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DRUMS OF WAR: A Dystopian Thriller Series (Broken Patriot Book 1)

Page 6

by Long, Timothy W.


  He tightened the straps on his SOE rig one more time, and then went downstairs to wait for the van.

  * * *

  Ryan pulled up exactly five minutes later. Jim Belmore was the first one out the door. He kept his gaze down, overcoat closed, and ball cap over his eyes. He slid into the van and was quickly followed by Daniel. The Hispanic man who didn’t say much was the last out before Chris. The guy had been a little creepy from the beginning. He carried a big Rambo knife at his side and fiddled with the handle when he looked bored.

  He had a classic Vietnam era M16 and half a dozen magazines on him. He covered it with a brown trench coat when he went out.

  Chris was the last one out the door. They would meet up here afterwards, and then he would make the call. One hour later, they would split up and drift out of the house and back to their lives. That was, assuming they survived. Chris was under no delusions they wouldn’t meet a force of police or worse military who seemed to be increasingly patrolling the streets, even though the National Security Advisor claimed that wasn’t happening.

  He slid into the passenger side of the van and closed the door.

  Chris nodded at him, and then they pulled away from the curb. It was going to be a twenty minute drive, so he sat back and closed his eyes.

  * * *

  They pulled over and exited the van. The mob of protesters had been arriving for an hour, if not longer. As far as the eye could see, people carried signs protesting the president. Men and women shouted into megaphones, whipping the crowds into a frenzy.

  The march was supposed to begin outside of the UIC pavilion. He hadn’t studied their path because there were supposed to be so many people here. They walked nearly a half mile to put some distance between themselves and their ride. Anyone not back at the allotted time would be left behind.

  The counter protest had already setup camp and a clash was imminent. The two groups faced off against each other, but no one had started throwing things yet. Chris had watched enough footage on CNN and FOX to know these people didn’t really know what they were doing out here. They hated stuff, other people hated stuff, the two groups equally hated each other.

  “Look at those assholes. Someone brought kids,” Daniel said.

  “No kids,” Chris reminded them.

  “Yeah, right. Not a patriot out there. Kill `em all and let God sort `em out.” Daniel grinned.

  They assembled with the second squad behind the cover of a bus stop. People walked past, but they barely paid attention to the group. Ten strong. The men removed nitrate gloves and slid them over their hands. They shrugged out of their overcoats and slapped on ski masks.

  They had been provided with hoodies and sweatshirts that bore a variety of 2nd amendment slogans like Don’t Tread on Me, and Death before I give up my guns. These provided cover for their body armor, but there was no ski mask in the world that would stop a round.

  Chris let his AR-10 hang off a three-point sling. The two squads moved out in a wall toward the first group of protesters.

  Daniel was the first one who opened fire. Ryan followed suit, and then the Hispanic man.

  Chris moved alongside them, but he was on point. He shifted his aim, followed the red dot, and picked off a few targets in the farther group.

  The sound of weapon’s fire was deafening. Smoke rose as they shot over and over again. Shells clattered across the pavement. Magazines were ejected and replaced with fresh ones.

  The protesters turned into a mob as they fought to flee. They crashed into each other with bloody wounds. Chris’s objective had been clearly laid out for him. He was to wound only if necessary. He was to kill as many as he could.

  They advanced as a team with rifles firing indiscriminately. He shifted his gun and moved with the others as they mowed down civilians by the dozen. Daniel had been warned not to aim at the little ones, but he seemed to delight in shooting kids. Chris thought about turning the gun on him and wondered if any of the other guys would even care. More than likely, they would take him out, thinking he intended to kill them all.

  Chris fumed but continued with his task. His magazine ran dry so he hit the release and slapped another one home. He released the charging handle and resumed firing.

  Screams of pain and wails of terror met them. They moved so close to the protesters they had to step over bodies. The Hispanic man pulled his sidearm and shot a few in the head to make sure they were dead, then went back to firing with his big gun.

  A man lay on the ground. He clutched his chest where blood bubbled out of a wound. Chris was going to move over him and keep firing but showed mercy and finished him with a shot to the skull. The man’s head bounced off the hard pavement, blood and pink brain matter exited the wound, and then he was still.

  Someone opened fired on them from across the street. Daniel lifted off his feet and fell backward. He groaned and reached for his midsection. The body armor under his bulky sweatshirt probably saved him, and that was a shame. Chris thought about leaving him there but offered his hand instead. The rest of the squad pointed at the area the round had come from. The Hispanic man ducked as more shots rattled from that direction.

  Ryan aimed and dropped the guy who had been hiding behind a mailbox, pointing a large caliber handgun at him. Ryan was sharp and it only took one round to blow the guy’s head off.

  The protesters had been whipped into a true frenzy as panic had set in. The two death squads had terrified the throng, and now thousands of people ran, creating a stampede that would leave hundreds of casualties.

  Chris checked his watch, found he had thirty seconds left, and opened fire again.

