Sons of War 3: Sinners

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  To further complicate things, Lolo required daily shots of RX-4. But Ray had prepared before his death, leaving Moose the address to a stockpile of RX-4 and silver just in case anything ever happened to him.

  Camilla would never forgive Ray for betraying Namid and killing Abdul. But in the end, Ray had tried to make things right by sacrificing himself for the team and his family.

  The convoy slowed as they drove into a dark tunnel. Drops of water splatted on the windshield.

  Camilla pulled out her Smith & Wesson. She was nervous—not because she didn’t trust her uncle, but because they were being hunted. Antonio would burn the city down and kill everyone in his path to find those connected with the death of his wife.

  Every life in all three trucks, young and old, was at risk.

  The Tahoe stopped ahead, and Moose hopped out. He turned on a flashlight as the convoy shut off all headlights.

  “Everyone, hurry,” Dom said. He picked Cayenne up and set her on the ground. She hopped over to the kids as they got out of the enclosed delivery truck.

  “Where’s your uncle?” Dom asked her.

  “He’ll be here soon.”

  The other Saints helped the families unload their belongings: Suitcases, backpacks, blankets, and pillows. It reminded Camilla of the days during the Second Civil War when people were fleeing for their lives.

  “Set up a perimeter,” Dom said.

  Pork Chop, Tooth, and Rocky took off running with their rifles, leaving Bettis and Camilla behind with Dom and Moose.

  Thunder boomed a few seconds behind a slash of lightning as a light rain fell outside the tunnel. The first in weeks.

  Another lightning bolt forked across the dark skyline, illuminating the faces of the kids and their parents as they stood waiting under the lip of the tunnel. Camilla walked over to Isaac.

  She knew what it was like to be an orphan, and she knew that there was nothing she could say to this young boy that would take away his pain.

  He shivered at the crack of thunder, and Camilla bent down next to him. Isaac had his dad’s intensity and his mother’s light eyes.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “Somewhere safe.”

  “Will my mom and dad be there?”

  Camilla looked up at Dom.

  “Your parents had to go to another place,” he said. “A better place.”

  “Why didn’t they take me?” Isaac asked.

  Camilla and Dom exchanged a glance, and she let him take over as he crouched and pulled his face mask away from his beard.

  “Sometimes, our moms and dads leave us and can’t take us with them. But that doesn’t mean they don’t love us or that they aren’t still with us. In fact, it’s because they love us more,” he said. “Your mom and dad love you very much, and they will always remain with you here . . . and here.”

  Dom pointed to his head and his heart.

  “But I want to be with them,” Isaac said. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  Dom gestured for Cayenne. She hopped over and nudged up against Isaac. Petting the dog cheered the boy up.

  “You’re never going to be alone,” Yolanda said. “You’re going to be with me and all these other people.”

  “We’re going to take care of you, sweetie,” Camilla said.

  The growl of diesel engines sounded in the distance, and Camilla unslung her AR-15.

  “Everyone, back,” Dom said. He herded the wives and children to the left side of the tunnel, and Camilla moved to the right with Bettis.

  The rumble of motorcycles rose after another crack of thunder.

  “Get ready,” Dom said.

  Camilla squinted at the approaching vehicles. If something went wrong, this would be on her. Then again, if something went really wrong, no one would be alive to blame her.

  She moved her finger to the trigger guard, praying her uncle hadn’t been compromised.

  Truck headlights dazzled her, forcing her back into the shadows. When her vision cleared, she saw multiple vehicles approaching. A tractor-trailer led the convoy down the wide river passage. Barbed wire festooned the front grille guard, and metal bars protected the windshield.

  She caught a glimpse of a gold cross surrounded by roses, painted on the hood.

  “It’s him,” Camilla said.

  The truck drove in and kept rolling, stopping a few hundred yards from the tunnel entrance. Motorcycles squeezed by on both sides, the riders armed with compact submachine guns.

  The big rig’s passenger door opened, and a man stepped down from the cab. She heard the click of a cane on pavement as her uncle walked into view.

