by Robert Boren
“I know,” Anna said. “I got a text from Garrett about twenty minutes ago. The first of the cavalry has made it back home. Our people will come back after they’ve rested enough to go back on duty.”
“I worried more about trip home than stay there,” Ji-Ho said. “Islamists we can see, but UN thugs all over.”
“Garrett said they were moving up north.”
“Yes, Ivan tell me,” Ji-Ho said. “How’s girl?”
“Missing her new parents, but good. She’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Poor thing. I wish Sam and Erica could just take her someplace safe, away from the fighting.”
“No place safe left for them,” Ji-Ho said. “Target on backs. Hard, but better to stay in fight till over.”
“I know. You still think we’re safe here? They might try since they failed at Dodge City.”
“We have cavalry patrols,” Ji-Ho said. “They’ll see thugs if come. We be fine.”
“I hope so,” Anna said.
Ed came down the stairs. “Something going on?”
“No, just relay information from Garrett, but Anna already have.”
“What information?” Ed asked, sitting on a chair at the dining room table.
“I was on way to your room,” Ji-Ho said. “Cavalry starting to arrive back at Dodge City. Our people back here late afternoon.”
“Wish we had enough people and vehicles to escort them,” Ed said.
“Me too,” Anna said.
“Is Garrett coming too?” Ed asked.
Anna smiled. “I told him he’d better. We might end up back at Dodge City again, though. That’s his home.”
Mia came over. “They aren’t dead, are they?”
“No, honey,” Anna said. “They’ve been talking to Ji-Ho. They’re safe, sweetie.”
“You want pancakes?” Ji-Ho asked.
“Yes, please,” she said, smiling at him.
“Come. Uncle Ji-Ho make for you.”
The two walked into the kitchen together.
“She’s going to be unsure of everything for a long time,” Ed said, watching them leave.
“I know,” Anna said. “She’s strong, though. I can tell.”
“Yes, me too,” Ed said. “How are you holding up?”
“I’ll be worried until Garrett gets back, and I agree that coming home on the roads is risky.”
“I’m going to suggest that the seventy-five cowboys in vehicles come with them,” Ed said, “and go back with you and Garrett when you go home.”
“Go home?”
Ed chuckled. “You’ve staked your claim, and he likes it. Gonna deny that? You’ll live in his house with him.”
Anna sighed. “Probably. Does it bother you, since he’s not in the tribe?”
“These people are all in our tribe,” Ed said, “and we’re all in theirs. We’ve bonded. Can’t you feel it?”
“Yes,” Anna said. “I do feel it.”
“Good. Wonder if I can get in on that pancake action?”
Anna laughed. “You’ve always had a sweet tooth. Come on.” They went into the kitchen.
***
Half the people in the service waiting room were asleep, the rest watching the video feed from the Ford dealership, or talking amongst themselves in hushed tones. Mr. White came in.
“Boss, it going down, five minutes. I got to go.”
Ivan snapped himself out of sleep, looking at him. “What?”
“It’s starting in five minutes,” he said. “Wake up team. I go.”
“Oh,” Ivan said, sitting up straight, shoving Jules in the shoulder. People in the room woke up.
“What time is it?” Morgan asked while she stretched.
“Three in the morning,” Robbie said.
“You been sleeping?”
“No, I’ve been watching, mostly,” Robbie said. “Don’t worry, I’m good. Ready for battle.”
“Hopefully we’ll just be watching outside,” Justin said.
“Our women will be going inside, to be on TV,” Sparky said while shaking Dana. “Hope we kill all the stragglers before they go in.”
“No worry there,” Ivan said.
“Should we go to our battle wagons now?” Robbie asked.
“No, we’ll wait until the operation starts,” Ivan said. “We don’t want to tip off the enemy. We can just sit tight and watch.”
“Where’s Tex?” Sparky asked.
“He went to his rig with Karen a few hours ago,” Robbie said.
“I’ll go get them,” Ted said. “Anybody need to load their weapons?”
