Out of LA

by Dennis Elder

  “Yea, so,” responded Big Jim.

  “We got there just after somebody killed um both,” continued Jeb.

  “What!” bellowed Big Jim as he slowly rose from his chair.

  “Yep, they killed um both and dumped the bodies in a side building,” said Jeb.

  “How many?” questioned Big Jim.

  “Ten. One woman and nine men,” said Seymour.

  Big Jim gritted his teeth together and balled his two big hands into large fists.

  “Frank,” shouted Big Jim.

  “Yes sir,” responded Frank as the younger man entered into the living room and stood before Jim’s desk. Frank was the big man’s oldest son and trusted lieutenant.

  “Sound the alarm, son. Somebody just murdered Shane and Henry. Saddle horses for everyone who can ride,” shouted Big Jim. “Every mans to come loaded for bear. And tell um we’re leavin in 10 minutes.”

  Franklyn turned and ran out the building. In the background came the sound of an iron bell struck by a ball pin hammer.

  Jim pulled open his drawer and grabbed his favorite handgun, a 45 caliber Smith and Wesson automatic. It was a World War II model - something his daddy gave him on his twelfth birthday. He liked the slim lines and the weight. He quickly fastened a gun belt and holster around his 48 inch waist and then turned to Jeb.

  “Let’s go,” barked the big man as he shoved the smoking cigar back in his tobacco stained mouth.

  Chapter 36: Eye for an Eye

  It was close to 1 pm by the time Mark and his nine companions finished eating their lunch. Today they took food from their emergency supply. The food wasn’t bad but wasn’t great either. Mark decided not to scavenge for lunch to minimize their outdoor exposure. He didn’t want any additional contact with the supremacist group.

  They took refuge in a Church just off Lincoln Ave. It was called St. Boniface. Its walls were thick and covered in stone. The front door was equally thick and had an additional quarter inch of aged copper around it. The place felt safe.

  Jake and Boon were posted outside keeping an eye out for threats. They had already eaten. The team was re-packing their bikes when they heard the front door latch open. It was Jake and Boon.

  “We got company,” said Boon in a loud and clear voice.

  “Which direction?” asked Mark as he reached for his Bushmaster.

  “East,” said Jake. “Same direction we just came from.”

  Eight rangers made for the east wall of the Church, pushed their backs up against the wall and checked their weapons. Frank and Susan went to the front door. There weren’t any windows at the entry and the door was barred shut.

  “Any idea on how many?” asked Frank, as he pulled the receiver back on his bushmaster and flipping off the safety switch. The others followed suit.

  “At least fifteen,” shouted Boon. “And they have horses.”

  “Horses?” asked Doc. “We haven’t seen any horses.”

  “Well they have at least fifteen of them,” responded Jake.

  The bottom of each church windows was about four feet high. Half the windows were stained glass and half were regular glass. The stained glass windows were thicker, so it took a couple of rifle but hits to bust that glass out.

  “Tell me what you see east of us,” barked Mark, who was still at the front of the Church with Susan.

  Once the window glass was busted out eight Bushmaster automatic rifles slipped out the east windows of St. Boniface’s church. A strong show of force could often scare off an aggressor with lesser firepower.

  Thankfully their SmartScopes helped them quickly assess the attacking force’s strength.

  Their SmartScopes TTW, or “Through The Wall” feature let the Rangers against the Church windows clearly identify one group of nine bad guys spread out inside the front lobby of the Chase bank about 100 yards across the street, just south east of the Church. The bank walls were mostly glass. Mark and Susan continued to stand with their backs against the thick walls on each side of the Church’s big entry doors.

  Randy spotted one man standing between the Sprint phone store and the Ice rink, about 150 yards to the east, on the south side of Lincoln Avenue. He was with the horses.

  A second group was across the street and directly to the east, spread out in some administration offices that faced the Church. There were seven bad guys in there. They had stucco walls for cover.

  Mark turned over his shoulder and shouted, “Jake. Take the Mac and see if you can find some elevation and double check our six.”

  Jake dropped to a crouch and moved toward his bike trailer. He pulled out a long carrying case, popped it open and quickly assembled the fifty caliber cannon.

  Everyone else kept their eyes on the targets in front of them. They had already split up their firing assignments. Everybody knew their targets.

  Jake grabbed a fifty caliber ammo clip and shouldered the Mac. He pulled his Beretta out, chambered a round and made his way out the back door of the church in search of a second floor.

  Just then Mark and his team heard a deep voice, shouting at them. Mark couldn’t see the guy, but the sound came from directly across the entrance to the Church.

  “I’m addressing the men inside the church who murdered Shane and Henry!” shouted Big Jim. Jim was standing behind a partially opened door that led into a medical office building.

  But Big Jim didn’t expose himself. He’d been in the army and knew a little about combat. Several of his boys had done some time in the Army too. He was confident in his white brethren. He’d weed out these maggots in short time. First, he’d shoot booth feet of the leader, just before he cut the guy’s head off with his K-Bar knife.