  “You all ready, or what, mis amigos?” he called out.

  Camilla felt her face stretch into the first smile in days.

  “It’s okay,” she said, gesturing for the team to lower their weapons.

  Dom slung his rifle and joined her out in the rain to meet her uncle.

  “How many you got?” Álvaro asked.

  “Seven kids and two adults,” Dom replied.

  Álvaro looked over their shoulders at the women and children behind them.

  “Where are you taking them?” Moose asked.

  “Place in northeastern Iowa,” Álvaro said. “Green fields, clear water, and best of all, it’s safe. One of my crews just got back from a trip a few weeks ago. Long drive, but worth it.”

  Moose lowered his head slightly. Camilla had a feeling this was going to be hardest on the big guy. After losing his brother, he was now being wrenched away from his family.

  But at least, they were still alive.

  “All right, let’s get moving,” Dom said.

  Rocky, Tooth, and Pork Chop returned to help load up the vehicles. A few minutes later, they had everyone rounded up outside the trailer.

  The convoy was an impressive setup that included an escort of four cars, six motorcycles, and two semis. One of the crew unlocked the steel doors to the back of the first trailer to reveal a large living space inside.

  “Welcome to your new casa for the next few days or a week,” Álvaro said.

  “Wow, cool,” Bryon said.

  Tamara stepped up and looked inside, then turned back to Moose.

  “Dad, I don’t want to go,” she said. “I want to stay with you.”

  Camilla walked away, leaving the families to say goodbye as she scanned for hostiles. This would make the perfect place for an ambush.

  But her uncle was prepared.

  At the front of the convoy, the six men on motorcycles watched the sloping concrete riverbank for trouble. Behind them, the first truck’s railings and bumpers were wrapped with barbed wire, and men wearing armor and gas masks stood inside two turrets on top, sweeping the .50-caliber machine guns over the riverbank for hostiles.

  Camilla walked back to check the other vehicles. Four supporting cars were decked out with armored plates, brush guards, off-road tires, and turbocharged engines.

  Finally, there was a second semi, loaded with gear, gasoline, and more soldiers.

  Able to relax now, Camilla returned to her team for goodbyes.

  Moose kissed Yolanda and then wrapped her in a hug. After they parted, he bent down to scoop up Bryon and Tamara in his massive arms.

  “I’ll see you kids soon,” he said.

  “Why can’t you come?” Bryon asked.

  “I got to stay here, but I’ll be with you in a little while,” he said.

  Yolanda walked over to Dom.

  “Make sure you keep that promise,” she said.

  Dom gave her a hug, then unslung his backpack. He waited for Moose to finish saying goodbye to his brother’s family. When he parted, Dom walked over and handed the bag to Moose.

  “What’s this?” he asked, unzipping the bag.

  “Satellite phone, some extra coin, and a little something I wanted you to have,” Dom said.

  Moose ruffled through the contents and pulled out a SIG Sauer 1911 Nightmare.

  “What’s this?” he as
ked, looking up.

  “A parting gift.”

  “I don’t understand. This was your dad’s.”

  “And now it’s yours, brother,” Dom said. He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s already brought me luck, and now I hope it’ll bring you luck on the journey east.”

  Moose lowered the gun and shook his head. “I’m staying.”

  “Your family needs you, Andre. We’ll be fine here.”

  Camilla and the other Saints gathered around.

  “We’ll take good care of Dom,” Rocky said.

  “Be careful out there, big guy,” Tooth said.

  Moose sniffled, then drew in a deep breath. He embraced them each in turn, stopping on Dom last.

  “Call me on the sat phone if you run into trouble.”

  Moose nodded. “Once I get my family there safe, I’ll come back.”

  “Let’s go, amigos,” Álvaro said, tapping his cane on the concrete. “This train is leaving in cinco minutos.”

  The team said their final goodbyes, and Camilla went to Isaac.

  “I hear there are fish where you’re going!” she said, bending down. “Catch me one, okay?”

