by Rusty Ellis
Chase stood back up and, still staying just north of the dirt road, hiked through the brush toward the edge of the clearing.
“Henry,” Chase yelled a forewarning of his arrival.
Chase could see Henry peeking out from the kitchen window on the west side of the home, the tip of the 30-30 rifle to the side of Henry’s face. Locking eyes, Chase made his way around the back of Henry’s truck and up the porch steps where he was met by an open front door and Henry grinning ear-to-ear.
The smile would have been welcome if it weren’t for Chase having just seen Henry coming back from his little excursion. The grin was obviously attached to Henry’s view of having been on a successful mission of his own.
Henry clapped Chase on the back as he entered the house and shut the front door behind him. Chase could see Henry’s backpack on the kitchen table, unzipped, with some large object wrapped in a towel next to the bag.
“Been hunting?” Chase asked and followed Henry into the kitchen.
Henry’s rifle was leaning against the wall opposite the counter and fridge.
“You could say that,” Henry grinned.
“Is there even a round in the chamber?”
“Of course, otherwise it would be a club not a firearm,” Henry answered and shook his head.
Chase looked at the towel-wrapped object on the table and raised an eyebrow, “Hunting rabbits?”
Henry laughed and slapped the front of his leg. He unwrapped the towel to reveal a spotting scope. Chase was afraid to ask what he was hunting, or spying on. He waited.
Henry picked up the scope and pointed it through the living room and out the front window and raised it to his eye.
“Just doing a little recon myself while you were tied up,” Henry said.
Chase took in a steady breath, “Recon?”
“I took a little hike on my property and found a nice little spot on the hill to look at the wildlife,” Henry smiled and laid the scope on the open towel.
“Find anything?” Chase was hoping for an answer of black bear, elk, mule deer, or even wolves.
“It’s amazing the difference between the side-mount scope on my rifle and my spotting scope. The glass optics on the spotting scope reveal a lot more, like the coming and going at the cabin.”
Chase pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefingers and closed his eyes. The levity in Henry’s voice sent a pain through Chase’s right eye and into his temple. Henry wasn’t just kicking a beehive. He was kicking a beehive of military-trained bees. Military trained bees who already had a leery eye on him. Military bees aware of Henry pointing a spotting scope and then a gun in the direction of their hive.
Henry was on their radar. There was a briefing about his “recon” and they documented it in a security memo to staff. He might as well had been yelling at them through a bullhorn.
“Henry, you can’t do that… you just can’t,” Chase said and opened his eyes in time to see the grin melt from Henry’s face.
“Can’t do what?” Henry challenged.
Chase could see and hear the direction the conversation was taking. You can’t challenge a man like Henry and not expect pushback. But Henry’s actions were creating a border-war. He was challenging Popov and his crew. And worse, he was putting them on a heightened alert, bad for Henry, bad for Chase.
“You can’t hike up and scope out the cabin. And you can’t point your rifle at the cabin.”
Chase had to be blunt. He needed to get across the gravity of the situation. This wasn’t a war of paper, these were real men, real skills, real weapons, and a real need to protect their assignments and jobs. The men on the HLC security staff took pride in their skills and their duties. They didn’t have to agree with Adam’s little world, but they had an embedded duty to follow through on their agreed job requirements.
“You telling me what I can and can’t do on my own property?” Henry asked.
Chase knew Henry would head in this direction, but he needed to draw the line in the sand before Henry wandered too far into HLC territory and triggered a set of escalating responses.
“I’m just trying to make sure you don’t bite off more than you can chew, Henry. I’ve spent time with these guys now. They’re all ex-military. There’s no shortage of skills and willingness to fulfill their job descriptions.”
“And what exactly is that job description?” Henry asked.
“To protect Adam. To protect the HLC property. To prevent any threat or interference into the operations on the property.”
“Operations,” Henry huffed. “What they’re doing there is dishonorable. Protecting that man and his twisted little Community.”
Chase waited for Henry to vent, waiting for his boiling point to peak and come down a bit.
“Nobody tells me what I can do on my property. I have a right. This is still America, isn’t it?”
“Yes, you are completely within your rights and the law on this, Henry,” Chase answered.
“Then I don’t see the problem,” Henry said.
Chase raised his open palms into the air in front of him, “The problem is these guys not only are monitoring the HLC grounds but the surrounding properties for what they perceive as threats.”
“I’m not a threat, just a property owner acting within my rights on MY property.”
“And I get that. They might have seen it that way until you pointed your rifle toward the cabin.”
Chase watched the look on Henry’s face shift from confidence to confusion.
“How did they know that?” Henry asked.
“One of the guards saw you glassing the property and they sent someone to check on you.”
Henry’s look switched from confusion to a low simmer, “They sent someone onto my property?”
“Yes. And after they got close enough to where you were posted up, they saw you look through your rifle scope at the cabin.”
