The Jakarta Pandemic

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The Jakarta Pandemic Page 43

by Steven Konkoly


  “I know, and pretty soon, they’ll be gone. I love you. Keep in touch, but remember, Charlie has one of the spares, so no juicy stuff. Once we start shooting, stay off unless there’s an emergency at the house. Charlie and I will need to talk. See you in a few hours.” He stepped through the open back doorway into the backyard.

  He closed the door and watched Kate through the window panes, heard the lock click and waved goodbye to her. He glanced up at the dingy, shapeless low ceiling of ashen gray clouds before starting to walk. As he trudged forward, he looked over his shoulder to the west and couldn’t determine the sun’s azimuth or location on the horizon. The cloud cover was impenetrable.

  He figured that he had about ten to fifteen minutes of dusk left before the darkness began to envelop the neighborhood. In less than an hour, the block would be pitch black, and he guessed that the Mansons would make their move soon after that. At least he hoped they would; he wasn’t sure how long he could last out in the snowstorm.

  He pushed forward in the snow, following the same path he’d traveled during his outbound morning trek. His footprints were still visible in the snow near the back of his property where the yard sunk into a shallow drainage area that ran along the entire property line and connected all of the yards on his side with a water retention area beyond the McCarthys’ backyard. He planned to use it to ensure that he arrived at his preselected position undetected.

  He jumped into the ditch and walked through the shallow gulley. The snow was slightly deeper here, and he slogged forward, watching the corner of his house. A few more steps and he would briefly enter line of sight with the Murrays’ house. After the morning’s encounter, he figured that the Mansons might be keeping watch on his house. He lowered his silhouette and nudged forward until he was clear of the gap.

  He continued on, alert, but more interested in getting to his position than remaining stealthy. Charlie had been watching the Murrays’ house for the past hour, looking for any signs of activity. If the Mansons were to leave the house from the front, he’d definitely see them, but Alex doubted they’d use any of the front doors, sure they’d sneak out the back like before, and Charlie would hopefully see them move between the houses. Charlie was perched at the window closest to the Murrays’, watching with binoculars and an 8X wide angle night vision spotting scope. His other night vision device, a 10X scope, was attached to a hunting rifle; the same rifle Charlie planned to use tonight.

  Alex’s AR-15 assault rifle was slung across his back. He had attached an Aimpoint scope to the rifle early in the afternoon while preparing the equipment needed for their night ambush. The scope provided an illuminated red dot for quickly engaging targets. He’d used a similar system in Iraq. His civilian version did not provide night vision capability, so he wouldn’t be looking at a convenient green image like Charlie. He’d have to first pick out targets with his hand-held night vision scope, and then somehow find them with the Aimpoint scope. Not optimal, but he’d done this under worse conditions. Despite the profound darkness, he figured that the Mansons should provide adequate silhouettes for a conventional rifle scope. Besides, the plan called for Charlie to do most of the accurate shooting.

  He worked his way across the Thompsons’ backyard. Their house looked empty, but he knew it was occupied. A few days before, he’d seen James Thompson wander across the backyard and head into the woods carrying a shovel. Alex had concluded that he was looking for a burial site in the woods behind their property. James had returned several minutes later, too quickly to have made any serious progress digging. At this point in December, Alex didn’t think it was feasible to dig a proper grave without heavy equipment.

  He paused and searched the woods to his right. The conservation woodland located at the eastern corner of the neighborhood contained a path that connected with Hewitt Park and hundreds of additional acres of protected forest and trails. He saw Jim’s lone footsteps in the snow, approaching a trailhead that disappeared into a tangle of mature evergreens, oaks and birch. He turned back to the path he was following, suddenly buffeted by a strong gust of wind, and noticed an increase in the snowstorm’s intensity.

  This is going to be a long night.

  Aside from a small area of exposed skin below his ski goggles and above his mouth, Alex didn’t feel the effects of the bitter northerly wind. He wore two layers of full-length thermal underwear, covered by two pairs of expensive snowboarding pants, two layers of thick wool socks, a wool turtleneck sweater, and his favorite blue weatherproof winter jacket.