  Isaac looked up, his eyes searching hers.

  She ruffled his hair and helped him into the back of the truck with the other passengers. Moose took one of the M4s from the back of a pickup truck and climbed in after his family, holding a hand up to his friends.

  “Good luck, boss,” he said.

  “You too, brother.”

  “That it, or do we have any other last-minute guests?” Álvaro asked, turning his eye to Camilla. “Last chance, Cam.”

  She shook her head and looked over to Dom. “We got unfinished business here.”

  He coughed into his mask and pulled it down to pop a pill as the convoy rumbled to life.

  Camilla glanced at him as he forced the fat pill down.

  “I thought you were done with that junk,” she said.

  He licked his lips, hesitating.

  “It’s not a rush pill,” he said. “It’s RX-Four.”

  * * *

  The morning after the families left the city, Dom was headed for a face-to-face with Lieutenant Marks at the solar farm. It felt odd having Rocky and Tooth by his side instead of Moose, but he had done the right thing by sending his old friend to be with his family, and he still had the rest of the surviving Saints.

  Pork Chop and Bettis were camped out in rock outcroppings in the distance, and Camilla waited in a vehicle just in case this was an ambush. But if it was, the team could do little more than make their enemies pay dearly.

  Storm clouds lingered over the solar panels sponging up whatever meager rays penetrated. Wind turbines sliced the air, feeding energy to a city on the verge of collapse.

  And Dom blamed himself.

  He walked down the dusty path between rows of solar panels, contemplating the past few weeks. It all had started the night of the port raid. He should have backed off when the cops arrived.

  Embracing evil had gotten Namid, his wife, and their unborn child killed. It had gotten Abdul killed. Jason and Lenny were dead. And how many others?

  The night at the port had started a chain reaction that Dom couldn’t stop. He looked over at Rocky and Tooth. The tan shemaghs and fatigues, body armor, and automatic rifles didn’t help him relax.

  He had a bad feeling about the first face-to-face meeting with Marks in months. A lot had changed in that time, including his health.

  But the truth was out now.

  Dom was sick with radiation poisoning. Abdul had diagnosed him a month ago, and he could no longer lie to the team. It wasn’t just radiation poisoning. He had chemical toxins in his blood from inhaling alkaline dust. According to the late doctor, the condition would worsen and even kill him if left unchecked.

  That didn’t scare Dom. He wasn’t afraid of dying from a disease or a bullet. He was afraid of dying before he could finish his mission of cleansing Los Angeles of Don Antonio Moretti.

  He wiped the sweat from his forehead and stopped to scan the buildings in the distance with his binos. Despite the side effects of RX-4, he actually felt better now that he had slept a full night.

  He centered the binos on the buildings at the eastern edge of the solar farm. This was where Marks had asked them to meet, only a few miles from the seawater desalination plant where Dom first met Councilman Castle.

  “Got a bad feelin’ about this,” Rocky said.

  “Marks won’t betray me, and he hasn’t let us down yet,” Tooth said.

  “I didn’t think Ray would screw his own brother, either,” Rocky said. “Goes to show, you can’t trust anyone in this world.”

  Dom looked at him.

  “Well, except us, obviously,” Rocky said.

  “Just shut up already, Rock,” Tooth said.

  Dom led the way, noticing a glint of light from the third-story window of an adjacent building—Pork Chop’s signal that the coast was clear.

  Aside from Bettis, the young deputy was their best marksman, and Dom had positioned him there with a M107 .50-caliber sniper rifle.

  Dom, Rocky, and Tooth took another path through the maze of solar panels until they got to their target, a one-story structure with a metal roof that looked more like a hangar than a warehouse.

  Windows wrapped around the structure, providing firing zones inside. Dom checked the rock outcroppings on a distant hill where Bettis was set up with his M107.

  Another flash of light told him it was clear.

  “Let’s go,” Dom said.

  Rocky was first to the door and took up position on the right side. Tooth waited behind Dom, rifle up.

