Jim laughed at the comment.
“Alysin, you’re not supposed to tell them that. It defeats the whole purpose of the code,” Lily said quietly to her friend, but not enough that the Sheriff didn’t hear it.
Jim Watson looked over his charges with amazement. “The ‘Tin Foil Hat Club’. You’re serious?”
Chester just shrugged his response.
The four crossed the street and walked up the steps into the Sheriff’s Office.
“Ya’ll want some coffee or something?” Jim asked.
“That’d be great!” Alysin announced. “Do you have any brioche?”
“Fresh out,” he said sarcastically. “Where did you guys find this one?” Jim said to her two companions.
“She’s a little strange, but she’s brilliant in a lab,” Chester offered.
The man scoffed and replied under his breath, “I wouldn’t trust her with a butter knife.”
“Hi, Uncle Jim,” Scott Watson said as he entered Jim’s office.
“Scooter, what are you doing here? It’s not even six in the morning,” the Sheriff said surprised to see his nephew.
“I’m an adult now,” the young man replied incredulously. “Please stop calling me that.”
“Right, sorry. I forgot. So why are you here? Why are you wearing your suit?”
“I’ve got a date,” he answered. “With a girl,” he added for clarity.
“Really?” Jim replied shocked. “Who’s the lucky gal?”
“Katherine Simmons,” Scott said matter of factly.
“Josh’s daughter?” Alysin asked intrigued. “Not good. The girls don’t like boys. They do bad things,” she quietly said to herself.
Chester approached her quickly and whispered, “Sweetie, you should excuse yourself and try and hide the crazy.”
“Where’s the toilet? I need to pee,” Alysin blurted out.
Lily groaned at her lack of etiquette.
“Down the hall, third door on the left,” Jim replied oblivious to her societal misstep.
Chester waited until she was out of ear shot before asking, “If you’re headed that way, would you mind if we followed you?”
“What’s wrong with her?” Scott asked the pair without answering Chester’s question.
“She has a touch of Asperser’s Syndrome,” Lily offered.
“Oh, like high functioning autism. My friend has that. Is she gonna be all right? She seemed kind of upset,” he asked concerned.
“She’ll be fine. She just needs a quiet place to relax for a few minutes,” Chester replied.
Scott accepted the explanation and then turned to his uncle, “I can run them over there if you want.”
If Sheriff Watson was anything, he was observant. It didn’t take a PhD to know that this group of collected oddities clearly knew Josh and his daughters. At a minimum they were aware of the kidnapping.
He placed the phone back in the cradle and said, “It’s about a fifteen mile drive. You guys have enough fuel for that?”
“Oh, yeah. We’ve got half a tank,” Chester said confidently.
“Then why do you need gas?” the Sheriff asked.
“You should never let it get below half full. Everyone knows that, Sheriff,” Chester answered with wide beaming smile.
Jim just shook his head. They’re definitely Josh’s kind of crazy. “Go on, get out here.”
“Excellent!” Lily said emphatically. “Chester, go get the truck. I’ll get Alysin.” She then turned to Scott and said, “Where are you parked.”
“Out back. Meet you there?” Scott answered.
“Excellent!” she replied again in a chipper tone.
The pair departed to collect their travel companion and vehicle. Before Scott exited his uncle’s office, Jim asked, “So you have a date with Katherine, do ya? Why are you in a suit at six in the morning?”
“She said surprise her,” Scott replied proudly.
“At six in the morning?” the Sheriff said incredulously.
“I told her seven, but I didn’t say AM or PM.”
His uncle reached in his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. He pulled a twenty-dollar bill from the billfold and said, “You’re a little early. Take those three over to the diner and get ‘em some breakfast before you head over. They don’t look like they’ve eaten much lately.”
* * *
The driveway alarms chimed in succession as Scott and the Tin Hatters made their way down from the road. The inside of the cabin was a flurry of activity as men quickly awoke and scrambled over themselves and their gear strewn about on the floor.
“What the hell is that? Is that an alarm? Positions!” Hoplite barked out the command to the other two operators. The three had been given the couches and a cot in the living room after they arrived the night before.
Ed Monahan flew down the stairs and asked, “Sitrep?”
Hoplite worked his way to the front window and saw the two approaching vehicles.
“We got two inbound,” he decreed. “Unknown number of occupants.”
The two vehicles parked in front of the cabin.
“Positions,” Hoplite said in a hushed tone.
The four travelers approached the front door. When Scott knocked, the door swung open, and Hoplite gave his booming command, “Go! Go! Go!”
The armed protectorate came flying out at Scott and the Tin Hatters with weapons drawn, safeties off.
“Get on your faces!” one of the men barked as he shoved him on to the porch decking.
Before the four knew what hit them, they were on their stomachs with a knee in their spine and a hand clamped down on the back of the neck.
Alysin was crying hysterically while Chester screamed, “Get off of me you steroid infused dirtbag!”
Scott called out, “This is a mistake! We can explain! We can explain!”
“Don’t move, or we will shoot you,” came the calm order from Agent Ed Monahan.
