by A. American
The man rocked back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and began to speak. “I’m Captain Taylor with the Lake County Sheriff’s Department.” He said this as though Thad should know who he was. Getting no response, the man added, “And you are?”
Thad sat there for a minute. “You can call me Thad.”
Sitting back up and resting his elbows on the table, the man cupped his hands together beside his head, taking an exaggerated look at the items on the table. He looked up at Thad and spread his hands apart. “So, you wanna tell me where you got this stuff?”
Lying on the table was the M4 and the tac vest he’d taken from the security man, the DHS patch still on the front of it. Thad looked at it for a minute then asked, “What do you want to know?”
“Well, help me out here: where did you get a DHS rifle and tactical gear from? Are you a member of the DHS?”
“No, I’m not.”
Captain Taylor sat there expecting more, but Thad didn’t say anything else. The captain spread his arms, raised his eyebrows and said, “And?”
“And I took it off the man who killed my wife and son.”
Captain Taylor sat up at that. “The man who killed your wife and son? The DHS killed your wife and son?”
“Yes.”
“And you know this for certain? You were there when they did this and they didn’t kill you?”
“No, I wasn’t there when they did it, but they told me they did.”
“They? There were two of them, two DHS men?”
“No, the other was a mailman.”
Captain Taylor sat back, his eyes wide. He interlocked his fingers and put his hands on his head. “A mailman?”
Thad nodded.
“A mailman and a DHS agent killed your family?”
Thad nodded again.
Captain Taylor raised his hands over his head. “You gotta know this sounds a little crazy, Thad.” The Captain let out a little laugh. “That a mailman and DHS agent killed your family.” He dropped his hands into his lap and rocked the front legs of this chair off the ground. “Where’re this mailman and DHS agent now?”
Thad turned his head to the side a little, looking up, making a show of thinking it over. “I would think they’s pig shit.”
The Captain turned his head and leaned toward Thad a little. “Come again?”
“By now they’re pig shit.”
The Captain looked at him. “Pig shit. They’re pig shit now?” He paused for a moment, looking down his nose at Thad. “You, you fed ’em to the pigs. You fed a mailman and a DHS agent to the pigs,” he said, not a question but a statement.
“Well, the DHS soldier definitely is,” Thad replied slowly. “The mailman . . . well, I don’t know whether the pigs or the fire got to him first.”
“Thad, would you humor me for a minute? Would you just tell me exactly what happened?”
Thad sat there, his hands still bound, and told the story exactly as it happened. He didn’t leave anything out. When he got to the part of dealing with the two men, the captain had a look of horror on his face.
Chapter 24
Mike and Sarge stayed in their positions and watched as the three men slowly approached the clearing. There was enough light now that they could see the men without the aid of the NVGs. As they approached, the men stopped and took a knee. After a moment, the point man rose and stepped out. When he was about four feet out and twenty from Sarge, Sarge called out in a low voice, “Stump Knocker.” The man froze and the ones behind him fell prone to the ground. The point man was scanning the area, looking for the source of the voice. After a moment, he answered, “Swamp Rat?”
Sarge rose up from under the palms. The point man immediately saw him and raised a hand, and Sarge responded likewise. The other two men in the element came into the clearing and joined them. Mike stayed in his position waiting for Sarge to signal him to come out. Two of the men moved to the edge of the clearing, and Mike watched as the man who had passed through the clearing earlier returned to the edge of it. With a security perimeter set up, the man with Sarge motioned for him to take a knee and did likewise.
“First Sergeant Mitchell?” the man asked.
“Correct.”
“We called you guys out because they were about to bring the world down on you. The brass wants to bring you guys in. We’re preparing to make some moves and will need all the help we can get.”
“We left some welcoming gifts for them, heard one of them go off. What the hell is going on?” Sarge asked.
“From what the DOD has been able to determine, the solar flare was used as cover for an EMP strike. We’re not sure who did it, but the intel geeks are working on it and developing a theory.”
