by Lee West
Bravo team dropped Kara Lovell and the rest of the small Alpha team on the road near the horse trail. Lovell’s eyes adjusted to the dark forest slowly. The sun was peeking up along the horizon but not enough to penetrate the canopy of towering trees along the trail.
The team had a difficult time finding the horse trail in the dark. Their flashlights gave them only mere glimpses of the path to Porter. Finally, once they were sure they were on the horse trail, they picked up their pace considerably.
Holding her fist in the air, Lovell stopped the other four officers.
“Tucker, take your squad to the right; Lutz, we’re going to the left. We need to be off the trail.”
The team of six split in two and proceeded through the forest, flanking the trail. So far there was no sign of the New Order. Lovell could see glimpses of the town through the trees; she knew they were getting close. Again halting their progress, they hid behind the trees, observing the entrance to the trail. Four heavily armed New Order men stood near the trailhead, chatting.
Lovell knew they had the advantage. The men would not be able to clearly see past the shadowy, dark tree line, but the police could see them. Signaling the other officers, she coordinated the attack on the New Order men, hitting them at once in a smooth, swift volley. She lined up the man facing the forest and took her shot. The loud sounds of her rifle fire in concert with the fire from the other officers echoed off the trees. Two of the New Order men went down almost immediately. The other two men, who were partially obscured from their range, immediately spun around, blanketing the trees with firepower.
The two teams of police took cover behind the thick tree trunks and then returned fire. One more New Order man went down while the other raced behind a parked car. They needed to get him before he got away.
Lovell ran through the forest parallel to the man’s concealed location and then boldly darted out of the tree line behind him, firing at close range until the man dropped to the ground.
The other officers ran out from the path, quickly grabbing the New Order’s bloody weapons and checking to be sure none of the men survived.
Chapter Forty-Six
Henry Kreen heard the gunfire erupting through the quiet dawn and knew something big was happening. Racing through the house, he grabbed his hunting rifle and a box of ammunition.
“Take Pete and head to the basement! Now!” he shouted at his wife, Margaret.
He watched as his frightened family ran down the stairs and slammed the basement door shut. Getting to his front window, he quickly signaled Adam.
“You hear that?”
“Yeah. What do you think’s happening?”
“Not sure, but it sounded like a fight. Not the usual one-sided shooting fest.”
“Maybe the cops are back? We need to get everyone ready!” signaled Adam.
“On it.”
Henry ran from the front window to the side of the house to signal his next-door neighbor. He and Adam had taught the neighbors a simple version of their code. It was just enough to keep them in silent communication. He flashed Danny, his neighbor to the south, first.
“You there?”
“Yes! What was that?”
“We don’t know. Just get ready in case it’s the cops. They might need us.”
“Okay.”
“Start the comms chain.”
“Okay.”
Henry knew the brevity of their current communications system probably killed Danny. Normally Danny could talk all day, holding up many family dinners with his idle front-yard chatter. Henry had to smile slightly despite the situation.
Running to the other side of the house, Henry quickly signaled the neighbor on his north side. Scott quickly signaled back that the houses north of Henry were all ready for action. Henry knew Scott would be a great asset. Scott was organized and efficient. Plus, like Henry, he had a family to defend.
The neighbors waited in a long deadly row along Magnolia Street. They’d previously decided that all families would wait in their respective basements; each shooter would cover their patch of land and if possible the police station. All knew not to shoot into each other’s houses.
More gunfire erupted in the town. Henry could not be sure of its direction. Running to the back of his house, he looked out, trying to acquire more information. He saw two men he knew as local veterans running through the backyards, being led by a man he didn’t recognize. The fight was on.
He quickly flashed a message to the others.
“Get ready! The cops and vets are back!”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Bruce Sleeper lay in the bushes behind the old two-story house, listening for any signs of movement. Once Charlie headed off with the rest of the squad, everything had gone dead quiet again. At first the silence didn’t bother him, but as the minutes dragged on, the stillness started to work on his nerves. He’d checked the safety on his AR-15 so many times he was starting to forget which position it needed to be in to fire. Then the sounds of distant gunfire rattled his nerves, making him wonder if he should stay in his assigned location or move.
A few of the veterans had brought their own AR-style rifles to the cabin and given the rest of them a thorough re-familiarization of the weapon. Sleeper had fired an M16 a few times in the Navy, which was essentially the same thing, but he’d forgotten most of what he’d learned. The refresher training at the cabin had helped, but he was still second-guessing why they’d chosen him to carry one of Charlie’s rifles. At least he wasn’t carrying a spear. Larry Goodlaw, the guy lying next to him, was armed with little more than a sharpened stick.
Goodlaw nudged him, drawing his attention to the brightening sky over the trees beyond the house. Sleeper shook his head, understanding his partner’s concern. If the attack on this particular nest didn’t commence shortly, they might have to find a more concealed ambush position. He raised his head well above the bushes to scout for a better location. No sense waiting until they were fully exposed. The hedgerow separating the backyards on the other side of the yard looked to be a good choice, even though it was further away from the kill zone. Before he could make a decision, more gunfire erupted, this time closer to them.
