by JL Curtis
Matt and the old man realized Aaron was yelling, “What do you mean she’s down, please God don’t let her be down!”
The old man picked up the radio. “Sheriff, y’all better come on up and come in hot. And bring a couple of ambulances, I think we’re gonna need them. Matt and I are up on the ridge to the East, and I’ll stay here and spot; Jesse is down in the back of the house and she shot twice, don’t know if or how bad she’s hurt, and the other Marine Aaron is in the bar ditch ten yards West of car 214 with a gunshot wound and broke leg. I’m sending Matt down to look after him and it looks like Mrs. Alton is running down the driveway with her daughter and will probably be at the road by the time you get here.”
With that, he rolled off the gun and dug in his pocket, handing the keys to Matt. “Go check on Aaron and Jesse, I’ll walk down in a minute or two.”
Matt took the keys, shook his head and taking one more look got up and ran to the truck as sirens sounded coming from the West. He continued talking to Aaron, telling him Jesse would be okay.
The old man just lay there and let the tears come. All these years later, and he still remembered it like was yesterday, and he replayed it one more time in his head. Nothing he thought of or tried to imagine ever worked, other than having gotten to the house earlier, and he’d never forgiven himself for that fifteen minute delay. If I’d been on time, maybe Jack would still be here. Why? Why? He sobbed one more time, then wiped his eyes. And now, Jesse. She couldn’t be gone. She just couldn’t, not again, not here...
A minute later, after ensuring the safety was on, he scanned the back of the house, and saw Jesse slowly get to her knees. He saw blood on her hip, but nowhere else as she painfully staggered to her feet. Keying the radio he said, “Jesse is up in the back, but looks like she’s hurt.”
His heart beat wildly with relief. She was hurt, but not dead.
The gaggle of cars in the road and in the driveway now included three department cars, two trooper’s cars, and Clay Boone’s unmarked Ranger car. He could see the medics working over Aaron, and heard Deputy Hart say he was going to check on Jesse. The others were spreading out and approaching the house with the sheriff leading.
The radio keyed and the sheriff came up. “Dispatch, show this location secured for the hostage situation. Mrs. Alton and her baby are okay, and we have four perps down. Requesting an investigation team be dispatched from Ranger HQ in Austin, per Clay. Sheriff, clear.”
With that the old man got up, slung his rifle and started walking down the ridge toward the house. His phone rang, and he shifted his hand and answered to hear Jesse say she was okay and asking about Aaron. “Aaron is getting treated now by Doc Truesdale and Hart is on his way around the house to you so don’t shoot him.” She told him she’d taken out two and been hit in the chest plate. At that time Hart got to her, she hung up and Hart proceeded to help her around the side of the house. Ten minutes later, the old man got to the front yard, and walked slowly to his Suburban, re-stored the rifle and dropped his backpack in the back.
He turned to look at the scene as Matt walked over. “Aaron’s going to live, they’re pushing some plasma into him and he and Jesse are on the way to the hospital. It looks like Jesse took a round on an oblique from an AK, and it didn’t penetrate the chicken plate, but it hit hard enough that it probably broke some ribs, and knocked the wind out of her for a few minutes. I think she’s got some spall in her hip from the radio and whatever else was on her belt that got hit by a round too. From what I understand, that happened before they bailed from the car. She said she loves you and she’ll be at the hospital whenever you clear here.”
The old man just nodded, not trusting his voice to speak.
17 The Aftermath
The old man just nodded and started walking toward the house. Stopping at the first body, he looked down and turned to Matt. “Good snap-shooting there, Matt. I didn’t say it before, but thanks for taking that shot. You’re right. I’d have never made it.”
He stuck out his hand, and Matt shook it. Walking on, they walked by the van to the front porch and the second body. Looking at it, Matt realized the old man had taken a head shot at 500 yards on a snap shot and made a clean dead center hit. He wondered if he’d have taken it in this situation, and was glad he hadn’t had to make that choice. The old man didn’t say a word as he walked through the house, out the back and to the two bodies there. Jesse had hit both in the head, and pacing it off they’d been about 110 and 130-yard shots. Matt thought to himself that this old man’s genes had bred true.
