by Warren Ray
Winters turned back to where Laney was supposed to be. “Where’s Laney?”
Collette looked and shook her head.
“Oh, hells bells,” said Winters, knowing she was jumping into the fray without thinking. “Better go do your naked thing and help her.”
Collette’s eyes grew big and then took off around to the front.
Winters dashed around the other side of the house and hid behind bushes to look at the situation. Sure enough, Laney was screaming at Billy to let her friend go. He was holding onto Finley and a .380 pistol, small but still deadly.
“I started the fire you Jackass.”
“What the hell, Laney? Where’s Winters?”
“I don’t know where he is. You let go of her.”
Gamble jerked his head around like a lizard, not sure what to do next, while Finley looked surprisingly calm despite the redness on her cheeks from being smacked around. Seeing Laney, she must have known her rescue was imminent. Collette ran up to Laney and joined in the yelling at Gamble. The man still had the gun on Finley, but he was discombobulated as the two girls continued to yell at him. Winters noticed Laney had dropped the AR-15, which was smart on her part. It allowed Gamble to not be afraid of them and let his guard down a notch. If he was going to shoot them he would have already done so, or maybe he thought pointing the gun at them would get him shot.
Winters waited for the right moment before dashing across the driveway to hide behind the pickup truck. Gamble was on the walkway and backed up toward the driveway when Finley’s mom and sister came around the corner. Now, Gamble, had four girls screaming at him. He was frustrated and tried to shut them up as he kept moving towards the truck.
“She’s coming with me,” yelled Gamble.
Winters crawled around the back of the truck and kept low behind the bumper. Gamble fumbled for the door handle while holding onto Finley by her ponytail. He started to pull it open but his hand slipped.
This was Winters’ best chance. He put the rifle in single-shot mode, sprung up and came around the back of the truck with the M-4 to his shoulder. Gamble reacted by trying to shove Finley in front of him. Winters squeezed the trigger. The round hit him in the shoulder twisting his body around. The motion pulled Finley with him as he lost his balance. Winters tried lining up another shot but didn’t have one. Gamble fell to the ground and Finley bounced off his chest and onto the cement. The .380 pistol fired and Finley screamed out in pain just as Winters put another round into Gamble’s head.
Chapter 38
Detroit Michigan
After getting word from his right-hand man, Vatter pushed the speaker option on his desk phone and said hello.
“This is Sergeant Major Wilson with the Sarnia Police.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I have four members of the Shadow Patriots in custody and wanted to inquire about the reward.”
Vatter found the question curious. “Are you representing your government?”
There was a long silence.
“No. This would be a private transaction.”
A smirk broke across Vatter’s face and he said to himself, “My kind of people.”
“Are you interested?” asked Wilson.
“Sergeant Major, I am most interested and yes, this can be kept private. Tell me, who do you have there?” asked Vatter as he grabbed a pencil.
“Scott Scarborough, David Burns, Joshua Bassett, and Nick Nordell.”
Vatter’s eyebrows rose when he heard Bassett’s name and didn’t have to look to know who he was. He was currently listed as AWOL and a traitor. Vatter reached over and pulled open a desk drawer to get the sheets on the other three. He found Scarborough and Burns but had nothing on Nordell.
“Well?” asked an impatient Wilson.
“So, you don’t have Winters, huh?” asked a disappointed Vatter.
“No, but from what I can gather, Scarborough is in charge.”
This was an interesting bit of news making Vatter think perhaps Winters was dead, that he might have caught a bullet the other night. “Why do you have them?”
“They were here to get supplies.”
Vatter put his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his chair learning Jackson was desperate for food. If Mordulfah was smart he’d just starve them out, but the man was impatient and wouldn’t wait that long. He’d rather waste more of his men in a big battle. Regardless, these four would be a nice present to offer Mordulfah. He determined the reward amounts to be thirty thousand for the three. He didn’t know who this Nordell was but figured he could get another ten grand for him.