“All done,” Robbie said.
“Me too,” Justin said.
The rest nodded or said no. Ted was back in a couple minutes with Tex and Karen, both trying to shake off sleep.
“Anything happen yet?” Tex asked.
“Any second now,” Ivan said. Every eye in the room was glued to the TV screen.
“Look, it’s starting,” Morgan whispered, watching two armed men sneak into the cell room, standing by the door, ready to kill whoever came in. Some of the women woke up, and one asked them who they were. A commando said “We’re the good guys. Be quiet.”
***
Mr. White joined Mr. Black in the underground parking area.
“What happening?” he asked.
Mr. Black grinned. “Two commandos took control of cell area. Women protected. We go any time.”
“Two men are enough?”
“We left angle iron above ceiling tile. They barricade door, and its thick metal. They wait until fighting over to open.”
“Who had that idea?” Mr. White asked.
“Kaplan,” Mr. Black said. “He good, boss should promote. Snuck material in shortly before cretins come.”
“Good. We go.”
Mr. Black sent a text message to the men in the service bay, then turned to the men in the parking structure, raising his hand silently and pointing upstairs. The men grabbed their weapons, forming a line at the stairwell. They started up as quietly as they could, the lead person opening the door.
“Hey, who you?” asked a man with a French accent. He was shot by a silenced pistol, falling without making another sound. The commandos flooded into the hallway, checking each door, several men going into one, the snapping sound of silenced weapons going off, a few muffled squeals coming out the door. The door on the end of the hall led to the office area. Commandos rushed in, shooting everybody in sight, then leaping over the counter, killing the screaming men behind it, the rest of the UN Peacekeepers waking now, trying to get to their weapons as more commandos rushed in. One of them got to his weapon and shot two commandos. He scrambled into a door in the back wall of the office. Commandos rushed it, standing on either side as bullets flew through, hitting the outside wall. They waited, then opened the door and rushed in, killing the Peacekeeper and several other men in the room. There was noise from outside. Vehicles starting up, footsteps.
“Men outside,” Mr. Black shouted. “Be ready.”
A team of twenty commandos rushed to the outside door, one of the men pushing it open. Machine gun fire came through, hitting the door, wounding the commando in the arm.
“Call Ivan,” Mr. Black shouted as he raced for the windows on the side of the building with a team. They opened fire, peppering the two UN vans they could see, men trying to flee, being cut down by more gunfire from other nearby windows.
Mr. White took the rest of the team and rushed up the stairs to the roof, opening fire on the Peacekeepers below with M60s and tossing grenades. Then there was the sound of diesel engines approaching.
“Hey, battle wagons!” shouted a commando. The sound of mini gun fire filled the air, several UN vans turning into swiss cheese, hit so hard that nobody survived to climb out. One of the battle wagons started hitting the remaining UN vans with grenades, blowing them up as a handful of UN Peacekeepers fled to the road, picked off by another of the battle wagons, which had parked itself on the main driveway.
&nb
sp; “They handle, let’s go finish inside,” Mr. White shouted. He led his men down the stairs again, rushing into the hallway, were they could hear a fire fight going on, in a long hallway just before the office area. “Must be where barracks were.” Several of the commandos snuck in with the M60s, diving for cover as a couple Peacekeepers fired from a door, held ajar by a box of rations. The commandos fired at the walls with their M60, the bullets smashing through the drywall on either side of the door, men screaming from inside. Another commando rushed to the door and stuck his M60 inside, firing at every corner of the room, then ripping the door all the way open and rushing in, having to dive for cover as the survivors tried to fight him off. Several more commandos rushed in afterward, tossing grenades at the furniture the Peacekeepers were hiding behind, wood and body parts flying all over the room.
“That’s it for this one,” a commando said. “Some next door.” They rushed out into the hallway and kicked in the next door, finding non-combatants huddled in the corner of the room in fear, killing them all.
