Bug Out! Part 10: RV Race to Battle

by Robert Boren

  “True,” Jerry said. “We should be back on line in about fifteen minutes.”

  “And they might think they’re safe for longer than that,” Terry said, smiling.

  “Assuming they haven’t outsmarted Frank,” Jeb said.

  Jerry laughed. “They’re already back.”

  His phone rang again.

  “Jerry here.”

  “See the outage?”

  “Yeah, Frank. Already back.”

  “My program learns. Looks like it’s working well.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Bye, Frank.”

  “Well, there you go,” Jerry said, chuckling as he went back to the long range app.

  “What?” Terry asked.

  “He put some learning capability into the program,” Jerry said. “That’s why it came back so fast.”

  “This might help us out, like Terry was saying,” Jeb said, looking back, grinning.

  ***

  The paramedics worked on the biker as soon as they got him on the gurney.

  “How does he look?” Deputy Lawrence asked.

  “Oh, I think he’ll survive,” one paramedic said, looking around. “What the hell happened here?”

  “We don’t know for sure,” the deputy said. “It might just be a wrong place at the wrong time event.”

  “Drug deal?” the other paramedic asked.

  “Nah, we don’t think so,” the deputy said, looking around.

  “Well, we’d better get him in. Thanks.”

  “No problem,” the deputy said. He looked towards the house, where the Sheriff was taking pictures. “Should I shoot photos out here?”

  “Nah, let’s get them all on the same camera,” Sheriff Branson said. He was done in the front of the house, and worked the driveway. The deputy walked over and watched.

  “You call the feds?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “They were very interested, too. Should be here shortly.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” Sheriff Branson said. “Don’t say anything to them unless I’m with you.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t trust feds. They grandstand, and if they screw up, they try to blame the local PDs. Been there, done that. If they touch anything, I’m taking pictures and noting it.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Deputy Lawrence said, nodding towards the front driveway. Sheriff Branson stopped taking pictures and looked up, seeing two black SUVs heading towards them.

  “Dammit,” Sheriff Branson said. “I wanted to get pictures of everything before they got here. Go take photos of the guy out in the field, and then shoot the mess up front. I’ll talk to them.” He handed the camera over, and the deputy walked away. “Remember what I said about talking to them.”

  The deputy turned and gave him a thumbs up sign, just as the first SUV pulled up next to Sheriff Branson.

  The passenger door opened, and an agent came out, hurrying over.

  “Hello, Sheriff Branson. Thanks for calling us. I’m Special Agent Simon Keith. I’ll be running the investigation here.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand. They shook.

  “What do you think happened here?” Agent Keith asked.

  “Ambush, but with some very interesting details,” he said.

  “Such as?”

  “Well, they tried to stage the bodies up in the front to make it look like one of our deputies and a biker shot it out.”

  “I see,” Agent Keith said. “What else?”

  “These bikers aren’t the organized crime types. They’re weekend warriors from Michigan, who probably had no idea what was about to happen to them.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Look at them, Agent Keith. See any of them with guns?”

  “Now that you mention it, no,” he said, looking at the carnage on the driveway. He glimpsed the woman hanging on the wall. “What the hell?”

  “Yeah, another staging, by the way. They tried to make it look like a biker slit that woman’s throat. Doubtful.”

  “There’s something else too, isn’t there?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “There’s a torture room in the basement, and it’s been used recently. I’ll bet if you check the blood type of that woman, you’ll find that it matches the blood on the floor down there.”

  Deputy Lawrence trotted over.

  “Got the pictures?”

  Sure did, Sheriff.” He handed the camera back to him.

  “Could you send me files, Sheriff?” asked Agent Keith.

  “Of course, just let me know where,” he said. “Oh, this is Deputy Lawrence. Deputy, this is Agent Keith.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” he said.

  “Who’s that?” the Sheriff asked, squinting, looking down the driveway.

  “It’s an ambulance,” Agent Keith said. “There wounded here?”