  He’d ditched his combat boots for the best pair of storm boots sold by L.L. Bean, and his hands were covered by wool inserts and the warmest waterproof gloves he had ever owned. His head was covered by the jacket’s oversized hood, under which his head was sheathed in a black balaclava under a standard black wool watch cap. Standing in the garage earlier, he’d felt his core temperature rising rapidly and couldn’t wait to get out into the cold.

  Even now, his ensemble felt like overkill for the conditions, but he knew that as the sun set and the storm picked up, conditions outside would deteriorate rapidly. Lying prone in a static position would only make matters worse. The wind and cold, he knew, had a way of penetrating even the best materials when you are motionless.

  He continued across the Thompsons’ yard, paying the same caution when crossing between the Thompsons’ and Carters’ property. Peeking above the top of the ditch, he saw that the Murrays’ house was completely obscured by the Thorntons’. He kept moving, and as he crossed the Carters’ property, he heard his walkie-talkie crackle to life, the voice muffled in his front jacket pocket. He stopped, and his heart raced as he fumbled to open the pocket zipper. He found the slit, pulled the walkie out of the pocket, and pushed the talk button.

  “This is Alex, say again, over.”

  “It’s just me, Kate. I can’t see you anymore. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” her voice crackled over the speaker.

  Are you kidding me?

  “I’m fine. I’m almost past the Carters’. Let me get in position, and we can chat a little. All right?”

  “Okay. How is it out there?” she persisted.

  “Miserable. I’ll probably end up pouring the hot tea over my head in a few minutes. Could you stoke up the wood-burning stove really good? I’m going to be frozen when this is over. Talk to you later, out.”

  “Love you,” she added.

  “Love you too, out.”

  Out means out.

  Alex hooked the walkie onto the shoulder strap of his backpack and pressed on, seeing his first choice of firing positions: the McCarthys’ play set. Darkness was pouring into the neighborhood, and he checked his watch. 3:59. According to his handheld GPS back in the house, sunset was set for 4:04. The end of civil twilight, or the glow on the horizon, would be 4:37, but with the thick storm clouds, there would be no glow, and he expected complete darkness well before 4:30.

  I need to move this along here.

  He picked up the pace, struggling through the snow as he safely crossed between the Carters’ and McCarthys’ lots. The Murrays’ house appeared briefly between the two houses, almost completely obscured by the snowstorm. Alex lowered himself to a crouch as he pushed through the ditch.

  Once at the far corner of the McCarthys’ property, Alex decided to leave the depression and approach the play set, which was located halfway between the McCarthys’ house and the edge of the drainage area. The vast drainage area was significantly lower than the McCarthys’ lot and formed a steep slope along the entire back edge of the lot.

  He considered a position along that ridge, but decided against it due to the distance. A position there would add another fifty yards to his firing range. Given the storm’s increasing intensity and the lack of light, he wanted to fire from a position closer to the Coopers’ house. He reconsidered the ridge momentarily, looking at a spot closer to the Coopers’ property, which might give him the same range.

  No, if something goes wrong, I don’
t want to have to cross an open yard to re-engage targets.

  More importantly, he reminded himself, he wanted to stay between the Mansons and his own family.

  These people are capable of anything.

  He arrived at the play set and slid his black backpack to the ground, knelt, and removed a small foldable shovel from the back of the pack. With the shovel unfolded, he ducked under the main tower of the play set, wading into a three-foot snow drift. He rapidly moved snow out of the sandbox under the tower, digging all the way down to the frozen sand. The snow was easy to move, and within five minutes, he had cleared an area twice the width of his body. He dug a large hole into the front of his new snow fort, scraping the snow and ice off the thick wooden base of the sandbox. He lay down and looked through the hole, which gave him a complete view of the Coopers’ yard, and the Hayes’ yard beyond it. He set his rifle on the heavy log at the bottom of the hole. This would be his firing position. He was convinced that the heavy wood frame of the sandbox would provide excellent protection from any return fire.