  Nobody answered from the Church. But Jim knew they were in there. Seymour was his best tracker and had doubled back to Jim’s mounted group as soon as Seymour was certain the target was settled down in the Church for a spell.

  Mark decided not to answer. He was giving Jake as much time as possible to get set. When no one responded Jim repeated himself.

  “I said, I’m addressing the leader in the Church there. All I want is the men who killed Shane and Henry. You give ‘um up and we’ll call it even.”

  Mark stayed low and moved toward the church door. When he got there, he dropped the cross bar on the door and let it open slightly.

  “I appreciate your interest sir,” shouted back Mark, as he peeked through the crack in the door hinge hoping to see the man calling their group out. “However, I’m afraid we won’t be able to comply with your request.”

  “It’s only fair,” shouted back Jim. “An eye for an eye.” You killed two of mine. I only want what’s fair.”

  “Your men fired on our group as we approached Lincoln Avenue,” shouted Mark, as he sent hand signals to Frank to get ready to fire. “There was no warning. Your guys just fired on us without justification. That was attempted murder.”

  “They was following orders,” shouted Jim. “Protecting what’s ours.”

  “I can respect that,” responded Mark. “But they should have given us fair warning - at least.”

  “Maybe so,” barked Jim, who was getting a little impatient. “But what’s done is done. You give up your two men or we’ll be forced to open fire.”

  “And I’m warning you friend,” replied Mark in a steady but pointed voice. “If you fire on us we’ll be forced to destroy your group. And we’ll show no quarter,” finished Mark.

  “Don’t expect none,” laughed Big Jim. He’d told the boys earlier to begin firing when Jim shouted the word, “Now.”

  “This is your last chance!” screamed Jim.

  Mark turned to Frank and hand signaled to him to begin fire on Mark’s command.

  “OK…,” said Big Jim. “It’s too bad we couldn’t….”

  Just then Mark suddenly shouted to the team, “Fire!”

  Frank and Tyrone concentrated their fire on the administration building directly to the East of the Church. The building offered little resistance t
o their bullets. Six of the seven men were hit in the first burst. Five of the six didn’t move after the first clips were emptied. The last two were severely wounded and tried to crawl away from the intense and very concentrate fire.

  At the same instant, Randy, Sam, Junior and Boon fired into the largest force hiding inside the Chase bank across the street. All nine of the men were dead by the time half the Ranger’s clips were empty. Glass walls make poor protection. They thought they were invisible behind the flimsy shutters. The SmartScopes proved them wrong.

  The seven supremacists in the medical office suddenly poured automatic fire into the front of the Church building. There were no windows on the wall facing the medical office. Mark was barely able to shut and re-bolt the door before the bullets began to fly.

  Jake had found a staircase and located a West facing open window to search for targets to the West of the Church. He could hear the gunfire in the background as he swept the TAC’s scope back and forth between three mobile home like trailers and a cross street back another hundred yards beyond the soccer field. He had a clear line of sight left to right, but no threats were visible.

  Suddenly a woman moved out and around the side of the far right mobile home building. She was holding a LARs rocket on her shoulder. Just as she raised and pointed the rocket at the Church, Mark swung the TAC - 50 and centered the cross hairs on his selected target. Mark wasn’t just a good shot. He was the reigning long range rifle champ – three years straight. He still held five of the seven accuracy records for personnel serving in or having served in Afghanistan.

  The easy shot would have been the woman’s head. But that was no challenge for Jake. He sighted his cross hairs on the LARs rocket warhead and pulled the TACs hair trigger.

  The results of the exploding warhead were spectacular. The woman’s head, shoulders and torso disintegrated, and the down blast tore her legs in two and sent them flying thirty yards in opposite directions. The sound of concussion was tremendous.

  Big Jim saw the exploding fireball from the LARs warhead as it rose to his left and across the street. He had expected the rocket to enter the Church and explode inside. Obviously, something had gone wrong.

  Jim’s men continued to fire their automatic weapons into the front of St. Boniface’s church. But the exterior was just too thick, and the bullets ended their travel about 12 inches into the wall. Jim watched as his men methodically fired their M-16s into the building for two solid minutes. He finally shouted to the men to cease fire. It took a few seconds before everyone stopped shooting. There was a lot of gun smoke in the air.

  “Jim opened the medical office front door again and shouted, “Had enough?”

  A few moments later Mark replied, “Sorry, I thought you morons had left.”

  “Still here friend,” Big Jim shouted back.

  “As are we,” said Mark. “And all my guys are still in one piece.”

  “As are mine,” replied Big Jim.

  “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” offered Mark.

  The confident tone of Mark’s voice troubled Big Jim. He knew the LARs rocket attack had failed but the rest of his group should be fine. “But still….” he wondered to himself.

  “Jeb,” barked Big Jim. “Swing around the back of the building and make sure Jerry’s and Bob’s men are still OK.”

