“We are the law!” Griffey shouted. “They can’t do that.”
“Beg to differ,” Moore said.
Throwing his hands up, “Okay, so what else would you suggest?” he asked as his anger built.
“Make your teams larger, for one. It’s fewer teams, but they can search an area more thoroughly and we don’t have to keep track of so many. It’s a proven fact; it’s harder for a larger group of people to get lost.”
Thinking about that, Griffey nodded. “I like that. We’ll increase the size to eight or ten depending on the area,” he said, but was looking at Moore for approval.
“I would try it and if we still have teams getting lost, I would make it twenty.”
Sitting back down, Griffey grabbed a pen and started writing. “We’ll increase before we put the next group out tomorrow. Anything else?”
“First, I would give them classes, thorough classes, on how to use those radios and satellite phones you’re sending them out with.”
Looking up from his writing, “We did,” he said.
“No, your people held them up and told them how to turn it on,” Moore said solemnly.
Almost groaning, Griffey started writing, “And?”
“Get someone in here who knows how to pack a backpack, and give them a small class on how to move, what to wear, how to wear it, and basic survival in the mountains. I’ve seen what some of them have packed and they are carrying way too much unnecessary stuff.”
“I’m not training them to go to Afghanistan,” Griffey said looking up.
“I know. You’re teaching them how to search a wilderness,” Moore said. “You do realize that you’re issuing equipment like thermal sights, M4s and other stuff, that many have never seen. One of the guys you sent out yesterday is a Homeland Agent from Florida. He’s never been in the woods in Florida, and you sent him into the mountains of Idaho with gear he’s never seen. He wasn’t even certified on the M4. In the academy, he was certified on the P90.”
Throwing his pen down, Griffey put his hands over his face groaning. “Just how long do you think these classes should be?”
Moore leaned over the table. “Get on the phone, call the Army, and get them to send some sergeants from the Tenth Mountain division here to train our people how to pack and what to wear. It’s a crash course, not a school. Give them a day on that, then half a day on the radio and phones. Then for God’s sakes, make sure the weapons you give these people, they know how to use.”
“Burrows, do it,” Griffey snapped and Burrows snatched up a phone. Griffey looked back at Moore. “I can get a hundred horses up here from Nevada, you think I should?”
Leaning back in his chair, Moore shrugged. “It’s not as simple as jumping in a saddle Griffey. Unless you know how, it takes time to learn and if you don’t, you could get hurt. Now, we have people here that do know how to ride, like the BLM guys that showed up last night. Most of them, you could throw on a horse with no training. But don’t forget, you bring those horses here, you have to feed and care for them or the environmentalists will have your ass.”
“Fuck the horses,” Griffey said and continued writing. “Have you got the information you wanted?”
“It’s coming, but it’s coming in vans full of boxes and printouts that fill boxes. It’s going to take my team a day just to arrange it, so we can start on it.”
“Get more people for your team,” Griffey said writing.
“I already have. I have ten of the best profilers in the Bureau. Agent Winters will be here soon, she’s beyond good at what she does. I’ll even go so far to say, she’s better than me.”
Looking up at Moore, “Get more, Washington wants this done now. We can somewhat control the mainstream media, but the alternate media on the web is starting to cause problems. The FCC can’t shut down the radio stations here according to some Cold War regulation. I’ve been told that we are to finish this at all cost. We can’t walk away empty-handed,” Griffey said.
Getting up, Moore walked over to the coffee pot. “Griffey, this is a shit storm and you can’t stop a shit storm. You ride it and do your best to get it under control,” he said filling a cup.
“No, you don’t understand, Washington wants this done and they don’t care how.”
Putting the pot back, Moore walked back to the table. “Yes, I do understand, but the second Joshua headed for the hills, this situation lost all control. We are on his timetable and I’m afraid to say, his timetable is going to be a long one. He can stay in those mountains for years and we’ll never find him. Hell, he could stay in a five-square-mile area and even if we searched it, we wouldn’t find him. This is Joshua’s home ground and he knows his ground. We don’t.”