“Hey, what’d you do that for?” asked one of the commandos.
“Could be Peacekeepers trying to hide, Jackson,” another said. “Kill everyone here. You know this.”
Jackson shrugged and rushed out the door, going down the hallway and kicking in the next door, opening fire on the inhabitants, some of which were peacekeepers, some cooks and mechanics.
It took only about ten more minutes for the commandos to kill the remaining enemy personnel. Mr. Black and Mr. White both came to the counter in the office area, now smeared with blood.
“We call boss?” Mr. Black asked. Mr. White nodded, watching Mr. Black put the phone to his ear.
“Ivan, we finish. Ready for you.”
“Excellent,” Ivan said. “Be right there. The women are okay, right?”
“Yes. Door barricaded. I open before you come in.”
“Barricaded?” Ivan asked.
“I tell when you come,” Mr. Black said. He put his phone away. “Tell them to take down barricade.”
Mr. White nodded and sent the text, then they walked to that hallway with twenty men. There was the sound of an electric drill, and then the clank of metal on the floor. The door opened. Mr. White and Mr. Black entered, their appearance causing one of the women to scream.
“They’re good guys,” a commando said. “We just rescued you. All the UN peacekeepers are dead.”
“Thank you,” said one of the women, a beautiful blonde with dark eyebrows.
“They’ll just come back,” another woman said, slight of figure with short black hair. “We thought we beat them. They hit us when we were resting. Killed all our men and took every woman under forty.”
“We have battle wagons outside, and we leave soon,” Mr. Black said. “Ivan doing TV show first, then we split.”
“Ivan the Butcher is with you guys?” the blonde asked, her face lighting up. “I love that guy.”
“What TV show?” the black-haired woman asked.
“We have women from previous captivity in Torrance,” Mr. White said. “They agreed to tell story. Already been filming in here.”
“Can we join in if we want to?” the blonde asked.
“Ask boss,” Mr. White said. “He comes soon.”
“I’m here,” Ivan said, walking in with Ben Dover, Tex, Karen, and several others. “Hello, all. I’m Ivan. Do any of you need medical attention?”
The women were all up now, gathered around, some saying thank you quietly, most looking down, embarrassed and shell-shocked.
“This guy said you’re doing a TV show from here,” the blonde said. “With other women who were held captive. Can we join? I’ve got a story.”
“Yes, of course, but take a few minutes to think it through,” Ivan said. “Your face will be on TV. Everybody you know will see. Be sure you want to do it.”
The black-haired women looked at Karen, who was crying now. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
Karen looked at her through tears and nodded yes. The black-haired woman rushed over and they embraced, both crying, Tex looking on, not sure what to do.
“Where should we shoot the show, boss?” Mr. Black asked.
“In the room with the mattresses,” Ivan said. “We’ll use footage from the mounted cameras to show the audience around the facility. We edit after we leave.”
“I think we’d better get busy,” Tex said. “We don’t want to fight off a bunch of these cretins on the way out of here.”
“Yes,” Jules said, coming in. “We ready. Come.”
Shelly stepped in, eyeing the women, her eyes wet with tears.
“You’re another one, aren’t you?” the black-haired woman said, rushing over to her with the blonde. “How many are with you?”
“There were thirteen of us,” Shelly said. “We lost five.”
“Lost?” the blonde asked.
“We joined Ivan’s forces,” Karen said. “We’ve been fighting. Four of us died in action.”
“What about the other one?” the blonde asked.
“Suicide,” Karen said, barely able to get the words out before she started crying again.
“Oh, Geez,” the black-haired girl said. “I’m Kelly.”
Karen smiled. “I’m Karen, and this is Shelly. The others are outside.”
“I’m Samantha,” the blonde said.
“We ready,” Jules said. “Everybody who be on camera follow me.”
Shelly nodded, rushing to Jules, putting her arm around his waist as they walked.
“She’s with him?” Kelly asked.
Karen nodded yes. “I’m with Tex. The tall one over there.”
