“Captain, come in.”
Hal lifted his radio. “What’s up, Elliott?”
“We have a situation.”
“Hal?” Andrea called from the hall, trying the door. “Alex.” She pounded.
Hal’s expression completely dropped. “On it, keep me posted.”
“Hal.”
“Damn it,” He shifted his eyes to Andrea as he raised his headset and called out. “Frank?”
Frank looked.
“Cut it.” Hal ordered. “In coming.” Hand grasping his goggles, he slipped the strap over his head.
A kick of his foot and Frank silenced the jukebox. Just as he registered what it was that Hal was doing and what he meant, he saw Hal fly backwards from an obvious hit?
“Sport them. They come in pink gentlemen.” Frank ordered out, whipping his goggles from his back and raising them upward to place them on. Just about on, he caught it sailing through the corner of his eye,
The cue ball.
Frank ducked and the ball nailed the jukebox.
When he rose he wore the goggles. “Oh, yeah.”
Women screamed, Tables soared upwards. Glasses crashed, Men sailed.
Frank pulled his revolver.
Hal couldn’t find a moment to put his infrared on. He swung out aimless, taking shots he never saw coming.
“Hal!” Frank called out.
Hal looked up.
Frank tossed him a pool stick.
Hal caught it and used it as a weapon.
“Frank!” Andrea screamed. “Alex. Locked in the bathroom. Help.” Her last word transformed into a scream as she was lifted into the air, victim of an invisible predator and carried backwards.
Frank charged her way. In the hallway, near the back exit, Andrea kicked and fought her assailant that held her.
Frank raised his revolver. “Andrea! Head. Right.”
Andrea titled her head.
Frank fired, pivoted his body and rammed shoulder first into the bathroom door, breaking it open.
An explosion of blood still drizzled in the air as Andrea dropped to the floor.
“Fuck!” Frank bolted from the bathroom and from the hall. “Hal! Alex is gone!’
Hal turned his head.
“Captain,” Elliott called over the radio. “One of them has your niece. Carrying her.”
With a dictate of, “Handle this,” to Frank, Hal charged like a bull through the mayhem out of Hoi-Hoi on the Range.
He burst out into the cool air. “Where?” he asked Elliott.
“Left. Down Main. Toward …”
“I see her.” Hal spotted the floating and a fast bobbing body of his niece disappearing. He then spotted Bill Blaise’s horse tied up a half a block up the road.
“Captain, hurry. I don’t want to make judgments, but they’re headed with her to the Killer Baby perimeter.”
Charging legs, full speed ahead, Hal ran to the horse. A pull of his sword, he swiped down, cut the tie, mounted the horse and with a snap to the horse’s backside, a ‘Ha’ the horse reared up then took off.
He couldn’t have been any more frustrated. Elliott’s eyes moved from monitor to monitor, wanting to charge out and help, but at a loss to do so. He had to hold his post. “Captain.” He beckoned.
Future soldier or not, no man ran faster than a horse. Unless they were mutated like Frank. Which Hal knew was not the case. He also could see the perpetrator carrying Alex over his shoulder.
“Uncle Hal!” she cried out.
The region, a nearly erected wall, secured by a beam, wasn’t that far ahead.
Hal snapped the reins and picked up speed. Switching hands with the sword, Hal without stopping, swung down his hand in his pass, snatched up Alex and lifted her to the horse.
She screamed, facing Hal, immediately, locking her arms and legs around his front.
Hal brought the horse to a pause in the nick of time and turned him around, staring out.
The horse huffed out. Steam rose from its mouth. And for some reason, through the steam mixed with the light of the moon, briefly, Hal caught the outline of the IFFY. He knew where he was. Smiling, Hal charged the horse forward, still holding Alex, raised his sword and just as he sped, by, hoping his sense served him right, he swooped downward hard and furiously, performing a perfect Hal style decapitation.