  Alex went to retrieve his backpack, and the wind slammed him when he stood up out of the protective cover of the snow fort. The snow was coming down horizontally in thick waves.

  Maybe it won’t be so bad lying here. Better than out on that ridge.

  He took the walkie from the shoulder strap and put it back into his coat pocket, laid back down in the fort and fully opened the backpack. He removed a gray and brown wool blanket and pushed it toward the front of the fort, then pulled out several loaded magazines for his rifle and stuffed them in the lower cargo pockets of his snowboarding pants. He left the pockets unzipped, hopeful that the backup Velcro tabs would keep the spare magazines from spilling out. He tapped the black hip holster on his right leg, which held his .45 H&K USP semiautomatic pistol and two spare magazines, for reassurance.

  Finally, he removed the night vision scope and binoculars, setting both down on top of a blue towel retrieved from another compartment of the backpack. He closed the backpack, set it next to his body, and stood up to fold the wool blanket, laying it down on the frozen sand beneath him for padding. He kneeled down on the blanket and pushed himself forward into the fort, lying prone and facing north into the ambush zone. Darkness enveloped the neighborhood, and he strained to see past the Coopers’ yard to the Hayes’. He glanced at his watch again. 4:17.

  Time to get in touch with Charlie.

  He dug into his coat pocket and pulled out the walkie, first removing the weatherproof glove on his right hand to make it easier to use the radio. His hand immediately felt cold.

  “Charlie, this is Alex. Come in, over.”

  “Alex, this is Charlie. Read you loud and clear.”

  “Glad to hear your voice. I’m in position, with a clear view of the Coopers’ house and yard. I can see over into the Hayes’, but the snow is really picking up out here. How does it look from your position?”

  “Pretty good. It’s getting pretty dark, and the snow is a problem, but I can see clearly between the houses. Night vision is working perfectly. Wish I had bought some kind of thermal imaging a while back. That’d be perfect for this kind of weather.”

  Alex couldn’t imagine why anyone, even a hunter, would need a thermal imaging device. Then again, most people would wonder why he himself would need a night vision scope.

  “No kidding. These conditions are optimal for thermals. I haven’t checked out night vision yet. I can still see without it. Not for long I imagine. It’s going to be dark out here.”

  “Yeah. No worries though. We’ll pick ’em up if they move your way.”

  “Roger that. I have a good position and a great angle to hit them between the Hayes’ and the Coopers’. Once we know they’re coming, I’ll need you to let me know when they are about halfway between those two houses. I don’t have any way to judge that from here. I want the gap between the houses to be their most logical escape from my fire. That way, they’ll be lined up perfectly for you. Remember, you shoot first, and I’ll light up the rest. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Charlie confirmed.

  “Keep your rifle ready to fire at all times, and be ready to shift firing positions. Once we see them, this’ll go down quick.”

  “Roger, I cut a huge section of the screen out earlier today. I’m ready for this, Alex.”

  I bet he’s shitting his pants like me.

  “All right, check in with me every fifteen minutes or so, and stay sharp.”

  “Be careful out there, man. We got your back over here.”

  Alex set the radio on the blue towel with the optic devices and replaced the glove. He debated whether to check in with Kate, but decided to prep all of his gear first. He reached down into his right thigh pocket and pulled out three rifle magazines, placed them on the towel, and scooted up to activate the Aimpoint scope on his rifle.

  He looked through the scope at the far corner of the Coopers’ house, where most of his shooting should take place, and dialed down the intensity of the red dot. The scope would allow for quick precision shooting at ranges between twenty-five to two hundred meters. He estimated that he was about fifty meters from the corner of the Coopers’ house.

  Possibly a little closer.

  He checked the safety on the weapon with his thumb and could tell without looking that it was engaged. He closed the scope’s covers and lay the weapon down on the towel.