“What are your plans?”
“We’re not going into that right now. We just came to bring you guys out.”
Sarge sat for a minute weighing his options, though this was really his only one.
“What’s our exfil route?”
“Our intended landing zone is a regional airport in Steinhatchee.”
“Steinhatchee, that’s over twenty miles away,” Sarge snorted.
“I know, but we didn’t want to bring any assets in too close to the shitstorm you guys started.”
Sarge smiled at him, the camo paint on his face cracking when he did. “Just following orders.”
Mike rose from his position, causing the men on the perimeter to snap toward him with their weapons raised. Sarge said, “He’s with me.” The men looked over and lowered their weapons, though they kept them shouldered.
Mike ran up to Sarge’s side. “We got trouble.”
“What’s up?”
“Ted’s got movement to the west, about two hundred yards away. We need to get back to them.”
The other man asked, “How many?”
“He’s not sure. Fifteen to twenty.”
“We’ll never get to them in time. They could try and get out, take the truck and run,” Sarge said, looking at Mike, who was listening to Ted on the ham handheld. Mike shook his head.
“Stand by,” the other man said and began talking into a radio headset he was wearing.
“Clementine, Stump Knocker, how copy?”
“Stump Knocker, Clementine, loud and clear.”
“Clementine, we have foot-mobile hostiles closing in on Dallas, requesting air support.”
“Stump Knocker, wait one.”
The three men sat in silence waiting for a reply.
The voice in the headset crackled, “Stump Knocker, Draco Three-One is inbound, coordinate on Tac 7, out.”
The man reached back and pulled the radio from its pouch on his back and changed the frequency. Keying the mic, he called, “Stump Knocker, Draco Three-One.”
“Draco Three-One, Stump Knocker.”
“We have estimated fifteen to twenty foot-mobile hostiles closing in on Dallas, can you verify?”
“Stump Knocker, Draco Three-One will be feet dry in two mics and on station at Dallas in five, how copy?”
“Roger that, Draco Three-One.”
The man looked at Sarge. “We’ll have an A-10 over them in five minutes. He was loitering just offshore and is inbound now. Tell your guys to sit tight.”
Mike relayed the info to Ted and after another brief pause the headset the other man was wearing crackled to life. “Stump Knocker, Stump Knocker, Draco Three-One.”
“Go for Stump Knocker.”
“Stump Knocker, I count two-two, repeat twenty-two, armed hostiles closing on Dallas from the southwest. There are vehicles on a dirt road about two clicks out.”
“Roger that, Draco, wait one.”
“Tell your guys to get flat. How close are they now?”
Mike called Ted on the radio and asked, then looked at the man and said, “One hundred fifty a
nd closing.”
The man shook his head. “They’re too close for heavy ordnance; he’ll have to use his guns.”
Into the mic, he said, “Draco, you’re cleared, guns hot, danger close; I repeat, you’re cleared, guns hot, danger close, make your run north to south.”
“Roger that, Stump Knocker, inbound guns hot, danger close from the north.”
After a couple of minutes the men in the little clearing could hear the whine as the A-10 lined up for its run; it was passing right over their heads as it started.
Ted and Doc were under the truck in the barn. They were sweating bullets and they just knew they were about to either be killed or captured. They had been told to get down, that close air support was inbound, but they could hardly believe it and were waiting for what came next. After what seemed like an eternity, the building shook and dust fell from the joists. They could hear fragments hitting the tin building, peppering the side, zipping through the thin metal.
Then came the sound: it was like someone was tearing a hole in the fabric of time. Then came the noise from the plane as it pulled out of its dive and climbed.
In the clearing, the men sat motionless as the growl reached them, lower, but just as intense.
“Stump Knocker, Draco Three-One. The hostiles that are left are fleeing west.”
