The Shadow Patriots Box Set

by Warren Ray

  Winters looked around and saw men everywhere crying out for help. Several huddled in groups trying to protect each other, while others died where they lay.

  The gunfire started to slow down and then came to a halt when all the guards and drivers were dead. Winters got up off the ground and looked around trying to absorb the battle scene. Bloodied men lay about haphazardly, some dead, others continued to cry for help.

  He jerked around when gunfire rang out from inside the building. Seconds later, the door swung open. Winters raised his gun, aimed and waited for someone to exit. Fortunately, Winters recognized Elliott, who sheepishly peered around the door not wanting to be shot at. Winters let out a breath as he realized that in the chaos he’d forgotten all about Elliott.

  He jogged over to him. “Just one inside?”

  “Yeah. Found the little bastard cowering in a corner waving a gun. Figured we’d be better off not having one of them holed up in there while we were out here.”

  “Good thinking.”

  They turned toward the melee when Nate yelled to them. “Captain, Rogers has been shot.”

  They sprinted to where Rogers lay. His friends knelt on the ground and tried to help the man. Winters got there to find him becoming very pale. His friends held both his hands. He shook and coughed. The men around him tore off his shirt. He’d taken two in the chest. They feverishly tried to stop the bleeding. One of his friends ripped off his jacket and bore down on the wounds with it. Blood soaked through in no time. As it turned out, their efforts were in vain and all they were able to do was try and comfort the man as he slipped away.

  Chapter 15

  No one said a word nor moved for what seemed like an eternity. The survivors from Minnesota then started to come out from their hiding places scared and confused.

  Winters stared at the horrific scene as if he were in some kind of slow-motion nightmare. Men moved around in a state-of-confusion. Some yelled for help, others screamed in pain. Blood was everywhere. Winters snapped back to reality when Elliott came to him about getting a first aid kit. They both went inside the building to look for one.

  “Bastards,” Elliott said rummaging through the kitchen cabinets.

  Winters didn’t respond as he entered the bathroom by stepping over the body of the man Elliott had killed. Opening a closet door by the shower, Winters found a first aid kit. He reached in and grabbed the large container. He pulled up the lid and found it filled with a variety of bandages.

  Winters came back into the hallway. “Found one.”

  They both hurried back out to the wounded. Winters took it all in and could only think how this was his fault. He should have known the volunteers were to be murdered and just come in and killed the workers.

  Elliott took the first aid kit from Winters and walked it over to the Minnesota men who were helping their friends. One of them came up to Winters and confronted him.

  “Just what is going on here?”

  Winters looked into the face of a man who appeared as though he was ready to beat the hell out of him. “They were going to kill you guys.”

  “Kill us? Why would they do that, we came here to volunteer.”

  “I know you did. We’re volunteers from Iowa. We found out that’s what they were doing there, so we came here to help.”

  “Help! Some help you’ve been! You just killed my brother,” he said while pushing at Winters.

  The man came at him again and drove Winters back. He then followed up with a swing, which connected to Winters' left cheek. The blow knocked him to the pavement, causing his hat to fall off. He then started kicking Winters in the gut but got only two in before Elliott and Nate rushed him. They grabbed the man who struggled to break free all the while cursing at Winters.

  Then a couple of Minnesota men came in and grabbed ahold of Elliott and Nate to pull them away from their friend. Elliott twisted away from the hold of his assailant and threw a perfectly placed uppercut. The blow dropped him like a sack of flour. Nate didn’t fare as well. His attacker was much bigger and had Nate in a headlock. He received punches to his head when Elliott grabbed the man’s collar and pulled it back giving him a clear shot to the face. He swung his left arm, which came straight in and knocked him unconscious.

  Before Winters could get up, his attacker jumped on him again and started punching him like a maniac. He received punches to the midsection, knocking his breath out. The man grabbed Winters’ throat and started choking him with both hands. Winters swung his right arm around, sweeping both arms off his throat and locking them together. He followed with a strike to the face, which caused his attacker to tumble sideways off him.