  “There was one man, but they already picked him up.”

  “Why didn’t you mention that?” the Agent asked.

  “I was getting to it,” Sheriff Branson said. He walked forward towards the approaching vehicle. It stopped, and an EMT got out, looking around.

  “Somebody call you?” Sheriff Branson asked.

  “No,” he said. “What happened here?” His head was jerking around in all directions, as if he was looking for somebody.

  “Then why are you here?” Sheriff Branson asked.

  “This is my cousin’s place,” he said. “I was just here yesterday.”

  “That isn’t your cousin hanging on the wall over there, is it?” Deputy Lawrence asked.

  “Oh, shit,” he said, looking scared. “Yeah, looks like it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sheriff Branson said. “What’s your name, son?”

  “Johnny Beckler.”

  “Beckler?” Agent Keith asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Who are you?”

  “Special Agent Simon Keith, FBI.”

  “Oh,” he said, looking more nervous.

  “Are you any relation to Jason Beckler?” the Agent asked.

  “Yes, he was my uncle, but I’m not like him,” Johnny said.

  “Jason Beckler?” Sheriff Branson said. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  “We think so, but nobody ever found a body,” the Agent said.

  “He’s dead, alright,” Johnny said. “Thank God.”

  “How do you know?” Sheriff Branson asked.

  “They found his van,” Johnny said. “Out in the sticks. He never would have left that behind. It had a bunch of expensive computer gear built in.”

  “Okay, you’re right,” Agent Keith said. “I remember now. That was a long time ago. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Did you see any teenage twins around?”

  “There’s a teenage boy out in the barn,” Deputy Lawrence said. “He’s dead, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh, no,” Johnny said, tearing up. “Can I go check?”

  “Of course,” the deputy said. “I’ll take you over there.”

  “Thanks,” he said. They walked to the barn together.

  “Jason Beckler,” Sheriff Branson said. “He caused some problems over here.”

  “Yes, we believe he was using this area as his home base, early in his career. You say you found a torture room?” asked the agent.

  “Yeah.”

  “Where?”

  “In the basement,” Sheriff Branson said. “C’mon, I’ll take you over there.”

  “Great,” the agent said. “Just let me get my men started first. I want them to get fingerprints on everybody here.”

  “Okay, whenever you’re ready,” Sheriff Branson said. The agent walked to the first SUV and said something to the driver. The doors in the back opened, and three men got out. One of them went to the second SUV, and four men came out of there. They dispersed, carrying leather bags with them.

  “That scared the crap out of my boys,” General Hogan said, walking up to Frank. C
harlie was sitting with him, watching the PC screen.

  “Sorry,” Frank said. “Came back fast though. Last time it took 15-20 minutes.”

  “This might help us, then,” General Hogan said.

  “Maybe, but there’s something scary, too,” Charlie said. “We know that they’re paying attention.”

  “Yeah,” General Hogan said. “To make matters worse, we don’t know if the satellite access or the take-down in DC tipped them off. I hope it was the tipoff in DC.”

  “Might have been both,” Frank said.

  “What if they do this again?” General Hogan asked.

  “No worries,” Frank said, smiling. “My program learns. I told you how long it took to re-acquire the icons the first time they tried this. This time was five minutes. Next time will be about thirty seconds. It will get down below a second after that.”

  “You sure about that?” the General asked.

  “Yeah,” Frank said. “The only way they can really escape us is to remove the chips, like we were talking about earlier. They don’t have a quick, practical way to hide themselves.”

  “Good,” General Hogan said. “So now I get to worry about tactical stuff. We’re going into action soon. If you see me pacing around, don’t worry about it.”

  “Hey, look,” Charlie said, pointing to the laptop that was showing the National Park camera system. “They’re driving the tank out the front gate.”

  Frank clicked onto the satellite view. “Yep, I see it. Wonder if they think they’ll be able to bust through the roadblock with that thing.”

