The Shadow Patriots Box Set

by Warren Ray

  “You didn’t put anything in your report about your conversations. I’m assuming he must have said something to you.”

  “Yes. He told me why they were attacking the Centers.”

  Nunn lifted his head. “And just what did the man say?”

  “He told me we’ve been killing all the volunteers.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  “No, sir.” Green paused for a moment. “Not at first.”

  Nunn put the report down and looked directly into Green’s eyes, waiting for him to finish his thoughts.

  “I called him a liar and a murderer. He told me if I didn’t believe him, then I should go back to the train station, and check out the field where there’s an open burial pit full of dead bodies.”

  “Did you go to the train station?”

  Green nodded.

  “And?”

  Green replied with intensity, “Just like he said. It’s filled with hundreds of dead bodies. Birds were feeding off the remains of citizens we’ve been killing and I want to know why?”

  “I don’t think I like your tone of voice, Major.”

  Green snapped back. “Quite frankly, Colonel, I don’t care. Please, enlighten me as to why we are killing those people?”

  “Certain facts were withheld on a need to know basis,” retaliated Nunn.

  “So, you’re not even going to try and deny it?”

  “I won’t insult your intelligence, Major. Of course, I know what’s going on, I’m in charge of this whole region. I know about everything.”

  “What about Commandant Boxer?”

  “He knows. Hell, it was his idea. He’s the one who took the idea to his superiors and they latched onto it.”

  “Why?” Green asked frustrated.

  “I don’t know why, Major.”

  Green knew this had to be a lie. Nunn was a shrewd man, and wouldn’t do anything if he didn’t know every detail of the operation. “I don’t believe you.”

  Nunn’s eyes got wide. “You listen here, Major. I’m following orders, just like you, and they come from the highest level of government.”

  “It’s an unlawful order.”

  Nunn snorted. “Unlawful. What does that even mean anymore? These days all the lines have been blurred.” He started gesturing with his hands. “The volunteers are being killed for a reason. They’re considered enemies of the state. This is our new reality and if you’re not careful, you too could end up in one of those pits.”

  Green reared back. “Are you threatening me, Colonel?”

  Nunn lowered his voice. “No Major, I’m not threatening you.” He paused and sighed. “I’m telling you to be careful. If you don’t follow the rules, you might find yourself in trouble. Not by me, but the National Police. I have no sway with them, and they have spies everywhere. You’d do well to remember that.”

  Green tried to grasp what Nunn had told him and thought about the concern in his voice as if he really was trying to look out for him. Learning the truth was reprehensible. Perhaps Nunn felt the same way, and didn’t agree with his assignment but had no choice in the matter. It could be the reason why the man was always in a foul mood.

  “So, we’re to do nothing?” Green asked.

  “That’s right. Besides, I received a report just before you came in. We have some Al Qaeda like terrorists running around killing people in Minnesota. I need for you to check it out.”

  Green looked surprised. “Al Qaeda, here? How many?”

  “I was told there was a small group that caused some trouble in Brainerd, Minnesota.”

  “How are we supposed to find them?” Green asked eagerly.

  “I’m trying to check in with the police, but they’re a little busy chasing your guys up on the Canadian border. I should have more intel later this afternoon on their whereabouts. So, by tomorrow you can go and do what we’ve been trained for. Listen, Major, I know what’s been happening is wrong, and extremely distasteful, but like I said, we live in a different time now. The best thing you can do right now is your job. So, I need you to focus. If we got some rag-heads stirring up trouble, I need your head back in the game.”

  Green walked out of Nunn’s office, satisfied he had a real assignment.

  Chapter 61

  Winnipeg Manitoba Canada

  Since arriving in Winnipeg, the Shadow Patriots were able to get some well-needed rest and relaxation. Many took advantage of the medical facilities to have their aches and pains massaged and anointed with soothing liniments.

