Eddie saluted weakly in reply, intentionally allowing his dejection to be evident. One of the general’s officers, stuck his head into Eddie’s room as the general walked away and smiled. “Sit. Stay,” he said. “Good boy.” That drew a laugh from the other officers and a mock sad shake of the head from Eddie. They had it coming.
After all the turnover at the camp the past few weeks, this massive troop movement was going to leave only a dozen soldiers there with Eddie and Lazzo. As a demonstration of how little the General actually thought of Amadi, he was making him stay behind as well. That was just as well for Eddie. He and Lazzo could use another man.
The general, his four officers, and the other eighty soldiers left an hour later on the four-hour drive to Durango. It took Eddie, Lazzo, and Amadi less than fifteen minutes to kill the remaining eleven men at the camp, and then they quickly packed and got in a jeep themselves, tracking the chips in the officers’ backpacks. It was a big risk leaving the camp, knowing orders were to kill him if he ever left. Or if he killed eleven of the general’s men! Eddie smiled. The general’s orders had been crystal clear. Eddie simply had no intention of following them. He’d been waiting half a year for this day.
Sit? Stay? Ha! Eddie seethed, shaking his head and gripping the steering wheel, a cunning smile curving the corners of his lips. You’re not poaching my Americans!
SEVENTY-THREE: “Learning From Experience”
It bothered Eddie a little the Americans hadn’t gone the way he’d expected them to. He felt certain they would come out of the mountains and head directly south towards Mexico. He considered himself fortunate he’d been tuned in to the radio and caught the deviation, and had been prepared to alter his own course and plans as necessary. In that regard, all the whippings had been worth it.
Part of him was unsure whether these were the same Americans. It had given him a moment’s pause before he and Lazzo killed the eleven soldiers. But their moves were a little too strategic, too military, to be random chance. These had to be his lions. Sure, it was possible there were more Americans hidden in Estes Park over the winter, but it wasn’t too far to Durango from Buena Vista to go check. If he went there and it wasn’t them, he’d improvise again. He still had the radio, and it was on the same frequency as the Mexican commander’s. As long as he was near any of their communication towers, he would be able to get the same feed as the general. The only soldier who knew he and Lazzo had the radio was in the back seat with them. The radio and the tracking chips were advantages you usually didn’t get in a hunt. This was almost going to be too easy.
The general and his men had gone straight south, presumably a hundred miles down to Monte Vista, where they’d then turn west towards Durango. It was the shorter route, but not how Eddie wanted to go. He wanted to go directly west to Montrose and then south. He didn’t trust the Americans would do as they’d told the guards in Delta. If these were the same Americans, they didn’t tend to show their cards like that.
Eddie pulled into a gas station in Montrose just after 4 p.m. As Lazzo filled their jeep up, Eddie looked over his maps. Delta was a short ways north, and there was a small station with a radio tower there. Eddie decided to head up there.
When they arrived in Delta, he stayed in the jeep with the radio while Lazzo and Amadi went in to talk to the guards and congratulate them on their good work. Lazzo claimed he’d come straight from Central Command in Denver and since he still had his Intelligence Division badges, he made sure they were visible for the troops at the post. Lazzo took down some information from each of the guys and told them they should expect to receive commendations in the near future. They were thrilled. Anything to keep them from calling us in. Eddie laughed to himself in the jeep.
Lazzo and Amadi sat down for a lengthy celebratory late lunch/early dinner with the other soldiers while Eddie listened to the radio chatter. There was a lot of it. The Mexican commander, fortunately, loved to talk. The drones had been flying back and forth between Montrose and Durango all afternoon and had yet to pick up the stolen jeeps. Either the Americans were hiding somewhere waiting for darkness, or they had gone a different route. Eddie anticipated it was the latter. They never seemed to follow the main roads. That meant they had to have headed through the mountains, through Telluride. A few drones had flown that pass as well, but nothing was seen there either. Still, that made more sense to Eddie.
