by Robert Boren
“This is a small town,” she said. “My ex has a lot of friends, and I took him to the cleaners in the divorce. I’ve got the scarlet X on me now, but it’s worse than that. He’s beaten up three men who have tried to date me. Sent one of them to the hospital.”
“He’s a real bad ass, eh,” Scott said. “Interesting. Think we might get a visit? Love to meet him.”
“Are you crazy? He’s a lot bigger than you.”
“The bigger they are, the harder they fall,” Scott said, chuckling. “I’ll bet he’d be really pissed if he knew that I took his woman and his motor home.”
Cindy got a wicked grin on her face. “You got that right. Maybe I ought to tell him that.”
The water came to a boil, and she broke handfuls of pasta noodles, pushing them into the water.
“Where’s the DMV?” Scott asked. “I need to go register the sale.”
“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “I already mailed the forms in. They’ll send you the registration and a tax bill.”
“Yep, got to get their taxes,” Scott said. “Thanks. That will save me some time.”
“Don’t mention it,” she said. “Where are you guys going?”
“Kansas,” Scott said. “By way of northern Missouri.”
“Oh, you’re taking the bridge on Route 36,” she said. “Heard there’s a bit of a line-up going that direction.”
“Yeah, a lot of the crossings are still closed,” Scott said.
“Going to be around long enough to see me again?” she asked, rubbing up against him.
“You’d like that?” Scott asked.
“Are you kidding?” she asked. “Wish I could go with you guys.”
Scott considered that. Get back in the game. Dump her along the way. Start the trail again.
“You’re considering it, aren’t you?” she said, watching him think.
“I don’t know when we’ll get back here,” he said.
Suddenly there was the sound of breaking glass outside. Cindy whirled around in a panic, rushing to the window.
“Crap, it’s my ex,” she said, a horrified look on her face. “He broke your windshield.” She looked Scott in the eye and froze. He was grinning like a kid in a candy store.
“Your ex did that to the wrong person,” Scott said.
“He’s coming up here. Go hide.”
Scott laughed and rushed into the bedroom. As soon as he got inside he checked his pistol. Full clip. He chuckled as he heard the door break in.
“Where is he?” a man shouted. “I know he’s here. I forced it out of Drew. Little pipsqueak.”
“Get out of here,” Cindy screamed. Scott heard a slap, and somebody falling on the floor. He opened the door and slipped out, watching as the man was getting ready to kick her on the floor.
“Ahem,” Scott said. “Looking for me, redneck?”
The man pivoted, running towards him until he saw the gun.
“Freeze, inbreed,” Scott said.
“Son of a bitch,” he said, staring him down. “I’m gonna take you apart.” Cindy whimpered on the floor behind him.
“No, you’re about to die, redneck,” Scott said, grinning. “You broke into your ex-wife’s house and beat her. You’re dead.”
He trembled, backing up. “You ain’t gonna do nothing.”
“How many beers did you need before you had the guts to come over here, redneck?”
“Screw you.”
“You know,” Scott said. “I don’t know what I enjoy being in more. Your wife or your motor home.”
“You son of a bitch,” he shouted, moving forward in a rage. Scott fired, hitting the man five times in the chest. Cindy screamed as he fell into an expanding pool of blood.
“Perhaps I ought to go,” Scott said. “Before the cops get here. Still want to go?”
“I have to now,” she said, a terrified look in her eyes.
“No, you don’t,” he said. “This is a legal killing, straight up. It’s even got a back story.”
“What?”
“This jerk weed kicked the crap out of Drew before he came over here, then broke down the door and hit you. You’re in the clear.”
“Wouldn’t you be too?” she asked.
“Nah, I’ve got a past you don’t know about. I need to leave.”
“Your car,” she said. “Can you drive it?”
“As far as I’m going, yeah,” he said. “I’ll park it in the storage yard, but I need to leave in the motor home tonight.”
“Okay, then I’ll stay and talk to the cops,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Believe me, the pleasure was mine.” He kissed her and ran out to his car, driving off as he heard the sirens approaching.
Chapter 2 – Foreign Entanglements
Frank and Jane were ready to call it a night. They were shutting off their PCs when Jerry rushed in with Jasmine.
“Turn on the TV!” Jerry shouted.
“What’s going on?” Jane asked. “We in trouble again?”
“No, it’s Europe,” Jerry said.
Frank found the remote and turned the TV on, switching to CNN. There was video split into four sections on the screen. Brussels, Paris, Rome, and Amsterdam, buildings on fire.
“Uh oh,” Frank said. “The General was right.”
“Right about what?” Jerry asked.
“He heard a lot of bad chatter about Europe all of a sudden,” Frank said. He turned the sound up.
“Police and Home Guard facilities have been hit with coordinated attacks in twelve EU states. We have video from four of them on the screen. After the headquarters were taken over, Islamic radicals went on to murder any police or military personnel they could find. These actions were carried out by forces which total several hundred thousand between all the countries. Remaining countries not yet attacked have fortified their police and military facilities.”
“Well, at least there were no nukes,” Jasmine said.