  Winters wasn't fortunate enough to receive a soothing treatment for the wound in his arm. The gouge from Johnny-boy's bullet had scabbed over and turned dark red surround by a yellowish tinge. The doctor examined it and told him it was healing about as well as could be expected without stitches and that the area would be tender to the touch for some time.

  Winters shrugged his shoulders at that news.

  The Canadian military offered some basic tactical training, which included some top-notch instruction on the firing range.

  The men had a productive three days, and they would have liked to stay longer to hone their new skills. However, with an enemy running amok and wantonly killing Americans, they needed to get back.

  Winters tossed and turned in bed trying to fall to sleep. He looked up at the clock. The blue digital numbers read 4:30 am. He lay there and tried to remember if he had fallen asleep or just had some bad dreams about not falling asleep. He decided to get up and check on the equipment the Canadians had been so generous to give them. It included vehicles, food, weapons, ammo and two-way radios. None of which had any kind of Canadian or British markings.

  Taking refugees was one thing, but arming a force to fight against the American government was quite another. The two governments weren’t enemies, but then they weren’t exactly allies either.

  “Politics. Gets you in and out of trouble all at the same time,” thought Winters, as he got out of bed.

  He grabbed his freshly washed clothes, put them up to his nose, and inhaled deeply. They reminded him of home where there were always clean clothes. Winters walked out of his room and into the long narrow hallway, passing the closed doors of bedrooms, where his men were still sleeping. He reached the end of the hall and opened the door. The night was clear and chilly enough to vaporize your breath. He zipped up his jacket and walked over to the vehicles.

  “Can’t sleep either?” asked Elliott in a low voice, trying not to startle Winters.

  “Elliott, didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Get any sleep?”

  Winters thought for a second. “I’m not sure if I did or not. You?”

  “Couple of hours maybe. Couldn’t stop thinking about everything. Just can’t believe our own government would bring jihadis here.”

  Winters shook his head. “Too painful to think about, which is why most people probably wouldn’t even believe us. Easier to assume we’re liars instead of having to face the truth.”

  Elliott relaxed his stance. “Well, if they hadn’t been trying to kill us, I can’t say I’d believe it either.”

  “Question is—can we stop them?”

  They milled around the trucks and checked the gear and the condition of the vehicles. They then walked over to the mess hall and found they were not the only ones up early. The big cafeteria was bustling with people, some just getting off work and others going on. They grabbed a tray and took ample helpings of what would be their last hot breakfast for a while.

  As the two of them walked in, Winters had noticed some of the military personnel looked up from their plates to watch him and Elliott get in line at the cafeteria. Since arriving at the base, the Shadow Patriots had garnered a lot of attention and gossip. Everyone had been generous in welcoming and assisting them. Winters turned his head to the left and received nods from a table of British Special Forces. Winters wondered if they were just now getting up to train or had already finished.

  As daybreak broke, all the Shadow Patriots were up
preparing for the day. They would re-enter America as they left, through Minnesota. Late last night, the Brits intercepted a National Police radio transmission confirming that Al Qaeda had been located on Hwy 10 and were headed toward Detroit Lakes, Minnesota.

  Winters finished his breakfast and decided to grab a shower before they left. He had no idea when he’d have the opportunity to take another one.

  Once again, he had to force himself to shut off the water off. An endless supply of hot water was an open invitation to lose one’s sense of time.

  After getting dressed, he packed his gear and went back to the mess hall.

  He walked up to where Scar and Meeks were sitting. “Eat up guys, got a big day ahead of us.”

  Meeks looked up. “How far is it?”

  Winters sat down. “About 250 miles, give or take. We’re not exactly taking the most direct route.”

  “Got to avoid them National Pooolice,” Meeks said snickering. “I can’t imagine they’d want to miss us yet again.”

  Scar laughed. “Well, if they only knew what we’re packing now, they might think differently.”

