Bishop's Song

by Joe Nobody

  “We are good to go,” Bishop responded, feeling a bit like a supporting character in a spy movie using the pre-agreed phrase. If he had said anything else, Hugh wouldn’t land.

  Walking off the center of the runway, he gave the pilot plenty of room… just in case. The ex-Air Force man put the wheels down gently and rolled to a stop a few minutes later following Bishop’s waving arm to pull close to the airfield’s sole building.

  “What’s up, Slick?” Deke greeted as he exited the plane. “Did you get us accommodations at the local Four Seasons?”

  Bishop pretended to check his watch, managing to keep his voice deadpan, “Yes, I’ve got the presidential suite reserved, and I think you’ll find it adequate, sir. We’d better hurry though, I have booked your massage appointment at the spa to begin in 30 minutes.”

  Deke laughed as he moved toward the cargo hold of the plane. “I hope she’s one of those Asian back-walker types. They always give the best rub downs.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I scheduled your session with Vito, the testosterone-charged, hairy ex-linebacker. I thought you preferred a more vigorous encounter.”

  And so it went, back and forth, while the men unloaded the plane’s cargo. Hugh, wisely, remained above the exchange, obviously focused on getting his airplane back in the air as soon as possible.

  Two 50-gallon drums of fuel came off first, quickly followed by cases of ammunition, food and other supplies. All of the load was rolled, carried or shoved to be stored in the small reception area.

  “Okay, that’s it,” announced the pilot. “Terri sends her love. Your son is doing fine. Nick wants you to keep your head and your ass lower. That’s all of the messages I was supposed to deliver.”

  Bishop dug in his pocket, producing a slip of paper with a neatly written list of items. “Hugh, get this list to Nick and Terri when you get back. There’s been a slight modification to the plan, and we’re going to need these objects. Please tell Terri I love her and that I’m doing just fine. It’s safe here for the time being.”

  The pilot scanned the list, twice glancing up with a questioning look but never saying a word. “Will do,” was his only response, and then he was climbing back into the aircraft.

  Deke and Bishop watched him take off, both men experiencing a small pang in their guts as their lifeline to home and safety slowly disappeared into the distance.

  “So what’s the situation here?” Deke asked.

  “I’ve made friends with the locals, gathered Intel on our destination and can even offer you a roof over your head tonight.”

  “Well, what the fuck have you been doing all this time, slacker? Lord in heaven, this ain’t a pleasure cruise, ya know,” Deke teased.

  “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the locals. If you’re nice, they won’t eat you. I’d put it at 50-50 you’ll see tomorrow’s dawn.”

  Deke grinned, “What more can a man ask for?”

  Bishop wanted to show Deke the truck, now pulled close to the airfield. As the two men approached what would essentially be their home and base of operations for several days, Bishop produced his best used car salesman’s voice, “Yes-sir-ee, she’s low mileage, she is. Good rubber, runs smooth as a baby’s butt. Only driven by a little old lady to church on Sundays. I bet this here pick’em up truck’s never been over 40 mile per hour in its young life.”

  The newly arrived contractor played along, walking around the truck like he was seriously considering a purchase. He even kicked one of the tires. “But I was hoping for something a little brighter color.”

  Deke peered inside, spotting the bundle of hanging wires below the steering column. “Let me guess,” he grinned. “It has a salvage title.”

  “I salvaged it all right,” Bishop replied. “We can put it back with a note about the damage after we’re through if it will make you feel better.”

  Deke’s reply was interrupted, the operator’s rifle snapping to his shoulder as he dropped into a crouching position, ready to engage. Bishop was a little slower, moving beside his partner and covering the opposite direction. A voice called out from the woods, “Bishop! Bishop, it’s Frank. I saw the plane. Is everything all right?”

  “It’s cool,” Bishop informed the now-alert contractor. “Remember, behave yourself or you might end up in the stew.”

  “Come on in, Frank,” Bishop yelled toward the woods.