  Jeb moved quickly and exited the back of the office.

  “Still here?” asked Mark, from the re-opened door of the Church.

  “Just checkin on a few things,” responded Big Jim.

  “Take your time,” replied Mark.

  While Jeb was checkin on Big Jim’s other men, Mark ordered Frank, Tyrone and Boon out the back door and told them to find a flanking position on the Dental office. They needed to get guns on that threat.

  From a side door Frank, Tyrone and Boon watched Jeb make his way to the administration building offices and the Bank before returning to the medical office. Once Jeb was out of sight Frank, Tyrone and Boon moved forward and positioned themselves behind a cement wall along the parking lot to the East of the Church. From there they had a clear line of fire on the medical office.

  Jeb was winded by the time he got back. From the look on Jeb’s face, Big Jim knew something was very wrong.

  “They’re all dead,” shouted Jeb, in a panicked voice.

  “What?” shouted Big Jim.

  “Every one of them are down and dead,” repeated Jeb. “They got everyone of them.”

  Big Jim always had a temper. His mother had repeated warned him over the years that his temper would one day be the end of him. His mother’s revelation was about to come true.

  “Bastards,” shouted Big Jim. The men around Big Jim looked up nervously at their leader. They hated it when he got pissed.

  “Murderers,” shouted Big Jim, but this time he boldly walked outside the safety of the front door.

  Mark watched Jim exit the front door of the Medical office and level his favorite 45-caliber handgun at the Church. Mark turned back to Randy and mouthed the words “READY.” Mark and Randy had already agreed that when Mark gave the signal to Randy, he would shout out the word “NOW” though one of the Stained glass windows. When Frank heard that, Frank, Boon and Tyrone would pop up from behind the cement wall and cut down anyone inside or outside the medical office.

  “Murderers,” shouted Big Jim again, as he stepped a few more feet toward the Church. Then he turned back to his remaining men. “All we need to do is rush um,” commanded Jim. “Get out here and we’re gonna rush um.”

  The six remaining men inside didn’t like that idea much. They looked at each other with uneasy eyes. Only Jeb stood up and walked out into the street with Jim. “Pussies,” remarked Jeb as he walked past the remaining supremacists. After a second or two the remaining five men slowly moved out into the street and joined Jeb and Big Jim. Jeb’s insult was too much for the other men’s pride.

  Just as Big Jim was about the say “Move,” and lead his men forward, Mark beat him to it by two seconds and mouthed the word “Now” to Randy, who shouted “NOW!” out a stained glass window. A split second later Boon, Tyrone and Frank stood and emptied a total of 90 bullets into the remaining supremacists inside of three seconds. The average number of bullets that struck each man was ten. Big Jim and his men didn’t even have time to pull their own triggers. They went down in a heap. Boon, Tyrone and Frank dropped their empty magazines and replace them less than two seconds later. They kept their Bushmasters focused on the dead or dying men lying in the middle of Lincoln Avenue for an additional 20 seconds.

  “Clear!” shouted Frank, as Frank, Boon and Tyrone finally dropped the smoking muzzles of their rifles and clicked the fire switches to safety.

  The front door of the Church opened and out came Mark, Susan, Doc, Randy, Junior and finally Jake. Jake was still holding his fifty caliber TAC.

  No one said a thing. Big Jim and his men were given plenty of warning.

  Just then a galloping horse took off down Lincoln Avenue with a single rider on its back. By the time Mark’s team could react the horse was already 300 yards gone.

  “Dam it,” said Frank. “Forgot about him.

  Mark turned to Jake and pointed toward the escaping man.

  “Jake, take him down,” commanded Mark.

  Jake didn’t hesitate. He moved forward and placed the TAC’s resting tripod on the hood of a partially crashed car. He pulled back the bolt and loaded a fifty caliber bullet into the chamber. Jake took a knee and got himself comfortable. He sighted on the man’s bobbing head. The horse was at least 500 yards away now. Mark got comfortable, relaxed and took a long slow breath. Then he squeezed the 3.5 pound trigger. “The 300 grain precision bullet left the muzzle at 2700 feet per second. It took just less than one second to catch up with the rider. The heavy bullet severed the man’s spinal cord and drove him up and over the head of horse he had been riding. The big animal deftly jumped over the man’s tumbling body and continued running away down the road.


  “He’s down,” reported Jake, as he stood again and methodically folded up the tripod arms of the TAC 50.

  Everyone gathered quickly to discuss next moves.

  “Nice work everyone,” said Mark. “No one hurt and all Unfriendlys are neutralized.”

  “Amen to that,” said Junior.

  Mark took a deep breath.

  “OK. We need to keep moving. All that gun fire is sure to attract a few HBs,” began Mark.

  “What about the horses?” asked Boon.

  “Cut their saddles loose and let them go,” responded Mark.

  “Might be the only horses left alive,” responded Doc. “Shouldn’t we take them along with us?”