  * * *

  They tossed their weapons as they ran from the AO. Daniel, back on his feet after taking a round that was stopped by his body armor, wheezed, and ran his hand over his chest. They shed their weapons, ammo, gear, and outer garments. In the madness, they had become just a group of people running from the scene. The last thing they removed were the nitrate gloves. Those went into a plastic grocery bag, to be thrown out before they rendezvoused back at the safe house.

  A helicopter followed their progress but they used a crowd of people staring at the scene of carnage to their advantage. They wove in, still shedding clothing until they were in pants and T-shirts that were nothing like the inflammatory messages they had worn into the battle.

  They split up and negotiated the chaos for twenty minutes, then circled back around and made for the van. The second squad, minus one of their members, piled into their vehicle and roared off.

  Chris wondered what had happened to the missing warrior. With the exception of Daniel, they had come out of the melee unscathed.

  They piled into the van and remained quiet all the way back to the safe house, which they navigated to via back roads and a lot of backtracking to shake off anyone who may have been tailing them.

  Daniel finally broke the silence. “Hell of a thing, killing a man.”

  “Or a kid,” Chris muttered.

  Daniel massaged his chest and lifted his shirt. A red splotch, which would turn purple in the coming hours, spread just above his waist line.

  “Shit happens in the heat of battle,” Daniel said. “A few more inches lower and I’d have been a goner.”

  “Yeah. A goner. Hope you enjoyed yourself,” Chris said.

  “Got the job done. Sent the message. Whatever. Don’t be such a fucking pansy. You were there with us, a full participant. Don’t see why it matters who we killed.” Daniel sneered.

  “Whatever,” Chris muttered.

  “Ain’t gonna matter in a week anyway. Gonna be enough misery to make this country finally look at themselves and realize they’ve been living a lie. Less mouths to feed, less voices to bitch about stuff,” Daniel said.

  He was right. The country was in for a rude awakening, and this was just the beginning.

  Chapter Eight

  James Briggs woke up at four AM. He had been anxious for the last few days and sleep had been elusive. His g
rades were getting worse and worse, and if he didn’t maintain a certain grade point in college, the National Guard wasn’t going to keep paying for his business degree.

  He had hoped to go back to sleep, after all, it was a rare day off from his regular job as a welder at Hooper Industries. He sometimes had weekends off, but they were always overworked and undermanned. Plus, it helped line his savings account so he could do nice things for his girlfriend Shannon.

  But a recent hacker had gotten into his accounts and stolen $1,200. James wished he could track the guy down and beat the crap out of him. The bank had been helpful, but they had no answer as to when his money would be returned. The hacker had worked out of Malaysia, but James had done some research and found that the SOB was probably from another country, maybe even Russia, and it might take weeks for the bank to finish investigating. So now he had about a hundred bucks to get him through the next week until payday. He wasn’t sure how in the world he was going to cover all of his bills.

  He didn’t even know how to tell Shannon. She was thinking about moving in with him, but how was this going to look? He wouldn’t be able to pay his electric bill, hell, his rent if he didn’t go and sell some stuff at the pawn shop. He had an old ring that had been passed down from his great grandfather. It was gaudy, gold, and had a bunch of diamonds embedded in the band. He’s had it appraised at nearly 6K. When his grandmother had given it to him, she had told him he should have the gold melted down and the diamonds reset in an engagement band. He wasn’t sure when he would ask Shannon to marry him. He’d be an idiot not to. She got him, and she was more and more staying at his place. They shared some liberal views, although she tended to have more of a conservative background. Early in their relationship, they had decided not to talk about politics because it would only lead to arguments.

  James rolled over and found her sleeping next to him. She didn’t have a lick of clothing on and the covers had been pushed down so he had a glorious view of her breasts. Shannon was gorgeous and way out of his league. She had long ash brown hair that often curled on the ends when there was some humidity. She was a little bit of a fitness nut and liked to jog. This made her figure toned and sexy as hell.

  They had met, thanks to a friend, and he’d almost immediately given up. After a drink, he had slipped into his good natured, smart-mouthed self, and she had laughed at a lot of his jokes.

  James was only five foot ten and Shannon was two inches shorter. He had assumed she would be into really tall guys, but she had told him she didn’t really like guys that much larger than her. He assumed she was just placating him, but after a few months of dating, he realized she had been serious.

  He had grown serious with her as well. If things kept up like this, he would have enough money saved for a knock out engagement ring.

  “What are you staring at?” She asked him.

  “Just taking you in,” he said.

  “Perv. Maybe I should start wearing a parka to bed.”

  “That would be a real shame. How would you be able to feel me cuddling you?”

  “You have a good point.” She rubbed her blue eyes and blinked rapidly.

  They had shared a bottle of wine last night before going to bed and having some heated sex. He had been so looking forward to a repeat, until the call came in. Shit.

  “You want to keep me interested, right?” He winked.

  “If you’re not interested in me by now, buddy, we need to have a long hard talk,” she said.

  “I’m all kinds of interested in you,” he grinned, then leaned over and kissed her.

  She grabbed the back of his head and held him there while her tongue darted into his mouth. When they broke apart, he was more than a little aroused.

  “That’s a fine how do you do,” he said.

  “How about this how do you do?” Shannon asked and pushed the covers off her body.