The old man looked at both bodies, and said, “Looks like she wasn’t sure if they were wearing vests so she decided on head shots. Probably not a bad idea, since they were both wearing chest pack ammo carriers, and that ol’ 30-30 might or might not have given her a good kill.”
Matt couldn’t let it lie, and asked, “You said something up there about shooting your son? I saw you pretty upset, and I’m sorry, but I’ve got to ask…”
The old man rounded on Matt, and then realized he wasn’t trying to force him to answer, but simply trying to figure out what had caused the tears. “Well, I was coming over to see if Jack had gotten the old car to start; when I topped the ridge, I saw what looked like a fight in the front yard. I jumped out and grabbed the rifle since it was scoped to try to see what was going on, and ‘something’ was chewing on Jack. I couldn’t see what it was through the dust, just something big and with dark brownish fur. I took a shot and whatever it was picked Jack up about that time. I didn’t know until later, but apparently I shot him through the heart. I shot again as Pat, Jack’s wife came running out of the house and I know I hit that damn thing good the second shot and it dropped. I jumped in the car and hauled ass down the road, but it still took me five minutes to get down there, and when I did, Pat was dead, too. They’d both been chewed and clawed all to hell… And whatever the hell it was, well, it was gone; we followed some damn big tracks that looked like a wolf, and a blood trail that lasted about 100 yards to the creek behind the house before we lost it. They brought in dogs, but we never did pick up a single damn trace of that beast.”
Looking up at the sky, the old man brushed tears from his eyes. “God, I tried… I couldn’t… It took the ambulance almost a half hour to get out here, and I had to call Amy and tell her. Couldn’t let her see the bodies. Thankfully, Jesse had been at our place and she didn’t die here too.”
Turning away from Matt, the old man sobbed. “I didn’t find out until the autopsy that I’d actually shot Jack through the heart, and I damn near walked out and blew my brains out right there. Marty was the sheriff then, and he and Clay did the investigation and determined from the marks and tracks that Jack had been thrown around all over the place and so had Pat. He never said a word about me doing anything wrong, and Doc Truesdale did the autopsy and said Jack was dead long before I shot him.”
Matt just shook his head and said, “Now I understand, and I’m sorry I asked, and what you’ve said will go no further. Thank you for telling me.” With that Matt turned and walked back to the house, leaving the old man to get himself back under control.
The old man turned and walked slowly back to the house, the sheriff met him at the back door. “Thank you, John. You and Jesse turned what could have been a really bad situation into a good ending for the Altons; I owe you for that. You need to come see what’s in the van. You’re not going to believe it!”
As they walked back through the house the old man noticed an empty AK magazine lying on the floor and out of habit placed a chair over it. “You know we’re contaminating a crime scene, right boss?”
“You don’t know the half of it,” the sheriff replied, “We’ve got two Ranger investigators and the regional DEA guys flying in now.”
Walking out the front door, the old man noticed Clay shooting crime scene pictures and looked more closely at the body and especially the face. “Clay, doesn’t this guy look familiar to you?”
Clay looked up. “Huh? Wa
it a minute. Yeah John, that sumbitch does look familiar. Didn’t we pop him about five or six years ago on a drug charge?”
The old man said, “I think so, damned if I don’t think so. If we did, what the hell is he doing here?”
“Dunno, I wonder if somebody got him out on a technicality…”
The old man shrugged and walked on out to the van meeting Matt and Deputy Hart there. Looking in the side door he realized they were looking at a serious load of drugs. Quickly counting, he guessed somewhere north of eighty kilos coke, and a suitcase full of money on top of it. Things were about to get interesting, so he grabbed his phone and tried to call Jesse. Getting no answer, he left a message that the scene had just gotten interesting and he’d be here a while. Suddenly, he realized something he’d missed in the house, and headed back that way grabbing Clay on the way in. Sure enough, there was a map lying on the living room table, with a route marked on it and notes in Spanish. Grabbing a pair of rubber gloves out of his back pocket, he had Clay photograph the map in position; then slowly unfolded it, with Clay taking photographs of each step.