The rapid crackling of gunshots continued for several seconds, until the town once again quieted. The shots had come from the direction of the trail leading out of Porter, so either the police had been ambushed, or they had gunned their way through whatever guards the New Order had set up on the trail. He probably wouldn’t know either way before the fight came to his doorstep.
Yelling erupted beyond the house they were guarding, coming from the street. The sound of footsteps followed. He caught a glimpse of movement in the front yard, but his view beyond the side of the house was limited.
“Who the fuck locked the door?” said a gruff voice from the front of the house.
“I didn’t do it. I came out the back,” replied another.
“Well, one of you idiots did it! Let’s go around the back. Hurry!”
Three figures materialized in the predawn light and ran down the side of the house, oblivious to his presence. He followed them with the red dot sight attached to his rifle, his finger on the trigger, until they stopped at the back door.
“One of you is stupider than fuck,” said one of the men, yanking on the doorknob. “It’s locked.”
Sleeper didn’t give any of them a chance to respond. He pressed the trigger repeatedly, moving the illuminated red dot from one figure to the next until all three of them had fallen. He had no idea how many shots he’d fired, so he pressed the magazine release button and dug through his cargo pants pockets for one of three spare magazines he’d been given. Before he could reload, Goodlaw jumped out of the bushes and charged the downed men.
“Larry! What the hell!”
He fumbled with the magazine as one of the men on the ground managed to lift himself to a seated position against the house, with a rifle across his lap. Goodlaw reached the New Order thug faster than Sleeper th
ought possible, kicking the rifle away and jamming the spear into his stomach with two hands. The man gave up a gurgled scream before slumping sideways and collapsing. Goodlaw speared him again, this time eliciting nothing more than a flat groan. When he pulled the bloodied spear back for a third strike, Sleeper jumped up.
“He’s dead, Larry! Jesus. He’s dead. Grab their weapons.”
Gunfire exploded a few houses over, causing them to crouch.
“That’s the second nest. We need to secure this house and wait for the police to push through. Then we meet up with Charlie.”
Goodlaw said nothing. He just stared into the backyard like he’d seen a ghost.
“You okay?”
“I think so.”
Sleeper grabbed the spear from his hand and tossed it onto the grass before holding up one of the rifles for him.
“Let’s go. We still have a job to do,” said Sleeper, patting him on the back.
Goodlaw nodded and took the rifle, reconnecting to the world and the task at hand.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Mark raced with his team through the backyards to the warehouse. The sound of nearby gunfights echoed all around them. The team got to the warehouse and kicked in the door. The stench of death greeted them. He recalled that Brown had said he’d neutralized the threat in the warehouse. Judging by the strong odor of rotting flesh, Brown hadn’t lied to them.
The men quickly moved into the building. Taking the emergency stairwell, the men carefully moved their way up the darkened flights to the third floor. The warehouse was deserted. A line of dried blood pooled from under a locked bathroom door.
“Let’s get to the next location. Reacher, you stay here and wait for company. We might’ve gotten lucky and beat them to their posts.”
“You got it. I’ll lock the front door and wait by the back side for them to show up.”
The men proceeded to walk back down the stairwell, their minds on the next location. Suddenly a bullet ricocheted off the metal handrail from an unseen New Order assailant.
The men sheltered themselves behind the blind sides of the stairwell and then returned fire. The stairwell filled with the deafening sound of their weapons combined with the return fire from the New Order men. Concerned about their ammunition supply, Mark signaled for them to stop shooting. They waited in the darkness. Finally a beam of light appeared at the bottom of the stairwell and then disappeared as the New Order men left the building.
Mark and the others raced down the stairs, taking two at a time.
“Same plan. Reacher, wait for company and then join us at the station.”
Silence.
“Reacher!”
The man did not reply. Mark ran up the stairs and found Reacher face up, eyes open, sitting in a pool of his own blood.
“Fuck! Reacher is dead. New plan. The New Order is on the move. Grant, you stay here and watch the street. Make sure to watch your back. They might return. Got it?”
“Got it. I can go between the front and back, watching the streets.”
Mark and the other veteran quickly ran out of the building to the next and last sniper location.
Getting to the next nest, Mark called Charlie. “Charlie, what’s your status? Over.”
“All of our targets are neutralized. What’s your status?”
“We lost Reacher, but are holding steady. One more to go.”
“Copy that. Let me know when you’re done, and I’ll tell the cops that they can move into town.”
“Roger,” said Mark.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Dale Spencer moved his team quickly and efficiently toward the center of town. They hid behind buildings, cars, dumpsters and whatever else they could find. He presumed the gunfire was from Lovell’s team but then heard live fire from what seemed like multiple shooter locations. He hoped it was Charlie and Mark with the veterans and not a New Order hit squad going door-to-door.