  Winters then staggered up off the ground, picking up his hat in the process. He stood up and arched his back to work out the kinks. Looking around he saw others getting into shoving matches with his men. He pulled out his gun, pointed it to the sky and fired twice. Everyone stopped.

  Winters looked at them for a moment trying to catch his breath. “I’m sorry some of your friends got killed, but had we not come here, you would all be dead.”

  Elliott rested a hand on Winters’ shoulder. “It’s true. We’re volunteers, like you, from Iowa. We don’t know why, but these Patriot Centers are set up to kill us.”

  “Why didn’t you kill them before we got here?” one of them yelled.

  “We weren’t sure it was going on up here,” responded Winters. “We had to make sure what was going on down in Iowa wasn't some isolated thing. Look, we’ll tell you everything we know, but first, we need to help the wounded.”

  Elliott turned his head to Winters. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be alright. Felt like I was back in high school, getting my ass kicked. Don’t remember it hurting this bad though.”

  “What about the Patriot Center?”

  Winters knew it would take quite a while to tend the wounded and clean the place up. Not wanting to put any more than necessary at risk, Winters asked Elliott, “How about just you and me go?”

  Elliott nodded.

  Leaving meant dividing his forces again. It was bad enough not knowing how Scar and Meeks were doing. Not having any means of communications was a significant handicap.

  “Who do you want to leave in charge?”

  “Leave it to Nate. He’ll need something to help get his mind off Rogers. Besides, he seems to like making decisions,” said Winters sarcastically.

  They walked over to Nate, who stood by the transports. Winters could see the angst on Nate’s face, and he had no intention of making it worse for him.

  “I’m sorry we lost Rogers,” said Winters extending his hand out to Nate.

  “It’s my fault.”

  “The fault is mine. Elliott and I should have known sooner. As a matter of fact, had you not done what you did, more of these men would be dead.”

  “I feel just awful.”

  “As do we Nate. Listen, I need to ask you a favor, Elliott and I are going to go back to that Patriot Center. You think you could take over here, get this place cleaned up?”

  “Yeah, no problem. What should we do with the dead?”

  “Dump the guards in the woods. We should take the dead volunteers to their families. How many do ya think we got?” asked Winters.

  Nate looked around and did a quick count. “Fifteen maybe twenty.”

  Winters shook his head and let out a deep breath as he and Elliott headed to their pickup.

  Winters hopped in as Elliott cranked it up and threw it in gear. Winters rolled the window down and sighed with a pang of deep sadness at the bloodbath that lay before him. It reminded him of something you’d see in a war movie, with dead bodies strewn about the living, the injured being helped by the survivors.

  “Damn, this was a waste,” mumbled Winters.

  Elliott gasped. “A waste?” He looked at Winters square in the eye. “What the hell you talking about? We just saved a whole bunch of lives. Yeah, we lost Rogers, a good friend of mine, but look how many we saved. These th
ings are going to happen whether we like it or not. This is just a taste of what we’re in for.”

  Elliott stepped on the accelerator and peeled out onto the road while Winters sat back in his seat digesting what he had said. More will die. Great. Getting men killed was not what he imagined when he reluctantly accepted the leadership position.

  After Elliott’s reprimand and the loss of his friend, there was a palatable tension between them as they drove to the Patriot Center. Winters tried to make small talk but got only short answers. Elliott didn’t want to talk and he understood why. Losing a friend was not an easy thing and Winters understood that heartache.

  Winters leaned his forehead on the side window looking out and thinking about what had happened. He started second-guessing himself as to whether or not he could lead these men. The first day on the job and he’d already lost men. Trying to get the thoughts out of his mind, he busied himself by pulling out his Colt .45 and checking the ammo in the magazine plus the spare ones he had in his coat pocket. Satisfied, he put it away and began massaging around the wound on his arm. Doing this brought back memories of yesterday’s events and the loss of his friends. Despite getting even, it didn’t make things better, though taking them out did give him a small helping of satisfaction. He couldn’t help but savor that guilty pleasure.

