Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
American Survival
by
Bernard Lee DeLeo
*****
PUBLISHED BY:
Bernard Lee DeLeo
AND
RJ Parker Publishing, Inc
ISBN-13: 978-1500195793
ISBN-10: 1500195790
American Survival
Copyright © 2014 by Bernard Lee DeLeo
California, USA
*****
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. Please respect the author’s work. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real life persons, events, or places is purely coincidental.
*****
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.
Chapter 1
The Mountains
The pair huddled behind the granite outcropping, quietly watching the line of trucks stream by below them. The larger of the two put down his binoculars, and pulled a small walkie-talkie from the pocket of his parka. He spoke rapidly and then settled down next to his companion. Both wore white arctic outfits. The larger man's gaunt face cracked into a smile as he looked over at his daughter. His iron gray beard stubble and scarred face did little to enhance his smile.
“We’re to take out any stragglers from this bunch, and keep one alive for questioning.”
His daughter looked at him wearily, and glanced back down at the noisy trucks. She brushed her dark hair out of her eyes and tucked it further under her hood. The distant sound of approaching helicopters made her glance up. Her father patted her knee, and motioned for her to get down further. The Apache helicopters swooped down into the pass, and within seconds, the chain guns were ripping through the trucks at the front and rear of the supply line. The Apaches fired at each stalled truck until the occupants attempted escape, and then the chain guns switched to the moving targets with deadly accuracy.
The older man watched with grim satisfaction, now that the gunfire had died down a bit. His daughter took the binoculars off of her father, and started looking for movement along the side of the road, and the trees beyond. Wherever she spotted a survivor, she pointed him out to her father. They counted eight who had made it past the chain guns. Six of the supply trucks remained intact and salvageable.
“Are you going down, Dad?” Sarah asked her father.
“Your Uncle Paul and your brother have the right field, and your Uncle Mitch has the left. I think we’ll wait and see if… shit I forgot to tell Paul about taking one alive.”
Small arms bursts erupted from down below, as Sarah saw her father grab the walkie-talkie. She could see four of the eight down, and the others caught in the crossfire. They huddled behind a small clump of trees, firing wildly in all directions.
“Better hurry, Dad.”
“Wolverine One and Two cease fire… I repeat… ceasefire.”
Below, the crossfire stopped; which left the surviving soldiers confused, and silent also. The walkie-talkie in the man's hand squawked sharply.
“Will you cut that Red Dawn crap, and tell us what the hell you want us to do!”
Sarah recognized her Uncle Paul’s sarcastic voice and smiled.
“Would you prefer Pollywog,” her Dad fired back.
“All I know is, you ain’t Patrick Swayze, and I sure ain’t Charlie Sheen. Now cut the crap, and spit it out in English, Jack.”
“We need one alive, Bub. You copy that Mitch?”
“Hey, I thought I was Wolverine Two,” Mitch added smartly.
“You suck-up,” Paul spat out. “He said get one alive you moron, so get your nose out of his ass, and lay down some fire while I get closer.”
“Hold up, Paul,” Jack interrupted, “I have another idea. Is Jake nearby?”
“I’m here, Dad.”
“Time for you to practice for real with a grenade. I want you to throw one so it goes off about twenty yards to the right of those soldiers, and another twenty to the left. Think you can do that without blowing your Uncle Paul’s balls off?”
“Yeah, no sweat, but does Uncle Paul still have his balls Dad? I thought…”
“Why you little… give me that. Jack, this little smartass prick definitely belongs to you. Don’t you think fifteen's a little young for grenade practice?”
“Yep, four years ago I wouldn’t let him have two sodas in the same day, now I want him to throw two grenades in the same minute. Life’s a bitch, ain’t it, brother?"
“Roger that,” Paul answered. “Launch in one minute.”
The explosions tore the woods apart on both sides of the sheltered soldiers. A minute later, the soldiers stood up slowly, with their hands high over their heads, and walked slowly out in the open. Paul yelled out in English for them to get on their knees, and then to drop face down in the snow. One of the four, dropped face down; and the others seeing their comrade's action, dropped down beside him. Mitch ran to the scene with his AK-47 ready. Paul and Jake arrived in the front, and roughly tore at the prisoners’ clothes, searching for hidden weapons and papers. Jake handcuffed each one from behind with white plastic locking ties, and stood them each up while his uncles watched closely, weapons ready.
Jack and his daughter arrived a moment later. Jack clapped his hand on his son’s shoulder. “You threw those like a pro, Jake. I probably would have hit them trying to get close.”
“Thanks,” the boy said. “What do we do with them now?”
Jack glanced at his two brothers. “Any of them speak English?”
Paul grinned and walked over to the four prisoners. He grabbed the one who had dived into the snow first. He brought him over to stand by the group, while Mitch watched the others. “This guy understands. Check out his looks. If he’s Cuban or South of the Border, I’ll eat your shorts.”