“Roger that, Draco, stand by,” the soldier replied. He told Mike to call the guys and tell them to get moving, to take the truck and head out to the east. Mike called them and Doc was in the driver’s seat and starting the truck before Ted even got out from under it. Outside, they could hear moans, voices pleading for help. Ted ran over and threw the door open and Doc gunned the old truck through it. Ted jumped into the passenger side as it came out and Doc swung the truck around and headed to the north.
Mike reported their guys were clear of the area and the other man called Draco Three-One and told him that the friendlies were out of the area and that he was clear to engage any target of opportunity. While Mike was talking to Ted on the radio, they could hear the sound of the A-10 working the target over. Sarge shook his head. “I feel for those poor bastards,” he said as he looked up at the operator.
“Where are they?” Sarge asked Mike.
Mike said, “They’re on their way, on that road over there.” He pointed to the east. The sound of the Warthog was still in the air, the big thirty-millimeter gun firing in short bursts, the high-pitched whine of the engines as the pilot dove and pulled out.
Sarge looked at the other man. “Let’s—” And he paused for a minute. “What the hell is your name?”
“Captain Lewis.”
“Well, Captain Lewis, when they get here let’s use the truck to get to Steinhatchee.”
“I’m going to get us a closer LZ now; hang on a sec.” The captain tuned his radio. “Stump Knocker, Raven Two-Two; Stump Knocker, Raven Two-Two.”
Before Raven could reply, another voice came over the radio. “Stump Knocker, Draco Three-One. I’ve got eyes on two inbound helos. I’m bingo fuel and buggin’ out.”
Mike looked at Sarge, then at Captain Lewis. “What the fuck are we going to do now?”
Captain Lewis pressed his headset against an ear and held up a finger, listening. “Raven Two-Two, Stump Knocker.”
“Raven we’ve got inbound hostile helos, requesting immediate extraction at LZ Tiger.”
“Roger that, Stump Knocker. Raven’s inbound to Tiger, Bronco Three is providing cover. Do you need them to assist with the helos?”
“Roger that, if they’re available.”
“Stump Knocker, Bronco Three.” Yet another came over the radio.
“Go for Stump Knocker, Bronco Three.”
“We’re inbound, ten mics out.”
Mike called Ted and told him there were two birds inbound and to hurry the hell up. Ted asked where they were; he needed an exact location. Mike told him they would move out to the road and to just keep coming.
“Tell him to step on it, Mikey. They need to get here before those damn helos do,” Sarge said.
“Guys, we’ve got a pair of Apaches coming in to take care of ’em. If they don’t bug out, he’ll blow ’em out of the sky,” Captain Lewis said.
Sarge looked over at him. “What don’t you guys have? Do we have the entire army on our side?” Sarge, Mike, Captain Lewis and the other three men with him started to move to the east toward the road, Mike looked over at the Captain and asked, “Hey, where’s your other man?”
Captain Lewis looked back at Mike and grinned. “Don’t worry, he’s around.” To Sarge he said, “No, not yet, but we’re working on it. We have our assets at Camp Riley that we are using. There is an assault happening right now on the DHS side of the base, and we’re trying to consolidate the entire facility.”
Captain Lewis went on to explain that most of the air assets at their disposal had been airborne when the assault started. Fixed wing aircraft were loitering in a couple of areas, rotary wing assets were either assisting with the assault or helping with the recovery of Sarge and his crew. Raven Two-Two was the Black Hawk coming in to pick them up, Bronco Three was the lead in a two-ship sortie and Bronco Four was his wingman.
As they reached the road they heard the truck. Mike got on the radio and told Ted to keep coming, that he could hear him. It wasn’t long before they could see the truck bouncing down the road. Once it was close, Mike stepped out in the road and waved at Ted. The truck skidded to a stop in the road. Doc was white knuckling the wheel, and his head was twisted out the window looking up for the two helos.