“From what I can see, you’ve got twenty-five thousand coming to you.”
“Shouldn’t it be forty? I’ve got four of them and they are supposedly worth ten each.”
“I’m paying you out of my own pocket, so I need a cut. Besides, I’ve no idea who this Nordell guy is, for all I know he’s just along for the ride.”
“No, not this guy. He’s a thirty-year retired Marine. Hell, he’s a Gunnery Sergeant, so he’s not just along for the ride.”
Vatter let out a chuckle. He liked this guy and admired his tenacity. “Look, I’m taking a chance on him. I’ll raise it to thirty-thousand total.”
After a few moments of silence, Wilson agreed.
Vatter smiled because he just made ten grand. Even better was he had enough to pay for it with his own money. He wouldn’t have to go to Mordulfah and beg for the cash or wait for Washington to send it. He’d get his money back plus the additional ten grand and get credit for it. No one would be the wiser that some cop in Canada did the actual work.
Vatter got the particulars from Wilson as to the time and place to pick up the prisoners. They’d have to make a trip into Canada, which wouldn’t be too much of a problem. His station wasn’t on the best of terms with the border guards in Detroit so they’d have to drive up to Port Huron and cross there. Wilson guaranteed he’d have the border guards bribed so they could cross over unabated. Vatter liked the sound of this and hoped there might be more business they could conduct in the future. They were always in need of liquor and it wasn’t always easy to come by. The big crash affected liquor supplies even in Canada, where you could only buy so much of the stuff unless you were a bar or restaurant. Everyone else had to wait in line with ration coupons, which of course, was the perfect recipe for the black market.
Detroit still had plenty of money floating around to those who had the right product to sell. Since he was the station commander, not only did he know the right people, but he controlled the market. His guys hired the gangs to row across the river to rob the good citizens of Canada. They didn’t always succeed, which is why he was always on the lookout for other opportunities.
He looked at the reward sheets again and was extremely pleased that he was about to get his hands on Corporal Bassett. This idiot was a traitor, and Major Green would love to get him back. He should be able to negotiate a better deal than the ten grand they were offering. After all, he was an active member of the United States Army and an embarrassment to that fine institution. He couldn’t wait to have them in his custody. He’d torture them all before turning them over. He wanted to know what was going on in Jackson and just how desperate the food situation was. He’d also find out what the hell had happened to Nick Posey. He hadn’t heard anything from him since Sunday. His last transmission was that the rebels were going to storm the police station. Vatter let out a scoff, “That was obviously a decoy.” They either forced him to do it, or fed him the lie first, and then busted him out afterward. A shiver shot through Vatter thinking about what they would do to him if he were caught. After all, he was the one who ordered the raid on the hospital.
Vatter started to put the reward sheets away but paused on the sheet for Cole Winters.
“One hundred thousand dollars alive or seventy-five thousand dead.” Vatter wanted nothing more than to put a bullet in his head, but a hundred was better than seventy-five. That’d go a lo
ng way toward his retirement fund, and it would be a personal victory to put him in the ground. With all the trouble he’s caused with his men, he was more than an annoyance. Somehow, he kept the party house from being reopened, which was a promise to the men he had yet to fulfill.
Vatter leaned back in his chair thinking about the conversation he’d just had. The man said Scarborough was in charge. Was Winters dead? Or, was this just some bluster from Wilson? Either way, he’d find out once he had these men in custody. It would be a shame if the man was dead and there wasn’t a body. Need a body to collect a reward.
Vatter got up and walked out of the office. He gathered his men together to tell them the good news.
Chapter 39
Sabine Iowa
Finley cried out in pain as blood leaked from her thigh and soaked her jeans. Winters turned her over and found blood oozing from the exit wound.
Everyone rushed over just as Winters pulled out his knife to tear open the jeans.
“Finley, Finley, you okay?” cried her mom.
