by Victor Zugg
“We don’t mount a frontal assault on the building,” Sam said. “That would get us all killed.”
“What do you have in mind?” Bill asked.
“The rest of us take up a position in the woods behind the building,” Sam said. “During the night, we reconnoiter and gather as much intel as possible. The volunteers, including all the Marysville officers in uniform, join us as soon as the drivers can unload and get back.”
“And then?” Martinez asked.
Sam shrugged his shoulders. “And then we wait until someone opens that rear door for a smoke. We enter the building while it’s still dark through that door. At first light, as soon as that cargo door on the front goes up, some of us out front start firing.”
“That will bring their firepower to that side of the building,” Bill said.
“And those of us on the inside will advance from their rear,” Tiff said. “I like it.”
“I like it, too,” Bill said.
“If all goes according to plan, we’ll have control of the building within a few minutes,” Sam said.
“Nothing ever goes according to plan,” Hank said.
Bill turned to face the group. “We’ll adapt. If we pass up this opportunity, the warehouse will be empty.”
“After we take the building, then what?” Martinez asked.
“The Hummer was adapted with a standard hitch and ball, and can pull those twenty-foot trailers at the truck wash,” Sam said. “We ferry two or three to the loading bay. As each trailer is filled, we use the Hummer to take it to Marysville, and then back. After the first round to Marysville, the Hummer will be able to drop off and pick up for the return trip. We keep that up as long as possible.”
“We can use the pickups, too,” Wanda said.
“We’ll need a team in town to unload the trailers,” Lance said.
Martinez rubbed his neck. “How many gunmen do you estimate were in the warehouse when you were there?”
“Five,” Sam said. “But you can count on more, probably many more. All twenty-one had the potential to be armed. And there might be more than twenty-one.”
Hank looked up from the ground. “Those guys were taking the food someplace, probably some place with more armed men.”
“We should be ready for the two trucks and the ten men to either be there, or to arrive after we start our assault,” Sam said. “But beyond that, they have no way to communicate with their base.”
“Someone will show up at some point if the trucks don’t return to base as expected,” Hank said.
Bill leaned over to Hank. “Probably one or two people. We’ll be ready. And that’s if they have other vehicles.”
“There were the three guys in the Chevy sedan when we first came up to this building,” Hank said.
Bill stepped forward. “Okay, they have at least one extra vehicle. Chances are they will come to check before we can finish. If so, we deal with it.”
Sam motioned for everyone’s attention. “We can’t eliminate all the risks. Our lives will be full of risk for the foreseeable future. We have an opportunity to prolong that future. I think we have to try.”
Martinez looked up. “I agree with that. Okay, sounds like a workable plan. But I reserve the right to pull the plug at the first sign of things turning to shit. I don’t want to end up with a bunch of my citizens and officers killed.”
Sam looked at each of the seven faces. “Anyone who doesn’t want to participate can remain in town and help unload. But we need to know now.”
Everyone looked at each other.
Tiff stepped forward. “I’m in.”
“Me, too,” Bill said.
Lance and Wanda looked at each other and then both stepped forward.
Juan stepped forward.
Martinez pointed at Juan. “No way, you’re staying in town. You can help with the unloading.”
Hank hesitated, but finally stepped forward.
Sam nodded and then motioned to Martinez. “Three of us drive the trucks back, unload what we have here, get some volunteers, and arrange for an unload team. The rest of us will stay to reconnoiter.”
Martinez looked around at the group. “Okay, Juan and I will drive the two pickups.”
Sam lifted his chin toward Tiff. “Do you mind driving the Hummer back? And swing by and pick up Chet.”
Tiff started moving toward the Hummer. “Will do.”
“When you return, if it’s dark, keep it quiet, headlights off, and park in the wash bay like before.”
“Someone will be at the spot in the woods to meet the volunteers,” Sam said.
Martinez and Juan jumped in their respective trucks, engines started, and the three vehicles pulled out.
Sam looked to the sky and then turned toward Hank, Bill, Lance, and Wanda. “We have a couple of hours before dusk to cross over the interstate, come in from the west, and get settled.”
Everyone nodded and fell in behind Sam as he marched off.
CHAPTER 5
“How do you want to handle this?” Lance asked Sam, as they knelt in the brush just inside the tree line behind the large distribution center building. “Should some of us try to go in before the others return?”
In the last vestiges of light, Sam could barely make out the details of Lance’s face. Sam thought about the question and then thought about each of the people in this tiny group. Lance and Wanda seemed capable enough, but Sam doubted they had been in many firefights. Probably none. The same was true of Hank. He had seen combat, but only in the skies above the battlefields. There’s no telling how he would react in a face-to-face situation. Bill, on the other hand, likely had combat experience. He was in the army during Iraq and Afghanistan. He certainly acted willing and able, but there was no telling how he would react with bullets flying. Plenty of guys came back from combat as basket cases. Hopefully, Bill wasn’t one of them. Sam then thought about himself. As an OSI criminal investigator he had gone on patrols in combat areas, but had seen little action. He was there mainly to interrogate prisoners and collect intel. There was one instance when his patrol came under fire. Sam remembered being scared shitless, but somehow found the courage to fight back, do what was needed, and protect the man on his left and right. Prior to that, as a combat controller, the idea was to keep from being detected in the combat zone while he helped set up landing or drop zones. He had exchanged gunfire only twice in that capacity, but they were short, as he and his small team made hasty retreats. Heck, he had seen more combat and up close fighting on his way up from Florida a few days earlier than he did during his entire time in the air force. Nonetheless, he knew his capabilities when the chips were down. And he estimated he could probably depend on Bill, but, of the four people squatting around him, that was about it. The others were untested. Entering a den of thugs with only two known capable combatants, and three people that might end up as liabilities, was not smart.