  “I’d say that’s likely,” General Hogan said. “Look what’s happening now. The semi-truck is moving. It’s going to try to follow that tank right through the roadblock.”

  “How fast can that tank go?” Charlie asked.

  “Depends on if it’s damaged or not,” General Hogan said. “Most of the M-1 Battle tanks captured by the enemy were from a repair depot. They had various problems.”

  “Yeah, the one we had at Hilda’s park had a messed up track.”

  “I remember General Walker talking about that,” General Hogan said.

  “What if it isn’t damaged?”

  “Published top speed is 45, but if it’s one of the later models, it could go as fast as 60.”

  “Wow,” Charlie said. “Really? Should we warn the roadblock?”

  “No, we should order one of the fighters nearby to take them both out,” General Hogan said. “I’ll go do that now, but it will make it obvious that we’re watching.”

  “I don’t think we have a choice,” Frank said.

  General Hogan walked away and made the call.

  “You think it’s time to get the meeting software loaded?” Charlie asked. “Things are gonna get hot quickly.”

  “Yeah,” Frank said. “I’ll bring up the web meeting. You call the guys, okay?”

  “On it.”

  “We can help too, you know,” Jane said.

  “Yeah,” Jasmine said.

  “Okay, you two call George’s Jeep and Malcolm’s Jeep,” Charlie said. “I’ll call Jeb. We’ll have General Hogan call the Humvee.”

  “Alright,” Jasmine said.

  General Hogan walked back. “The fighter is about five minutes away.”

  “Good,” Frank said. “We’re setting up that web meeting now. Want to call the Humvee?”

  “Of course. I guess it’s time,” he said.

  “Okay, the meeting is up and running,” Frank said. “Everybody can get on now. Watch the chatter though. I’m going back to the satellite view.”

  ***

  Jeb was slowing down. “Something’s going on,” he said. “The Humvee just stopped.” Then his phone rang. He answered it.

  “Jeb?”

  “Yeah, hey, Charlie. What’s up?”

  “Things are coming to a head real quick. We just started the web meeting. You guys need to get on.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “The tank has just left the park, and that semi-truck is following it. We think they will try to rush the roadblock.”

  “Stupid idea. They won’t get far.”

  “General Hogan just called in an air strike, and that’ll blow things wide open. Be ready and get on the meeting.”

  “Got it, thanks.” He slipped his phone back in his pocket and grabbed his blue tooth headphone. “Okay, everybody, time to get on that web meeting. You guys know the codes, right?”

  “What else?” the Sheriff asked.

  “That tank took off out the front gate, and the semi-truck is following it. General Hogan just called in an air strike to take them out. It’s gonna get crazy in a few minutes.”

  There was a loud rumble, and the sound of explosions. A ‘yahoo’ came from the Humvee.

  Jeb got on the meeting. “Jeb here. Who’s on?” He heard dings as each person came on line.

  “Frank here.”

  “Kurt.”

  “Private Jennings.”

  “Charlie.”

  “Jasmine.”

  “Jane.”

  “Private Brown.”

  “George.”

  “Malcolm.”

  “Jerry.”

  “Earl.”

  The names continued. Everybody was on.

  “What now?” Jeb asked.

  “Well, first some good news, everybody,” Frank said. “That tank is toast, and so is the semi-truck. That means the nuke is ruined.”

  “Good,” Jerry said. “Any change to our plans?”

  “Watch out for yourselves, and stay on the target,” General Hogan said. “Use your apps. We may see enemy forces fleeing the area in a hurry.”

  “Not seeing that yet,” Jerry said. “They are moving around though. Looks like somebody tossed water on an ant hill.”

  “Okay, let’s get back on the road,” Private Brown said. “Anybody going to have problems driving with their lights off?”

  “Not here,” Jeb said.

  “Me neither,” George said.

  “I’m doing okay,” Malcolm said.

  “Okay, let’s move out,” Private Brown said.