“Mister,” Scott said. “There’s been a misunderstanding. Call Mr. Simmons. He knows who we are.”
“What’s going on down here?” President Sarkes said as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.
Samantha pushed her way past him in her bathrobe and came through the front door. “What happened,” she asked as she inspected the contorted faces pressed into the decking of the porch.
“We were asleep and then some alarm got tripped,” Hoplite replied. “These two vehicles were approaching. We subdued the hostiles.”
“We’re no such thing you indifferent prick!” Lily shot at them.
Samantha stood up and looked at Ed. “I’ve never seen these people before. Better call Josh,” she said as she reentered the cabin.
“Yes! Yes! Call him and tell him that the Tin Foil Hat Club has returned,” Chester bemoaned under the pressure on his chest.
Sam stopped and turned.
“What did you say? Cap, stand him up, please.”
Captain Carlos ‘Hoplite’ Rayna had successfully navigated the convoy to the farm the previous evening. Without warning, they found themselves in a firefight near the town of Chillicothe as they worked the back roads toward Josh’s cabin. The wounded were being treated at the Martinez’s home. In all, they lost two Secret Service Agents, four had minor flesh wounds, and the Whiskey Three SUV was disabled and left on the side of the road. President Sarkes’ armored sedan had been jettisoned when the Agent Smith imposter had been assassinated. The remaining personnel were bivouacked with their haulers. Roving armed patrols had been circulating throughout the night.
Hoplite grabbed him by the back of his jacket and assisted Chester to his feet. The other three remained face down.
“Who are you,” Samantha asked the man as he brushed himself off.
“My name is Chester Daniels. That’s Lily Summers and the crying one is Alysin Baker. We are the Tin Foil Hat Club,” he said proudly.
“Chester Daniels? Seriously? Is there anyone Mr. Simmons doesn’t seem to know?” the President said incr
edulously as he turned and reentered the cabin.
“And the young man?” Sam said as she gestured toward Scott.
“I’m Scott Walker. I’m the Sheriff’s nephew,” he managed to say under the pressure on his spine.
“I didn’t know Jim had one,” she remarked.
“He does. I swear. I have a date with Katherine.”
“Stand them up, please,” Samantha ordered.
Once they were all standing, Sam looked at Scott and menacingly said, “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”
“Mr. Daniels,” she started to say as she directed her full attention to the other three. “I was under the impression that there were five of you. Where are the other two?”
“They didn’t make it,” Lily answered for him.
“I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?” she asked in a concerned tone.
“One of these trigger happy part time idiots fired his weapon while they were distributing food in Portland,” she offered in disgust. “The city went mad after that. Damn near burned the whole thing to the ground.”
“We haven’t heard anything about that. If that were true it would be all over the news,” Sam answered politely.
“I imagine you wouldn’t. Not when the idiots in D.C. control the press,” Lily replied indignantly in the former President’s direction.
Chester could see that she was about to unleash her fury and turned to her, “Maybe you should sit in the truck and put the crazy back in the bottle.”
The key to the Tin Foil Hat Club’s survival off of heavy medication had been their unwavering and, sometimes, brutal honesty with each other. This served to keep each other in check. When one started to get amped up, one of the others would gently remind them to control it, like Josh had suggested. In truth, Dr. Vandersal had been preaching the same thing, but she wasn’t able to speak their version of crazy.
Off in the distance, Samantha heard the Rhino approaching. “Speak of the devil, here he comes now.”
The assembled mass on the front porch turned to see Josh round the cabin and park the ATV in front of the recently arrived vehicles in the drive.
Before anyone had a chance to tell him what had happened, Josh exclaimed, “Chester! Is that you?! Alysin, why are you crying, sweetie?”
Alysin extracted herself from her captors grip and ran to Josh. She leapt into his arms and began showering him with kisses. Samantha was shocked by the display. Lily slammed the truck door closed and approached as well. Chester stepped off the porch and worked his way over too.
Scott started to get up from the bench he had been placed in and was immediately halted by Sam, “I’m not finished with you, young man. You stay right there.”
“Where’s Reginald and Algernon?” Josh asked.
Alysin stopped her grateful child-like display and slid down his body. Her mood turned sorrowful.
“What is it? What happened to Reggie and Al?” he said again.
“They got blown up,” Alysin replied mournfully.
“What! Where? What happened?” Josh exclaimed.
He looked over the faces of the newest arrivals for answers. They were dirty and gaunt. Lily’s teeth were chattering in the cold February morning.
“All right, let’s get inside,” Josh decreed. “Showers and a change of clothes and then we’ll debrief. Sound good?” he said as he rubbed his hands on Alysin’s back to warm her up.
Chapter 20
“By Allah!” Suhrab said as he took the binoculars down.
“What? What do you see?” his compatriot asked.
“I see an old friend,” he said as he exhaled and handed the glasses to him.
Mahtab eagerly grabbed them and looked down across the field.
“You’ve got to be joking,” the man replied. “Sir, if he’s down there the element of surprise is lost. We should have killed him and left him to rot in those caves.”
