by Bobby Akart
“How so, Stubby?” asked Colton.
“Well, we need to act quickly, but we can pull it off,” he began. “We know the area and now we know their plans for the day. What if we break into groups and isolate each of the three search teams. We can neutralize them and hide their gear. We’ll make it look like they defected. If we miss a team, one of our own will be waiting at Shiloh Ranch and take them out.”
“Stubby, this is ambitious,” said Colton. “By neutralizing and taking out, I’m assuming we’ll kill them and hide the bodies, right?”
“That’s what they have planned for us,” interrupted Chase in reply. “They said their rules of engagement have changed.”
“What are they?” asked Stubby.
Chase looked around the room to determine if anyone else was listening. He leaned forward and replied in a whisper, looking around to make sure nobody overheard the conversation. “The soldier said let ’er rip and don’t waste time asking questions.”
Everyone sat in silence for a moment as they contemplated what Chase reported. FEMA, an organization designed to protect and care for American citizens in a time of crisis, had become militarized with a primary focus on enforcing the President’s martial law order. Furthermore, individual soldiers were looking out for themselves first, regardless of the pain and damage they inflicted upon civilians.
In Jackson, they’d witnessed the squalor and sordid conditions that the refugees lived under. Chase had received a beat down from FEMA’s men during the Thanksgiving Day raid. Now, soldiers under the authority of the United States were planning on using their resources to loot and commandeer private property, not to mention killing U.S. citizens in the process.
“The depravity of man,” mumbled Colton, reminding himself of his grandfather’s words. He did not intend to add to the conversation, but the words had a profound effect on the group at the dining room table.
“We don’t have a choice,” said Stubby. “If we don’t strike first, they’ll double their numbers by tomorrow and then we’ll have to fight them as a cohesive military force. Honestly, I don’t like our odds if that happens.”
Jake leaned back in his dining chair until the wood back creaked. He clasped his fingers together and rested them on his belly. He smiled and spoke to Stubby. “We know the risks, old friend. Just tell us what to do.”
Stubby rose and walked across the room to grab his roll of maps. He fumbled through them until he found the one that included the area west of the river.
“If they’re going to search west of Shiloh Ranch today, that means they’ll probably divide the area up like this.” Stubby used utensils left on the table and created boxes to define roads that meandered through the west part of the county. Then he grabbed a couple of knitting needles out of Char’s craft bag, which sat in a chair by the window. He made a straight line along the county road bordering the area.
“My guess is that they went to the farthest point first and will work their way back to the ranch,” Stubby began, using a third knitting needle as a pointer. “At this hour, I’d imagine they’re already on their way. If we act fast, we can slip in behind them, catch them by surprise, and cut off their return.”
“Doable,” said Jake.
“We’ll break off into four groups of four—” started Stubby before Jake interrupted.
“But there are only three of their teams to neutralize, as you say.”
Stubby nodded and sat back down. “Yeah, we’ll have three in the field and one back at the ranch, waiting for anyone who gets past us. No matter what, by the time the day ends, all six of these disgraces to an American uniform will be considered AWOL or MIA.”
Colton expressed his concerns. “Stubby, that means we’ll be pulling sixteen of our own away from Childer’s Hill. That leaves us really vulnerable.”
“I know, and I don’t like it. But trust me, we don’t want to face a dozen or more heavily armed, trained soldiers tomorrow. It’s a risk we’ve gotta take. Unfortunately, risk taking is the new normal.”
Chapter 29
Noon, November 30
West of Shiloh Ranch
The skies opened up with a heavy downpour as the four teams set out on their assignments. The period from Thanksgiving through early January was typically the wettest for this part of West Tennessee. Heavy, sustained rains were the norm and the gusts of wind whipping the treetops were a reminder that they were located in Dixie Alley, one of the deadliest regions in the country for tornadic activity.
