by John O'Brien
Our binoculars pick up a convoy of school buses heading towards the school from the direction of the fields and turn into the lot. We note the time and count twenty-four armed guards exiting first followed by sixty-three people. They are followed by another guard contingent who shepherd them into various buildings. From the gym and classroom buildings, another group of people appear in the open area on our side. It takes on the appearance of a prison yard with people in the middle milling around and guards on the perimeter keeping a close eye.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but did they just separate the males from the females after they exited the buses and herd them into different buildings?” I ask Greg while still observing.
“That’s what it looked like to me. They took the males into that roundish building and the females into that long, rectangular building,” he answers.
“That roundish building is the gym and pool. I believe that rectangular building is where most of the classrooms are. So, they appear to segregate genders? Interesting,” I comment. Thirty minutes later, the ones gathered outside are guided into what used to be the school lunch room along with the other prisoners from all of the buildings.
“Guess it’s dinner time,” I say.
“Guess so,” Greg responds.
Following their apparent dinner, everyone is herded into the gym for a short time and then the females are brought back to the classrooms. There is still no sign of the kids or Gonzalez. The tower guards are exchanged and, close to the sun disappearing over the hills behind us, the rest of the wooden towers are manned. The faint sound of generators reach us and the perimeter lights turn on shortly thereafter.
“Okay, time for us to get our own bite to eat and close up shop,” I say standing and brushing off pine needles and dirt.
“Sounds good,” Greg says rising as well. “We’ll compare notes and times with any radio calls.”
I pull in the outlying guards. We gulp down our meager dinner while taking a look at the radio logs and compare them with our observations. We remove the tarp from the windows and the night shift takes over, continuing to watch the camp from the Humvee windows. We gathered a fair bit during the afternoon but not enough for any pattern to emerge. The night should prove interesting though. I’m almost eager to see what happens. This will make a huge difference in what we do. If we have to go in during the day, I’m thinking we’ll take the camp first and wait for the buses. With the guards so close to the prisoners, that will be a risky proposition to say the least. At no time did I notice the guards separate, which means there is a high potential for collateral casualties. Maybe we’ll have to take the field out first or a two-pronged attack. I’m just not sure at this point.
I stay up with the night shift to observe the night activities. We parked the Humvee so that we can see into the camp from the cab and laid branches across the top to disguise the silhouette. The vehicles are sealed in case any night runners appear in our location. If we have to, we’ll start up and leave. Night descends slowly, blanketing the area first in the blue shadows of dusk as the sun vanishes behind the hills, casting reds and oranges in the sky, deepening to the brilliant orange-red of the sunset as the sun says its goodbye to the day. Darkness envelopes us as our time of relative safety ends. With little surrounding light to blanket them, the stars twinkle brightly overhead against the velvet sky.
The camp itself is bathed in the same darkness as ourselves. I see the gray outlines of the buildings within a field of surrounding blackness. The perimeter lights cast arcs of light outward to a considerable distance, illuminating the fence and surrounding area in a crisp silver-white light. The lights leave no areas of darkness except a small area on the west side where the trees have been cut back. A small gap in the light protection exists. Not a big one and more of a gray shading than complete darkness, but a gap nonetheless. However, spotlights, either handheld or mounted, stab out into the area from the towers. Their lights venture further into the darkness than the perimeter lights reach.
Several very faint shrieks reach our location, seeming to come from further to the south towards town. The night runners are out. This is the part that I’m most interested in seeing. The lights stabbing out from the camp won’t harm the night runners, at least that I know of. Perhaps it’s the brightness of the lights that keeps them away although our lights in the buildings didn’t seem to bother them in the least. I focus my binoculars on the area just outside of where the perimeter light boundary is.
“There. Can you see them? Just on the outside of where the lights reach,” I ask Henderson who is sitting beside me monitoring the area as well.
“I don’t see a thing, sir,” he answers.
“They’re right there. Five night runners milling just outside of where the light ends on the south end,” I say directing him to where the night runners are.
“Still don’t see a thing,” he says as he reaches for the night vision binoculars by his side.
I don’t understand why he can’t see them. I distinctly see their gray shapes moving back and forth in a parking lot across the street from the camp. I certainly can’t see them with the same clarity that daylight affords, but their gray outlines are clearly visible.
“Oh, yeah, there they are,” he says focusing the night vision binoculars on the area I indicated. “How in the world could you see that?”
“They’re faint but pretty clear,” I answer wondering how bad his night vision has to be not to see them.
I am thinking the light beaming from the stars overhead is enhancing the light in the area. I grab for another pair of night vision binoculars and the area becomes even clearer through the greenish glow. I don’t know why the night runners aren’t attacking the fence as I’ve witnessed them do many times before. They seemed to be relentless in their attacks but here they are just milling around. Occasionally one bends forward with its mouths agape, apparently issuing its all too well-known shrieks; the shrieks again faintly reach our ears moments later.