Pushing the notepad away, Griffey looked off. “Have you chased one like him before?”
“Similar,” Moore said. “Joshua isn’t a survivalist Griffey. It’s not something he saw on the internet and thought, ‘oh that’s cool’. He lives and works in the wilderness and is comfortable doing it. The big things about Joshua are that he’s adaptable and well liked. If you look at his business records, you can see how he changed rapidly to stay in business and be profitable. He’s well thought of in the community and you could say, loved by his friends.”
“So, do you think you can steer me close enough to catch him?”
Thinking for a few minutes, Moore finally nodded. “Yes, but it’s going to take time and that’s one thing we don’t have, but not because of Washington. I want to get this done before most of the people around here start to actively help him because when they do, we will never catch him.”
“Get some more members for your team,” Griffey said getting up. “I’m not worried about the populace with pitchforks. I think I have an idea on how to move this along.”
“Oh, they won’t have pitchforks my good fellow,” Moore said getting up. “Like I was told by a member of this county, I’d be hard-pressed to find a house with only one gun.”
***
Late that afternoon, Joshua was sitting on a hilltop in Nordman, looking at the small hotel with his spotting scope. It had taken him almost ten hours to travel the thirty miles from his dugout to the north. He’d heard a few helicopters off in the distance, but hadn’t seen or heard any ground teams. He knew where they were supposed to be, but after listening to the radio he’d taken from high-top, his assumption was correct. When they left the road, they didn’t know where to go. Even with GPS and maps, many were miles from where they were supposed to be.
At this time of year, the RV park, campground and hotel would start to see some business but since the feds took it over, it was full, but not with guests. The RV court had RVs parked there, but it didn’t take long for Joshua to figure out that the people in the RVs were feds.
The first thing he’d noticed was everyone of the RVs were brand new and he could see that some still had papers taped to the windows, and three that he could see the back of still had temporary tags. Only a few of them seemed occupied now as he sat and watched.
It struck him as funny, the feds were looking for him and he was right there watching them. Packing his scope up, he moved back to King and the mule, making sure they were tied up well. They knew they were close to home and he didn’t want them to head that way.
Adjusting his new gear, Joshua headed down the hill toward the hotel. Taking his time, it was dark when he got there and he stopped just outside of the RV park, staying back in the trees. He didn’t need his night vision with all the lights at the park, so he got comfortable.
He had traded out his AR for the M4, liking the way it handled, but not that the barrel was shorter. A shorter barrel meant less power and range and for a 5.56, that had to be taken into account. It was a small bullet that did its damage by hauling ass and when you started taking that away, longer barrel equaled more velocity and shot placement became critical.
The suppressor on the M4 was better than the one he’d made, so after practicing with it, he traded up. When a van p
ulled into the RV circle, dropping people off, Joshua looked at his watch and saw that it was 2118. Looking at the people carrying briefcases and laptops and wearing nice clothes, he knew this wasn’t where those that came after him in the mountains slept, but that was okay.
Watching the people walk to different RVs, he pulled out his 1911 and screwed his suppressor on. Press checking it, he saw brass in the barrel and let the slide move forward. When all the people were inside, he started debating on which one as he eased to his knees and another van pulled up, dropping more people off. Seeing some head to RVs he had just seen people go in, he eased back down, rethinking his plan.
When a third van pulled up, Joshua almost left but this van stayed at the hotel, dropping a load off. Glancing at his watch and seeing that it was almost ten, Joshua looked back at the RVs and saw many now had lights on.
“This may take a while,” he mumbled and got comfortable. After an hour, most of the inside lights for the RVs were off and Joshua made his choice of an RV that he’d seen one man go in, hoping there wasn’t more. Before he moved, a Ford Taurus with a dealer sticker still on the window pulled into the RV Park and drove up to one of the nicer ones, parked in the center of the circle of RVs.