“Countries successfully attacked were Spain, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Italy, and Greece. Attempts were made in Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Austria, and Finland, but were put down by local authorities. In London, the police center was overrun, but an angry mob led by soccer hooligans from nearby pubs secured weapons and dispatched the radicals in that facility. Angry mobs have now gone into the Muslim areas of London and are killing everyone they see wearing traditional Muslim garments. London police are powerless to stop the carnage at this hour.”
Why wasn’t this on the internet?” Jane asked.
“This just happened,” Jasmine said. “It’s probably on there now.”
Frank already had his PC back up. “Yep, it’s all over the web now. Geez.”
George, Heidi, and General Hogan rushed in.
“Good, you guys have the TV on,” the General said. “This happened sooner than I expected.”
“Did the WTO team get away?” Frank asked.
“Yeah,” General Hogan said. “They’re already in San Diego.”
“Those bastards set this in motion,” George said.
“Looks like,” General Hogan said.
“What are we gonna do?” Heidi asked.
George looked over at General Hogan. They both smiled.
“What?” Jerry asked.
“They don’t know we’re on to them, and we’re going to keep it that way, until they show up at Carlsbad Caverns,” General Hogan said. “Then we’ll fry the lot of them.”
“Yeah, cut off the head of the snake,” George said, grinning. “Sure you can keep the bad element in our government from finding out?”
“Yeah,” General Hogan said. “We’ll need to take them out too, and it’s going to be hard. The operatives left don’t have chips in them.”
“Look,” Jerry said, pointing to the screen. “Russian tanks rolling into Finland.”
“They gonna take over?” Frank asked.
“No, they’re probably there at Finland’s request,” General Hogan said. “Most peo
ple don’t understand how close the relationship is between Finland and Russia. Russia better watch themselves, though. They’re liable to get attacked too.”
“Where are these large Islamist forces coming from?” Jerry asked. “We wiped out most of the radicals in the Middle East.”
“The latest estimate we have on Muslims in Europe is about 40 million,” General Hogan said. “That’s up from 18 Million ten years ago.”
“Wow,” Frank said. “Combine that with the falling birthrates of Europeans, and you’ve got a real problem.”
“Most Muslims are moderate, though, right?” Jane asked.
“Let’s say that 90% of them are moderates who don’t want to take over the countries they’ve moved to,” Frank said. “That means you’ve got around four million radicals. Several hundred thousand able-bodied Islamic fighters from that number isn’t much of a stretch. Remember that their population runs much younger than native Europeans at this point.”
“Yes, it really is a numbers game,” General Hogan said. “There weren’t anywhere near those numbers in the USA, so they weren’t able to field a large enough force locally. They had to import.”
“How many do we have here?” Jerry asked.
“Before the war started, about eight million,” General Hogan said. “So assuming 90% are moderate, you’re talking about 800,000 radicals, which leaves you with a much smaller number of able-bodied Islamic fighters.”
“That’s still a lot,” Jerry said.
“Yes, it was more than enough for a good beachhead, and they used it to help get the foreign invaders placed,” the General said.
“So I take it we watch and wait,” Frank said. “We’ll have to figure out a way to track the WTO.”
“I’ve got operatives on that now,” General Hogan said.
“It’ll be interesting to see what our government does,” George said. “There will be pressure to move US troops over there to shore up NATO.”
“Yeah,” General Hogan said. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Troops from Mexico going straight over there, instead of here. We aren’t out of the woods in this country yet.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Jane said.
***
Scott drove up to the storage yard gate and input the code. The gate rattled open, and he drove in quickly, parking next to the motor home. He could see the glow of the iPad through the bunk window as he walked to the coach.
“You back already?” Kerry asked.
“Yeah, and we’ve got to leave tonight.”
“Was she a dumb bitch?” Kerry asked.
“No, actually she was nice,” Scott said, as he got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He pulled out of his parking place and jumped out, moving the station wagon there, and removing the guns he had under the seat. He bounded back into the RV and drove towards the gate. Kerry climbed into the passenger seat as Scott input the code to open the gate. A person stood outside gate, blocking the driveway. He slammed on the brakes.
“Is that the lady you bought this from?” Kerry asked.
“Yeah,” Scott said. He watched as she ran over to the driver’s side window.
“Can I go with you guys?” she asked.
“Why?” Scott asked her. “Did the police get there yet?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Several of my ex’s buddies showed up. I ran out the back door and watched. They dragged his body outside, and were cleaning blood off the floor. I snuck into the garage in back, got my car, and drove over here. I’m parked on the street down there.”
“They’ll never fool the police with that,” Scott said, laughing. “You can’t just mop up blood. They’ll bring the black lights and luminol in and see the drag marks.”
“Yeah, if they’re honest,” she said. “Can I follow you guys?”
“What kind of car do you have?”
“Old CRV,” she said. “It was rigged to tow behind this. The tow bar is still in the back.”
Scott thought about it for a moment. “Okay, follow me. We need to get away from here in a hurry. It’ll be the next place they show up.”