Between 6:30 and 7, as Lazzo and Amadi sat around having tea with the guards, Eddie heard the general radio the Mexican commander. They talked back and forth for a while. The general had set up a wide net around the Durango area. There was no way the Americans would get past him. The military base at Grand Junction had sent two hundred more men. Half of the men swept through the mountains down to Durango and, not having found the Americans on their sweep, had joined the general’s forces there. The other half remained posted ten miles south of Ridgeway State Park, at the entrance to a place called Rotary Park. They would stay there to block the Americans if they decided to turn back.
Intelligence was quite sure the Americans were trapped somewhere in between. Unless, of course, they’d gone somewhere other than Durango. Eddie was fully aware Central Command thought nothing of the intelligence of these Americans. Few other Americans had proved difficult in this entire endeavor. There’d been many gunfights but little strategy, and the Americans stood no chance in a weapons war. But an intelligence one…Eddie knew better than to underestimate his prey there. They had proven time and time again they were up to the battle of wits.
It would have been easy to call in forces from multiple bases, to corner and converge on the Americans—block all their possible routes—at so many different points in this journey. But that wasn’t how Eddie had wanted to play this. He’d wanted personal revenge for Markus’s death. Then these Americans had fooled him, and angered him—multiple times—so he continued the pursuit.
And then there was Cheyenne. When the Americans could have run away free, they’d come back and saved his life and Lazzo’s. He still didn’t understand that. They’d earned the one chance he’d given them, but he still wanted them dead. And he definitely didn’t want anyone else catching them first.
Eddie had been given the opportunity to out them when the vice president was killed, but he didn’t. He had gone into that meeting with The Seven commanders intent on sharing his knowledge if they pulled a gun on him. But when they didn’t, he kept it to himself. When he had visited the VP in the tent before taking him up to the alpine base, Eddie had noticed the mud on the floor leading to a cut across the back of the tent. It seemed to have been sealed from the outside, but that gap told Eddie someone had been there. He could have proved that to the commanders if he’d had to. But he didn’t. The demotion didn’t bother him because he still was in the game. This wasn’t a matter of rank or recognition for him. This was purely personal. These Americans had started this fight with him, and he intended to finish it himself.
Then he heard the words that changed everything.
SEVENTY-FOUR: (Ryan) “End of the Road”
We were on the road again at 9 p.m. As we pulled into the town of Ridgeway and up to the fork in the road leading to either Durango or Cortez, we happened upon a roadblock. Only this roadblock was different. The troops were armed with guns and spotlights. “Danny, this isn’t good,” Sam said right away. “Three guards. This is different.”
He was right, of course. Danny knew they were going to search every vehicle passing through now. He knew the chain reaction alert had been passed on from Estes Park. “Just roll my window down now, pull up to them slowly and then roll your window down. Say the word ‘now’ when I have a clear shot at more than one guy. Make sure you stay out of the way.”
Sam nodded. He pulled up to the blockade and stuck his hand out the window to wave. The closest man didn’t wave back though. He said, “Park. Get out of car.”
Sam put the car in park, leaned towards the middle of the jeep for a second, and then asked, “Now?”<
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The soldier right next to our jeep went down before either of the other two guards even saw the gun. Danny took the second guy out with another single shot. The third guy ran for the radio, but before he’d lifted it an inch Blake shot it out of his hand. Nice shot! Danny swung out of the car and ran to the man. He’d screamed once already when Blake’s shot hit his hand. Danny didn’t let him scream again. He swept the man off his feet and knelt on his chest with a knee to his throat and a Springfield to the man’s temple. He asked which way was the safe way to go. The anger in the man’s eyes when he pointed straight south told Danny all he needed to know. Fear always said one thing. Anger always said another. “We need to go west, guys,” Danny said to Sam and Isaac after he’d finished the last guy off. “They’re waiting for us south.”
According to the scale on our map, it was a little more than one hundred miles, half of it through the mountains, from Ridgeway to Cortez. It should take us about two and a half hours, with no problems. From Cortez we would continue south to Gallup, New Mexico, which would take another two or three hours. That would drop us halfway between the two likely base locations in Flagstaff and Albuquerque. There was plenty of forest south of Gallup, if we could just get there.