Coach Carey, Beau, and the Bennett brothers took the Chevy station wagon because they had the farthest to travel. Two of Javy’s men who had performed admirably at the battle against Junior at the Hornet’s Nest rode in the rear. None of the guys in Carey’s squad were trained marksmen, so the ranch hands picked up the slack. They also knew the surrounding area.
The teams assigned to the FEMA search squads included a foursome comprised of Colton and Jake with two ranch hands, plus Javy and Chase with two more of Javy’s men. Alex and Stubby were assigned to lie in wait for the stragglers who attempted to return to Shiloh Ranch.
Stubby outfitted everyone with the communications gear that had given them a huge assist during the battle against Junior. He would continue to spearhead the activities of everyone as his group of inexperienced fighters set out to take down members of the U.S. military.
The more Stubby thought about it, the more his stomach was sickened at the way things had turned out. These guys were opportunists abusing their power, no different from Ma and Junior. With Rollie’s orders, he couldn’t take the chance with the lives of so many people weighing on his shoulders.
Putting the three teams in place was a matter of traveling via backroads and identifying known choke points. When they’d set up the overall perimeter defenses of Shiloh Ranch weeks ago, they’d put into place road barriers designed to prevent access to their driveway. The Humvees were capable of driving around the blockades of debris they’d used.
However, with the heavy rains, Stubby and his teams were blessed with an ally that General Patton once infamously called upon during World War Two—the Good Lord. Patton asked his chief chaplain to pray for clear weather so his Third Army could advance upon German positions in France. The chief chaplain wrote the prayer and then distributed it to the quarter million soldiers of Patton’s army. The weather cleared, Patton’s tank rolled forward, and the Third Army punched through the German assault line at Bastogne, France, leading to the Allied victory at the Battle of the Bulge.
On this day, Stubby hadn’t prayed for rain. Whereas the night before he’d prayed for guidance, this morning he prayed for strength and protection for his extended family, none of whom had military experience, against a foe that should be a friend.
“It could be worse,” said Alex, interrupting Stubby’s thoughts. “It could be snowing.”
“What? Oh, yeah,” said Stubby. “This part of West Tennessee is like the Nashville area in that respect. We’re right on the edge of not cold enough for snow most of the time. What we get here is just damp, wet bone chill.”
The two dismounted near Lick Creek and tied off their horses under a large fully-leafed magnolia tree that would provide them cover from the rain. They got their gear together and began the trek through the woods along the driveway’s fence line.
Stubby and Alex needed to confirm that all of the FEMA units had left the ranch and were on patrol. Then they would take up positions on both sides of the driveway to create a cross-fire ambush. It was possible that the soldiers had been alerted to the surprise attacks being put into place. By the time they got back to the ranch, they would be on their toes.
Stubby performed a final radio check. “Bravo, Charlie, Delta, this is Alpha. Radio check. Over.”
“Alpha, this is Charlie, five by five. Over.”
“Alpha, this is Delta, loud and clear.”
Bravo team, which was Coach Carey’s squad, didn’t respond. Stubby confirmed the broadcast back to Colton, who was Charlie team, and Chas
e, who was Delta team.
“Roger, Charlie and Delta. Alpha out.”
Stubby waited a moment and then repeated the call to Coach Carey, “Bravo, this is Alpha. Radio check. Over.”
This time Beau responded, “Alpha, this is Bravo. Say again. Over.” Static accompanied his response and Stubby was about to key the mic when a heavy gust of wind snapped a dead tree limb in the woods behind him.
“Stubby, this is miserable,” Alex said. “Those guys may not stay out there all day.”
“Bravo, this is Alpha. Do you copy?”
Nothing.
Stubby immediately began to be concerned about his plan. The heavy rain and wind might turn out to be a blessing as well as a curse. If the FEMA troops called it a day, the three intercept teams might not be in position in time. All three FEMA squads could return to Shiloh Ranch and descend upon their position.
“Alex, listen up,” started Stubby. “If our guys aren’t in place to cut off their retreat, we may have to deal with all of them.”