“We wait until the others return,” Sam said. “In the meantime, we collect as much info as possible.”
Bill moved closer to Sam. “I think two of us should take up a position to watch the front.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Sam said. He looked at Lance and Wanda. “Volunteers?”
Lance and Wanda glanced at each other and then back to Sam. “We’ll do it,” Lance said.
“One of you can report back every hour or so with any movement you see,” Sam said. “Be sure to get a body count, vehicles, and type of weapons, if possible. That might be difficult in the dark, but do the best you can. Most importantly, don’t be seen. Just follow the tree line around to the front.”
“We’re on it,” Lance said, as he and Wanda rose to a crouch, gently stepped off to the west, and disappeared in the dark.
“What about us?” Hank asked.
At that very moment, the pedestrian door on the rear of the building nearest their position swung open and two men, both laughing, stepped out. With the door open Sam could see dull flickering light inside the building. Candles, m
aybe a gas lantern.
A flame appeared in front of one of their faces as he lit a cigarette. Both men were young, maybe middle twenties, and neither carried a weapon or wore tactical gear.
“Don’t get lost over there,” the man with the cigarette said, as the other walked away from the door a few feet.
At only thirty feet away, Sam heard a zipper and then the sound of the man urinating on the service road pavement.
“You could have gone in the woods a few feet,” the cigarette man said.
“No way,” the other man said. “Snakes.” After a few beats, the man zipped up, returned to the open door, and stood by the man with the cigarette.
Sam could just make out their images silhouetted against the flickering light from inside the building. They peered into the dark woods. Unknown to them, they stared directly at Sam.
Sam didn’t move a muscle. The least little movement, a twig snapping or leaves crunching, would surely give his position away and the plan to take the warehouse would end with a whimper. Sam only hoped Hank and Bill were being as careful and that Lance or Wanda wouldn’t come walking back.
“Frank was supposed to come in from Kingston an hour ago,” the cigarette man said, as he exhaled smoke.
“He won’t be coming in tonight,” the other man said. “No reason. Can’t see much and can’t load in the dark.”
“Yeah, I guess,” the cigarette man said. “I’m getting tired of sleeping on the floor in this place. Frank should spend a couple of nights here.”
The other man turned toward the doorway. “He’ll be here in the morning. A few more days and we’ll have what we need.”
The cigarette man flicked the still glowing butt to the pavement as he turned to the doorway. “The sooner the better.”
The door slammed shut. Darkness and quiet returned to Sam’s world.
“They’re out of Kingston,” Hank whispered. “Ten miles west.”
“Sounds like it,” Sam said.
Bill scooted closer. “At least we know there’s stuff in there worth having.”
“Yeah,” Sam said. He glanced around. “How long have our guys been gone?”
“Three—three and a half hours or so,” Bill said. “They could be back anytime.”
“Martinez will probably take some time to get organized,” Sam said. “And maybe eat.”
Hank spun around and sat, leaning his back against the tree next to Sam. “Until then we just wait.”
Sam pulled a bottle of water from his leg pocket, unscrewed the cap, and took a long drink. “Drink some water,” he said.
Hank and Bill likewise took a drink from bottles they each carried.
“We should have brought one of those boxes of cereal,” Hank said.
Bill shuffled around to get comfortable. “But we didn’t.”
Sam rubbed his entire face with one hand and then pinched the bridge of his nose, between his eyes. Loading the three trucks and with nothing to eat since the little at breakfast, Sam was beginning to feel the edge of exhaustion creeping up. This could end up being a very long night. He wasn’t alone though; everyone was tired. And tired people make mistakes. He wondered if his plan was too much. He dreaded the prospect of losing someone because of something he missed, or even to just plain dumb luck. He turned around and sat with his back against Hank’s tree and rested his head against the trunk. His mind was just beginning to relax when he heard a noise.
Bushes rustled, and a twig snapped in the woods to the west. Sam cocked his head in that direction. It wouldn’t be Tiff and the others returning, they would be coming from the east. Probably Lance or Wanda with a report.
Sam could just barely make out the edges of a dark blob, about twenty-five yards away, through the trees. Could be a person hunched over; the top of the blob was only about four feet high. Sam watched the blob make slow deliberate motions as though a man, or woman, was trying to find his way in the dark. Sam went back to his original thought. Must be Lance or Wanda. But why was the blob mostly stationary, just looking around, not moving forward?