  “You got a point, Mr. Scarborough,” said Meeks. “Why, I’ll bet we could just blast our way through the border crossing.”

  Nate yelled out in agreement. “Hell yeah, we could.”

  All the men sitting at the table started laughing at Meeks as he described, animatedly, how the cops would react once they saw him coming at them.

  Winters noticed Mr. Peterson at another table, so he got up and walked over.

  “Mr. Peterson, I sure am going to miss having you around.”

  He scooted over for Winters. “Well Cole, it’s been a grand adventure being with you and the boys. Getting chased into the unknown has made me feel alive again. Makes you appreciate life. Someday, when this is all over, you’ll look back with pride on what you’ve done. You’ll especially miss the guys.”

  “I’m not so sure you’re right about it being over someday.”

  “All wars end at some point,” reassured Mr. Peterson.

  After a few minutes of conversation, they both stood up and firmly gripped each other’s hands. Winters was glad to have met Mr. Peterson, he was wise and had a good attitude about life. He was sure to run into him again since Colonel Brocket had invited him to stay in Canada. He would help with any other refugees Winters was able to send their way. They would give them some training and get them ready if they wanted to go back and help.

  An hour later, Winters, Scar and Meeks, were once again, passengers in another SUV driven by Elliott. A convoy of twenty vehicles consisting of trucks and cars followed. They had crossed the border about ten miles west of Noyes, Minnesota cutting across farmland. They headed east, toward Detroit Lakes. Cars, which were all over the place in Canada, disappeared once they got back into the States.

  Winters looked around. “Kind of strange to see it so desolate.”

  Elliott tapped the dash with his right hand. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but I kinda miss being in traffic.”

  Winters turned to the back. “When was the last time any of us sat in a traffic jam?”

  “It’s been a while,” said Scar.

  Meeks smacked the side window. “I don’t miss it one bit. Hey, you think them Jijis are already there, Captain?”

  “Probably so, Colonel Brocket said they’ve got transportation now, so I’d think so.”

  “Well hell, there’s your traffic jam,” said Meeks.

  “Once we get close, we’ll pull over and do some recon,” said Winters.

  “Now that we’ve got radios, it’ll be a heck of a lot easier to plan on the fly,” said Scar.

  Chapter 62

  Detroit Lakes Minnesota

  Green sat in the lead Humvee with his young corporal, Josh Bassett, in the backseat as they headed to Detroit Lakes. He couldn’t stop thinking how strange, his confrontation with Nunn had been. Green had never seen anyone act so bipolar. One moment, Nunn is arrogant and angry, the next he's defensive but then defeated. It had to be frustrating to admit you know what is happening is wrong, but there was nothing you could do about it. That defeatist attitude had to be because his bosses had kept him out of jail, and were holding that card over his head. Selling your soul. Hell of a price to pay. The idea sent a shiver up Green's spine

  The surprise from their confrontation was that Nunn, for the first time, had actually shown some genuine concern. Green wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he did appreciate the advice. Maybe things would be better between them in the future.

  At least he had a real mission and hoped to work out some lingering hostilities. Colonel Nunn confirmed that the terrorists were in Detroit Lakes. The National Police had spotted them and said they were headed there, burning anything and everything in their path. This is what Green and his soldiers were supposed to be doing, defending American citizens.

  An hour later, they had gone through a small town that had been set ablaze. This was a sure sign their enemy had been through. There was no one was around to question what had happened. They would just have to plow forward and find out for themselves.

  “We’re coming up on Detroit Lakes,” said his driver.

  “Take the next left, Sergeant,” said Green, noticing some smoke coming from that direction.

  The five Humvees turned into the town. Green keyed up the radio and ordered his men to arm the M2’s. Corporal Bassett got up into the turret and racked the lever. They continued on North Shore Drive. Houses on the left had been built on the lakefront with an abundance of trees providing abundant shade to the neighborhood. A high school football field sat across the street. As they drove through this apparent tranquility, suddenly, two men, dressed in Arab garb and carrying AK-47's, strolled into the street. When they became aware of the Humvees, they turned and ran for cover.