“Battle romance, huh?” Samantha asked. “Any men left?”
Karen looked at her and smiled.
Mr. White and Mr. Black brought in two men with high-quality cameras and microphones. Robbie and Justin brought chairs in, set up in a semi-circle in front of the mattresses on the floor.
“This enough?” Robbie asked. “Eight, right?”
“There’s a few who want to join in from this group,” Tex said.
“How many?” Robbie asked.
Four women raised their hands, including Kelly and Samantha.
“I don’t want to talk, but can I stand behind the ones who do?” asked another woman, with longer black hair and pale skin. “I’m Kit.”
“Of course, anybody who wants to be in the picture can, but no pressure,” Ivan said.
“Okay, four more,” Justin said. He and Robbie left the room.
“This one still has a little blood on it,” Kit said, pointing. She picked up a pillow from one of the mattresses and used it to wipe the mess off.
The women who were going to talk took seats, the others getting behind. Ivan changed into his fedora and pinstriped suit. He stood in front of the semi-circle of chairs, Ben Dover checking his tie.
“Looking good, boss,” Ben said.
“Damn straight, partner,” Tex said.
“Where’s Ted and the others?” Morgan asked from one of the chairs.
“Manning the battle wagons,” Robbie said. “I’ve got to go back out there too.”
“Yeah, I’ll be out there with you in a moment,” Tex said. Justin nodded in agreement.
“Are you going out there too, Jules?” Shelly asked.
“Sparky handle,” he said. “I’ll stay to assist Ivan.”
“Good,” she said. “It makes me stronger when I can see you.”
“We got men on roof with M60s, too,” Mr. White said. “Proceed, then let’s blow joint.”
“Lights, camera, action,” Ivan said.
The flood lights came on, Ivan looking down, the top of his fedora hiding his face. He slowly looked up at the camera.
“Hello, fellow patriots,” he began. “Thought I was dead, didn’t you? Don’t believe the media. We’re coming to you from the new UN base. It was being readied for a group of high-ranking UN criminals. As you can see here, they won’t be
coming.”
Ivan paused, so footage of the dead UN officials from the winery in the south could be edited in.
“This facility is at the abandoned auto mall in Elk Grove… the Ford Dealership, to be exact. This facility was to be used for training and staging UN personnel, who are on their way here in vast numbers, thanks to the people now running this great state. And who are these people?”
Another pause for editing.
“The man on the left is Daan Mertins. He’s an operative of the EU and the Globalists who are having their way with this country. The man on the right is Saladin, leader of the Islamist thugs who have been killing our people wholesale, in California and many other places.”
Another pause.
“As you can see behind me, we are in the room where UN dignitaries would’ve been entertained by kidnapped women. This is not the first time the UN and the Islamists have used our women for their own pleasure. We want it to be the last. The women seated behind me have all been held captive and abused by the enemy. They wish to tell you their stories. The women standing behind are other women who have just been rescued from this facility. Morgan, this was your idea. Would you like to go first?”
Morgan nodded, looking self-conscious, and stood, walking next to Ivan, who patted her on the back. “Thank you for this,” he whispered.
She nodded as he left the screen.
“I was living with my boyfriend in Redondo Beach, California. We were visited by two UN Peacekeepers, who were questioning all the residents in the area who’s passage through check-points raised questions. My boyfriend was held at gunpoint by one UN thug while I was forced to leave with the other. I was taken to the Torrance police station, which had been converted to a headquarters like this one, thrown into a cell like the one here with sixteen other women. We were forced to serve the UN Peacekeepers and their allies, being raped more than once every day. Do not live under the illusion that the UN Peacekeepers are here to help. They are here to subjugate the population, so the globalists can take over. I was raped approximately thirty times. I’m still trying to recover, but I never will completely. If you have missing daughters, wives, sisters, or friends, there’s a good chance they are going through this hell. Resist this enemy. Fight them. Kill them. They are evil. Thank you.”