  As they got closer to the town where the Patriot Center was, Winters noticed another vehicle coming their way.

  Chapter 16

  Scar and Meeks drove down the country highway en route to the rendezvous spot that they had agreed upon with Winters. They had made good time with Scar pushing the vehicle over a hundred miles per hour. It was late afternoon as they passed the town where the Minnesota Patriot Center was located and were closing in on the meetup spot.

  Scar drove with the window down, enjoying the wind blowing on his face, which felt good after escaping the hot fire.

  “The Captain is going to be pretty disappointed when he finds out the army is in on this. I’m so pissed off right now. Hell, it’s outrageous what’s happening to begin with, but now to see the military being used like this is disgusting.”

  “I’ve been thinking about what happened back there,” said Meeks.

  “And?”

  “Well, we don’t know for sure how involved they are.”

  “They just burned down all those houses.”

  Meeks looked doubtful. “Yes, but they probably had orders.”

  “They didn’t have to follow them.”

  “I thought you guys always had to follow orders.”

  “Not if they’re unlawful,” said Scar.

  “Burning down a few houses is an unlawful order?”

  Scar glanced over at him. “Yes, especially if it wasn’t for any good reason.”

  Meeks contemplated this. “This will make things a bit tougher than we might have thought. I mean going after a bunch of dumb-asses is one thing, but to take on the Army is quite another.”

  Scar sighed. “I know. We’re gonna be out-manned and out-gunned. Once they find out who we are and what we’re up to, they’ll come after us with all they got. Then what?”

  Meeks grinned looking down at the map. “We’ll run and hide. The Highlander way.”

  Scar switched to his best Scottish accent. “We’ll make spears, hundreds of them.”

  “Braveheart, best movie ever.”

  “Haven’t seen that in ages,” said Scar. “Hey, heads up.”

  “What?”

  “Up the road. Grab the binoculars.”

  “I think it’s one of ours,” said Meeks putting the glasses to his eyes.

  Scar slowed the pickup down and waved. Seconds later the two trucks were side by side.

  “Good to see you guys,” said Scar. “We got a story to tell you.”

  “As do we,” said Elliott in a serious tone. “We got into a shootout, lot of people got killed, including my friend, Rogers.”

  “Oh Elliott, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Scar. “How’d it happen?”

  “It just didn’t go right.”

  Winters detected the anger in Elliott’s voice. He moved forward in his seat. “We’re headed to the Patriot Center right now, want to join in on a little retribution?”

  “That’s why we’re here. What’s the plan?” asked Scar.

  Elliott gave him a stern look. “We’re just going to walk in and shoot the bastards.”

  Scar gave him a thumbs up.

  Elliott put the truck in gear and took off.

  Scar let up on the brake, swung the pickup around and stepped on the gas to catch up to them. He turned to Meeks. “It must have been pretty bad.”

  Chapter 17

  Blue Earth Minnesota

  The sun was getting lower in the sky when the two pickups pulled into the Patriot Center. There were several vehicles parked in the lot and more on the side of the street. The building, at one time, had been the home of an American Legion. No one came out to greet them. Scar and Meeks got out of their truck and joined Winters and Elliott, who gave them a nod.

  The pain of the day still rested on Winters’ mind as he followed Elliott across the parking lot. The last thing he needed was to repeat what happened earlier. He grimaced and furrowed his eyebrows at the thought of not having a plan of attack, but there seemed to be no stopping Elliott who wore a determined look.

  Meeks found the door unlocked and opened it for Elliott.

  They walked into what looked like a big open dance hall. Chairs were placed around the perimeter, leaving the center of the room empty. A disco ball hung from the ceiling.