Winters thought it was a strange question to ask a wounded person, but then, what else would you say.
“Mommy, I’ve been shot, am I, am I gonna die?”
“No, honey, you’re going to be okay,” answered her mom in an unconvincing tone.
Winters turned to Finley. “Hey, hey, you’re gonna be okay, alright? Just hang in there.”
“You sure?” she asked through watery eyes.
“Yes, you’re going be fine. Although, you’re gonna have a couple of badass scars.”
“I am?”
Winters nodded as he tore open her jeans. He looked at the bleeding and was thankful it was a full metal jacket bullet rather than a hollow point; otherwise, he’d be dealing with something much worse. He tore off his jacket and removed his shirt leaving him in a black t-shirt. He then ripped the shirt in half and pressed it against the exit wound.
“Can you keep pressure on this?” Winters asked the mom.
“Yes, I can do that.”
“What’s your name?”
“Debbie.”
“Okay, Debbie, just keep pressing down on it.”
He placed the other half of the shirt on the back wound and instructed Debbie to press them together.
Winters stood up. “Laney, there’s a first aid kit in the van behind the driver’s seat. Can you get that?”
She nodded and took off running.
Winters turned toward the house, which was now engulfed in flames. He needed to move Finley away from the smoke, which was starting to come toward them. He stepped over Finley and fished through Gamble’s pockets finding the keys to the truck. He needed to get Finley some medical attention to make sure there were no nicked veins. Thoughts of Cara blazed through his mind as the scene was very reminiscent of the other night and it gave him pause. He had watched his daughter being stabbed and wasn’t able to do anything to save her life. He shook his head and yelled at himself. “Damned if he was going to lose another one.”
“Collette, any doctors or nurses around?”
“Yeah, my mom.”
Winters jerked his head back in surprise.
“I know, I know, but she used to be a paramedic.”
“But, she’ll help though, right?”
“Yes, of course, I mean, we’re never gonna hear the end of it.”
Winters put his arm around her shoulders. “It’ll be worth the price.”
Laney came running back, out of breath and handed Winters the first aid kit. He applied fresh bandages and taped the leg up best he could before picking her up and placing her in the bed of the truck. He had Collette drive the truck while Debbie sat in back with her daughter.
Winters hustled back to the police van, and they were at the hideout within fifteen minutes. Collette beeped the horn as she pulled into the driveway and then ran inside yelling for her mom.
Winters carried Finley inside where Stacy waited.
“What happened?” asked Stacy.
“She caught a bullet.”
“You let this little thing get shot?”
Winters fought to remain calm. “Couldn’t be helped.”
Stacy ordered Collette to go get her medical bag from home. She then ordered Winters to carry Finley into the bedroom and then to leave the room.
Finley grabbed Winters around the neck as he carried her. “Thank you, Cole. Thank you for everything.”
“Your welcome, Wannabe,” smiled Winters.
“Hey, you…”
“Just kidding. You did good tonight,” said Winters, laying her down on the bed.
“Really?”
“Yep, all three of you did.”
“Out you go,” ordered Stacy, waving her hand.
Winters left the room and walked into the kitchen where Ashley had begun boiling hot water for Finley and the freeze-dried food she pulled out for breakfast.
“What happened?” asked Ashley, who shuffled her daughter, Kaitlyn, out of the room.
Winters briefed her on the night’s events.
“So, they’re really all dead?”
“Every one of ‘em.”
“I can’t believe it, I mean, I just can’t believe you did it.”
“Yeah, well, neither can I, at least not in one night.”
“So, what now?”
“What do you mean?”
“What are you gonna do now?”
Winters leaned back in the kitchen chair thinking about the question. He hadn’t had time to give it much thought. He came here to bury Cara and wasn’t sure what he was gonna do then. Now that he had taken care of this bad element, it gave him a different perspective on things. He let out a yawn and realized this wasn’t the time to come up with an answer. He was too tired and needed sleep before he did anything else.
