Bug Out! Texas Part 1: Texas Lockdown

by Robert Boren

“You find out who these Islamists are yet?” Hendrix asked.

  “Our sources say they’re imports. We actually might want the authorities to take them out. They are a real threat. We don’t want to side with them.”

  “What sources?”

  “Local Imams, mostly,” Sutton said. “And by the way, some Venezuelans were captured in that last battle, at the Sanitation District Headquarters.”

  “Son of a bitch. This won’t play well. The citizens are already upset about what’s going on in Venezuela. They think that’s how socialism is.”

  “Well, Venezuela is socialist,” Sutton said.

  “Not anymore, regardless of what they’re saying,” Hendrix said. “They’ve got a military dictatorship now. We need to make sure we play up the fact that military dictatorships are always right wing.”

  Jerry shook his head. “That’s not gonna fly with the public. We supported their former leader all the way, remember? We used his administration as a model for common sense socialism.”

  “And then the guy had to go and die,” Hendrix said. “Now there’s chaos, and the socialists are getting blamed. We have to spin that or the citizens will get the wrong idea. That will undo all the work we’ve done.”

  “As long as the new Venezuelan leader makes a big deal about being socialist, we’re gonna have a problem,” Sutton said. “ Especially when their involvement in the attack today gets on the news.”

  “They aren’t our socialists,” Kip said. “They’re a lot more militant, and we have nobody inside to control them anymore. I don’t know what the hell they’re doing sneaking in here.”

  “You hear the reports from Falcon Lake?” Jerry asked. “Bunch of them showed up there, and now the governor has ramped up patrols. Even has the Feds helping.”

  “That stupid governor and his toy patrol boats. I hope that nonsense blows up in his face.”

  Sutton sat back, thinking, worry on his face.

  “Okay, what’s eating you?” Hendrix asked.

  “Look, boss, I know that we’re trying to make progress towards social and economic justice in this state, and I agree it’s a noble cause.”

  “There’s a but coming.”

  “What’s going on now looks like a real invasion to me. And it’s not just here in Texas. You heard what’s going on in Southern California, and in Arizona and New Mexico? Hell, there’s even problems cropping up in south Florida.”

  Hendrix sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Okay, what’s your point?”

  “I think we need to cut our losses and ring the alarm bell on this. We don’t want to be on the wrong side. We can go back to our push for social and economic justice after the invasion is put down.”

  Hendrix sat silently for a moment, looking down at his desk, thinking. “Okay, that is what I pay you for. We need to put together a new strategy, and I’ll need to sell it to the Administration and the Progressive Caucus in the Legislature.”

  “I’ll put together some position papers,” Sutton said, getting out of his chair.

  “One thing, though,” Kip said. “I am going to press on the vigilantes. I’m not going to side with them.”

  “That’s fine as long as they’re guilty of going too far, but I’d back off on the gun control rhetoric for a while,” Jerry said.

  “I’m going after the cops who enlisted the vigilantes, too, but I’ll do it quietly. I’ll work it through Holly.”

  “Be careful about that,” Sutton said. “If it gets into the press, this plan won’t work for us.”

  “I hear you,” Hendrix said. “Go get busy. I’ve got some phone calls to make.”

  Sutton nodded and walked out the door. Hendrix watched him, then pounded his fist on the desk.

  Chapter 19 - Rio Salado

  “Almost there,” Juan Carlos said as the patrol boat cut through the glassy water. The moon was out, allowing them to run without the spotlight.

  “So what do you think, man?” Brendan asked. “Going into Mexican waters like this. Risky?”

  “We were asked, remember,” Juan Carlos said. “You worry too much, dude.”

  “Well, maybe, bro,” Brendan said. “Doesn’t it strike you as strange that we got officers going along? Don’t remember that happening before.”

  “You got a point there. We’re almost to the entrance of the inlet.”

  “What are all those lights back there?” Brendan asked.

  “Get out the binoculars. Take a look.”

  “Okay,” Brendan said, going underneath the seat on the port side. “Glad we have a moon.”

  “You and me both, dude.”

  “Keeps us from showing our position with the spotlights. Why does Jackson have his on?”

