by Nathan Combs
Ransom was intimidated. This guy was smart like Colonel. Maybe Colonel sent him to test me. He decided to tell the guy whatever he wanted to know.
After Ransom explained the workings of Nirvana and where they were located, Horst saw an opportunity. “You’re going to take me to your boss. Leave someone else in charge here. I’ll need a fresh horse too.”
Ransom was afraid to argue, so he put Billie Bob in charge and told him to be back at Fort Oglethorpe by dark tomorrow with more women. The next morning, Ransom took Horst to meet Colonel.
The Colonel’s quarters were in a gated 5,000 square foot home complete with guards. The polished mahogany doors opened to a large foyer, and Ransom led the way down a wide hallway towards a room at the end. Just before they reached the door, Flight of the Valkyries blared from hidden speakers. The volume was deafening, and Horst winced. Ransom was either deaf or used to it, or both. He ignored it, knocked on the door, and stood back with his hands folded at his crotch. Barely audible above the Valkyries, a tinny voice from a speaker by the door told them to come in. When they entered the room, 450 pounds of bloated glory wearing what appeared to be a white silk dinner jacket—but could have been a tent—was sitting at a polished cherry wood desk. A small, cream-colored French Poodle was perched on the broad expanse of his lap, head up, tongue lolling.
Colonel held up his hand to pause their advance into the room and said, “Wait. Gotta let them finish flying.” He pantomimed an orchestra conductor until, mercifully, the flight ended. The sudden silence was almost as loud as the music.
“So, Ransom, who’s our new friend here?”
After the introductions, Horst turned to Ransom and said, “You’re excused.”
“Huh?”
“Leave us.”
Ransom looked at Simmons. “Colonel?”
“It’s fine, Ransom. Wait outside. What can I do for you, Mr. Nagel?”
“Ask not what you can do for me. Ask what I can do for you.”
“You related to Kennedy, or a student of history?”
Horst smiled. “Neither. But you have a major problem. You just don’t know about it.”
“I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me. Would you like a drink?”
“Not if it’s that piss your guys are drinking.”
Simmons laughed. “Do I look like a moron, Mr. Nagel? No. Good Scotch whiskey.”
Simmons poured them two fingers each and handed the crystal tumbler to Horst. “So, what’s my problem?”
“How far north have your men gone?”
“Athens. For now.”
“Unless you listen to me, that’s as far north as you’ll ever get.”
“I’m listening.”
“Have you ever heard of the ORNL?”
“Of course.”
“What do you know about it?”
“They did research work there.”
“Yeah. They did. Now it’s a fort. And it has a working nuclear reactor. It’s staffed by about a hundred former FPS troopers and protected by two hundred fifty former SPECOPS soldiers. It’s now called Fort Hope, and it has a population of about four thousand. I used to work there. Trust me, Colonel. When they find out about your little operation, they’re gonna take you out.”
Chapter Ten
Coup
Wade sat at the “command desk” in the ops center, which in reality was a simple metal government monstrosity, while Stuart perched on one corner. “The team going to Fort Oglethorpe will be up to you, Wade, but personally, I think Little Soldier should be included.”
“Absolutely. He’s going. This is important, Stu. Let’s send the A-team: Bill, Cole, and Tyler. Bill’s checking the perimeter fence, and Cole’s working with some of the new people on tactical procedures. Where’s Tyler?”
“He’s at Zion. He’s scheduled to be back within the hour. How about we all meet back here at 1500 hours?”
“Perfect. We have two hours. Let’s go grab a bite. I’m starved.”
Wade and Stu left the ops center. They almost didn’t know what to do with the free time, having not had any in so long. Maggie and Adam were with Wade for the whole week and, while Wade paced, Maggie made him a couple of peanut butter sandwiches, then they walked hand in hand to the school to surprise Adam. Stuart stayed at the cafeteria, enjoying the solitude and knowledge that they wouldn’t be attacked. He closed his eyes. It was warm and peaceful, and within minutes he was sawing logs.