One of the night runners steps into the light. A spotlight immediately focuses on it and a flicker of light emits from the closest tower. The night runner is flung back into the darkness and the sound of the shot echoes a split second later. The other night runners turn and flee, vanishing behind a building as they run further into a residential area of town. My thought is that the night runners have learned not to go close to the camp at night and prefer to find easier meals elsewhere. An occasional shriek resounds through the night but is not as prevalent as I would have thought. I am thinking that the people in the encampment may have cleared out an area and have been alert enough to take on any who enter into the light at night. I am also guessing there weren’t that many night runners here to begin with and the people in camp haven’t seen the hordes we have witnessed. If night runners were here in the numbers we have seen, those fences and towers would have quickly been overwhelmed.
The fact that the night runners are staying away from the camp may be both a benefit and a danger to us. The benefit is that we may still be able to conduct a night operation against the compound. However, if there are still a lot of night runners in the area, they may be venturing out into the country for food which means possibly out our way. The fact that there is some loitering in the shadows on the edge of the light may make that a danger zone if we try to infiltrate through that area. I’ll have to see what happens on subsequent nights as a one-time thing doesn’t mean a pattern. The night runners coming close to the camp may just be an out-of-the-ordinary event. We listen to the radios as the towers check in seemingly every hour on the hour. The only exception to this pattern of radio calls is when one of the towers reports the sighting and shooting.
I turn it over to the night shift and head into the back to rest. My headache has returned but is only a light throbbing. I lay back but rest doesn’t come easy due to my anxiety and the night passes with only restless bouts of sleep. By morning, my headache has diminished and the faint glow of the dawn appears in the eastern sky
. My back is sore from sleeping on the hard metal of the Humvee. I’m way too old for this, I think making sure the area is clear and slowly exit. I work the kinks out as the sun begins to crest the mountains sending rays of light streaming through the gaps in the trees. Wisps of mist rise from the plants and forest floor where the light strikes. Summer is ending and fall is near.
I check in with the night shift to find they really have nothing out of the ordinary to report. The pattern of check-in calls from the towers holds to form and there is no report of additional night runner sightings. They did hear faint shrieks throughout the night but nothing emerged within their range of visibility. I grab a quick bite and down it with a swig of water. Throwing the tarp over the vehicle once again, I head with Greg over to our previous observation point, settling onto the ground. The chill of the ground seeps through my shirt causing an occasional shiver to run up my spine.
With the coming of the sun, we observe people being guided into the old lunch room. The pattern of the morning resembles the events of last evening except in an almost reverse order. Lunch room, gym, and then they are herded onto buses. The buses exit through the gate and disappear eastward. I don’t see any of the kids or Gonzalez boarding the vehicles which adds to my worry. If I could at least see them, I would know they were alright. Others are brought outside into the fields in the same manner as last night.
Peering through the magnified lens of the binoculars, I see Robert, in black shirts and pants, gathered with others in the open field by the gym. Taking another look, I see Bri, Michelle, and Gonzalez. My anxiety is relieved to a great degree seeing them whole and what I assume to be okay. Robert walks with a limp when they move around and Gonzalez rubs her shoulder and head from time to time. A guard heads over to their group and, after what I assume is a discussion of some sort, they separate. The sight makes me want to head down right now and get them but sanity prevails. At least I know they are alive. I watch as they are led back into the buildings after about an hour outside.
“I’m going back to get some rest. Looks like I may be a little busy tonight,” I say to Greg lying by my side.
“Planning a little excursion are we?” Greg asks setting his binoculars down and looking my way.
“Perhaps,” I answer.
“Want some company?” He asks.
“Nah, I’ll be fine. But thanks. Besides, I need you here just in case,” I reply.
“Lynn’s going to piss herself when she finds out,” he says with a little chuckle.
“She’ll only find out if someone tells her,” I respond.
“Well, if you don’t make it back, she’s gonna kinda know,” he states.
“If that happens, then I won’t have to worry about it,” I say mimicking his laugh. “I’m not going to do anything rash. I just want to get a look and see what their setup is inside.”
“Yeah, heading inside an armed camp alone and venturing into possibly secured buildings isn’t doing anything rash,” Greg says turning back to his binoculars. “Just kidding by the way. I totally get it.”
“What about the night runners?” He asks turning back to me once again.
“Well, I figure I’ll edge up to the tree line to the west just on the edge of the demarcation area of the lights at dusk and wait for dark before moving in. I’m hoping there won’t be any activity that close. If they show up and they aren’t too great in numbers, I’ll hopefully be able to take care of them. If there are too many, I’ll head into the lights and hope the guards help out. Then you’ll be rescuing five instead of four,” I answer, still wary of my plan.
“Thought this one through all the way, have you?” He asks rhetorically with another laugh.
“Maybe not so much,” I answer with a quiet laugh.