  A few moments later, Frank appeared, paired with one of the other rangers. Bishop motioned for Deke to follow, immediately introducing the new arrival.

  “Lunch is about ready,” Frank announced. “I thought I would see if you gents needed any help storing your supplies, but I see we are too late.”

  As the four men headed for the lodge, Deke asked, “What’s this change of plans you mentioned to Hugh, and how badly am I going to think it sucks?”

  “Oh, you’ll love it. Have you ever played a law enforcement officer on TV?”

  Snorting, Deke replied, “No, but if I’m being sworn to uphold the law, you know my first act will be to arrest you for grand theft auto.”

  Alpha, Texas

  July 6, 2016

  “He wants what?” Terri exclaimed, a mixture of shock and anger in her voice.

  “A dress,” Hugh replied, nervous about being the messenger. “Size seven, blue, if possible. The nicest in town.”

  “Let me see that note,” Terri replied, moving Hunter to the opposite arm. After reading down her husband’s list, her gaze returned to the shuffling pilot as if asking for an expanded explanation. “A dress? Wax? Hand cuffs or nylon restraints? What? Is my husband on a rescue mission or attending an orgy?”

  “I’m sure Bishop has a good reason for the request,” Hugh offered, flushing red with embarrassment.

  “He better. Anyway, go to the church and ask one of the volunteers there to help you find a dress. Don’t make it too pretty. I have no idea where to find canning wax, but Diana might know. Nick can take care of the rest of it.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Hugh responded, turning to leave. Before he could reach for the door, Terri stopped him.

  Softly, almost in a whisper, she said, “Hugh… seriously… please tell me… did Bishop really seem alright?”

  Smiling, the pilot turned to face her. “Yes, as far as I could tell. I didn’t really talk to him much. He and Deke were insulting each other and joking most of the time… in a good-natured way… I think. He seemed a little high strung, but who wouldn’t be?”

  Terri took a step forward and put her hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she responded softly. “Thank you so much. Please let me know if you have any trouble rounding up the items on that list.”

  She watched the pilot leave her office, and then gazed down at the round, cherubic face of her child. “Let me tell you something about your father,” she began. “He vents stress by spewing horrible puns and sometimes inappropriate innuendo. That’s how he copes. Some of the people you encounter in life will become deadpan serious during an emergency, others simply fall apart. You, my sweet child, have been blessed with a dad who tells bad jokes. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about it. He’s old and set in his ways. I think you’ll still love him. I do.”

  Terri smiled down at Hunter’s lack of reaction, the infant seemingly happy to stare at his mother’s adoring face. “You know what is even worse? I’ve started doing it too. It’s contagious or something. You poor thing; you’ll probably be cursed with the same terrible coping mechanism.”

  A light rap at the door drew her attention back to the portal, Diana’s face peeking in. “Oh, good,” she began, “I didn’t want to interrupt Alpha’s newest citizen during his lunch or nap time.”

  “He finished a little bit ago, come on in.”

  Diana set a stack of papers on Terri’s already cluttered desk before walking over to smile at the baby. “Did you know we’re producing wine now?”

  “Huh?”

  “Yeah, I had no idea Texas had wineries, but we do. They�
�re just on the eastern edge of our territory, and joined our little coalition a few days ago.”

  Terri grinned, “I’ll have to sample some local vino once young Hunter here is eating solid food. Until then, it’s a no-go for me.”

  “Hey, I have a question that’s probably going to sound a little weird. When Hunter is hungry, does it bother you at all… having to expose your chest in public?”

  Terri grunted, “I’ve been exposing my boob in public for a long time… right now he’s on a mission someplace in Arkansas.”

  Diana laughed and then waved a finger in the air, “No fair picking on Bishop when he’s not here to defend himself. You’re bothered by his request for a dress, aren’t ya?”

  “No,” Terri replied, looking down at her post-partum figure. “I’m bothered by the size seven.”