A man got out and went to the trunk, pulling out a box and carried it inside the RV. He looked to be in his late thirties and was slightly overweight. “You have a car while everyone else carpools,” Joshua mumbled as the man came back out to grab a briefcase and headed back inside. “New target,” he mumbled getting to his knees. “You are more important.”
Just before Joshua moved out of the trees, the man came back out, not wearing his suit jacket and shut the door of the RV. “Get your ass inside, I have things to do,” Joshua chastised quietly as the man headed toward the hotel. “Okay, I’ll let you have that one.”
When the man rounded the corner of the hotel, Joshua looked at the other RVs and saw all were dark. Getting up and holding the 1911 against his body, Joshua walked between two RVs on the outer circle, heading for the one the man had just walked out of.
Reaching the RV, Joshua walked inside and was impressed with the opulence of the RV as he turned off the lights. He saw the box on the table and leaned down to look out the window, but didn’t see the man coming back. Moving over to the lights, he popped the covers off and pulled the bulbs loose but didn’t take them out.
Since he had gloves on, he didn’t care as he opened the box and used the light coming in the window to see it was filled with stacks of papers. He pulled a spiral bound book out and opened it. His eyes got big on seeing Ben’s name at the top of each page and banking transactions down the page. Putting the book down he pulled another out and glanced out the window, making sure the man wasn’t coming.
Not seeing anyone, he looked down at the paper and saw it was financial records for Barbara. Grabbing another stack, he found it was Ben’s high school records. “What the fuck?” he whispered and put the stuff back for now. “Yeah, now I’m pissed.”
He moved to the back of the RV and saw the bathroom and bedroom. Giving a satisfied nod, he moved back to the window and waited. It was almost an hour later when the man rounded the corner of the hotel, walking back to the RV. Judging by his walk, the man had needed an after work drink.
Moving to the back of the RV, Joshua hid behind the wall of the bedroom and waited. It wasn’t long and the door opened and shut. He heard the man hit the light switch, “I don’t care how much it costs, this is a piece of shit,” he slurred as Joshua rounded the corner, seeing the man reach for the TV. “I told Moore, I’m not trailer trash.”
“Hello,” Joshua said raising his pistol as the suppressor touched the back of the man’s head. “I’ve heard you had a problem,” he said and pulled the trigger.
The man’s head jerked back as the forty-five caliber bullet blew out his face, slamming into the TV. Stepping back as the body fell, Joshua kept the gun on him till he quit jerking. Setting the gun down, he pulled the bags with the severed hands out.
Carefully shaking the salt off, Joshua moved over to the sink and turned on the water, cleaning the thumb and index fingers of each hand off. He moved over to the box and pulled out several folders and touched them with the thumb and finger like someone would when they read them.
Doing that to several more bound stacks in the box, Joshua put those hands up and pulled out the other bag. Washing them like he did the others, he moved to the briefcase and used the dead hands to open it and rifle through it. Then, he used the hands to open some drawers and even mess with the laptop on the table. Satisfied, Joshua put the hands away and picked up his gun.
Getting on his knees, he found his brass and reached over to feel the man’s neck, not finding a pulse. Standing up, he looked around and didn’t see anyone. Walking out the door, he quietly closed it and headed for the woods.
Reaching his horse, Joshua climbed up and guided King north with the mule just following along, wondering where they were going next.
Chapter Fifteen
Ben was sitting at Sonya’s kitchen table sipping a cup of coffee. Hearing a soft knock on the side door, he put his coffee down and pulled his pistol out of his holster, “Yeah?” he said holding the barrel low.
“It’s Gene,” came the reply.
Reaching over, Ben opened the door and Gene walked in with an AR over his shoulder. Looking outside, Ben noticed it wasn’t even light yet. “You starting your watch early?” he asked holstering his pistol.
“We don’t want the feds to be able to pattern our watches,” Gene said looking at Ben’s holster. “You need a real gun on your hip.”
