Frontier Justice - 01

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Frontier Justice - 01 Page 15

by Arthur Bradley


  “Samantha, we need to go,” he said, his teeth covered in blood.

  “I can’t—I won’t get into another helicopter,” she said, stepping back behind Tanner.

  “Dear, I understand that you’re afraid, but there’s no other way. It would take a full day to get a convoy here.”

  She shook her head.

  “Then I’ll just stay with Tanner. He’ll take me to my mom.”

  “Samantha, I’m sorry, dear, but that’s not an option. It’s my job to bring you to safety. You understand, right? You don’t want me to lose my job, do you?”

  “I don’t care if you lose your job.”

  He stood up straight and smoothed his clothing.

  “You give me no choice then, young lady. As an agent of the government, I’m giving you a lawful order to come with me. If you disobey that order, you’re subject to prosecution. Do you understand what that means, Samantha?”

  “It means you think I’m an idiot.”

  He sighed and turned back to Tanner.

  “I don’t suppose you’re going to be smart and just walk away.”

  “Do I look smart? Don’t answer that.”

  The agent leaned in and lowered his voice.

  “With one radio call, I can have a gunship raining down a living hell on you.”

  Tanner moved the point of aim of his shotgun to the agent’s belly button.

  “And with one squeeze of the trigger, I can turn you into Hamburger Helper.”

  Samantha touched his arm.

  “Remember, peace and tranquility.”

  He glanced at her and then back to the two men.

  “Both of you put your weapons on the ground. You can thank Sam later.”

  “This isn’t over,” Agent Sparks said, taking a semi-automatic pistol from his belt and setting it on the ground.

  The soldier didn’t say anything as he unbuckled his rifle and let it drop by his feet.

  “I’ll give you to the count of sixty to get that helicopter off the ground.”

  The soldier looked to Agent Sparks who gestured for him to go ahead. Sparks started to say something, but Tanner cut him off.

  “Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven …”

  He turned and followed the soldier back to the helicopter. As they lifted off, Agent Sparks leaned out the open door and gave Tanner the one- finger salute.

  Tanner and Samantha sat with their backs against the door of a shiny yellow Corvette. The proud owner sat inside, his skin sagging so badly that he could have been mistaken for one of the horrors in Madame Tussaud’s wax museum. Tanner was eating a Slim Jim, and Samantha a pack of red licorice.

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  “So, who are you exactly that the Secret Service is out looking for you?”

  “You know already.”

  “I know that the president has a daughter named Samantha.”

  “You just didn’t know she was so cute, right?” she said with a grin.

  “I didn’t know she was such a pain.”

  She paused, hunting for the right words, or perhaps just the right delivery.

  “So, are you’re still going to take me to Virginia?”

  “I suppose. But that convoy he mentioned will likely show up somewhere along the way. You won’t need me then.”

  She stood up and looked off in the direction the helicopter had flown.

  “Do you think Agent Sparks will tell my mom that I’m alive?”

  “I can’t imagine why not.”

  “Good. I’m sure she’s worried.” She sat back down and took a drink of water.

  “How’d they know where to find you?”

  She gently grabbed his hand and placed it against her forearm.

  “Feel,” she said.

  “It feels like a grain of rice is under your skin.”

  “They said it’s a short-range wireless tracker. That if I ever got lost, it would help them to find me.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  She shrugged.

  “Are you going to give me that sad childhood story? Too many vacations in the Hamptons?”

  “No, not that. My mom is great. My dad’s dead, but he was okay, too.” “I’m sorry. About your dad, I mean.”

  “Do you have any family?”

  “A son.”

  “What’s he like?”

  Tanner looked off in the distance, reliving better times.

  “He’s a good man. Better than me, that’s for sure.”

  “Is he a criminal, too?”

  Tanner laughed. “Quit calling me that.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No, he’s not a criminal. He’s a lawman. The kind you might have found standing beside Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday.”

  “He sounds very brave. Maybe one day I can meet him.”

  “Maybe. If he’s still alive.”

  “Do you think he is? Alive I mean.”

  He shrugged. “Could be. We have a cabin. If he made it there, he could have waited this thing out.”

  “I hope he’s alive.”

  “Thank you.”

  She grabbed another piece of licorice and started chewing.

  “Sam,” he said, “I have a question for you.”

  “Sure.”

  “Why didn’t you go with that agent?”

  “I told you. I’m not getting back in another helicopter.”

  “That’s it?”

  She looked up at him and wrinkled her brow.

  “What other reason could I have for not going?”

  He shrugged, taking a big bite of the beef stick.

  “I just figured you liked me.”

  “In your dreams.”

  He grinned. “Okay, then what gives?”

  “It’s just that…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well … it’s just that our helicopter didn’t exactly crash. I mean, we crashed, but we didn’t just crash.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I think someone shot us down.”

  “Who would shoot down a helicopter with the president’s daughter inside?”

  “I heard Oscar and the pilot talking. They called it friendly fire. It didn’t seem too friendly to me, though.”

  “Friendly fire just means that it was our own military.”

  “Oh.”