The walk from the cafeteria to the school was less than fifty yards and, during that short time, Maggie and Wade passed dozens of people who looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders. Relaxed and smiling, they nodded, and several stopped to chat for a moment before continuing on their journey. Adam was thrilled to have his mom and dad at school and, his little chest puffed with pride, he took both their hands and introduced them to his classmates.
After a fifteen-minute visit, Wade hugged Maggie and Adam and headed back to the ops center just as Bill, Cole, and Tyler headed there to meet with him and Stuart.
Wade brought the trio up to speed, then couldn’t resist adding some levity. “So that’s the mission. You get to pretend to be dumb ass rednecks. The beauty of it is, some of you don’t have to pretend. Right, Bill?”
Bill looked at Cole and Tyler. “He used to be one of the world’s biggest smartasses. Then his sense of humor went AWOL. If it’s back, trust me, we’re fucked.”
Wade laughed.
Stuart, Cole, and Tyler looked confused.
“What Bill means is we used to hassle each other mercilessly. And I always came out on top. He’s getting old and senile, but his memory still works. He’s dreading a return to the old days where his ass was kicked verbally on a regular basis.”
Bill smirked. “Is that right? If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be trying to figure out how to load your fuckin’ weapon.”
After the chuckling ended, Wade said, “All right. These guys could turn out to be a different type of Light, although it doesn’t sound like they’re cannibals. On the other hand, I don’t trust any group led by someone calling himself the Colonel like it’s a crown of glory. You can’t go down there looking like SPECOPS, so stash your gear before you make contact. And wear some clothes that’ll make you look like a redneck.”
“What kind of clothes might that be, boss?”
“Hell, Tyler, I don’t know. Jeans and white socks? Find an empty Pabst Blue Ribbon can and strap it to your vest. Whatever. Try to blend in. Leave at first light. Be back in three days. If you’re not here, we’ll have to send in the cavalry. And you know I don’t want to do that.”
Bill, Cole, and Tyler left Fort Hope at 0400. They were in Fort Oglethorpe, on top of the old Lowes Home Improvement building just off Red Bud Ave by dusk. Tents and campfires and a lot of houses emitting smoke from chimneys were visible in every direction.
Tyler said, “Whoa. I wasn’t expecting this. We shoulda brought respirators. How are we gonna play it?”
Tyler and Cole looked expectantly at Bill.
“Gotta agree, Tyler. Way more people here than I anticipated. They’re scattered all over hell and gone, which is kinda weird for an organized group. Wouldn’t you say?”
Cole said, “Yeah, it is. Way I see it, we have two options. Snatch one of them and get him to spill his guts or just walk in like we belong.”
“Okay. Tyler?”
“What? We’re takin’ a vote?”
“Hell, no, we’re not takin a vote. I was just being polite, you being such a sensitive little shit and all. We’ll stash our gear behind the A/C unit up here. My guess is the most senior members—whatever they’re called—live in the houses, and the dweebs live in the tents. We’re goin’ for the tents. Tyler, you and I will walk into that campsite over there,” and he pointed. “That’s
about a hundred yards. Cole, you’ll cover from here. I realize a hundred yards is a long shot for you Delta pussies, but do your best.”
Cole grinned. “Hitch your panties up and hop on down there, frog-boy. The real pro’s got your back.”
Tyler shook his head. “Come on, guys. Be serious.”
Bill sneered. “We are being serious, Tyler. That’s why we’re bonding. If you woulda paid attention during those four years you spent in the tenth grade you’d understand. When we get there, I’ll do the talking. You act like the dumb ass you are. Cole, if things look okay, I’ll give you the sign to come in.”
Tyler grinned. “Did we just bond, Bill?”
“Fuck, yeah. Let’s go.”
“Wait. What’s the sign for me to come in?”
“If we don’t get into a firefight in the first minute or so, that means you can get your worthless ass off the roof and come on down.”
“Do we know each other or am I traveling alone?”