  He picked up the binoculars and looked down the row of houses. There was just enough light for him to see all of the way to the end of the Hayes’ house, though it was hard for him to pick out any details other than windows and doors. If the Manson crew were to appear now, he would definitely spot them with the binoculars. He knew that within about fifteen minutes, the night vision would be his only hope of spotting them early enough to spring their trap.

  He set the binoculars back down and picked up the night vision scope, activating the device, and the previously dreary view was replaced by a sharp green image. He easily found the corner of the Coopers’ house, and then tracked along to the furthest back corner of the Hayes’ house. Satisfied with the view, he turned off the scope to conserve batteries. Even though he had packed plenty of replacement batteries for all of his electronic gadgets, the last thing he wanted to have to do was change batteries in the middle of trouble.

  I really hope I don’t have to be out here that long.

  Alex stared out into the murky darkness, amazed by how dark the neighborhood had become without streetlamps or house lights. He sat up enough to look over the snowdrift at the McCarthys’ house to his left. He was pretty sure that he could see some light through the blinds on their sliding glass door.

  They’re probably huddled near the fireplace.

  He regretted that he didn’t have time to warn them of the possible firefight that might erupt in their backyard. He lay back down and looked through the binoculars.

  Useless.

  He could still see into the Coopers’ backyard, and most of the way to the Hayes’ house with the binoculars, but it wasn’t far enough. He switched over to night vision and decided to call Kate.

  “Kate, this is Alex. You there?” he whispered into the walkie.

  “I’m here. It looks horrible out there.”

  “I hadn’t noticed, but thanks for the reminder. I hope this goes down soon, I’m not sure how long I can stay out here. How are the kids doing?” he asked, taking another look through the scope.

  “They’re fine, staying warm by the stove with Max. I’ll move them upstairs as soon as you guys spot them.”

  “Thanks. I need to concentrate on the scope now. Love you, honey. Are you still in your lookout post?”

  “No, I can’t see a thing past the Thorntons’. I’m with the kids. Don’t forget about the thermos of hot tea. I love you, and don’t do anything stupid,” she reminded him.

  “Like sit outside in a snowstorm waiting to shoot someone? I love you too. Out.”

  He turned the volume on the handset to
the highest setting and checked the night vision scope again.

  Nothing.

  He checked his watch yet again. 4:45. The walkie crackled to life, and Alex grabbed the rifle.

  “Alex, it’s Charlie, just checking in. No movement over there. I can see some light in the house, but I can’t tell anything by it.”

  He relaxed his grip on the rifle. “Thanks, Charlie. Let’s hope they’re just as impatient as we are to get this going. I really don’t know how long I can stay out here. The snow is piling up right on top of me,” he said, shaking snow off his body.

  “I don’t think we’ll have to wait long.”

  “I don’t know. The Hayes’ were killed in their kitchen, and the Coopers were shot in their bedroom. Could have been any time for the Hayes’, but last night’s shots happened around eight thirty. We could be doing this for hours,” Alex said, doubting whether he could lie out here like this for more than another hour, let alone three or four.

  “I don’t think so. They know you saw their handiwork earlier today. I bet we’ll see them within a half-hour.”

  “I hope you’re right. I really do. We’ll chat later. Oh hey, Charlie, make sure you get your family down in the basement when this starts. You guys are right in the middle of it.”

  “Roger, first sign of these assholes, and they’re heading down below. Talk to you in fifteen. Out.”

  Alex stuck his right hand into the backpack and dug around for the large green ceramic thermos, located it at the bottom of the pack, and set it on the snow next to his rifle. He removed the lid and watched the steam escape from the mouth of the thermos.

  Heat!

  He turned onto his left side and took a slow, careful sip of the tea. It burned his mouth, but he didn’t care. The liquid streamed into his stomach, warming him.

  Green tea. Hmpff. I really need some coffee.

  4:50 now.

  **

  Alex shivered as he stared at the green image in the night vision scope. He had changed the batteries a few minutes earlier, after noticing a dimmer picture. The storm had intensified over the past hour, reducing visibility even further; however, he could still see as far as he needed to see into the Hayes’ yard. He sipped the last of the green tea and considered his options.

 

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