  She cocked one tanned leg up and lowered it to the bed. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  His land line rang.

  “What the hell is that?” Shannon said.

  “It’s my phone.” James hopped out of bed, stepped over a pile of his clothes from the night before, then nearly tumbled over a full clothes hamper he had put off taking downstairs to wash.

  He kept a land line because it was part of his cable deal, but also, it was used in the event the National Guard had to call.

  “Hello?

  “Specialist Briggs, this is Sergeant Wells. Sorry for the early call but we’re on deck. How soon can you make it to the armory?”

  “Seriously?”

  “I don’t like it any more than you do, but there’s something big brewing. Be prepared for what could turn into an extended deployment.”

  “Did we just go to war with someone?” James couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “I can’t say right now. Just be there ASAP. If can get a hold of Skip Kozlowski, I’d appreciate it if you passed the word. He isn’t answering his phone.”

  “I’ll try to get him. He lives a few miles from me.”

  “Excellent. See you at the armory, Specialist.”

  “Aye, Sergeant,” James said in disbelief, then hung up the phone. He dug out his cell phone to call Koslowski and found he’d missed two calls there as well as a message from Wells.

  “I have to go,” he blurted.

  “What?”

  “I have to go. I got called up, I’m sorry. I’d rather stay in bed all day with you,” he said. “It’s weird. I never expect to get deployed.”

  “What the hell? Are you leaving me?” Shannon asked in disbelief.

  “I don’t know what’s happening, and I probably won’t until I get to the armory. I hope it’s nothing major,” he said as he moved to his closet.

  “Do you have time for a quick shower?” she asked and slid out of bed.

  “How quick?” James cocked an eyebrow.

  “I guess that depends on you,” Shannon said and strolled into the bathroom. She glanced over her shoulders and shot him a look. “Coming?”

  “I don’t know if I have… I mean, I should hurry,” he stammered.

  “So, if you’re gone for a while, the last memory of me is going to be my ass?”

  “I can think of worse things in the world.” James grinned.

  “Just get your own ass in here, and I’ll give you a quick send off.”

  James looked between her and his closet where his BDU’s hung. Then he made up his mind and chased her into the bathroom. He grabbed her butt, she giggled, slapped his hand away, started the shower, then turned and pressed herself against his body.

  * * *

  James rushed through his morning routine. He shaved and brushed his teeth while Shannon sat on the edge of the tub, applying lotion to her body.

  “Are you going to be okay locking up my place?” he asked.

  “It’s okay. I’ll stop by and check on it if you’re gone for a while.”

  “I hope I’m not,” he said and directed his attention to throwing a little gel in his hair. He should have gotten a haircut a few weeks ago, but he figured he had another week until his monthly commitment to spend two days practicing with his regiment.

  “I don’t want you to go,” Shannon said.

  He turned to her, “I don’t want to go either. All I know for sure is that it’s something local so there’s a good chance it won’t last for very long. I’d be surprised if it lasts more than a few days.”

  He hurried to the bedroom and slid into some underwear and a T-shirt, then he retrieved his BDUs from the closet. Shit, he hadn’t cleaned them yet, but he had a clean set in his away bag. He sniffed them and decided they would have to do. With such little notice being given, the staff sergeant would probably overlook it.

  “You look so hot when you put that on,” Shannon said.

  She stood in the doorway, still naked, hair wet, arms at her side, giving him an unobstructed view of her body. He took a mental snapshot or three.

  “You need t
o put some clothes on or I’m going to be really late,” he said.

  “Promises, promises,” she said.

  “I’ll message you as soon as I know what the deal is.” He hauled out his just in case bag. He had extra underwear, socks, his clean set of BDUs, a first aid kit, and toiletries ready to go.

  He pulled out his apartment keys and took off the one to his front door. That reminded him again that he should have made one for Shannon by now.

  “Be careful out there, please. I really care about you,” she said as she accepted the key.

  “I love you, too,” he said.

  “You do?”

  “Of course, I do,” he smiled.

  “Well I love you back,” she said and hugged him.

  He would remember this moment because it was the last time he saw Shannon for a long time.

  Chapter Nine

  Shortly after they had purchased the home Bradley had made a couple of updates to the basement. The door had been replaced with a thicker security door, and he had closed up the stairwell entryway so he could affix a metal ingress point.

  The second door would stand up to some pretty severe damaged. When locked from below it would keep his family safe in the event of an emergency. He had then punched a hole in the wall, and run piping to a location twenty feet from the house that would work as an exhaust point to expel smoke in case they needed to make a fire.

  Bradley had planned to install a small station so he could create a small oven, but those had been put on hold a few years ago as money had gotten tighter. They did not have a bug out location in the woods. As much as he wanted to it was simply too expensive. Now he cursed the fact that they could potentially be stuck here if things continued to go south.

  Bradley went downstairs and considered the pile of boxes in the corner. They covered half a dozen locked black plastic bins.

  His stomach grumbled, and he decided to put this off for a little bit. The truth was, he wanted to watch a little more of the news, see what all in the hell was happening in the world. After the shocking video this morning, he had trouble concentrating.

 

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