  The vehicles started moving again, slower now.

  ***

  Back at the clubhouse, General Hogan got a phone call on his secure line. He got a grim look on his face, and then rushed over to Frank and Charlie.

  “We got trouble,” he said.

  “What’s the matter?” Charlie asked.

  “The air force said they just saw several helicopter gunships heading this way, flying low.”

  “As in towards us?” Jane asked.

  “Yeah,” General Hogan said. “They scrambled some fighters, but the choppers will get here before they arrive. We need to move into the basement.”

  “What can they do?”

  “Hit us with mini-guns, maybe small missiles. How strong is that bunker down there?”

  “It’s real strong,” Charlie said, getting up. “Concrete.” He smiled. “Jake just ran a monitor town there, and we have the Wi-Fi there too. Frank, could we move the modem down there?”

  “Hell yeah,” Frank said. “How many people are outside?”

  “Trish, Gabe, Jake, and Dobie,” Hilda said. “We’ll have to help Rosie down, of course.”

  “Okay, everybody, let’s get on this now,” General Hogan said.

  Everybody moved, picking up equipment and carry it down stairs.

  “I’m going to have to unplug this PC,” Frank said. “So I’ll go dark for a moment.” He put his headset on.

  “Everybody, listen up. We’ve just been informed that enemy choppers are on the way here to attack us. We’re going into the bunker. Everything will stay up except for the PC, which means the meeting is going to go down for a few minutes. I’ll fire it up on my laptop before I go down, so you’ll reconnect in about a minute.”

  “Got you, Frank,” Jeb said. “Make sure somebody is looking after my Rosie.”

  “We will, don’t worry,” Charlie said. “We
’re well shielded down there.”

  “What if they take out the internet?” the Sheriff asked.

  “Then you guys will be on your own, so keep your fingers crossed,” General Hogan said. “You’re well staged, and you have your apps, so if you lose us, all you’ll really be losing is the web meeting.”

  “Hey, I just had an idea,” Frank said. “I’ll start the meeting on a machine at work. I have access. That way, even if they knock out our internet, you’ll still be able to talk with each other. I’ll do that now while everybody else is moving stuff downstairs.”

  “Don’t wait too long to get your ass downstairs, Frank,” Jerry said.

  “I won’t.”

  He got to work on the meeting and sent a quick e-mail to Rami just in case.

  People streamed into the clubhouse, heading quickly into the basement with whatever they could carry.

  “Damn, I’m glad we got things set up down there earlier,” Jake said.

  “Seriously,” Frank said. “You might have saved us all, Jake.”

  Charlie and Gabe helped Rosie down the stairs. Soon everybody but Frank was down there. He was still doing setup on his laptop.

  “Frank, get down here!” Jane yelled.

  “In a second,” he said. “There, the meeting is running on a company server!” He unplugged his laptop and stood up with it, heading for the steps. Then he heard it. The low, choppy rumble of helicopters approaching. Suddenly there was a large explosion.

  “There goes the General’s Chinook,” Frank yelled, running for the trap door, now.

  “Frank!” Jane yelled.

  “I’m here,” he said, flying down the steps as fast as his feet would carry him. As he was pulling the heavy trap door down, he heard the .50 cal bullets ripping through the roof of the clubhouse, hitting the concrete floor and sending chips everywhere.

  “Holy shit,” Charlie said.

  “Anybody close that other trap door?” he asked.

  “Yeah, it’s closed,” Gabe said. “Good thing we got a lot of tools down here. It’ll be rough if somebody blocks up both doors.”

  “What tools do we have?”

  “Chainsaws, saws-alls, and a lot of other stuff. Remember that workshop?”

  “They’re strafing us pretty good,” Dobie said. His dogs were gathered around him, looking up at the ceiling as the small impacts picked up. Jane had a crouching Mr. Wonderful in his carrier. Lucy saw Frank and ran over to him as he got his laptop plugged in. He put on his blue tooth headset.