Sam tapped Hank lightly on the shoulder and whispered for him to remain quiet. Sam pointed in the direction of the blob and then saw Hank turn his head to follow where Sam was pointing.
The blob moved. Another twig snapped.
Sam heard movement to his immediate right and jerked his head around to see Bill rising to a low crouch, just barely perceptible in the almost pitch dark. He had heard the noise as well.
At that moment, Sam heard several men yelling and then the boom of a gunshot coming from the front of the distribution center building.
The blob went completely still and then suddenly bounded off deeper into the woods, crashing through brush and limbs. Sam saw a dull flash of white and realized that he had been watching a deer.
The yelling from the front of the building continued. There were two more blasts of gunfire.
Sam, Hank, and Bill jumped to their feet and took cover behind their respective trees.
Sam heard foot falls and heavy breathing coming toward them from down the service road and the west rear corner of the building. At that moment, the rear pedestrian door flew open and two men rushed out. They raised rifles to their shoulders and began moving west down the service road, apparently to head off the runners.
Sam suddenly realized the most likely scenario. Lance and Wanda had been seen and were trying to get away.
The two men—partially crouched; rifles shouldered—kept moving forward. One yelled for the runners to stop.
The two runners made a sharp turn to their left and galloped into the darkness of the thick brush and trees. Sam heard the sounds of two people crashing through the foliage.
More foot falls, from several men, rounded the west corner. One of the two men in front of Sam stopped, swung his rifle to the right, and fired. The blast was deafening. Fire leaped from the end of the barrel and momentarily lit up the two men. Both wore dark tactical gear, just like the five men Sam, Tiff, and Martinez saw earlier in the day.
“Don’t shoot, you idiot,” the other man said, “you might hit our guys.”
The shooter lowered his barrel, and they both continued, well past Sam’s position, to where the two runners had entered the woods.
The people approaching from the west—three men as it turned out—joined the other two at the edge of the woods.
“Who do you think they were?” one of the men asked.
“Don’t know,” another man replied. “One was a woman. Possibly those two from earlier today.”
“They said they had friends,” the first man said.
“No, they said they represented some hungry people,” the second man said. “That could mean anything, or nothing.”
“We’ll never catch them in the dark,” a third man said.
One of the men turned and walked to the pedestrian door, followed by the other four. “No one comes out this door. Keep it locked.”
The group stepped through the doorway. The door slammed shut.
Sam heard the click of a deadbolt.
“So much for your plan,” Bill whispered.
“Yeah,” Sam replied. “It appears we need to make an adjustment.”
***
Tiff reached down and turned off the Hummer’s blackout lights as they approached the Watt Road turnoff from Interstate 40. The streams of light from the narrow beams pointed at the ground went out. The sudden lack of light made it that much more difficult for Tiff to see the road. After a few seconds she gained some night vision and was able to see the lane lines with the help of a half moon.
“That sounded like gunfire,” Chet said from the front passenger seat.
“I only heard a few shots,” Martinez said from the back seat. “Apparently, they stopped firing.”
“Don’t know if that’s good or bad,” Chet asked.
Tiff glanced in the driver’s mirror and saw the two pickups take the exit behind the Hummer. She led the way to the truck wash, pulled into the sam
e empty bay as before, and clicked off the engine. She grabbed her rifle and hopped out of the seat.
Martinez exited on her side and disappeared into the pitch dark as he walked back to the pickups.
Chet, carrying his rifle, joined Tiff. “What do you think the gunfire means?”
“Not sure,” she said. “But I’ll bet it puts a dent in the plan.”
“I wish we had a little more experience with our little cadre, here,” Chet said. “Two officers and four additional men, none of whom have military experience.”
“It will have to do,” Tiff said.
Martinez and his six additional men joined Tiff and Chet. “Now what?”
Tiff turned to address everyone. “We were supposed to join Sam in the woods behind the building. Until we know more, the gunfire we heard doesn’t change that.”
“We should head out then,” Martinez said.
Tiff led the way as she carefully picked her steps along the same route they had taken before. When they entered the trees, the available light dropped to near zero. Tiff stopped often to peer through the canopy at the stars above in order to maintain a westerly heading. Every time she stopped, she took the opportunity to listen. And almost every time she heard someone bump into Chet directly behind her. She knew Chet’s patience was short and hoped he could hold it together. She could imagine what he was saying under his breath at having to work with inexperienced people. Going into combat with the untested and unskilled could get you killed. Still, they needed the firepower.
Tiff continued her trek as she weaved around dense foliage, over hills, and through gullies. Finally, through the trees to her left, she was just able to make out the dim edge of the distribution center building against the night sky and knew she was getting close to where Sam was supposed to be.
Tiff slowed her pace even more, stopping every few feet to look and listen. She had made her way fifty yards or so along the back of the building when she heard movement to her right. She stopped and crouched. She glanced back and saw that Chet had done the same, but everyone else was still standing. She heard Sam’s unmistakable psst and then the sound of people making their way through the brush toward her, presumably Sam and the others.