***
It was like trying to see a black object. It was nearly impossible. He wore the night vision goggles but they kept reflecting something... Something bright kept flashing in his eye.
It was about the fourth time when Robbie realized he had to be tired. The reflection obviously had to be some sort of distraction from Mike.
He lifted the goggles, allowing them to perch on top of his head and Robbie peered out. Every few seconds he heard movement, then see a quick flash of light.
Four Society soldiers were perched about six feet from the base of his tree. Armed, aiming and ready.
“Callahan.” Robbie called out through the radio. “He’s here.”
“What’s he doing?”
“I can’t tell. Night vision isn’t working right.”
“I’m on my way up. I just arrived.”
“Stay back, this one’s mine,” Robbie said. “Finders keepers.”
“I’m on my way.”
Robbie shook his head. He had to get Mike and get him down before Callahan or her men saw him.
Hiss. “I’m ordering the spotlights. They’ll be up in a minute,” Callahan told him.
To Robbie that was great, He planned on not missing his shot the second the lights came on. Finger on the trigger, eyes peeled, he thought he caught movement and then … a single shot rang out.
Grunt. Thump.
“Man down. We have a man down.”
Another shot.
Robbie looked down. The second of Callahan’s men took a bullet. “Fuck.” He grabbed the radio. “He’s taken a sniper’s position.”
Another shot.
Another down.
“Get back. Get back,” Robbie ordered the soldier. But the soldier fired out blindly. Robbie called out, “Manis! Cease fire!”
Out of the trees, down to the other man, another shot came and the soldier who was trying to back up, stopped.
Callahan approached.
“Get back!" Robbie charged. “He’s got a sniper’s position. Get back. Where the fuck are the spotlights?”
“They’re coming,” Callahan said, she position herself behind Robbie’s tree. “I don’t see him.”
“One o’clock. He’s up high.”
“Come on,” Callahan adjusted her radio. “Where are my spots?”
Another shot.
Robbie heard it. It hit with a deadened sound. He looked down.
George was at a distance. But not far enough not to see Callahan take a hit and drop. Upon seeing that, George didn’t hesitate. He jumped from the jeep and raced forward.
Stay there. Wait for a shot of Mike, or help those who had fallen. With that question in mind, Robbie, harnessed his rifle around his shoulder and dropped from the tree. “Callahan.”
“My men.” She struggled to breath, a single shot hit center of her chest saturating her uniform in blood.
He knew the fate of her men. “They’ll be fine. Let’s move you out.” He raised the radio. “I need medical attention. At the gate. Now. Four men down.”
“They’re on the way.” George’s voice emerged.
“What the fuck?” Robbie said. “Get back. You can’t be here. Get back.”
“You need help.”
“I need to get Callahan out of here,” Robbie reached for her, as he did the spot lights came on. He turned his head. In the distance, standing by a tree, Mike was illuminated. He pulled his weapon around.
Mike aimed.
Robbie knew. “George get down!” He extended his arm and leaned his body to the side.
A shot. One shot.
Robbie went down.
George had Mike in his view an
d focus, and with an angry growl, reached down, grabbed Robbie’s rifle, lifted it and aimed.
In the scope, as Mike made a motion to move, George fired.
He didn’t know if he hit his target, because he dove out of the way just as a bullet seared by him. He landed by Robbie and his hand plopped it a huge puddle.
Blood.
Looking at the obvious, George scanned Robbie. Head … fine. His eyes squinted in pain. Chest... fine. Where? Where …
The thigh. As George examined, he knew it wasn’t just a leg hit; the bullet must have hit the femoral artery. Blood shot like a geyser from Robbie’s leg.
“Son of a bitch.” George undid his belt quickly, pulled it from the loops, lifted Robbie’s leg and secured it tightly. He pulled on the belt until the bleed slowed. Then removing his shirt, he placed it to the thigh. “Can you hold this? Tight?” he asked Robbie.
Robbie nodded.