Jack took a handful of the man's hair, while his brother grabbed the prisoner’s cuffed hands. He lifted the man’s head and looked at his brother in amazement. Paul nodded, smiling grimly.
“Shit…” Jack whispered softly as he stepped back. “This war must be getting popular. Everyone wants to get a piece. Are the rest SOB (South of Border)?”
“Yeah,” Paul answered. “What do we do with Abdul here?”
“We got orders to question them. They want everything we can get… yesterday. Where’s Wolf?”
“I tied him up by the tree over there,” Paul said pointing. “We were afraid he would bolt when the grenades
went off; but with all the gunfire he’s been around, the grenades hardly made him look up. He’s probably deaf anyway.”
“Jake… cut the tie on this guy and go get Wolf,” Jack told his son. “We might need him to help us with the questioning.”
“I will tell you nothing, the prisoner spoke fiercely for the first time as he rubbed his wrists.”
Mitch took two steps over and rifle butted the man in the kidney. He screamed in pain, and collapsed writhing on the ground. Sarah began to move towards him, but her Uncle Paul held her back. Mitch leaned over the man, while Sarah went around and watched the other prisoners. Mitch cupped the man's contorted face in his hand as he shook his head slowly back and forth.
“Rule number one, Bub: never speak unless we speak to you first… never. I won’t warn you again as nicely as I did this time.” Mitch warned.
Paul squatted down next to his brother, and Jack joined them. They waited patiently for the man to regain some of his composure. When they were sure he could speak, Jack asked him what country sent him. The man looked up at the three who watched him curiously. The one who had hit him smiled at him. The man turned away and stayed silent.
“Mitch, would you get Stony here a dial tone please?” Jack said.
Mitch, still smiling, smashed the rifle butt into the prisoner’s head and stood up. The three moved away from the now still figure.
“I believe you enjoy this a little too much, my brother,” Jack scolded Mitch jokingly. “You feel better now tough guy?”
“Just following your orders, big boy. I guess when Paul and I found you a few years ago, ambushing and torturing, that don’t count, huh?”
“I thought Jake and Sarah died with Joyce in Ohio. Besides, I was working for the man. How did you think I get us all of this equipment? The chaos I caused drew attention from the right people… and supplies.” Jack looked at his two brothers quietly for a moment. “That was one fine moment when you two showed up with the kids. I owe our suppliers for hooking us up. Wolf and I busily supplied info while carrying on guerrilla action up here after they contacted me. Finding and sending all of you to me was a hell of a reward.”
“What the hell did the dog have to do with it?” Paul asked. “I thought the only thing he knew how to do was attack you every time you mess with the kids.”
“This is the first time we’ve had to take anybody in the years since you guys got here. I stopped taking those chances when you bunch arrived,” Jack answered. “I’ll show you. Mitch, you know I was kidding about the other crap, hell, we ain’t here freezing our asses off to make friends.”
Jack turned and walked up the hill to meet the boy and dog coming down from above. The dog immediately ran ahead. He knocked the older man off his feet, and began growling and tearing at his master’s arm. The more the older man swore, and fought the dog, the more aggressive the dog got, and the more his brothers howled with laughter. Finally, the man rolled over, and lay still, until the dog sniffed at him, and then backed away. The dog sat down quietly next to the man’s son.
The two brothers caught up, and bent down next to their older brother.
“Now this is a dog trainer,” Paul remarked. “What a neat fucking trick. No fetch the Frisbee for ol’ Wolf, no sir.”
“Man,” Mitch added, “I never get tired of watching that dog sic him. If we get out of this, you got to take that show on the road.”
Jack slowly raised his head out of the snow. “Oh, I am so happy you two are entertained.” He looked cautiously over at the dog, who grinned with fangs showing. “I am going to kill that fucking dog. He never lets up, and he never lets me know when, the ungrateful cur. I…”
The dog growled and went straight over Jack and down the hill, slamming into the man they had left lying on the ground. He had almost reached Sarah from behind, as she watched her Father. The dog took him down, and went right for his throat, ripping viciously. Luckily the man managed to get an arm up to shield his throat. Jack jogged down with his brothers and son close behind.
“Release Wolf, release,” Jack shouted with authority.
Wolf released the man reluctantly, and lay down next to him, growling. Paul and Mitch had the three other men face down on the snow. Jack gave his daughter the stare she knew only too well: the look reserved for special mistakes. Jack shook his head finally and gave her a hug.
“Sorry, Dad.”
“Think how sorry I would have been if he had gotten to you girl. File it away, Sarah. You probably won’t get to make another mistake like that one. Your Uncles and I shouldn’t have been screwin’ around anyway.” Jack held her for another moment, and then bent down by the fallen man, grimacing and holding his bleeding arm. Jack took the knife out of its sheath by his side and held it loosely in his lap.