“It’s too late now. We’ve come too far. We need to keep them busy until Abbas completes his mission.”
“If they figure out what they have in their possession they can use it against us,” Mahtab answered emphatically.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that then, shall we,” his leader replied cooly.
“There are only a few of us left. We’ve been chasing this caravan for over a thousand miles. We can’t just walk in there. He knows your face... and mine.”
Suhrab thought for a few moments before responding. When he did, he said, “With our dwindling numbers, you’re right, we can’t go in there. Given that, we’ll have to wait and see what they plan on doing and make a decision based on that.”
He then turned to look at his comrade, “We have taken part in many battles. We have lost numerous friends. If this is to be our last, then it is by Allah’s will. Keep watching. I’m going to check on Navid and the others.”
After spending half an hour working his way through the dense forest and underbrush around the farm, Suhrab made it to the second group. Only five remained from the original eight. The English, through their Iranian handlers, had signaled for them to all meet in Denver and track the convoys. They had been highly effective in crippling the machines so the British units could swoop in and clean up.
Unfortunately, one of the group members was snared by the FBI while exiting a mosque. Taj and another insurgent had been killed in the shootout near Chillicothe.
Navid was the best marksmen in the group, but he was brash and prone to impulsive behavior. Without orders, he had disabled an Arleigh Burke class ship and taken the shot to eliminate the English Watcher that had infiltrated the Secret Service. The first act nearly got him executed for insubordination. The second almost saw them all captured.
Suhrab’s close friend, Taj, went down while coming to Navid’s aid during the fire fight. For reasons unknown, Navid had foolishly attempted a frontal assault. When he became pinned down, Taj was gunned down in the crossfire trying to assist his brother in arms. During the exchange, a member of Gregg’s old unit had captured the directional EMP device that his compatriot had been carrying.
As he stealthily approached, he heard the impetuous man flip the safety off.
“Don’t you dare!” he said angrily in a hushed tone. “We’re not ready for that. Any more stupid moves on your part and I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in you myself!”
* * *
Josh was in the kitchen listening to the radio fixing President Sarkes some breakfast when the station began broadcasting an emergency message. Josh stopped what he was doing and began listening intently.
“What’s this all about? There isn’t any severe weather headed our way,” he said to the President as he continued reading the paper.
“We interrupt this regularly scheduled broadcast for a brief statement from President Rayburn in the Oval Office...” the voice said over the airwaves.
“Turn that up!” Sarkes commanded from his chair.
Josh began bellowing names, “Sam! Brent! Gregg! Hoplite! Come quick! Hurry! Now!”
In seconds, the four were standing in the kitchen listening as he started his address.
“My fellow Americans,” he began. “As many in the finance industry may already be aware, numerous countries currently holding our nation’s debt are preparing for a run at our assets. While the debts are legitimate, the manner in which they intend to redeem that debt, is highly illegal.”
“Oh, Lord. Here we go,” Sarkes said under his breath.
“Several months ago, the British Prime Minister, a Mr. Harold Goodspeed,” he said and paused for emphasis, “At the behest of King George, approached the Chairman of the Federal Reserve, the Secretary of the Treasury, and myself. At that time, a shady, backdoor, and highly unethical proposal was offered whereby the United Kingdom attempted to broker an exchange of our debt without utilizing the open market. This was solely a political maneuver designed to keep panic off of the streets of London should that nation’s citizens learn their country was on the verge of financial ruin.
“We respectfully declined the King’s offer and urged them to engage the markets which they were legally and contractually obligated.”
President Sarkes actually laughed at the statement, “Respectfully declined... that’s rich.”
Samantha turned and shushed him.
Rayburn continued his speech and explained, “In response to our refusal, the Prime Minister, again under the direction of King George, set himself to a singular purpose. That is the ruination of these United States by any and all means.
“To begin, the British partnered with every nation holding even a dollar of our debt. Most of these are former oil producers in the Middle East, South America, and Africa. From there, this collection of countries rewrote and added dozens of international finance laws in closed-door meetings. They did so without the input or approval of the UN governing body. It is in this act alone that we have deemed any action taken by this group of rouge nations as illegal.
“Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. Many of you across this great nation’s heartland have seen firsthand the depths with which –”
The radio went silent.
Josh reached over and turned the volume up. Nothing. He changed the channel and found other stations still broadcasting.
“Where did he go?” Samantha asked.
“I have no idea,” Josh replied frustrated. He moved the dial back. When he landed on the original frequency, the group heard, “There appears to be some technical difficulty in the Oval Office. Please stand by as we try and resolve the issue.”
“While we wait,” Hoplite started to say, “Have you given any thought as to where we can stash this stuff? There’s no way we are making it to Cleveland.”
“Yup,” Josh replied quickly. “I had Brent call his replacement in the Pentagon about an hour ago.”
The man turned to the retired Four Star and said, “What did you ask for?”
“I said we needed some engineers, their bridging equipment, and some bang,” he replied nonchalantly.
“What are you guys planning on doing?” the Captain said directly.
Hannibal is at the Gates Page 20