Bill snorted. “If these guys are as dumb as it sounds, I doubt that’ll be a problem. If it becomes one, we’ll wing it.”
The Colonel smiled at Horst and said, “You either over-estimate them or under-estimate us, Mr. Nagel. My guess is it’s a bit of both.”
“No, Colonel. You’re wrong. And because you’re wrong, you’re going to die. It’s that simple. You’re the one over-estimating your ability. You don’t understand what you’ll be goin’ up against. These guys have Bradleys, Hummers, mortars, sat-phones, and other high-tech equipment. You’ve heard of the five-day war? History, if it’s even recorded, will refer to this little skirmish as the one-minute battle. They’re ex-special forces. They’ll grind you up without breaking a sweat.”
That got Colonel’s attention. “Assuming I believe you, Mr. Nagel, I have four questions. One—why are you warning me? Two—what do you suggest I do about it? Three—I’m sure you aren’t doing this for nothing—what do you want? And four—I assume that TL on your forehead isn’t a birthmark—what does it represent?”
“Providing you give me what I want, I’ll reorganize your dysfunctional army into a fighting force. It’s the only chance you’ll have. Even then, there won’t be any guarantees. They’re that good. Their commander carved the mark on my forehead. It represents a group of nine hundred soldiers that were a thousand times better than your guys will ever be. I was there when they killed every last one of them.”
“So, I assume you weren’t the captain, thus didn’t go down with the ship?”
“They cut me loose because of a debt they owed me. And, no, I wasn’t the captain, but I went down just the same. The difference is, the captain of that ship is DOA, and I got carved up and kicked out.”
Colonel was silent.
Horst waited a long minute.
Simmons said, “So how long before the enemy’s at the gates and what exactly do you want?”
Bill and Tyler stood outside the circle of firelight and listened to the four guys talking.
Tyler whispered. “What the fuck kind of language are they speaking?”
“That, my young friend, is pure Georgia redneck.”
“Then you’d better tell ’em I’m a mute, ’cause I damn sure can’t speak that shit.”
Bill grinned into the darkness and, nudging Tyler’s shoulder, they strolled nonchalantly into the campsite. “Hey, ya’ll.”
The men looked up, nodded, and went back to their mason jars.
“Don’t wanna ruin you boys’ night or nuthin’, but we jest got here from down south aways. What’s goin’ on? Can we share a cup with ya?”
One of the men got up and extended his hand. “Mah name’s Tobin.”
Tobin and Bill shook hands.
“I’m Bill, and this is mah little buddy Tyler. He don’t talk much, but he’s a good shit.”
Tobin and Tyler shook hands. Tobin stepped to the nearest man, a skinny guy wearing a Donald Duck hat, and placed both hands on his head. “This here moron’s Clyde.”
Clyde grinned, showing both of his brown front teeth.
“This ’n here’s Pope, but we call him Poop, and the fat ass over there drinkin’ all our fuckin’ booze is Maury.”
Pope grinned and nodded, and Maury raised his mason jar.
“Hey, Clyde. Hey, Poop. Hey, Maury. Got any extr’ shine? We’re a mite thirsty.”
Within fifteen minutes, Bill had the intel he needed. He and Tyler stood to leave, and Bill addressed Tobin. “We’re headin’ over Huntsville way, so we best git goin’. I do thank ya’ll fer yer hospitality. ’N fer the shine too. That’s sum good shit.”
“You shud stay ’til mornin’. Go visit the Bitch Pool ’n git yerselfs a woman fer the night. Git yer ashes hauled and keep ya warm ’til sunup.”
“Might jes do tha’, Tobin. How’d we git there?”
Tobin gave directions, and Bill and Tyler sauntered out of the campsite and headed back to Lowes. When they were out of earshot, Tyler said, “You gotta be kidding me.”
Bill was stoic and exhaled heavily. “Those motherfuckers are right out of the movie Deliverance.”
“No shit. I was waiting for the asshole wearing the Donald Duck hat to start yelling ‘squeal like a pig.’”