The first forty miles to Telluride were nerve-racking but went without incident. As we approached the small ski town, our road broke south. But before we could turn, we came upon another roadblock. There was something off with this one though. We could see jeeps parked beside the barricade, but there were no soldiers in sight. It was barely 10 p.m.; there was no way they were asleep. With four jeeps, there had to be more than three men at this one. What made things even more confounding was the gate being left up. We didn’t see anyone as we drove through. We continued south on Highway 145 towards Cortez, driving another hour without seeing any signs of life—beyond a million rabbits, that is. Man, how fast could those things repopulate?
Entering the small town of Dolores a dozen miles north of Cortez, we came upon another roadblock, this one with three jeeps. Once again, the gate was open with no soldiers around. What in the world was going on? We felt like we were driving into a trap, but we couldn’t stop. Right now we’d have done anything for a THIRST system, but we couldn’t afford the time to stop and check any of the jeeps. We had to keep going.
SEVENTY-FIVE: “General Direction”
General Roja had arrived in Durango before any other area soldiers had, but when the other troops joined them from Grand Junction, he decided he should set up his base somewhere else. That way, if anyone came through Durango someone else would slow them down, and after their fight the general would swoop in and kill them. It would be much easier that way, and he could stay a step ahead of the game.
He knew the Americans would be traveling at night. This was nothing more than reverse immigration. Several of the general’s family members had been working in America, mostly in Arizona, before the attacks. The general had pulled them all out safely, but they’d originally had to sneak their way into America. They always did so at night. The general knew the Americans hadn’t already passed him. They were still coming.
In Grand Junction they had a high-tech THIRST system, similar to what the drones and new helicopters carried. The Seven commanders had ordered it brought to Durango. The general pulled rank on the colonel from Grand Junction and insisted the advanced system go south with him another thirty-seven miles to the town of Aztec. It wasn’t a mobile system, but once set up it provided a fifty-mile range, and with that the general would be able to observe all traffic coming into both Durango and Cortez. From Aztec, at the onset of any action, he could move north to Durango if necessary, hold tight if anyone broke through—highly unlikely against one hundred men with jeeps and rocket launchers—or he could cut straight west towards Shiprock, and arrive before anyone from Cortez could get there. General Roja had it all covered from Aztec.
Another radar station had been set up in the town of Mancos, essentially halfway between Durango and Cortez. It was equipped with an aerial THIRST system—twenty mile range—and mostly being used to monitor traffic approaching Cortez through Dolores, and as a backup for the west exit from Durango. A vehicle had passed through Dolores, heading towards Cortez, around 11 p.m. It had stopped at the roadblock in Dolores for about twenty minutes before continuing slowly down to Cortez. One of the general’s officers had radioed the roadblock in Dolores after the vehicle had left, but he had received an “all clear” from the guards there. The colonel from Grand Junction had apparently relocated one of his jeeps from Telluride to Cortez.
Around midnight the station in Mancos radioed the general that there was activity in Dolores again. Two vehicles were pulling into town from Telluride. Before they made it to the roadblock, a third beacon suddenly appeared on the screen. It left the roadblock and moved towards Cortez. The other two vehicles were only a few miles behind it. This was definitely something. The general and all his men were immediately on their radios.
As the two vehicles passed the roadblock and continued south towards Cortez, six jeeps were sent west from Mancos. As the American vehicles came to the intersection with the road heading east to Durango, the six jeeps coming from Mancos were only two miles away. Also on the move—and having packed up the high-tech system in Aztec—the general was depending on the radar station in Mancos to keep him updated with all the movements. The officer on the radio in Mancos told General Roja the two American vehicles must have seen the lights coming because they had greatly picked up the pace. They were heading south towards Shiprock, but the six Qi Jia jeeps were rapidly closing on them.
The road from Cortez to Shiprock also had a two-way fork in it—directly south to Shiprock or diagonally west to Teec Nos Pos. The six Qi Jia vehicles were immediately behind the two American occupied ones now. The Americans were about to die.
SEVENTY-SIX: “Run. Stop. Run.”
Shortly After Midnight. Thursday, May 27, 2021.