“Damn, these guys were heading to Chicago! But look at the route, rather than run up I-twenty to I-thirty, they were going to run ten all the way across to Hammond, Louisiana then run north on I-fifty-five. Twenty eight hours at the speed limit, so I’m betting they were going to do most of the driving at night. We need to check the van and see if they’ve got any other plates in there, and I’m wondering if this note on Hammond is a motel name or a safe house they were going to use. Shit…”
“What’s got your knickers in a wad, John?” Clay asked.
“If these guys are supposed to be in Hammond at a specific time, if we can get this info to the right folks, they might be able to roll up both folks in Hammond and Chicago if we actually knew where. We need to check the bodies for cell phones and pocket trash now. And even worse, this needs to be kept out of the news for at least twenty-four hours.”
“Damn, you’re right! I don’t know if Bucky is coming with the DEA guys, but I can give him a heads up, and you’re right, we need to move!”
They both headed out the door and met the sheriff at the van with the possibilities. Clay handed his camera off to the old man, who quickly took the requisite photographs of the body on the porch as Clay made a call. Hanging up, he said, “Bucky is on the way, about an hour out. And he agrees, we need to move on this.”
The old man nodded and he and Clay, with the sheriff and Matt watching quickly searched the body. Finding both a wallet and a cell phone, they were hastily photographed, and the contents of the wallet spread out on the porch. Folded up in the inner liner of the wallet was what they thought might be an address, and the sheriff found a pre-programmed number with a 773 area code. Rather than put it over the air, he quickly called dispatch on his cell and asked the dispatcher to see if there was an address in Chicago that matched the name and numbers and to do a reverse find on the 773 number.
Meanwhile, Clay, the old man and Matt photographed and searched the other bodies. Matt noticed the two bodies in the back had two things in common. “Hey, I’m not the expert here, but these guys were walkers or runners, look at the development on their calves. And they both have on identical pairs of running shoes, and I think they match the guy out by the van too. And all these cell phones look identical too.”
Clay sent Matt to check on the physical development of the calves on the body by the van, while he and John went through the things collected from the pockets. Matt reported back that body’s calves weren’t as well developed as the other two in the back yard. Clay looked at the old man. “Coyotes? And which cartel are they? We’re too far west to be Zeta, right?”
Before the old man could answer the sheriff came back. “The dispatcher called back with the news that two possible addresses came back, one on the south side of Chicago, and one west of Chicago. The reverse look up came back as cell phone, but the 773 area code showed south side of Chicago. What do you think?”
Both Clay and the old man said in chorus, “Score!”
“Go with the south side address,” the old man added.
Clay said that if they could find something for Louisiana, they would have a twofer, but after going through all the pockets and cell phones, the only other number came back to a cell phone in Hammond, LA so the sheriff and Clay both got on their respective phones to see if they could get the records for that number pulled. Clay asked headquarters in Austin to get a search warrant, figuring that might actually pry the needed info out of the phone company in time to do some good. The sheriff and Clay broke off to interview Mrs. Alton, and after finishing with her, allowed her to return to the house and get clothes for herself, her husband and daughter; he then sent them to the hotel in town for the night to give them a little time to themselves after cautioning them not to tell anyone what had gone on out here.
After calling for additional lighting and both Bucky and the two Rangers arriving from Austin, along with various other LEOs from various agencies, the sheriff asked John to assist in not only documenting the shots he and Matt had taken, but the scene at the house itself. He and Matt also had to give multiple statements, and grabbed a couple of pieces of chicken that had been brought in while they wrote out the last statements. It was almost one in the morning before the old man and Matt could get loose from the scene. As they were leaving, the old man checked with the sheriff and found out that Major Wilson, the Ranger Company E commander had brought the chicken. He and Matt walked over, thanked him and handed him $20. “Thanks for thinking of us and bringing the fried chicken, Major. That was truly appreciated.”