“I need some goddamn help out here!” George yelled out then scurried to Callahan. She was out. His hand felt for the pulse that was there but weak. “Come on, Bertha, hold on.”
Brakes rang out as three jeeps screeched to halt.
“Thank God, get these two down to the hospital now!” George stood up.
“Right away, sir.”
George had to take a moment. He wiped his hand across his forehead, and then bent down for the tranquilizer rifle.
“Sir!”
George looked.
“Sir we have him,” A soldier called out.
Walking his way, three soldiers had the big man. Mike struggled, but not hard. His head wobbled and his height and weight presented a problem for those who tried to being him forward.
“You hit him,” the soldier said. “We got the dart. He’s a big guy. It’s not working. What should we do? He’s not out.”
With a snarl, a shift of his eyes to the rifle then to Mike, George raised the weapon, turned it, revved back and with all his might rammed the butt of the file into Mike’s face.
Mike’s head fell forward and his body went limp.
“He’s out now,” George said. “Take him into custody. Lock him up. I’ll deal with this later. Right now …” he looked at the jeeps as they pulled away with Callahan and Robbie. “I have other things to deal with.”
***
“Oh, yeah, more invisible suits.” Frank nodded proudly, arms folded.
“Alex, please, just stay put.” Hal placed Alex on the bar to sit, stepped over a chair, and called out, “Gentlemen, let’s work a little harder and faster to get this place cleaned up.” He headed to Frank.
“Hal, watch …”
Hal’s foot caught the unseen body of an IFFY and he nearly toppled. He grunted. “Frank. I thought we agreed to paint the suits so we see them.”
“Hal if we paint them we ruin them. We need the suits.”
“Do you think we should be using them? Seriously, Frank, think about it.”
“Hmm.” Frank rubbed his chin.
“The implications alone that they may have on the future.”
Frank nodded.
“So what do you think? Should we use them?”
“Absolutely.”
Hal stepped back. “Absolutely? Frank? These suits will affect the future.”
“How?”
“For one, they came from the future.”
“Exactly, so how can they effect the future?”
“Because from the future’s point of view, we never had the suits.”
“How do we know?” Frank asked. “The future may have known we had them all along. The future may have gotten them from us when we got them from the future.”
“I don’t think so,” Hal said. “Us having them now and having them from this point forward can have an impact on the future.”
“Don’t we want to change the future?”
“Yes, but for the better.”
“And us having the invisible suits now won’t make things better? Hal, think about the camps we can penetrate. How much damage four men can do by just walking in unseen.”
Hal bobbed his head from side to side.
“Battalions of men, charging forth, thinking they are facing an open field. Four good shooters, in invisible suits, in sniper positions can wipe them all out. These are the weapons we need. Trust me.”
Hal sighed. “What in Christ’s name happened here?” Joe’s voice carried in.
Frank saw Joe walking his way. “Dad, watch your …”
Joe stumbled over a body, but caught himself before he careened down to the floor.
“Step,” Frank smiled.
“Thanks Frank, you asshole.” Joe shook his head. “I got a message from Elliot Ryder saying there was some trouble here in Bowman. He didn’t mention the Hoi-Hoi on the Range was torn apart. How many Iffy’s were there?”
Frank shrugged. “Fifteen at least. We can’t see them all yet to count. Most of this damage was caused by Hal’s men.”
“My men?” Hal shouted. “You are a one man demolition derby Frank.”
“You weren’t any help. You were out.”
“I was saving Alex.”
Joe stopped cold. “Alex? My granddaughter Alex?”
“Hi Pap-Pap.” Alex waved. “Uncle Hal saved me.”
Joe spun a look to the tiny little girl who called out with such enthusiasm. His eyes widened and he looked down to his watch. “It’s eleven thirty. Why is she out at a bar at eleven thirty at night?”
“I brought her,” Frank said. “Father Daughter bonding.”
“You can’t bring a child out at this time of night.” Joe blasted. “And this sort of incident is the exact reason why.”