Alex pulled her cap down over her eyes to shield them from the rain. “We’ll handle it.” With that, she climbed over the fence and sloshed across the driveway before disappearing into the underbrush. Stubby strained to follow her movements and then he caught a glimpse of her settling in behind two large rocks next to the fence. She had a perfect line of sight down the driveway and excellent protective cover.
The rain was coming down steadily with the occasional wind squall forcing the moisture to blow sideways. Through the brutal weather, Stubby heard the sounds of gunfire, but he was unable to discern from which location. At this point, it was best to maintain radio silence to keep from distracting his teams.
The waiting was excruciating. He wanted to hear a report—a confirmation that each team was safe and their mission accomplished. Stubby pulled his radio several times from his belt, only to tuck it away. Patience.
Then the steady roar of wind and rain was broken by static. “Alpha, this is Delta. Over.”
“Roger, Delta. Go.”
“Two kills. Vehicle intact.”
“Well done, Delta. Hold position. Over.”
“Roger, Alpha. Out.”
Stubby glanced back toward Alex, who stuck her hand, with a thumbs-up, above the lowest fence rail, acknowledging that she’d heard the news.
Two to go.
Chapter 30
Afternoon, November 30
Shiloh Ranch
Alex remained prone on the rain-soaked ground and tried to avoid shivering. Before they left Childer’s Hill, she’d tried to dress warmly but found that her mobility was constrained. Against Stubby’s suggestion, she’d peeled off the heavy hunting jacket that restricted her arm movement in favor of a lightweight, parka-style coat that repelled water, but did little to provide warmth. If something happened that required a lot of movement, she didn’t want to be hampered by a big winter coat.
The logic of the morning gave way to reality as the cold and wet began to soak into her body. Alex tried to block her discomfort from her mind by praising herself for her perseverance. You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.
The sounds of weapons discharging echoed through the woods, capturing her attention. These shots were coming from where her dad’s roadblock was. More shots were fired as a gun battle ensued.
Alex rose from her position to get Stubby’s attention. Just as she was about to speak, she heard the crackle of the radio and her dad’s voice. “Alpha, this is Charlie. Over.”
“Roger, Charlie. Sitrep.” Stubby was yelling to be heard through the noise created by the heavy rain.
“They got around our blockade. We lost a man. Their driver is wounded. Headed toward you.”
“Roger that, Charlie. Locate Bravo team and assist. Alpha out.”
Alex was standing now and listened as Stubby repeated the conversation. “Get ready, Alex! They’re coming!”
The skies were dark now and their visibility had been reduced considerably. Alex doubted she could get off an accurate shot, so her plan was to spray the vehicle with fire. If she could force them to stop by shooting out the Humvee’s tires, then Stubby, who was slightly behind her position, would have a clean shot.
Alex heard the faint sound of a vehicle approaching. The roar grew louder as the headlights of the military truck came into view. The driver nearly lost control as he took the final turn toward the gate too quickly. Alex saw this as an opportunity to catch them off guard.
CRACK—CRACK—CRACK!
She fired off three quick rounds at the driver’s window. Two of the bullets shot out one of the headlights, but the third skipped off the hood before finding its mark. The Humvee’s windshield shattered and the driver lost control, causing the rear end to spin around. The Humvee was now pointing back toward Federal Road.
Stubby fired several shots into the rear of the truck, tearing through the canvas cover. The vehicle sat still, idling in the road for thirty seconds. Alex wasn’t sure what to do although she didn’t like the fact the truck was pointing away.
Alex left the protection of the large rocks and moved her way down a narrow path created by the cows walking the fence line. She kept her weapon pointed at the passenger side of the truck. She glanced over and saw that Stubby was doing the same thing on his side.
Suddenly, the driver’s side door burst open and a body was thrown onto the crushed gravel shoulder. Stubby began firing toward the open door in an attempt to stop the driver from getting away.