  Dom opened the door, revealing a long space furnished only with stacks of crates. In the middle of the room stood Lieutenant Marks. He looked as though he had aged several years in the past few weeks. Dark bags hung under his eyes, and his regrown mustache was almost entirely gray.

  The captain wasn’t alone.

  Six men shouldered their weapons at the Saints. Marks was the only one who didn’t raise a weapon.

  “Whoa, whoa!” he called out, holding up his hands.

  “What the fuck is this?” Dom shouted. He moved his barrel over each masked face in turn. The soldiers were all armed with the newest M4A1 models and wore camouflage fatigues and body armor.

  “Tell them to stand down or this gets ugly, fast!” Dom shouted.

  Marks held up his hands and stepped in front of the other men.

  “Stand down,” he ordered.

  One of the soldiers stepped out from the group and said, “This is just precautionary.”

  “So’s this,” Tooth said. He took a step forward, but Rocky and Dom held their ground. They were outgunned inside, but if bullets started flying, his men would take these guys down.

  Although it would be certain death for the Saints.

  Dom had to play it cool.

  “You said you were coming alone,” he said. “Who are these guys?’

  “I’m sorry, but I knew you wouldn’t come if I told you the truth,” Marks said calmly.

  “Fuck this,” Rocky said. “Let’s bounce, boss.”

  “Hold on,” Dom said. “Let him explain first.”

  “These men are friends from Naval Station Norfolk in Virginia,” he said. Marks gestured toward the tall middle-aged man with short-cropped hair dusted by gray. “This is Captain Rick Sanns of the United States Navy.”

  “I’d appreciate it if your men lowered their guns, Captain,” Dom said. He had no idea what the military wanted with his team, but if they didn’t get their shit together, the Saints were going to drop them.

  “Friends don’t point guns at one another,” Rocky said.

  “Like I said, this is just precautionary,” said Sanns.

  “So’s that little dot on your chest,” Dom said.

  The captain showed them his salt-and-pepper buzz cut as he looked down at the red spot jiggling in the square inch over the center o
f his heart. The other men looked around and raised their rifles at the windows.

  “Well, I can see why you guys have survived this long,” the captain said.

  “We’re very careful,” Dom said. He kept his rifle aimed at one of the men.

  “I’m sorry,” Marks said. “This was the only way.”

  “Sorry for lying to us?” Rocky said.

  “I’m sorry to hear about Namid and Victoria. We’ve taken quite a few of our own losses, as you well know.”

  He walked toward Dom with his palms up. “You’re more like your dad than I realized. You know how to piss off your enemies.”

  “We wouldn’t have to do what we do if the LAPD did their job,” Rocky said.

  Dom glanced over, silencing the kid.

  Marks stopped when he got to Dom, and stuck out his hand. Dom relaxed enough to shake but kept his weapon up with the other hand.

  “I’m really sorry to meet under these conditions,” Marks said.

  “Me too.”

  Marks looked back at Captain Sanns, who stepped forward, chest out and chin up. He filled out his uniform well, reflecting a warrior who cared about his own ability to keep up with those under his command.

  “I’m here on behalf of the Executive Council of the United States of America,” Sanns said. “The Council has had a hopeful eye on Los Angeles for several years now. Unfortunately, things have gotten worse here.”

  “Not going to disagree with you there,” Dom said.

  “With the recent fall of several major cities, we can’t afford to lose any more,” Sanns said.

  Dom recalled the rumors, but he was so focused on Los Angeles, those places may as well be foreign countries.

  “I’ve heard a lot about your team, and I respect your efforts. That’s why I wanted to do this in person,” Sanns continued. “When I was a much younger man, I was assigned to SEAL Team Seven. We worked with the DEA and South American governments to fight the narcos, and later we took the fight to the Mexican cartel. Things have changed considerably since the war that left our country in ruins.”

  Dom scrutinized the veteran captain. Goddamn, it would be good to have these guys in the fight, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  “I know better than most what you’re up against,” Sanns continued. “But your vigilante and guerrilla tactics have made the situation in Los Angeles worse.”