“In my defense,” Frank said. “She was safe.”
“I don’t care, Frank. It’s irresponsible parenting.”
Frank chuckled “Please, like you were never an irresponsible parent.”
“I never was an irresponsible parent,” Joe argued,
“Yes, you were.”
“When.”
“When …. When …” Frank thought.
Joe nodded. “Come on, when?”
Frank snapped his finger. “When you used to leave for days on end and leave us with strange women.”
“Those strange women were your stepmothers.”
“Still… it was irresponsible, they hated us.”
“You’re so goddamn full of shit I …”
“Joe.” Across the room, loudly, very loud, Andrea called his name.
"There,” Frank said. “If having Alex here was all that bad why didn’t Andrea yell at me? She’s like the mother of the year.”
Joe asked Andrea as soon as she approached. “Did you know Alex was here?”
Top of her lungs loud, Andrea answered. “What was that?”
Frank replied just as loud. “He asked if you knew Alex was here.”
“Yes.” Andrea shouted. “I knew. She was playing pool. Hal.”
Hal gave an upward motion of his head in acknowledgement.
“Thank Elliott for the clothes for me. I know this isn’t an Andrea look but the slacks fit well.”
Joe’s right eye twitched then he put his finger to his ear and rubbed. “Why are you screaming?”
“What?” Andrea asked
“I said! Why are you screaming?”
“What? A little louder!”
“Frank.” Joe winced.
Frank asked, “He wants to know why you are screaming? Oh!” Frank looked at Joe. “A gun fired really close to her. An IFFY had her. I had to shoot it.”
“In the head?” Joe asked.
“What?” Andrea screamed. “I can’t hear you!”
“Okay!” Joe blasted his loudest. “But we as sure as shit can hear you!”
“What!”
“Jesus Christ,” Joe grumbled. “She’s doing this on purpose.” He turned around, totally frustrated, trying to catch his bearings, when the phone rang, “Hello.”
He exuded an energy that screamed everyone into a sil
ence. Joe’s whole demeanor changed. He had four short, one word questions. “Who? What? When? How?” before he said, “Call me back.” And hung up.
Hal stepped forward.
“What’s wrong?”
“Robbie …” Joe looked around the faces. “Robbie’s been shot.”
***
They hustled back to Beginnings, but even at a quick return, Joe had heard nothing. They summoned Jimmy and headed directly to the communications room where they waited on a summary report fax.
Joe grew impatient and placed a call. He asked Jimmy if he knew a Sgt. Nielson, Jimmy was clueless.
His best answers would be from Callahan or Hadley, so Joe, impatient, placed another phone call.
Stewart Lang?
To the best of Joe’s knowledge he hadn’t heard of or from Stewart in a long time.
“This is Joe Slagel,” Joe said after a pause in registering Stewart’s name.
“Mr. Slagel,” Stewart said. “I understand your need for information, but I just arrived, I can tell you as much as Nielson has told me. Your son is in stable condition, but is still in surgery. I can assure you the best doctors are working on him.”
“Where was he shot?”
“I don’t know. I’m waiting for ….ah, here it is now.”
“The summary?”
“Yes, I’m having it faxed right over as we speak. Then you can see exactly what the Sergeant present witnessed.”
“Any way I can speak to Callahan?”
“I wish you could. Callahan’s in critical condition right now.”
“Shot?”
“Yes.”
“Was this Mike?”
“Manis? Yes.”
“Goddamn it.” Joe said. “Was he the one who shot my kid?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Can I speak to George?”
“Not at this time, he is at the hospital.”
“Was he shot, too?”
“No, just waiting for information regarding Callahan and your son.”
Joe received a signal from Frank that the fax arrived. “Stewart thanks for your help. Keep me posted. I got the fax.”
“Yes, Mr. Slagel.”
Joe hung up. “What’s it look like?” He asked Frank.
“At least his handwriting is neat.” Frank handed it over. “I thought you should read it first.”
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