“Okay,” she said. She ran back down the street and was getting into her car when a pickup truck raced over, trying to block her.
“Shit,” Scott said He parked the motor home on the curb and jumped out with his rifle. The men in the pickup saw him right away, and pointed their hand guns at him, but he fired first, killing both of them. Cindy screamed. He ran over and checked the men. One was still alive. “Nice try, jerk weed.” He pointed the rifle at his head and pulled the trigger. Then he jumped into the truck and backed it away from the CRV.
“See, I can’t stay here,” Cindy said from behind the wheel.
“Yeah, you’re right. Follow me.” Scott trotted back to the motor home and drove until he saw a dark stretch of curb long enough to do the hookup. It was down several blocks, on a street to the right. He parked and jumped out of the motor home.
“Kerry, if anybody comes towards us from the front, honk the horn.”
“Okay, Scotty,” Kerry said.
Cindy was getting the CRV in place. “This is how I used to pull it up to connect. I popped the rear door. The tow bar and the wire harness are back there.”
“Great, thanks,” he said, trotting back there.
“It’s easy,” she said, watching him work.
It took about three minutes to get it hooked up.
“Okay, let’s get the hell out of here before they put up roadblocks,” Scott said. They both got into the motor home, and Scott drove off.
“Kerry, why don’t you get up in the bunk and watch for bad guys ahead,” Scott said.
“Sure, Scotty,” he said, climbing up and moving the curtains away from the front window. Cindy got into the passenger seat.
“Thanks for taking me,” she said, still breathing hard from running around.
“No problem,” Scott said. “Glad you got away. Guess this jerk was a beloved character.”
“He’s got more friends,” she said. “Worse ones.”
“We’ll be out of town in a few minutes,” Scott said. “If we’re lucky, the police won’t get a roadblock set up before we slip by.”
“Who’s that station wagon registered to?”
“A dead old lady,” Scott said. “They’ll eventually find my house in Columbus with it, but I’m not going back there anyway.”
“You’re on the lam?” she asked, fear in her eyes.
“Yeah, you might have jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire,” Scott said.
“Why do you say that?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you when it’s time. We need to concentrate on getting out of town. I suspect all of those guys know what this rig looks like.”
“Of course,” she said.
“Any of your ex’s friends in law enforcement?”
“Several. One of the guys you shot was too, but he got kicked off the force,” she said. “Good riddance.”
“He was in the truck?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Real jerk.”
“Why’d he get bounced from the force?”
“Planting evidence, taking bribes, and sexually harassing a rape victim.”
“Geez, what is it with that?” Scott said.
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind,” he said. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Scotty, look up there,” Kerry shouted. There was a road block ahead, just close enough to make out.
“There another way to the highway?”
“Turn right at the next street,” Cindy said. “We’ll go the old way. It’ll take us out of the way quite a few miles.”
“No problem,” Scott said. He took the right turn, hoping that the officers manning the roadblock didn’t see their headlights.
“It’s nice and dark back here,” Cindy said. “Farmland, mostly.”
They drove along for a few minutes. Then Scott saw headlights in the rear view mirror.
/> “Shit, cops,” he said, pulling his .44 mag pistol out of the side pocket of the door as the red light came on.
“You know how to shoot a pistol?” he asked.
Cindy’s eyes got wide. “Yeah.”
“There’s one in the side pocket. It’s a .357 revolver, loaded. Careful, the safety isn’t on. Be ready in case we get an officer on both sides.”
“We’re going to shoot the police?” she asked.
“Like I said, out of the frying pan and into the fire. You with me?”
“Yes,” she said, looking terrified but excited. “I hate these creeps. My ex should have been in jail for what he’s done, and they’ve been helping him. Screw them.”
“Good,” Scott said. “Here they come. One on each side. Hey Kerry, keep quiet up there, okay?”
“Okay, Scotty,” he said, voice trembling.
“License and registration please,” the cop said Scott. He glanced in his right mirror, waiting for the other officer to get to the passenger window. When he got there, Scott shot the first officer in the face. Then he heard a bang on his right.
“Got the son of a bitch,” Cindy shouted.
“Where did you hit him?” Scott asked.
“Chest,” she said.
“Okay,” Scott said. “I’ll go finish him if he’s still alive.”
“How about yours?” she asked.
“His brains are all over the road.”
“I’ll take this one,” she said, pointing her .357 out the window and pulling the trigger. Scott raced around, seeing officer’s face caved in and bloody.
“Damn, baby, you can shoot,” Scott said.
“My daddy taught me.”
“You know either one of these guys?”
“Yeah, the one on your side was Murdoch,” she said. “He was one of the worse.”
“What did his voice sound like?” Scott asked. She looked over at him and grinned. “I know what you’re gonna do. He had the typical Midwest drawl. Higher pitched than you’d expect from a guy who looks like that. Girlfriend’s name is Gretchen.”
“Perfect,” Scott said. He trotted back to the police cruiser. There was a scratchy voice on the radio asking for status. Scott picked up the microphone. “Murdoch here. Suspects both dead. Send the meat wagon.”