“I’m going to ask you some questions my friend, and you will answer them quickly and truthfully. Do you understand?”
“I will tell you nothing. I am not afraid of you or your stinking knife. I am prepared to die.”
Jack glanced down at the knife in his hand, and then at the soldier with a slight grin. “Hell hombre, who said anything about dyin’? I’m not going to cut you. I have something else in mind to encourage your cooperation. Wolf... balls!”
Wolf leaped straight for the front of the man’s pants, jamming his whole mouth around the man’s crotch. He screamed, and Wolf bit harder. He shook his big head a little, soliciting yet another blood curdling scream.
"I saw this trick in a movie once. I want to know where you guys were going, and I want to know what’s been happening. I’ve seen far too many movements of troops and equipment lately. Now you get talking, and give me something big, and I give you my word I will turn you over to my leaders. Play dumb, and I let Wolf tear you from one end to the other, and I bury you here. Your choice,” Jack explained.
“I will give you something,” the man whispered fearfully. “Just take away this fucking dog!”
Jack bent over and petted Wolf’s head. “Wolf acts as our truth detector, so he stays where he is. If something you say doesn’t impress me with truth and importance, you my friend will not be very popular with the ladies.”
One of the other prisoners shouted out in Spanish, and Paul silenced him with his rifle butt. The man on the ground with the attached dog swallowed hard, and began to talk. What he said drew everyone’s attention.
“We must be in position to attack when we hear of the landing at San Francisco Airport. I do not know how many or who, only there will be a massive landing, and we are all to do as much damage as we can.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Jack,” Paul said. “Even in the sad shape we’re in, the sickness has burned itself out, and we’re making headway with sealing these sapper attacks. We heard they already have General Anthony back in Washington to take over things under martial law until we get back control. No matter how many troops they land at SF, they’re all gonna’ die. This smells.”
“Wolf,” Jack said quietly. Wolf grabbed tighter and began to shake his head.
“Wait,” the man screamed. “The Chinese have known for a long time the President, Vice President, your cabinet, and most of your high Pentagon officials are dead. They know this is the time to strike, now that the contagion has run its course, and before your military regains control… please… it is the truth.”
Jack kept hold of Wolf’s head. “I think this might be the only chance they have. If we really get rolling here, the first thing they’re going to do is vaporize a few of our misguided enemy alliance countries with something that will make them glow in the dark for a thousand years. These assholes can disrupt our recovery with something real bad again… maybe sneak in nukes, or plant some more of those bacteriological bombs, like they already did. We’d get knocked right back on our asses.”
Jack grabbed the man's shirtfront and pulled his face close to his. “I’m only asking this once… how long do we have?”
The soldier looked down at the growling set of teeth attache
d to the middle of his pants and said, “four days.”
“Let’s get these guys to the uniforms, and see what they think,” Jack said, while he and his brothers moved away from the prisoners. Jake and Wolf kept watch. “I’ll watch the prisoners first while you guys get some sleep. Maybe I can overhear something else.”
Paul grinned. “I get it. They don’t know you...” Paul froze as he absorbed one of his older brother’s murderous stares. Mitch laughed as he watched the two of them square off nose to nose. “You know, you’re going to look at me like that once too often Jack-Off, and I am going to put that stare where the sun don’t shine.”
Jack smiled slowly. “When you get started Pollywog, start early, and get a good look at the sun, because you’ll be busy a while turning the light off this stare.”
“No way, I don’t want to hurt you. If I hurt you, who’ll show me that neat trick you do with the dog.”
All three brothers enjoyed Paul’s rejoinder. When they were sure they were out of hearing range of the prisoners, Jack nodded at Paul and said, “you’re right, they don’t know I speak Spanish. They might be stupid enough to say something useful. What do you think about that four days crap?”
“I think we better get these guys to the base quick. I believed him,” Mitch replied. “Better safe than sorry. If we skip out of here tonight, they can be questioning them by morning, not that they’ll get much more than you already have. Don’t you guys think it strange this guy knows so much? Hell, they know they lose one out of every three supply trucks they move, especially in these mountains. We own the air, and the only way they get anything through is because of a shortage of manpower.”
“I agree with Mitch,” Paul added. “This must be a rig job to throw us off.”
Jack hesitated before answering. “Listen Paul, you saw what was in the back of those trucks: Stingers, rockets, C-4. Do you think they would let all that stuff fall into our hands for the hell of it, just to convince us they’re planning something else? Something big, like the Airport gig Abdul talked about seems more probable to me with every passing minute.”
“I don’t know,” Paul admitted. “What do you want to do? Those guys have no intention of babbling all their little secrets in front of you no matter how you habla Española.”
American Survival (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 5) Page 1