Reaching down, Ben patted the butt of his gun. “Springfield XD baby, thirteen rounds of forty-five love.”
Putting a hand inside his jacket, Gene pulled out a massive nickel plated revolver. “Smith and Wesson fifty cal, son. When you care enough to send the very best,” Gene said with a smile.
“Yeah, if you’re shooting tanks,” Ben said sitting back down. “How are the boys doing outside?” After he and Gene had snuck away to send the message, they’d gathered some friends since most of the crew had left and decided to start standing guard by staying at Sonya’s house. Neither was surprised to already find Chris there. It wasn’t long until other people in the area came over to help. Now, at any time, there were twenty armed men and a sheriff’s deputy outside. Then to top it off, a construction contractor that lived nearby drove his D8 bulldozer over and parked it across the road, so you couldn’t even drive up to Sonya’s until someone moved it.
“Doing good, Chris and some others did a sweep behind the house to make sure the feds weren’t trying to sneak up through the woods.
Shaking his head, Ben laughed. “Gene, Chris is out there in full Rambo mode. If he sees them, the world will know.”
“I talked to him and told him to keep it in his pants. We don’t want a war, we just want them to leave Joshua’s family alone.”
“If they come here, they will get a war,” Ben said in an ominous voice.
Gene took his AR off and laid it on the table next to Ben’s AR. “Just make sure they shoot first.”
“Gene, I love ya and have always listened to ya, but hell no,” Ben said sassily. “He who shoots first wins. Proof in point, Joshua is alive.”
Gene pulled out a chair and sat down, looking at Ben with a serious face as he clasped his hands together leaning over the table. “Ben, they have over a thousand guns that they can call in not even ten miles from here. We won’t even be a speed bump. We are here to deter. To let them know, it would be too much trouble for them to try taking us.”
Ben sipped his coffee staring at Gene. “I’m not stupid, but I’m not going to let them hurt Josh’s family. If they do, they do it stepping over my corpse.”
“Understandable,” Gene said, glad he’d decided to bring his camper up and set it up outside to keep Ben on a leash. He had watched Josh and Ben grow up from little boys and loved both dearly. But Ben had no fear of anything
on this Earth and would prove it in a second. “Why don’t you go crawl in the bed with your wife,” he said smiling and getting up heading to the coffee pot.
“Gene, don’t,” Ben said with a terrified expression. “I can’t believe Sonya called Barbara and told her and Sammy to stay here until this was over.”
“You want them out at your place alone?”
“No, but it just seems… I don’t know,” Ben said looking into his coffee for the answer but it didn’t come.
“Ben, I’m the first to admit, I never would’ve pegged you to settle down,” Gene said pouring a cup. “But seeing you with Barbara and that kid, I finally have hope for you.”
“Don’t old man,” Ben said.
Gene laughed as he moved back to the table. He didn’t fear Ben. “I’m just stating what I’ve seen Ben,” Gene grinned.
They sat together, sipping coffee as they heard an alarm clock go off in the house and Gene stood up. “I’ll tell the boys outside to get in the vehicles,” he said grabbing his AR.
“Will you ask Sonya if I can drive them?” Ben asked getting up stretching out.
Grabbing the door and opening it, “Nope, you will soon learn, when a woman makes up her mind, God himself can’t change it. And woe to anyone else that tries,” he said over his shoulder and walked out.
Ben stared at the closed door shaking his head. “Gene, you need to find a new woman. Your last wife didn’t die; she’s in hiding from your bullshit.”
They caravanned William to and from school every day to Priest River. Since there was a sheriff substation in Priest River, they didn’t have to stay outside the school and Buck had put a deputy outside the school full time now. Now that Ben and Barbara were staying there and Sammy went to the same school, Sammy rode with them.
With Sammy there, William had someone to talk to and play with and that was good enough for Ben to stay there with Barbara. It was a big house but crowded now, since Mrs. Anderson was still staying there also.
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