  “It sounds like someone doesn’t want you to get home.”

  “Oh,” she said again. “But, you’re going to take me to my mom, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “All the way? No matter what?”

  He looked over and saw that there were tears in the corners of her eyes.

  “No matter what,” he said.

  She blinked a few times and swallowed hard.

  “Okay then, what else do you have to eat? I’m still hungry.”

  CHAPTER

  19

  Mason met back up with his deputies at the police station about an hour after his confrontation with Rommel. They sat around the briefing table, drinking tap water from Styrofoam cups.

  Coon raised a cup to his nose and sniffed the water.

  “Seems clean enough. I guess we should be thankful.”

  “Yeah,” said Vince, “thankful.” He looked over at the empty coffeepot. “Marshal, any idea when they’re going to have electricity back on? I could really use a cup of coffee.”

  “It could be some time. Weeks, months, or even longer.”

  “That’s a long time to go without a cup of coffee on the job,” said Chief Blue. “We may have to build a fire pit or some other way to boil water here at the office. With hot water, we could make our own percolator of sorts. Men can be clever when coffee’s on the line.”

  Without another word, Mason unplugged the coffeemaker and filled it with water from the tap. He grabbed a packet of coffee and carried everything out to his truck. When he returned, his hands were empty.

  “You letting the Sun work some magic on the coffee, Marshal?” asked Don.


  “Actually, I have an inverter out in my truck. It runs off a couple of spare lead-acid batteries in the back. Give it a few minutes, and we’ll have hot coffee.”

  “Serious?” said Coon. “Marshal, don’t joke about something like that.”

  “Only the best for those helping to keep me alive.”

  “I’m just glad we didn’t have to shoot anyone today,” said Don. “I had them in my sights though, just as you instructed. If it had gone south, I could have dropped two of them pretty quick.”

  “I had the other two,” said Vince.

  Mason turned to Coon.

  “If they were covering the four gunmen outside, who were you targeting?”

  “Marshal, sir, I had the fellow with the big orange target on his chest.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be a crack shot.”

  “I am,” he said, confidently. “That fellow was awful skinny. I would’ve had to hit him right in the zipper to make sure he took a bullet.”

  Mason chuckled. “I see.”

  “You think they’ll leave?” asked Chief Blue.

  “No, I think they’ll wait for us to come again.”

  “Not to question your leadership, Marshal,” said Don, “but is that really the best strategy? When we show up in twenty-four hours, they’ll be ready.”

  “Who says we’re going to show up in twenty-four hours?” The others sat up and looked at Mason.

  “But you said … Ah, I get it,” Don said, grinning. “We’re going to let them sweat it out. Then when they figure we didn’t have the nerve, we’ll move on them.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe we’ll just pick them off one at a time. When their numbers get low enough, they’ll skip out in the middle of the night.”

  “I like the idea of keeping them on their back foot,” said Vince. As he said the words, he caught himself staring over at Don’s prosthetic leg.

  Don saw him too and grinned.

  “Just to be safe, we should keep an eye on them,” said Mason.

  “We could do it in shifts,” offered Chief Blue.

  “I’ll go first,” volunteered Vince.

  “And I’ll relieve you tonight,” the chief said. “My wife won’t like it, but I don’t sleep much anyway.”

  “I’ll pick it up in the morning,” said Don. “We can use the radios to stay in touch.”

  “If they’re still around tomorrow, I’m happy to take a shift, too,” said Coon.

  Mason glanced at his watch and smiled.

  “It’s coffee time.”

  “Come on, this is worth seeing,” Ava said, pulling on Mason’s arm with one hand and carrying a folded blanket with the other. She led him up a long grassy hill located on the outskirts of town.

  The sun was still shining, although it was getting late in the day. Bowie ran huge circles around them, occasionally dropping to roll around in the tall grass like a pig enjoying fresh mud. It was as nice a spring day as Mason could remember.

  When they got to the top of the hill, Ava let him go and wrapped her arms around a huge Northern Red Oak.

  “This is it,” she said with unmistakable pride. “Well?”

  Mason wasn’t sure exactly what to say. It was a perfectly fine tree, standing nearly one hundred feet tall and measuring three feet across. But there were thousands of similar trees in forests all around.

  “It’s … really great.”

  “You’re a terrible liar,” she laughed. “Come take a look.”

  Mason moved up beside her. On the trunk were carvings of names and initials, most of them surrounded by hearts. She ran her fingers over one that read, Jon loves Ava.

  “My first love,” she said. “Jon Singer. We were only sixteen when he carved that.”

  Mason smiled. Everyone had a first love, and they were never forgotten.

  “Did you bring me here to make me jealous?”

  “Yes.” She winked. “Is it working?”

  “Of course. So, what happened between you two?”

  “The usual stuff. Jon moved off to play college football in Tennessee, and I went off to medical school. He married a lovely cheerleader, and they even invited me to their wedding. They have two boys.” Her smile faded. “I wonder if his family is even alive. Those beautiful little boys…”

  He put his arm around her.

  She turned, rose up on tip toes, and kissed him on the lips.