“That was good shooting John, but damn this is turning into a royal cluster… Bucky is running around like a chicken with his head cut off trying to put a raid together in Chi-town, but his cell phone died and he didn’t bring a charger, so you better get the hell out of here before he comes and snags yours.”
Looking over at Matt, he said, “Marine, that was a good catch on those two in back being coyotes, and the shoes matching, we’d probably have gotten to that later, but now we have a better idea of how the drugs got in; they were probably walked across by mules, and met the van somewhere south of ten. Turns out the van was stolen from a delivery service last night and the plates stolen off a van in long term parking at the El Paso airport, so this is looking like it was going to be a drive and dump. All in all, y’all did a damn good job here to keep the hostages alive.” He nodded to them and walked back toward the house with the sheriff.
Since the sheriff had agreed to take custody of John’s rifles for the ballistics and post mortem, along with the boxed ammo for chain of custody; the old man and Matt got in the truck and headed for the hospital. Matt slumped back in the seat and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m still wired just like coming back from combat. I don’t know what to do now, but I’m guessing after I find out Aaron’s condition, I’d better call in to Pendleton and let them know the situation.”
The old man just grunted and kept driving, so Matt just leaned back and looked out the window. As he did, he realized how dark it got out here; instead of the light pollution he was used to on the east coast, the landscape might as well have been painted deep grey, with occasional black shapes blurring by at the side of the road. The stars were crystal clear, and he realized why they called this big sky country. It did remind him of Afghanistan though, especially up in the mountains.
Twenty minutes later, they’d arrived at the hospital. The old man found a parking place and they walked in the emergency room entrance. Looking around the old man finally spotted someone he knew, and walked over to the nurse. “Cindy, do you know where they stashed the Marine that was brought in earlier with the gunshot, and where Jesse is?”
Cindy sat down and typed on the computer for a couple of minutes. “He’s in twenty-five and Jesse’s in twenty-six, down the hall to the left. I hope to hell we don’t get anything else tonight, we’re slap full! And John Cronin, why ar
e you just now getting here? They were brought in seven hours ago! You should be ashamed!”
Holding up his hands the old man responded, “Cindy, we just left the scene. We were also involved and couldn’t just walk out. I’ve been trying to call Jesse for the last six hours, so go easy on us, okay?”
Somewhat mollified, she harrumphed at them and turned back to the chart she was working on. “You better let me know how they’re doing before you leave you old grouch!”
“Yes, ma’am, I will.”
Easing down the hall, the old man thought to himself that a bathroom break would be a good idea, and said so to Matt, then ducked into the bathroom. Finishing, he walked out to find Matt pacing like a caged bear. “Matt, are you okay to do this?”
“Ah, hell, I hate hospitals. I hate seeing one of my troops in the hospital and I hate like hell that Aaron is in here. No, I’m not okay, but I’ll deal. Let’s get this done so I can call it in.”
As they walked toward the rooms, a nurse came out of Aaron’s room. The old man smiled at her. “Hi, Angelina. I’m glad we caught you. We’ve just cleared the scene and have no idea what’s gone on. Can you give us an update on the Marine and Jesse?”
Angelina looked up and cocked her head. “John, I really need to have the doctor tell you tomorrow morning, but I’m guessing Matt needs to call in, right?”
Startled, Matt looked at her and she smiled. “You don’t remember meeting me do you, Matt? But you danced with my sister last night at the barbecue.”
Coloring, Matt replied, “I’m sorry, I met so many people last night…”
Angelina turned all business. “Okay, come take a quick look at both of them and I’ll give you what I have in the charts.” Showing them into Aaron’s room she stepped out to go back to the nurses’ station. Aaron’s right leg was in both suspension and a cast; and an IV was dripping into his arm, but he was asleep, so they left. Next door, Jesse was lying on her left side with the covers pulled all the way up but they could see an IV tube running under the covers.