  “Fire!” ordered Green.

  Bassett squeezed the trigger. The hail of lead caught both men in the back throwing them to the ground dead.

  They pulled up to the dead men. Green hopped out, crept around the Humvee and checked the bodies. Definitely Middle Eastern. He rose and looked up the street.

  Vehicles were coming straight at them.

  He hustled back around to the passenger side. As he opened the door, he turned to discover even more vehicles coming from their rear.

  Green growled. This was an ambush and they were in for a fight.

  He grabbed the radio-mic. “We got Tangos in both directions. Back these trucks up.”

  The drivers scrambled the Humvees onto the lawns to form a fighting position. The soldiers fell out of the Humvees with weapons at the ready. The gunners remained in the turrets and let loose with the M2’s, giving them cover.

  The neighborhood exploded with gunfire echoing through the streets.

  The enemy stopped about seventy yards away to abandon their vehicles and take up positions along the streets.

  Green grabbed his binoculars to survey the battleground. Tangos had taken positions by the houses and behind several cars. He grunted because he knew they were in trouble. They were boxed in.

  “Someone screwed up the intel on this one, Major,” screamed Lieutenant Crick into the radio. “We’ve got a small battalion here.”

  Bullets snapped and whistled around Green as he took a final look through the binoculars. The enemy had taken casualties, but they had an overwhelming force. Crick was right, a small battalion.

  “Sergeant,” Green yelled at his driver. “Take a squad and clear those houses behind us.” He looked up at Bassett. “How’s it looking, Corporal?”

  “We can hold them off for a while. They’re very unorganized and their shots are chaotic, sir.”

  “AT4,” ordered Green to the men on his right.

  A private reached inside the Humvee as bullets bounced off the truck. Out came the deadly weapon. He pulled the pin before flipping up the iron sights and applying pressure to the trigger.

  Green watched the rocket-propelled
grenade slice through the air at almost three hundred meters a second.

  It struck the enemies barricade dead-on. The explosion threw men up in the air killing them before they hit the ground. The remaining Tangos scurried away from the car as it exploded in a fireball.

  Green’s men let out with a hearty cheer. But their exuberance was short-lived as the enemy found new positions and threatened to overwhelm them with their superior numbers.

  At some point, Green figured these guys would come at them all at once, and they would then be in a fight for their lives.

  Chapter 63

  The Shadow Patriots approached Detroit Lakes from the west side of town and stopped their trucks to decide how they should enter the city. As soon as they exited the SUV, they heard a familiar crackling noise in the distance.

  “Is that gunfire?” asked Winters rhetorically.

  “Damn terrorists must already be shooting up the place,” said Meeks.

  They moved to the front of the SUV and listened. Burns and Murphy joined them.

  “Sounds more like a gun battle,” said Scar.

  “Think the townspeople are defending themselves?” asked Winters.

  Meeks added. “Damn well ain’t the cops.”

  “It’s a heated exchange, whoever it is,” said Burns.

  “Got some .50 cal in there too,” said Scar to Burns.

  “Yeah…that’s M2 for sure,” stated Burns.

  “We need to recon this right away. Scar, what do you think?” asked Winters.

  Scar pulled out a map and placed it on the hood of the SUV. “Meeks and I can go to the east side, and let’s have Burns and Murphy go west. There’s a school here.”

  “Elliott and I can check that out,” interrupted Winters.

  Leaving the rest of the vehicles and men there to guard the north end. Elliott coasted their SUV down Roosevelt Ave toward the school while the others took off to recon their flanks.

  Winters rolled his window down and scanned the houses. He didn’t notice any townspeople, not that he expected any. Everyone was either hiding or took off while they could. As they got closer, Winters held up binoculars. He found the source of the gunfire right away.