At the same time, Alex broke into a full sprint as she ignored the soggy footing. Stubby fired off several more rounds, but the Humvee lurched forward and headed away from them.
Alex reached a slight clearing and then began shooting at the rear tires. Her sixth round found its mark and the big thirty-seven-inch rear tire exploded, causing the back end to drop. The driver tried to continue, but the shredded tire wrapped itself around the axle. Once again, the vehicle was at a standstill.
Cautiously, Alex and Stubby moved in unison toward the truck. They were now a hundred feet away. Stubby got closer and then shouted to the driver, “Come out of the truck and we won’t hurt you!”
The driver revved the engine and threw it into reverse. Alex immediately took a knee and fired into the rear canvas cover of the Humvee. She unloaded nearly ten shots before she stopped.
The truck rolled a few feet and then came to an abrupt halt. The brake lights were illuminated. The driver’s still alive.
Stubby noticed the same thing and immediately dropped to a knee. Alex, who was exposed in the open area, ran forward to a cluster of trees just fifty feet from the rear bumper. She never took her eyes off the doors of the Humvee and awaited Stubby’s signal.
That was when another truck came speeding around the corner toward them. Alex had completely lost sight of the fact that only one of the FEMA squads had been taken out. The other one, along with Coach Carey’s Bravo team, was unaccounted for. She suddenly was very afraid for Beau, but she snapped herself back to the task at hand.
If the driver of the disabled Humvee was still alive, she and Stubby were now outnumbered. Stubby moved alongside the parked truck and quickly emptied four rounds into its driver’s side window. Following his lead, Alex shot out the passenger windows. The brake light went off.
The other vehicle was upon them and the passenger was firing wildly out of his window. Alex then realized that the driver was going too fast. He’d never be able to stop without crashing into the stalled truck.
She slipped deeper into the woods, looking for cover. The driver was going full throttle as he approached the disabled truck with only one faint headlight. There was going to be a collision, but at the last moment the driver veered to the left toward the open space. Crashing through the fence, the Humvee dipped down into a ditch and then careened up the other side until it was stuck in the soggy turf.
The driver spun the tires to extract himself, but he dug himself in deeper. Alex wasn’t
going to wait for them to free themselves from the muck. When the driver’s door flung open and a leg appeared, she emptied the magazine, riddling the body with bullets. The lifeless body fell out of the Humvee and landed face-first in the mud.
Stubby ran across the street to join her. They had to deal with the passenger.
“I’ll go around the back; you take the front,” instructed Stubby in a whisper.
Alex obliged and dropped her empty magazine into her wet, wrinkled hands. She methodically jammed another thirty-round mag into her weapon and pulled the charging handle.
Slowly, she walked towards the front of the truck in a low crouch, using the oak trees as cover. She was just about in position to see into the cab of the Humvee when the fate of the passenger revealed itself. His bloody head was stuck in the shattered windshield with a hunk of glass jammed into his eye socket. He must’ve died instantly when the vehicle bounced through the drainage ditch.
She approached the body of the driver and kicked his leg, waiting for a reaction. Then, just as Stubby had taught her, and without emotion, she put another round through the man’s chest.
After Thanksgiving, Alex and Stubby had made a promise to each other—always make sure the bad guy is dead.
Chapter 31
Late Evening, November 30
Shiloh Ranch
The rain couldn’t dampen the spirits of the group as they cleaned up the mess created by Alex and Stubby during the assault on the two FEMA patrols. Coach Carey and the boys arrived, frustrated by the fact that they were unable to contribute earlier and that their comms had prevented them from relaying their situation to Stubby.
Jimbo and Clay buried the bodies of the dead soldiers in the woods and covered their graves with pine needles. Using the third Humvee, which was fully operational following Chase’s precision shooting on behalf of Delta team, they repaired the rear tire of the disabled Humvee and pulled the other one out of the soggy sod.