Horst moved nonchalantly to the window behind the Colonel’s desk. He stood looking out with his hands clasped behind his back. “I can’t provide you with an exact time. But it won’t be long. You have men in Athens. They send patrols out that far. It’s not a question of if they find you; it’s a question of when. My guess is it will be soon.”
“Do they have Ham radio communications?”
“Did the Pope live in Rome? It’s the ORNL, for Christ’s sake. They have a nuclear reactor. Of course they have Ham radio. Why?”
“Because we’ve been broadcasting our location and inviting people to join us.”
“For how long?”
“A week.”
“Then you have no time at all. The enemy, as you so elegantly put it, is likely at the gates even as we speak.”
“So what do you want in exchange for your assistance, Mr. Nagel?”
“Well, see, that’s the thing. Frankly, I’m concerned about anyone who would call himself Colonel like it was a first name, instead of using it as a title. Kinda like The Ohio State University. That only sounds right to people from Ohio. So inquiring minds want to know. Is Colonel your first name or is it a title you gave yourself?”
“I fail to see the relevance, Mr. Nagel, so I’ll ask the question again. What do you want in exchange for your assistance?”
“Initially, I wanted to be your right hand man. But I’m having second thoughts about that. Why should I be the right hand man when I can just be the man?”
In one motion, Horst pulled his belt knife and slit the Colonel’s throat.
Through his night vision scope, Cole watched Bill and Tyler walk away from the campsite. He continued to watch, but the demeanor of the men around the campfire didn’t change. They acted exactly like they had before Bill and Tyler went in. When Bill appeared next to him, he laid his weapon down and said, “Well?”
Bill gave Cole the particulars and ended by saying, “These guys are as dumb as the proverbial box of rocks. And I mean dumb with a capital D. If the entire group has the same intellect, and there’s no reason to think otherwise, they don’t present much of a threat to Fort Hope. The question is, what are we gonna do about the female captives? Let’s get back and see what the boss says. Wade’s gonna love this.”
While Simmons was busy bleeding out, Horst wiped his blade on the hem of his snow-white jacket and kicked him in the nuts. The poodle hadn’t stopped yipping since Horst’s aggressive move, so he dropkicked the dog against the wall. The animal got up and retreated to a corner, whimpering softly. Horst stood looking
down at Simmons sprawled in his chair. He looked like a fat carp out of water, his mouth opening and closing while his hands tried to stem the flow of blood.
“You’re dumber than your redneck troops.”
Grabbing the chair, he wheeled it in front of the desk, positioned the dying Colonel so his head was back and legs slightly apart and straight out, then opened the door.
Ransom was standing three feet to the right, looking concerned or confused: Horst couldn’t tell which. “Get in here, Ransom.”
Horst pulled him towards the chair where Simmons was gasping his last and, as Ransom looked on horrified, one last feeble heartbeat spurted blood from his severed carotid. He was still.
Ransom’s eyes were as big as dinner plates. “Wha—what’s goin’ on?”
Horst grabbed a padded chair near the wall and pushed Ransom into it. “Sit there quietly, Ransom, and listen closely to what I’m going to tell you.”
Ransom was scared speechless.
“Your Colonel was a traitor. He’s been working for a group of soldiers up in Tennessee. They’re going to attack and annihilate you.”
“Anni—what?”
Horst shook his head from side to side in dismay. “They’re going to attack and kill everyone in Nirvana. Then they’re going to take the women in the Bitch Pool for themselves. Your Colonel’s been setting you up for weeks. He’s a turncoat and an asshole. I took it upon myself to save as many of you guys as I can. We don’t have a lot of time. You can run and hide or you can soldier up and help me. What’s it gonna be?”
Ransom wasn’t the brightest bulb in the pack so Horst wasn’t sure if he heard they were all going to die, but was pretty sure he heard they were going to lose the women even before Ransom verified it a second later.
“They ain’t getting our wimen, Mr. Nagel. No how, no way. What do ya need me to do?”