when she saw the boy get shot.
“As you can see, we've got video evidence of the alleged agents tasering Jill, a pregnant woman, and spraying young Billy here with a tranquilizer. One that could have and nearly did kill him.”
The boy started to shake a little. His mother rubbed his shoulder. He turned and wrapped his arms around her neck. She rested her head on his, patt
ing his back. “It's okay, baby; they aren't going to come near you again,” she murmured. “I got you,” she soothed over and over. Josh tousled his son's hair, then squeezed his shoulder in support. After a moment one arm wrapped around his wife from behind.
Walker watched that then turned to the camera. “I'm curious, how many other mothers have had their sons ripped from their arms? Brothers, fathers, uncles, where are they? They lived ten years through hell; you think they can't be right here rebuilding society with everyone else?” He waved to indicate the room. “Like we have been doing in our little slice of America?”
“All we ask is to be left alone,” he said. He eyed the camera. “We're not a cult as some have alleged. Sure we've got some Christians here. But we've got a couple Jews, and I happen to be agnostic,” he said. Josh gave him a look. Walker shrugged.
He shrugged. “It's true,” he smiled.
“Um, yes, why didn't you report for registration with welfare?” the anchor asked, as she glanced at her teleprompter.
“Now, this all started when I heard something was up. I got wind of this welfare act, but I've been distracted with one thing or another here on the farm. We all have; we've been so wrapped up in running things smoothly here we lost sight of the big picture,” Walker said. He shot Jill an amused but annoyed look. “One thing after another kept keeping us focused on the here and now. Lightning strikes on a wind mill, the cows got into the barley, beaver damn flooded the back four—you know, life.” He shrugged.
“When the media got back in action and we started tuning in more, I caught a whiff of the changes,” he stated. He shot the women in the room a disgusted look. “It turns out the womenfolk here have either a curious sense of humor or one hell of a possessive streak. They found out what was going on with you folks but didn't tell us menfolk. In fact they were protecting us from it, or so they said,” he sighed.
Jill winced. Josh's jaw set, but he didn't say anything.