Cortez, Colorado.
Pulling into Cortez, Danny saw the lights. “Sam. You gotta fly now, man.” Danny slid open the window at the back of the cab and slid into the back. He yelled at me over the howling wind to get everyone else reversely inside the jeep. We scrambled to comply, through that same small sliding window. Directly behind us, Isaac could see what we were doing, and he told Blake to do the same. Blake slid into the back and urged everyone else into the cab of their jeep. Blake could see the lights gaining ground on them. Please, God. We couldn’t go fast enough. We were loaded down, and they were coming too fast.
We were coming up on an intersection in the road, intending to go straight south, when the southern road exploded right in front of us. I shrieked in a soprano octave I didn’t even think I had, but it nearly went unnoticed with all the other screams around me. We all looked frantically around for where the rocket (or whatever it was) had come from, but no one saw anything other than the jeeps closing in on us. “Uh, Danny,” I yelled out the back window.
“No, Dad, we don’t have time to stop at Four Corners,” he yelled back. In other words, “shut up.”
Totally was not going to ask that anyway. “Where do we—” I started to ask, but with no choice now, Sam swerved to the right fork. “Never mind,” I yelled back to Danny. Appropriately, he ignored me.
The sign on the right of the road had an arrow pointing the direction we were now going, with the words Teec Nos Pos, and the number 18. Crap. 18 miles?
I’m not exactly sure why that distance bothered me. We probably weren’t going to make it another mile or two anyway. The jeeps were right on us now, and Blake was starting to take fire.
He was giving it back too though, and he managed to take out the front tire of the first jeep. It swerved wildly off the road into the ditch and then launched into the air on the other side, flipping and landing on its back. That bought us a little time, but the next jeep was closing again as we now were approaching a bright light ahead of us. It turned out to be a fire from another explosion on t
he road. We were forced to take a county highway northwest from there. The Four Corners Monument was definitely out of the question now. But as Isaac’s jeep turned onto the county road behind us, there was another giant explosion behind him. The front pursuing jeep was a ball of screaming fire, and the entrance to the road was completely gone. The four remaining jeeps cut off the road and managed to find their way around the flaming jeep and back onto the highway, but they’d lost a full minute on us.
We raced on, apparently up county road 162, according to Tara—who had scrambled to see where we were heading on the map. Danny stuck his head inside the jeep and yelled, “What the hell is going on?”
No one had a good answer for Danny’s question. Either someone was missing us with all these explosions, or we were being directed somewhere in particular. It felt like someone was trying to help us. But who? And where were they? As we approached a giant wall blocking the road with yet another hole blown through it, we became more convinced that we were being assisted. Without someone blowing a hole through the Great Wall of Colorado, this would have been a dead end. This was crazy! It had to be more Americans.
Tara yelled back to Danny that, based on the map, we were heading towards a place called Twin Rocks Trading Post, and beyond that Goosenecks State Park. There were no roads past it, but there was a river. The San Juan River. If we could get there, maybe we could get the rafts in the water. We hadn’t seen a helicopter yet, and they probably weren’t pulling boats behind them at these speeds. I nodded at Tara with an impressed look. I hadn’t even thought of our two inflatable rafts. It was worth a shot.
Danny seemed to agree. He yelled back, “Okay. Get us there.”
We were coming up on a major intersection at the Twin Rocks Trading Post, Highway 191 according to the map, and we could see a jeep parked on it, blocking us from turning right. We raced past it, staring at it, but it didn’t move. As the four jeeps behind us closed on that jeep there were four giant explosions, and three of the pursuing jeeps were destroyed. The fourth pursuer remained stranded behind the three burning vehicles. This time there was no way around. From the back of the second jeep, Blake saw the parked jeep turn its lights on and pull in behind us. It raced up on us quickly but didn’t fire at us. It stayed about a quarter mile back, out of Blake’s range. To say we were bewildered would have been another colossal understatement. As Highway 191 was about to break to the left we saw another jeep parked ahead, and a long trail of lights coming north towards us. “Go straight, Sam,” Tara yelled.
2020: Emergency Exit Page 34