“Lovell, report your status,” he whispered loudly into the handheld radio. “Lovell!”
“This is Lovell. We’re moving to the back of the station,” she said.
“We’re at the front and ready to proceed.”
From their vantage point, Spencer and his team could see the station. They were hidden behind a large van on Magnolia. Their next step would be to hit the station with tear gas, causing the men to run outside. He waited a few more long minutes, giving Lovell time to get into place on the back side of the station. His radio cracked to life.
“Ready when you are, Sergeant!” said Lovell from her concealed location at the back of the station.
“Gleason and Nix, you guys ready to hit them with the gas?”
Before they could answer, the street teemed with New Order men. Two cars drove toward the station and numerous New Order men seemed to spill from the neighboring buildings. This must have been where most of them lived, thought Spencer.
“Fire! We need to get them before they go inside!” he shouted.
Bullets flew from the police’s weapons, cutting through the New Order men as they ran toward the safety of the station. Finally, several New Order men figured out the source of the gunfire and signaled the others to return fire. A wall of bullets hit the cops, who at first had the upper hand, and now were hopelessly pinned behind the van.
“We need to keep moving!” shouted Spencer.
“We can’t, Sergeant! They have us nailed down!”
Spencer searched the area for an opportunity. They needed to get out from behind the van before the New Order men got even bolder.
Suddenly, numerous second-story windows of the pleasant-looking houses opened almost at once. Spencer could see the muzzles of rifles pointing at the New Order. Flashes of fire and the loud reports of gunfire erupted as citizens opened fire on the New Order, providing the cops with the opportunity to move from behind the van.
“Go now! Move!” shouted Spencer.
While under the protective fire, the officers moved to a location closer to the station, ready to hit the New Order with tear gas.
“We got this, Sergeant!” shouted Gleason as she and Nix sprinted toward the station with tear gas grenades in their hands.
They lobbed the cylindrical canisters through the windows of the station and sprinted for cover behind the nearest porch. Several seconds later, yellowish smoke started to pour from the open windows.
Men streamed out of the building, firing blindly as they went. Spencer and his officers cut the men down as they walked out of the front of the building.
Although he couldn’t see the back side of the building, he could hear the thunderous sounds of live fire. He knew Lovell’s team must have made it to the back of the station and were getting the New Order men as they tried to escape the building.
Chapter Fifty
The Boss had gotten up unusually early. He knew something was going to happen this morning. At first he thought he was just being paranoid, but within minutes of smoking his first cigarette, gunfire erupted from multiple directions throughout town, confirming his suspicions that the cops were back.
Darting from office to office, he looked out from the station at the chaos unfolding on the streets. As he watched his men being gunned down on the street by the cops and regular citizens shooting from their windows, he knew the second part of his plan needed to be executed. It was only a matter of time before they hit the station, killing everyone.
Turning to the men inside, he shouted, “Linc and Bet, get over here!”
“Shit, Boss. You see that? The cops are back! What do we do?” shouted a scared Linc.
“We get the fuck outta here! Put on these vests and helmets,” he said, handing the men tactical gear. “It’s quiet on the back side. We need to move back there and leave, fast!”
Other New Order men came into the tactical prep room.
“Everyone! Put this shit on. We’re getting out of here!”
The men quickly started awkwardly dressing in the police tactical gear. The Boss knew th
e vests and helmets were of no use in a close-range gunfight, but he could care less about the idiots in the station. All he needed to do was make it out the back and to his black SUV. Everything he needed to start his life again in a new location was in that SUV.
Grabbing the only three ballistic tactical shields in the prep room, he shouted to Linc and Bet.
“Here! Take these and listen. The three of us are moving out the back. You two first and then I’ll follow,” he said.
“No way, Boss. You see what’s happening out there? No way,” said Linc.
“This is the good shit. See these shields? Bullets can’t get through them. They’re for the SWAT teams. Now we need to get outta here before they hit us with more gas!”
He pushed the two scared men toward the back of the station. Neither seemed convinced that the shields would protect them, a sentiment the Boss shared, but he had no intention of dying inside a police station of all places.
“Move! Faster!” he yelled, nudging them from the back.
Men ran around the station, trying to get a good window in the front of the station to shoot from. Most of the men were shooting out of the front windows at the cops on the street, while others seemed almost paralyzed with fear and unsure of what to do.
“Alright, Bet, push the door open and get us out of here!”
Bet hesitated near the door. The Boss could tell the man would not go outside without a little encouragement. Looking outside to the parking lot, the Boss saw his black SUV and a random assortment of other vehicles. No cops were visible, but he knew better. Those sneaky assholes were good at hiding and waiting. He needed a distraction.
“Hey! The back is clear! The back is clear! Let’s go!” he shouted into the station.
Frightened men heard his shouts and started streaming out the back doors. More tear gas canisters were lobbed through the open windows on the side of the building, filling the space with acrid smoke.