Chase watched Henry as he sorted out his rights against the fact someone had gotten close enough to him to watch his every move, on his own property, and he hadn't known it.
Chase continued, “Truthfully, I just want you to be safe in all this, Henry. I don’t want to drag you into my family problems and put you in actual, physical danger.”
Henry calmed down and met Chase’s look, “What about you being safe in all this?”
Chase wasn’t prepared for Henry’s response. He was more focused on the facts, the most important being keeping Henry and the Jones’ on the outer-edge of trouble.
“You walked right in and put yourself in the middle of it all. How safe is that?” Henry said.
“I didn’t have a choice. It’s my family.”
“Oh, I see. And you have to do it all yourself.”
“That’s right… I mean no, you guys are helping a lot, and I appreciate it,” Chase said.
“So what is it, all by yourself or help from friends? You can’t have it both ways.”
“I just don’t want to get anyone else hurt because of me and my family.”
“I’ll let you define ‘family’,” Henry said. “And be careful, excluding people in your life just because it gets a little hairy or there is no bloodline connection is nothing more than selfish, son.”
Chase rolled Henry’s words through his mind. He needed their help. He didn’t want to put them in danger, but they wanted and were willing to help. The best he could do was minimize their exposure. No, the best he could do is come up with a plan to use their help and minimize their risk. The writing was on the wall; they intended to help.
“I saw my sister, Megan,” Chase looked up to meet Henry’s gaze.
“Really? That’s great! What about your niece?” Henry asked.
Chase shook his head, “I didn’t see her, but Megan should know where she is… I hope.”
A smile returned to Henry’s face, “So what’s our plan? I assume you have some sort of a plan swimming around between those ears.”
Chase raised an eyebrow and answered, “Do you hav
e a bathroom scale and two backpacks?”
42
The old man kept a steady pace back to his house. He definitely felt confident on his own property. He never looked back once. He didn’t even swivel his head right or left. His focus was on the hike back to his house, that’s all.
James kept a comfortable distance and shadowed the man just off the trail; behind him and to his right. If the man absently looked at anything, it would be in the direction of his previous focus—the HLC.
The old man slowed his pace as he reached the edge of the clearing near his house. James stopped and crouched down. He pulled the binoculars from his pocket and watched as he used the handrail on the porch to pull himself up the stairs and into the house.
James was content to report back to Popov that the man had retreated back into his home. His quick outing was done and contact was successful. Check and check. He lowered his binoculars and started to slip them back in his pocket to retrieve his phone and check on Harper. Holding the pocket flap open, a voice yelling near the old man’s house interrupted James.
The sound came from the opposite side of the property. James raised his binoculars to locate the voice. Out of the low-brush he could see a man walking toward the property and yelling the old man’s name. James squinted through the lenses and leaned in the man's direction as his face came into view…
Harper!
James watched as Harper climbed the porch stairs. The old man met Harper at the door and welcomed Harper into his home with a pat on the back. Harper stepped through the open door and he and the old man disappeared into the residence together.
James traded the binoculars for his phone and pulled up the application monitoring Harper’s truck. The circle pulsed on the map and showed the truck on one of the main roads at the base of the old man’s property.
James reached for the mic on his chest, “James to Popov.”
“Popov, go ahead.”
“Channel Four.”
After switching over his radio, James heard Popov say, “What did you find?”
“The old man is home now.”
“Roger that. Is there something else…?” Popov asked.
“Harper just showed up and is in the old man’s house,” James said.
The radio went silent for several seconds.
Popov said, “Meet me at the Garden. Seems we have a mole problem.”
“Roger that.”
43
Chase sent a text to Frank to let him know he found Henry and everything was okay. Henry stood in the middle of his kitchen waiting for Chase to unveil his plan. Chase slipped his phone back into his pocket and took a deep breath.
“I have an idea how to beat the sensors to get Megan out,” Chase said.
“What about your niece?”
“I need to get Megan out without being detected first, then I can grab Haley and do a break and run. I don’t care if they see me on the second pass. By the time they catch up with me and Haley we’ll be safely across the property line. The key is getting Megan out undetected.”
“And you need a bathroom scale and two backpacks to do it? Not sure about the bathroom scale, but fitting her into two backpacks and walking out of there would be a pretty amazing trick.”
Chase laughed. He hadn’t thought about how the three “rescue items” looked from Henry’s point of view.
“They have their sensors set to alert the Operator at three-hundred fifty pounds or less. They don’t care about anything over that weight, or at least they don’t view it as a threat.”
“Why that weight?” Henry asked.
“That weight and below covers humans and black bears. Either causes a bit of excitement for security and they’ll respond to confirm and deal with the breach.”
“I can imagine.”
“This covers mule deer too, though they’re a little more skittish and don’t come onto property as often because of the perimeter patrols I’d guess.”