  Mason looked into Ava’s eyes and saw a deep longing. Not just for him, but for a rock to hold onto. He pulled her tightly against him and kissed her, tasting the sweetness of her lips. They stood beside the tree, kissing for several minutes, enjoying the heat of one another’s body and the intimacy of their first real touch.

  Ava finally pulled away.

  “Tell me you love me.”

  “Ava…”

  “You don’t have to mean it. Just tell me.” She closed her eyes, hoping to hear the words.

  Mason raised his hands and cradled her soft face. He leaned in very close and kissed her gently.

  “I love you, Ava. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known. Your spirit is filled with generosity and kindness, and it is truly my honor to hold you in my arms.”

  She opened her eyes, and small tears glistened.

  “Thank you. That was really nice.”

  “Ava, I felt my heart stir when I first laid eyes on you.”

  “Now I know you’re lying,” she said, laughing. “When we first met in the church, I was a complete mess from working all morning.”

  “No,” he said, “you were radiant and real, and every person felt the kindness in your heart. Father Paul would say that’s the reason you were spared. And, in this case, I would have to agree with him.”

  She blushed, taking his hands in hers.

  “You’re … wonderful. If God spared me because of my kindness, he surely spared you because of your strength. My father would have said you are the point of the spear that others depend on in their most difficult hour.”

  “Point of the spear?”

  “He used that expression from time to time to describe brave men who were willing to do difficult things when others couldn’t.”

  He kissed her again, feeling the soft press of her breasts against his chest.

  “What I want to know,” he teased, “is what exactly I have to do to get my name on this tree.”

  “We’ll think of something,” she whispered. She pulled away and started unfolding the blanket on the soft grass. When it was smooth, she lay down and stared up at him. Her skirt had partially opened, and one voluptuous leg protruded from underneath. “Will you share this moment with me, Marshal Raines?”

  Mason stood speechless. In all his years, he couldn’t remember a woman who looked more beautiful than Ava did lying on the blanket. It was as if Aphrodite herself was summoning him, and as a mere mortal, he had no hope of resisting her call.

  He slipped off his jacket and hung it over a limb of the tree.

  “If I said no, there isn’t a man alive who would forgive me.”

  Ava and Mason lay on the blanket, completely naked, curled up against one another like two sleeping lions. Bowie rested at their feet, eying squirrels in the tree above them.

  “I’m hungry,” she said in a sleepy voice.

  “You should be,” he laughed.

  She raised up on one elbow and punched him softly on the shoulder.

  “Me? You’re the one who wanted do-overs.”

  “What can I say? Once wasn’t enough.”

  “And twice?”

  “Barely.”

  They both laughed and kissed again. Mason ran his hands down her stomach and along her hips.

  “I have a truck bed full of food. We could build a little fire and pretend we’re pioneers.”

  “That sounds nice,” she sighed, “but I was thinking that maybe we should go check to see how Betty is doing over at the university. Her soup kitchen is supposed to be up and running.”

  “That’s a great idea. There
’s only one problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  He pulled her close, feeling the heat of her body.

  “We’d have to put on clothes.”

  She kissed him. “Well, I do. You could always go as you are, but it would give that ‘point of the spear’ thing a whole new meaning.”

  A large crowd had gathered on the front lawn of the university’s cafeteria. Scores of people were coming and going, and while the scene was busy, it was also relaxed. No one was shoving or grabbing; everyone seemed quite willing to wait their turn.

  Mason pulled his truck up on the grass, and he and Ava climbed out. Bowie had been relegated to ride in the bed of the truck, but he didn’t seem to mind. As they walked up the steep grassy hill toward the cafeteria, several people offered friendly greetings.

  They sidestepped a line of more than forty people and entered the university’s cafeteria. A procession of volunteer servers worked a food line much like that found at a Salvation Army during the holidays. The meal consisted of meat and vegetable stew, bread, and some kind of pudding. The stew was heated in a large pot on a burner fueled by portable tanks of propane.

  When Betty saw them, she wiped her hands on her apron and hurried over. “Marshal, Ava, it’s nice to see you both. What do you think?” she asked, an unmistakable look of pride on her face.

  “It’s wonderful,” exclaimed Ava. She touched Betty on the arm. “This will bring life back to our community.”

  Mason nodded his agreement. “Very impressive. I see you’ve managed to use propane tanks to cook.”

  “Yes, we figured out how to transfer the propane from large tanks to the smaller, portable ones. So, assuming we don’t blow ourselves up, we can keep this going for quite some time.”

  “What about the bread? Do you have a propane oven, too?”

  “I wish. Unfortunately, the cafeteria’s ovens operate on natural gas, which was shut off weeks ago. I’m hoping that we can talk about that at the next town council meeting. If we can get the natural gas back up and running, we’d really be set. For now, we’re baking the bread in a large pottery kiln over in the art department.”

  “Very clever.”

  “Speaking of food, you two look hungry. Can I get you some of my homemade stew? It’s pretty good if I say so myself.”

  “Yes, please,” said Ava. “I think the marshal here has worked up quite an appetite.”

 

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