  “Because he’s an idiot,” Juan Carlos said. “I hope Chauncey figures that out quick enough.”

  Suddenly there was a whistling noise, and the water exploded in back of Jackson and Chauncey’s boat.

  “Shit, man, they’re firing a cannon at us,” Juan Carlos shouted. “Call Chauncey while I maneuver, okay?”

  Brendan nodded and grabbed the microphone off the pilot stand dashboard. “Hey, Chauncey,” he said.

  “Yeah,” the voice over the speaker said.

  “Turn your damn spotlight off. We don’t need it, and it makes a good target.”

  “Shit, Jackson, you have the spotlight on?” Chauncey’s voice shouted over the speaker.

  Brendan and Juan Carlos glanced at each other and chuckled.

  “Thanks, man,” Chauncey said.

  “No problema,” Brendan said. “Stay sharp. This is gonna get bad.”

  “No kidding. Talk to you in a little while.”

  “Roger that,” Brendan said. He hung the mic back on the bracket and turned to Juan Carlos. “I’m gonna get on one of the guns. Don’t make your course too straight.”

  “Way ahead of you, dude,” Juan Carlos said as he did a zig-zag pattern towards the inside of the inlet.

  There was another whistle, and the water blew up again, between the two boats, a little behind.

  “Dammit!” Brendan said. “I’m almost in range. Should I start firing?”

  “Give it another hundred yards,” Juan Carlos said. “We don’t want to waste ammo.”

  “Okay,” Brendan said, aiming the big .50 cal. “Say when.”

  “Wish we had a third person,” Juan Carlos said. “That’s what these boats were designed for. Frigging cutbacks.”

  Another explosion, closer to Jackson and Chauncey’s boat this time.

  “They ain’t zig zagging enough, bro,” Brendan shouted.

  “Open fire!” Juan Carlos yelled. Brendan pulled the trigger, tracer bullets showing the way, big .50 cal bullets slamming into the side of the large barge.

  “Hit a few, but that armor helps them,” Juan Carlos shouted.

  “I know,” Brendan said, stopping for a moment. “Aiming higher. Going for the haircut!”

  “Wait for their heads to pop up,” Juan Carlos said.

  There was another whistling noise, and then the back of Jackson and Chauncey’s boat blew up.

  “Oh, shit!” Brendan shouted, turning and firing at the top edge of the armor, watching several heads explode.

  “Going to see if they survived,” Juan Carlos said, turning the boat around.

  “Don’t expose the engines,” Brendan shouted, turning the gun and firing again. “That damn barge is still coming. We need a cannon, or some air power.”

  Juan Carlos spun the boat around behind the wreckage. He saw a head bobbing in the water.

  “Chauncey!” Brendan shouted.

  “Hey, guys,” he said, swimming over.

  “Where’s Jackson?”

  “He bought it,” Chauncey said as he pulled himself into the boat. “Just about cut him in half.”

  There was a whistling noise, and another explosion, about twenty yards away.

  “Get this thing moving!” Chauncey shouted, his large frame moving quickly towards the other gun.
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br />   “Yes, now we’ve got two guns!” Juan Carlos shouted. “How close do you want me to get?”

  “Right up their asses,” Chauncey shouted. “They can’t use their cannon if we’re too close.”

  “Roger that, dude,” Juan Carlos said, flooring the boat, getting it up on a plane as small arms fire began to hit them.

  “Fire at will!” Chauncey yelled. Both guns opened up, close enough now to pour fire in the right places. Men were diving off the barge, swimming for cover.

  “I see the cannon,” Brendan said. “Stern, port side. They’re loading it.”

  “I see it,” Juan Carolos shouted. “Pour fire over there. Maybe we can set off the ammo. Ignore everything else.”

  “Yeah,” Brendan said, opening fire along with Chauncey, the tracer bullets showing their stream of lead coming together.

  “Keep it up, guys,” Juan Carlos shouted, still going towards the barge full bore.

  There was a massive explosion on board, pieces of the barge flying in the air, fire on the deck. Men were screaming and shouting and leaping into the water. Brendan and Chauncey concentrated fire on the men in the water, killing as many as they could.