With seven men needing to get in the back of the truck, some of the gear had to go. Captain Lewis grabbed a Pelican case and went to throw it to the side of the road, but Sarge grabbed him by the wrist. “Let me sort out what we dump,” and took the case from him and put it back into the bed of the truck. Sarge went through the bed, dumping the nonessential stuff.
As they were all climbing in, the first of the two helos roared overhead. Mike started to beat on the roof of the truck. “Go, go, go!”
Doc slammed the truck in gear and floored it, shouting, “Shit!”
The ship arced up and to the right. They all could see the door gunner sitting with one foot out on the skid, looking back at them. Captain Lewis got his radio. “Bronco Three, Bronco Three, we’ve got a hostile helo overhead, we need you here ASAP!”
“Roger that, Stump Knocker, be there in three mics.”
Doc had the pedal to the floor and it was all the guys in the back could do to hang on when they hit one of the many, many bumps that threatened to launch them out of the bed. Sarge was screaming at Doc, but either he couldn’t hear him, or more likely, he just didn’t give a shit.
As the ship passed, the emblem of the Department of Homeland Security was clearly visible. The pilot kicked the tail around and lined up on the truck. They were stuck on the dirt road, which was straight as an arrow and lined with trees on either side: they were a sitting duck. Captain Lewis was looking over the cab of the truck as the nose of the bird dipped and started toward them. All of the guys were looking at the ship wide-eyed, each of them waiting for the gunner to open up. Captain Lewis’s headset crackled, “Stump Knocker, Bronco Three.”
“Bronco Three, you need to hurry the fuck up!”
“Stump Knocker, are we weapons free?”
The gunner in the DHS ship opened up, the rounds hitting the road in front of the truck. Captain Lewis keyed his mic and screamed into it, “Yes, yes, weapons free, you’re weapons free, bring the fucking heat!”
• • •
I looked back at the people standing in the yard. The man looked up and said, “Why didn’t you do anything?”
I just turned and walked away. Back at the house, Jeff was still outside at his bike. He looked up as I walked over and said, “Where you been?”
I told him about the little incid
ent and he said he had heard the yelling but didn’t know where it was and since he wasn’t from around here he wasn’t about to go walking around. He thanked me for letting him stay the night. When he did, I told him to hold off on that as I had a condition.
He looked up. “Yeah, what’s that?”
I said, “Let me keep your weapons.”
He stood there for a minute thinking about it, propped his elbow up on his chest and rubbed his chin. “You know, ordinarily there is no way in hell I would consider that, but I know you’re thinking of your wife and kids.” He paused for a moment. “And to show you that I’m not a threat, I’ll agree, but I’m keeping the key to my bike.” He smiled.
“I appreciate you understanding, and I wouldn’t dream of taking the key from you. Hey, tomorrow can you help me with something?”
As he pulled his pack off the back of the bike he said, “Sure, what is it?”
I told him about the little package Sarge had sent home with me and tried to explain what it was for. He knew exactly what I was talking about and said he could certainly help out. Jeff reached into one of the saddlebags and pulled out the iPad. I shook my head when he did. “You know what you’re starting with that, don’t you?”
He looked up with a grin. “Let ’em have some fun. They’re teenage girls and probably could use the distraction. Hell, you think I haven’t been playing Angry Birds? It gets lonely on the road.”
I agreed he was more right than he knew and we headed into the house. Mel was sitting on the end of the sofa closest to the fireplace. She said, “We need wood.”
I stopped in the door and looked at Jeff. He just shrugged, but I wasn’t about to let him off that easy. I said, “Uh, it’s your job to keep the fire going tonight, remember?”
He looked like I had let the air out of his balloon. “Aww, come on,” he pleaded in mock protest. I waved him into the house and called the girls. Little Bit came right out. In the manner of typical teenagers, Lee Ann and Taylor finally came out and flopped onto the sofa, Taylor landing on her mom’s feet, and looked up. I looked at Jeff with a little nod and he unzipped the iPad case. Their faces immediately lit up.