Henry nodded.
“Anything over that weight would have to be an elk, either a cow or bull.”
“I’m still not following how splitting an elk into two backpacks will get you quietly across the sensors.”
“When they see anything over three-hundred fifty pounds crossing the sensors, they assume it’s an elk and they don’t respond. The most common points of crossing are on the east side of the property, away from human traffic and contact.”
“Does that happen very often?”
“Not too often, but enough that I can use it as cover,” Chase said.
“And the backpacks and scale?”
“A cow elk is about five-hundred pounds. I weigh two-hundred and twenty-five pounds.”
Henry raised an eyebrow as he scanned chase up and down.
“Okay, okay, before breakfast. Can I continue?”
Henry waved an arm to invite Chase to proceed.
“I need to carry an extra two-hundred and seventy-five pounds across the sensors to be ignored by the Operator. I can do that using the backpacks.”
“Why two backpacks?”
“After I get across the sensors and grab Megan, I have to shed enough weight in one bag to offset her weight.”
Henry nodded and asked, “Ahhhh, the bathroom scale. Do you know how much your sister weighs?”
“Luckily she’s always been very particular about her weight. I’d bet she’s within three pounds either side of a buck-twenty. So I need one bag weighted down to one-hundred twenty pounds and the other at one-hundred fifty-five pounds.”
Henry shook his head, “That’s a lot of weight going over the first time. And it’s still a lot of weight coming back. That’s really going to slow you down.”
“No problem, I’m not in a real hurry. I’m just a grazing cow elk wandering across the sensors.”
44
What are you up to, Harper?
Nothing was more effective than old-fashioned surveillance. Having James put a bird-dog device on Harper’s truck was a good move, but following up with eyes on the old man paid greater dividends than the GPS unit alone.
Harper showing up at the old man’s residence begged a slew of questions. James’ observation of the old man patting Harper on the back and welcoming him into his home only grew the list of questions further.
Just showing up on the old man’s porch could be nothing more than Harper warning the old man to steer clear of the HLC property. At first glance, it could be viewed as reckless on Harper’s part, a rogue attempt to try to diffuse the situation without being ordered to do so. However, if the old man backed off, it could have been a smart gamble for the new employee to earn a little credit with his peers.
All of that was gone with a yell and a pat on the back. The old man knew Harper. Otherwise Harper would have been met with the muzzle-end of a rifle instead of a cheerful greeting.
Popov wrestled with the questions running through his mind. The possible scenarios. Harper and the old man’s intentions. Were they intending to gather intel to possibly present to law enforcement? If so, they would quickly find nothing. Even Popov’s men were oblivious to the deeper workings of the Community. They were assigned to keeping the perimeter safe. It was a simple job that required no further knowledge of the inner dealings and matters squarely related to Adam and the HLC.
Popov’s thoughts returned to Harper and the old man… did they plan on somehow taking out Adam—or someone else—from a distance? If so, they were being careless, unprofessional at best. Watching the Garden from a close vantage point and pointing a low-powered rifle scope in their direction were clear examples. On the other hand, Harper was smart enough to find a way inside through joining his staff, a literal Trojan horse.
Very clever.
By joining his staff, Harper provided them with enough information to run his background. Again, careless, depending on his endgame.
Maybe Harper was hired to extract one of the Community members, a private investigator gig of sorts. If so, how did he know the old ma
n? The old man would be putting himself in a very precarious situation to help with an extraction and then left behind to deal with the repercussions on a long-term basis. And with Harper’s military record, he wouldn’t leave someone behind to suffer the brunt of his actions. It was against everything they taught him from the start of boot camp to his ensuing tours of duty.
“What do you think?” James interrupted.
“There’s too many variables to pinpoint an answer to Harper’s appearance,” Popov said.
James remained silent.
“When is Harper scheduled to work?” Popov asked.
“Tomorrow morning, at seven.”
“I want you to increase security this evening, call in a couple extra bodies. Increase patrol on the perimeter from now until the morning shift. If nothing happens between now and then, when he does report for his shift, I want you to assign him a partner for the day. He doesn’t go anywhere without a partner. It doesn’t matter who his partner is,” Popov said and could see James raise a questioning eyebrow. Popov answered the look, “I want you to personally shadow them and keep and eye on Harper.”
“Should I alert any of the staff?”
“No.”
“What about his duty partner tomorrow?”
“No.”
“It’s going to be a long night and day,” James said.
“For both of us.”
45
If the two men had six-shooters in their hands, it would have looked like a showdown from the Old West. Neither man willing to back down.
Henry stood holding two empty backpacks in his hands, both bags close to his chest, like a two-year-old unwilling to give up their toys.
“Do you want these or not?” Henry asked.
“Not if it means you’re coming along,” Chase said.
Henry let out a grunt, “Where are you going to get two backpacks this time of day without going back to Boise?”