  “Yes!” Brendan shouted. “We creamed their asses.”

  “Yeah, we did,” Chauncey yelled. “Juan Carlos, head towards that dock over there, okay? Let’s go make a mess.”

  “You got it, dude.” Juan Carlos sped towards the dock as men were running off it.

  “Hit those storage buildings off to the side, and on the end of the dock,” Chauncey shouted. He and Brendan fired, hitting their targets hard as men ran around in a panic.

  “Jet skis coming in from towards the starboard side,” Juan Carlos shouted. Brendan nodded, turning his big gun towards them and firing.

  “Damn, you cut those guys in half, dude!” shouted Juan Carlos.

  “Get back on the dock structures,” Chauncey shouted.

  “Got it,” Brendan said, turning his gun back at the dock. He concentrated fire on an out-building towards the left side of the dock, right on the water. It exploded, debris flying into the air in every direction.

  “Bullseye! Ammo dump!” Chauncey shouted as he continued to fire. “Get those trucks over there before they take off!”

  The two fired, stopping all but one truck, men bailing out of the back and the cab, slammed by .50 cal rounds.

  “Getting low on ammo,” Brendan shouted.

  “Yeah, me too,” Chauncey said. “I think we’d better high tail it with a little left.”

  “Okay,” Juan Carlos said, turning the boat around. They sped back towards the US side of the lake as the enemy base burned.

  Chauncey and Brendan got off of their guns and sat next to the pilot stand, catching their breath.

  “That was wild,” Brendan said.

  “Too wild,” Chauncey said. “These boats aren’t designed for that type of action. We need real military boats, not these police boats.”

  “I don’t know, dude,” Juan Carlos said, kissing his hand and smacking the pilot stand. “Our baby did pretty well.”

  “Yeah, but we lost a boat, and we were lucky.”

  “We need to have three people aboard,” Brendan said. “Every time.”

  “Yeah, I agree,” Chauncey said. “A driver and two gunners. Insane not to do that under these conditions.”

  “If the enemy has the resources, we’ll see more than jury-rigged barges on this lake,” Juan Carlos said.

  “I know, kid,” Chauncey said. “That’s what scares me. Wondering where our air support was, too. The Feds were supposed to be with us. Apaches and Cobras. I didn’t see any of them.”

  “Think they were at Arroyo Coyotes?” Brendan asked. “Lieutenant Frazier said there was a bigger battle coming there. He said we sent four boats.”

  “Maybe we better call Lieutenant Frazier,” Chauncey said.

  “Yeah,” Brendan said. He picked up the mic. “Lieutenant Frazier, come in.”

  Nothing but static.

  “Try again,” Chauncey said, looking worried.

  “Lieutenant Frazier, come in.”

  Still nothing.

  “Shit, dude, I got a bad feeling about this,” Juan Carlos said.

  “He might be in the middle of a battle,” Chauncey said. “Gimme that mic. I’ll call the base.”

  Chauncey switched channels and put the mic to his mouth. “Zapata, come in. Over.”

  There was static for a moment. “Zapata here. That you, Chauncey? Over.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Over.”

  “Thank God. Why aren’t you in your boat? Over.”

  “Blown up. I’m in Boat 26, with Juan Carlos and Brendan. Over.”

  “Jackson?”

  “Dead,” Chauncey said. “We accomplished the mission. Just tried to raise Lieutenant Frazier. No dice. Over.”

  There was silence on the line for a moment.

  “What’s going on?” Chauncey asked. “Over.”

  “We’ll talk when you get back to base. How long will it take you to get here? Over.”

  “Half an hour,” Chauncey said. “Over.”

  “Good, don’t stop for anything. Over.”

  “Roger that,” Chauncey said. “Over and out.” He hung the mike back on the bracket.

  “Something’s wrong, dude,” Juan Carlos said.

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Brendan said. “You think Frazier bought it?”

  “I hope not,” Chauncey said.

  They were quiet for the rest of the ride to base.

  Chapter 20 – Pleasure Plantation

  “Wow, this place is huge,” Kim said as they drove through the gate.