I pat him on the shoulder and tell him I’ll send someone to take my place. Greg nods and I crawl backwards until my silhouette won’t be seen from below. The closest Humvee is just behind and I send another Echo Team member up to Greg. Before lying down on the ground warmed by the sun reaching through the trees, I gather items I’ll need for my evening excursion. Besides ensuring my mags are loaded with ammo and dumping the shell in the chamber — night moisture and cold can warp the round inside the chamber — I stack my night vision goggles, a fiberscope, a chemical spray designed for breaching fences, and a few scraps of metal wire. I also gather some of the scent eliminator gathered from Cabela’s. I won’t be able to make a fire to eliminate my odor here so it will have to do.
With my things for the evening gathered, I stretch out on the soft fir needles of the forest floor. My mind does its normal pre-operation thought patterns of visualizing scenarios that I will likely encounter and my reaction to them; or how to avoid them altogether. A ray of sun slanting through a gap in the trees strikes my face. My eyes are closed but I feel the warmth. With thoughts racing through my mind, I can also hear the occasional movement of the team members and forest creatures around. A “cawing” of a crow, most likely resting on one of the branches close by, echoes throughout our little hideout. An infrequent, quiet burst from the radios, as someone from the camp or fields makes a call, intrudes on the stillness of this late summer day.
As the day slowly passes, I drift in and out of sleep or actually more of a deep form of relaxation. The area is quiet and has the feel of a slow, lazy day. I could just soak up the warmth if it were any other situation. I still feel the knot in my stomach making me restless. I want to do something just to ease some of the tension and make the day go by faster but I know that resting, even if I don’t get a lot of sleep, is for the best.
The shadows of the trees and power line structures slowly transit across the ground as the sun moves across the blue sky and eventually fall to the east. I rise and brush the dirt and needles off. It will take me a couple of hours to make my way down to the tree line. Moving slowly and in the deepest cover I can find will help keep me from being spotted. Plus, I want to give myself some additional time. We haven’t spotted patrols heading out from the camp but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. The only thing we observed leaving the compound, besides the buses, is the red truck heading out of the gate just after everyone was shepherded back in. Arriving too early will also increase my chances of being spotted so I may have to lie up a short distance away and wait for dusk.
I am eager to be off and I gather my gear. I already notified the team members of my plan which they seemed to take in stride. I edge up to Greg to see if anything of interest transpired while I was resting.
“Nothing much,” he answers. “The group came out again around noon and went back in an hour later. Other than that, it’s been pretty quiet.”
“Okay, I’m off. I’ll be back a little after dawn,” I tell him. “I want to be out of the camp prior to dawn and lay up again until the sun breaks.”
“Sounds good, Jack, we’ll be waiting for you. Give a ring if you need any help and good luck,” he says.
Giving a last minute check, I head off to the north. I don’t want to head toward the camp directly from our position so I plan to circle around to the north. I’ll then cut over to the spot I identified on the west side of the fence. This will take me north of the Wal-Mart and enable me to circumvent it. The greatest risk will be crossing the highway as it is wide open at that point. I’ll have to see what it’s like when I get there and may have to lie up and cross close to dusk. The sun will be in anyone’s eyes looking out from the camp so that is in my favor.
I walk slowly to the north keeping just below the hilltop. The air is still beneath the tall trees. It isn’t old growth timber but they do stretch a ways toward the blue sky peeking through the tops. The silence is encompassing. An occasional flurry of activity, as something scampers through the brush at my approach, is all that accompanies me. The smell of the firs and cedars releasing their scents reminds me of my love of the woods and outdoors. The ground is dry so I take care of my footfalls in order not to snap branches under my boots. The hill ends and begins a descent to
wards flatter land on the same level with the camp and surrounding area.
Beginning my descent, one of the team members on guard waves from behind a tree where he is keeping watch on the dirt road further up from our camp. I wave back and continue down the hill. Passing the outpost, I slow and begin to take my time on the descent. I move a few yards and pause, listening and watching the surrounding area for any sound or movement. The sun heads further down toward the horizon to my left. The warmth it sent down during the day is trapped beneath the trees causing beads of sweat to form on my brow and trickle down. Near me, a couple of birds flit from branch to branch as if following or leading me; they wait until I am adjacent to them and then take off to the next branch a few trees ahead. I am sure they are trying to lead me away from their nest but it’s nice to think they are just keeping me company. I see the dirt road following the power lines through occasional gaps in the trees and then it disappears altogether as it and I take different paths.
I arrive at a point I think is adjacent to where I want to be and start a zigzag path keeping in the general direction of the camp. This allows me to pause at each turn and observe my back trail. If I had others with me, the last person would erase the signs of our passing. Solo, it would divert my attention from observing as I move and it would take forever to reach my location. I come across a few game trails but nothing anyone has used. No tracks or sign of passage so I’m reasonably sure the people from the camp don’t come out this way but if they hunt during the day for game, anything is possible.
The trees thin and I see clear sunlight where they end just prior to the highway. I ease up to a position just inside the trees and glass the area to my front on the other side. It appears much the same as on mine; a stretch of tall grass next to the two-lane highway. I search for some time looking for movement. If they are watching this part of the road, they are keeping well-hidden. It is only a little over three hundred yards to the camp perimeter from here so I decide to wait for the sun to get a little lower in the sky before venturing further.