  To the right was a long bar that stretched to the end of the room. Seated were four men and another one behind the bar, enjoying Happy Hour. Their drinks sat next to their rifles and all were smoking cigarettes. The smoke hung above them like a storm cloud. They looked over at the Shadow Patriots with little concern. No one even bothered to get up and welcome them.

  A slow smile formed on Winters' lips as he realized the five workers were relaxed and were sitting ducks. He slid his hand in his jacket and pulled out the Colt.

  The workers kept staring as the strangers approached. Their eyes grew wide when guns appeared. The alcohol they’d been drinking dulled their reflexes, and they were slow to respond.

  The four Shadow Patriots opened fire on them. The closest worker got the brunt of the deadly onslaught. The back of his head exploded in a shower of blood and bone fragments. His associate next to him tried to use him as a human shield but the shield toppled to the ground leaving him open to the barrage of bullets. He threw his hands out as if trying to stop them from slamming into his body, which caused him to bounce up before collapsing to the floor.

  The man behind the bar ducked and grabbed a shotgun, from underneath the bar. Meeks vaulted over the bar and squeezed off two quick rounds, hitting the bartender just as he raised the twelve-gage.

  The remaining two men jumped out of their seats. One made it two steps before Elliott and Scar cut him down. The other threw a table up and hid behind it. He peeked around it and returned fire.

  One bullet whizzed by Winters as he emptied his magazine into the table. Elliott moved to the left to flank him and shot at him twice. Both rounds hit him in the rib cage and toppled him over.

  The room went quiet.

  Winters looked at his companions with a glint in his eye then gave them a knowing grin.

  Scar and Meeks scooted across the room and cleared the restrooms. Winters and Elliott headed to the left side of the big hall and reached the first of two doors. He opened it cautiously only to find a storage room. They did the same to the second door and were looking into an empty office.

  Scar yelled from the far end of the room. “We’re good back here.”

  He and Meeks hurried back to the bar where Winters and Elliott stood waiting.

  “Well that’s that,” said Meeks.

  “A helluva lot easier than the drop-off location,” said Elliott looking at Winters.

  “So,
what happened up there?” asked Meeks.

  Elliott gave them an account. He didn’t lay blame on Winters but he didn’t absolve him either. Winters let him vent his anger, feeling he deserved it anyway.

  Afterward, Meeks told the story of their escape from the burning town.

  “Ironically, we were all in a firefight today,” said Meeks. “You guys in gunfire, and us with actual flames.”

  Scar angled his head back. “Kind of weird, but yeah.”

  “Let’s clean this place up and get out of here,” said Winters.

  “We should spend some time going through their papers,” suggested Elliott.

  “You want to do that while we load the bodies and clean up?” asked Winters.

  Elliott walked into the office as the others moved over to the dead. Meeks found some garbage bags and the three of them went to work.

  “Thank God these aren’t big ole dudes,” said Meeks sizing up the five bodies.

  Scar contorted his face. “Hells bells, look at this one, he’s got his brains all over the bar.”

  “That was my kill,” boasted Meeks.

  “Well then, you get to clean it up.”

  “Hmmm great. Tell me again Captain, why are we cleaning the place?”

  “If we can make it appear like these guys changed their minds and quit, it’ll create a little doubt for whoever’s in charge that we exist. Eventually, they’ll find out who we are, but I’m not going to help them do it.”

  “It damn well better work, cause this is disgusting,” said Meeks scooping brains off the bar with a towel and throwing them into a trash bag.

  The three of them loaded the bodies into the back of the pickup. Mops and paper towels were put to use as they spent over an hour cleaning up the blood and finding all the spent shell casings.

  “So, the military huh,” said Winters. “I just can’t believe they would do such a thing.”

  “I’m with you, Captain,” said the former Marine, Scar. “It breaks my heart to hear of my brothers in arms killing fellow Americans. I know history is filled with this type of thing but this blows me away.”