  “Yeah, it is,” Eric said. “Lot of park models here. Don’t expect too much from my rig. It’s old, but I picked it up cheap.”

  “That why you never took me home?” Kim asked.

  Eric shot her a glance but didn’t say anything.

  “Sorry. Some guys like to take it slow,” she said. “I’m okay with that.”

  “We only went out a few times, Kim.” Eric said.

  “Four,” she said. “Five counting the lunch thing we did at the beginning.”

  “That bothers you?”

  “No, it doesn’t,” she said. “Don’t take it the wrong way. I’d rather have you be that way than the usual.”

  “What’s the usual?”

  “Get me tipsy, take me home, try to get me naked right away. You were a refreshing change.”

  “There are still gentlemen out there, you know,” Eric said. “Especially in Texas.”

  She glanced at him with a soft smile on her face, eyes lingering. “There must be.”

  “I wasn’t lying about the guys after me,” he said. “I know it probably sounded like an excuse.”

  “Why would they be after you? I don’t get it.”

  “I break up their plans to rob elderly people of thousands of dollars,” he said. “Lately most of these scammers have no presence in the country, so they can’t do anything about me. Sometimes they’re in collusion with crooked American lawyers. Happened on a recent case, and the son of a bitch took out a contract on me.”

  “How much money did you hit him for?” Kim asked.

  “Two hundred grand, potentially, but that wasn’t the worst of it.”

  “What was the worst of it?”

  “I gave evidence to the Florida State Bar Association. He’s under investigation now, and he’s probably going to lose his law license.”

  “Good,” she said. “I’m proud of you for that, you know. You’re a good man.”

  He made a right turn, onto a street with a mixture of park model trailers and RVs.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “This guy still after you?”

  “Yeah,” Eric said. “Wait in the car for a moment after I park. I need to check the door.”

  “Check it for what?”

  “I put tape on the bottom. If somebody opened it, I’ll be able to tell.”

 
“Oh,” she said. “Geez, this is like a detective movie.”

  Eric shook his head, smiling. “Yeah, except it’s real people with real guns.”

  “Well, I know how to shoot,” Kim said. “Daddy taught me. I was better than all of my brothers.”

  “Really? Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He grinned as he turned into his space. His Class C was sitting under a tree over grass, looking peaceful and serene.

  “That looks nice to me,” Kim said.

  “It’s pretty clean, but it’s old. The inside isn’t fancy.”

  There was barking coming from inside.

  “Paco!” Kim said. “I love that little fella.”

  “Yeah, I think the feeling’s mutual,” he said. “Him and Molly are buddies too. Wait here, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said. She watched Eric get down and take a close look at the door jamb as Paco barked louder and faster. He got a worried look on his face and trotted over to the Bronco.

  “Somebody opened the door, huh?” Kim asked.

  He reached under the seat and grabbed his Glock. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Watch yourself.”

  “I’m packing,” Kim said, reaching into her purse, pulling out a Colt Python.

  “Girl after my own heart,” Eric said. He went to the coach in a combat crouch, looking around, then opened the door and leapt back, expecting an explosion. Paco leapt out the door and ran to him, tail wagging.

  “Okay?” Kim asked.

  “Don’t know yet.” He cautiously looked inside the coach. Nobody there. Then Paco growled, and Eric saw a huge, black haired man rushing him from behind the coach. He whipped around, gun in hand, but the man hit him in the face, grabbing for the weapon. Paco leapt towards the man as he pulled his own pistol and tried to point it at Eric.

  “I kill you, stupid American,” the man said in a heavy Russian accent. “Then I rape bitch.”

  Eric made a grab for the man’s gun, getting it out of his hands and tossing it across the street. The man flew into a rage and tackled Eric, ready to hit him again when Kim cocked her Python. The man froze as she walked up, the gun’s barrel pointed at his head.

  “Hold it right there, creep,” she said. “Get off of him.”

  Eric pushed the shocked man off of himself and grabbed his Glock, pointing it at him.

  “You regret this, bitch,” the man said in a Russian accent. “I find out where you live.”