  Both of the girls laughed at the remark, then moved toward Terri’s desk. Diana’s tone became serious, pointing at the stack of reports. “The latest attempt to get the natural gas electric plant up and running failed… again. Midland Station is complaining that they’re not receiving their fair share of lumber. Pete, as usual, wants to throw a party. Our treasurer is worried that the economy is growing so fast we’re going to run out of currency soon. And the best news yet… the telephone guys think they’ll have all of our towns connected via landline within two weeks. No word yet on the cell towers.”

  After finishing the data dump, Diana studied her friend. She could tell Terri’s mind was elsewhere, and she couldn’t blame her. “You’re worried about Bishop, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am… again. It’s okay though, he had to go do this. I just hope everything turns out as planned. I can’t picture my future as a single mom. I want his influence on Hunter.”

  “I agree,” Diana replied, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. “When you put the baby down, why don’t we get one of the ladies to watch him, and I’ll take you to lunch at Alpha’s newest bistro. It’s over on Walnut Street and is called ‘The Garden of Eden.’ I hear they have a chicken and pasta dish that’s to die for.”

  “Sounds great. And thanks, Diana. Thanks for trying to cheer me up.”

  “He’ll be fine, Terri. Bishop is just one of those guys you know is going to come back, no matter what.”

  Petit Jean State Park, Arkansas

  July 7, 2016

  Right on schedule, the static on Bishop’s radio was again interrupted with Hugh’s voice. This time Grim sat in the passenger seat as the plane flew low over the landing strip. This time Bishop and Deke mooned the plane.

  “I hope no one from the lodge was watching that,” Deke said as he buckled his belt. “They might wonder about your sexual practices.”

  “I think they already are as far as you’re concerned,” Bishop shot back.

  Hugh’s landing was a bit bumpy this time, but before long the aircraft rolled to a stop next to the hangar. Grim, smiling with relief at being back on solid ground, was greeted by his boss.

  “Welcome to Hairy Ass, Arkansas. I’m Glute,” he said and then pointed at Bishop, “and this is Max.”

  “I had to look twice before I realized you guys had your pants down. It was hard to tell the difference.” replied the new arrival.

  Bishop grunted, moving toward the cargo hold. “If you two are done with your juvenile shenanigans, we need to get this aircraft unloaded.”

  Laughing at Bishop’s sudden highbrow demeanor, Deke observed, “You had your pants down, too, brother.”

  “I thought it was some secret signal between you elite operators… like a cloak and dagger handshake or something.”

  Hugh joined in, helping carry a box into the storage area. “I got everything on your list, Bishop. A lady who owns a candle shop in Meraton provided the wax. The rest was easy. Nick raised hell over the extra 1,000 rounds of ammo, but other than that…”

  “And Terri found a little blue dress?”

  A pained looked flashed across the pilot’s face, his expression a mixture of not knowing how to respond and not wanting to. “Well… she did send something.”

  Bishop laughed, patting Hugh on the back. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. Here’s what you can tell her.” And then Bishop explained to Hugh and the rest of the team what the plan was.

  After he’d finished, Deke whistled. “Man. It sounds like the world has really gone to hell. But I like the plan. That might just work.”

  “We need to get my wife and kid out of that shit,” added Grim, his determination now stronger than ever.

  “We will, brother,” Deke reassured. “We will.”

  Hugh wished everyone good luck and a round of “See you back in Alpha soon,” and “Tell everyone we’ll be fine,” followed. The three contractors watched the pilot enter the plane, standing motionless until the craft was nothing but a speck in the western sky.

  “Let’s get at it,” Deke said. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  A series of debates ensued as the men prepared for the trip to Matt’s house. After Bishop had briefed Deke and Grim on what he had both seen and heard about Martinsville, everyone had a different opinion on what should be loaded in the truck and what should be left at the airfield to be retrieved later.

  The disagreement had centered on how much they could trust the park rangers and other residents of the area not to pilfer their stash while they were gone. One man argued they should pack heavy on firepower. Another maintained that in doing so a stray bullet from a hostile along the trip might mean the end of the mission – and their lives.