“I need to sleep.”
“You’ll have to take the bedroom down the hall. Blair is still passed out in the other and Finley has the master bedroom.”
“Where did they store all the food?”
“At the Community Bank,” answered Ashley.
“Really? The bank? Is it in the vault?”
“Yeah, but it’s not locked. It had the best security doors though.”
“Okay, well, we’ll need to get in there and pass it all out.”
Ashley placed a bowl of oatmeal on the table, and Winters devoured it before getting up and retiring to the bedroom. Two single beds sat on either side of the room. His friend, Paul, had twin boys who had shared this room until they finished high school. The room still had multiple trophies and medals sitting on the dressers. Both boys competed in track and field through high school and now served in the Army. He remembered Paul was excited about joining them in the war effort. Winters shook his head in disgust because Paul was not with them, but lying dead in a mass grave.
He sat down on the bed and took off his boots. He was about to stretch out when he heard a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
Laney opened the door. “Hey, can I take the other bed?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks. Mom’s staying to help with Finley and I don’t wanna, like, go home alone.”
“I don’t blame ya.”
Laney took her sneakers off and slipped between the sheets. “Will Finley be okay?”
“She’ll be fine,” said Winters not knowing for sure.
“You’re not, like, mad at me are you?”
“Why would I be mad at you?
“Uhm, you know, for doing what I did with Billy.”
“Not at all.”
“Well, I mean, it got her shot.”
“Laney, that’s not your fault. If anything you saved her life, there’s no telling where he would have taken her.”
“Seriously?”
“Oh, absolutely. Laney, you were amazing tonight.”
She leaned up and rested her head on her fist. “Thanks. It’s just, uh, you know, like, a lot happened tonight and, um, I mean, it’s just so much, l
ike, I just don’t know what to think about all of it.”
“I know how you feel and it’s perfectly natural to feel that way, but Laney, just know that they all deserved it. There was no other way of stopping them, okay? You did nothing wrong. Again, you were amazing. All of you girls were. I couldn’t have stopped those animals without your help.”
Laney smiled and nodded her head. “Thanks, I just needed to hear it.”
“Sweet dreams kiddo and remember, you no longer have to work.”
She let out a loud “YES!” as she flopped on her back while moving her limbs back and forth like she was making a snow angel on the sheets before curling up on her side.
Winters heard her fall asleep within minutes as she started to snore in a low tone. He couldn’t help but be impressed by what she and the others had done tonight. He just hoped they’d be able to come to terms with their involvement.
Chapter 40
Sarnia Ontario
Sergeant Major Thomas Wilson put the phone back in its cradle. The phone call to Detroit had gone as well as he had expected. He’d been a cop for seventeen years, which had resulted in a failed marriage, child support for two teenagers, high blood pressure, and a stomach ulcer. He had just celebrated his fortieth birthday and he looked more like fifty. His receding hairline kept growing, as did the bags under his eyes.
The last year had been an especially hectic one for the town of Sarnia as it was just across the river from Port Huron, Michigan. A bridge connected the two towns and kept them busy with refugees. The Canadian government’s policy was one of compassion and all who were in need were welcomed. They erected temporary housing and supplied the extra food needed to feed all the additional mouths. For the most part, things ran smoothly, but with so many refugees, there was bound to be trouble. Justifiably, as America fell into ruin and the trouble moved north, the department decided everyone needed everyone to work overtime. He wasn’t thrilled with having to work the extra hours as it robbed him of the little personal time he had left.
While he didn’t necessarily agree with his government’s policy of compassion, it was his job to deal with it and the ungrateful refugees who were included in the package. It ran from theft to fighting, raping, and an occasional homicide. The troublemakers were mostly younger individuals and some were not necessarily refugees. They would come across the river to do their thing before skipping back across. For the most part, this was happening down in the Detroit area, but Sarnia had its fair share. Now he had an opportunity to be paid for all his additional efforts.