  “It’s a fucking time bomb,” Grim commented, looking at the collection of gasoline and ammunition. If somebody gets off a lucky shot and hits that load in the back of the truck, we could all become Airborne Rangers, blown sky high without a chute.”

  “But everyone at the lodge knows what we’re up to and why the plane kept coming back,” Bishop argued. “I’m normally a pretty trusting guy, but those folks are desperate. If we leave our supplies here, it might grow legs and walk off while we’re gone.”

  It was finally decided to load the truck, stacking the dangerous supplies in the middle and surrounding them with food, clothing and other essentials that would hopefully provide a shield.

  It was approaching dusk by the time the men had fueled the pickup and wedged in all of the supplies. A tarp covered the cargo, an effort to prevent prying eyes from viewing what essentially amounted to a king’s treasure to many of the people they would be passing by.

  Bishop, having the most experience operating a vehicle via night vision, was the designated driver, Deke and Grim riding in the back behind the cab. The truck was heavy in the rear, down on her shocks from the weight of the cargo. All of the men knew that wouldn’t be the case for long as consuming fuel and food would lighten the load as they progressed. They all hoped that the usage of ammunition wouldn’t contribute to the loss of weight.

  Dusk was painting the early evening sky as they approached the outskirts of town. During his earlier scouting trip, Bishop discovered a slightly different route that better accommodated a vehicle. Still, things appeared the same to Bishop until they entered what was essentially the main business district.

  The fire and smoke spitting from several trash barrels was the first hint of human occupation, the flickering light evident from a considerable distance through the NVD monocle. Deke, standing in the bed and scanning with his thermal unit reported at least three hotspots ahead. Noticing the aroma of burning wood when the breeze changed, and trio spotted the people congregated around the fires.

  Bishop could tell they were thin, even with the limited depth perception provided by the night vision. There was something about the way their clothes hung from their shoulders that gave a hobo-like impression, long before he could make out any details.

  Always thinking of security, his attention was drawn to the fact that none of the small groups of people carried any weapons – at least not long guns.

  “Stop here,” hissed Deke through the o
pen window. “Grim and I will dismount and investigate. There’s a bunch of debris and shit up in the roadway up there, so we can’t just blow through at high speed anyway.”

  “Losing a tire wouldn’t be good,” Bishop reiterated.

  Before he could let the truck roll to a stop, the two contractors hopped out of the bed, the boots making a solid thud on the pavement. Carrying weapons at low ready, they proceeded to walk in front of the truck, heads scanning right and left.

  The first group of residents were so stunned by the appearance of the men and truck, they didn’t move or say anything. Men with long beards, ragtag clothing and hollow eyes stood and stared as Bishop passed. He didn’t hear anyone utter a single word, just blank expressions and the slight movement of their heads as the truck passed.

  The second group of locals, having a longer field of view, had the time to gather their wits and react. One man took a step forward, raising his hand as if he wanted Bishop to stop. A small child scurried away as if instructed to hide by some guardian. Or to alert others, thought Bishop. I know drug dealers in the big cities use children as early warning devices… I wonder…

  Grim must have had the same thought. Bishop heard him hiss at Deke, “I think the advantage of surprise is no longer with us.”

  They traveled another block, two abandoned, burned out vehicles blocking portions of the road. At one point, Bishop had to drive up on the sidewalk to pass. Broken glass was strewn everywhere, some from windshields, some from store fronts. Trash, busted pieces of furniture and even a toilet seat littered the roadway. Travel was slow going.

  At first, Bishop thought the arrow was simply a stick someone had thrown at Grim. Bouncing harmlessly off the plates of his body armor, the operator froze momentarily, puzzled by what had just struck his chest. It wasn’t until he looked down at his feet that he realized someone had just shot at them.

  “Move!” Deke ordered, advancing in front of the truck at a trot. A moment later, Grim had caught up. Another arrow bounced off the truck, missing Bishop’s empty driver’s side window by less than a foot.