Military Fiction: THE MAC WALKER COLLECTION: A special ops military fiction collection...

by D. W. Ulsterman

  “The cave – I haven’t seen it yet.”

  “Oh, you will. Unfortunately, I think none of us will have a choice in the matter. We’ll all be hanging out there soon. You’ll see it, Mr. Neeson, you’ll see where the largest portion of the Old Man’s fortune went. Money well spent if you ask me – very well spent.”

  And with that final comment, Dr. Lester Miller disappeared behind a row of trees heading in the direction of the operations center as I made my own way along the remaining distance to Freedom Tavern, just hours ahead of the last scheduled community celebration ever to be held in Dominatus, Alaska.

  The thunder’s arrival was quickening…

  XV.

  As I opened the door to Freedom Tavern I was greeted with Mac looking up and smiling broadly at me from behind the bar.

  “Well, well, you got to stay at the Old Man’s cabin overnight, eh? Now tell me, son, was that his idea, or his daughter’s idea?”

  I ignored the question as I sat on one of Mac’s barstools, noting a woman who appeared in her 50’s, sitting by herself at the far end of the bar nearest the hallway to Mac’s office with a cup of Mac’s home brewed coffee in front of her.

  Mac poured my own cup of coffee as he caught me looking at the woman, nodding his head in her direction.

  “That’s my friend Lucille…Lucille Wagner. She’s been up here at Dominatus almost as long as I have. Ain’t that right, Lucille?”

  Lucille made her way toward both of us, sitting down on the stool to my right holding her coffee in her hand. Her hair looked to be a blonde-gray, cut shoulder length. Her narrow face held sharp features, a slightly Roman looking nose, thin lips, and a strong jaw. Her eyes were a very deep blue, greeting me warmly. She extended her hand to firmly shake my own.

  “Nice to meet you, Reese, Mac has already been telling me a little about you. Heard you were around for the excitement with the authorities the other day, government bastards got nothing better to do than mess with people who are just trying to get by without them.”

  I returned Lucille’s greeting, followed by a drink of coffee. Lucille in turn was looking back at Mac with the kind of warmth that suggested they were more than simply friends. Mac, possibly sensing my thoughts, continued in his introductions.

  “Lucille came to us from…just down the road. Juneau. What was that…sixteen years ago?”

  “Seventeen, Mac…you’re slipping.”

  Lucille turned back to me and smiled, revealing strong white teeth – a smile that softened her appearance considerably.

  “So you get to see one of Mac’s little Saturday afternoon events huh? Normally there’s only about ten or so of us who hang out, a little drink and food and dance, but I hear tonight there is going to be a whole lot more. You’re something of a local celebrity around here, Reese. I think Mac has a big party on his hands today. You think he’s up for it?”

  Lucille winked as she spoke her question, the both of us then turning back to Mac.

  “So is this pick on Mac day? Is that what we have going on here? Well you two can put yourself to some better use and set out some more chairs…see if we can make room enough for fifty or so.”

  Lucille gently slapped the top of Mac’s hand before giving it a quick squeeze.

  “You are turning into a mean old fart, Mackenzie Walker, downright rude in your old age.”

  As Lucille and I organized the seating inside the tavern, Mac set out dishes and glasses along the top of the bar before making the short walk to his jukebox and turning it on, singing along to the music with a surprisingly strong voice after yelling out the song’s title.

  “You ever heard of Travis Tritt there, Reese? This one’s called A Great Day to be Alive!” And that is what today is – a great day to be alive!”

  Lucille, helping me to move a table against one of the tavern’s walls, glanced over at Mac as he was singing and gave her head a slight shake.

  “Mmmm, that man…all kinds of sexy.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at her admiration of Mac, Lucille returning my laughter with some of her own.

  “At my age you don’t waste time not saying what you feel. And Mac, from the moment I saw him all those years ago…that man just flat out does it for me.”

  Lucille shouted across the room.

  “Hey, Mac! You going to play something for us tonight? Break out the guitar?”

  “Just gonna have to wait and see, darling. Thought I already gave you a performance already?”

  Lucille’s eyebrows shot up as her face expressed pretend shock.

  “Mackenzie Walker, now you’re just a dirty old man. Shame on you!”

  Now it was Mac’s own laughter that filled the interior of his Freedom Tavern, interrupted only by the sound of thunder from approaching storm outside.

  The door to the tavern opened and Keith stepped in, quickly closing the door behind him. He nodded briefly to Lucille and I before walking over to where Mac stood behind the bar. The two of them then disappeared down the hall to Mac’s office.

  Genuine concern spread across Lucille’s face.

  “Mac has Keith watching the road up here, it’s been awfully quiet since him and that compliance officer or whoever they were, tangled outside. Hope the Old Man can keep those assholes away from us, but…Mac thinks there is going to be some kind of conflict sooner rather than later and he’s a whole lot more worried about that then he is letting on. Not worried about himself, but the rest of us. He seems to think he’s the one responsible for keeping us all safe and for the first time since I’ve known him, he doesn’t seem so sure he can.”

  Lucille’s eyes looked toward Mac’s office, her voice lowering as she continued.

  “Don’t tell him I said that, but I know it’s weighing on him. He’s the strongest man I’ve ever known, but none of us are getting any younger, and that little fight of his left him in a lot more pain than he’s letting on. Most of us up here accepted the idea that someday the New United Nations would shut us down, drive us away…or worse. Mac is only one man, he can’t be held responsible for trying to stop something like that. Not him, not the Old Man. We’ve had a lot of good years up here, better than anyone living in the Lower 48, so if it’s coming to an end and they try to take this away from us, well…no sense worrying over something that’s out of our control. We’ll fight as best we can, hold out for as long as we can, and then from it’s always in God’s hands.”

  Keith and Mac’s footsteps could be heard returning from the office. As both entered the tavern’s main room, Keith quickly made his way to the door and back outside. Lucille looked over at Mac.

  “Trouble?”

  Mac shrugged.

  “Nothing we weren’t expecting. There was another drone fly over this morning, and word from the reservation that they are expecting a group of government officials to be stopping in later tonight or tomorrow morning. The contact for that group was Hess.”

  “The one you just tangled with?”

  “Yeah – the one I tangled with, all the precautions have been taken. The cave is ready. So at this point, I just want to have some fun this afternoon. Goddamn, I’m tired. I need a break from this shit. Just a little time for some good food, good company because this old body of mine needs a break.”

  The door opened again and the imposing form of Bear filled doorway, followed by an attractive blonde woman in her 30’s who was carrying a plate of pastries, and two children – a boy of about eight, and a girl who no older than five.

  Mac shouted a greeting to the new arrivals.

  “It’s the Tedlow clan! And looks like Clancy brought her pastries!”

  Lucille hugged both Bear and his wife, and then their two kids.

  “Reese, this is Walter and Clancy Tedlow and their two kids Jake and Jeanie.”

  Bear gave me a partial nod of his massive head.

  “We met.”

  Clancy Tedlow was a much warmer presence than her husband, offering me a broad smile as she shook my hand.
<
br />   “Nice to see you in person, Mr. Neeson, I’ve been listening to your program for the last few years. I’m a big supporter of your message.”

  Within the next thirty minutes, another fifty or so residents of Dominatus entered Freedom Tavern, each group of guests bringing more food, drink, and a great deal more conversation. Some of the faces I recognized from the earlier meeting at the operations center, while others were entirely new to me. Mac’s jukebox was playing song after song, and as the beer was poured, the mood of the room became one of celebration.

  When the entrance door opened again to reveal Dublin and her grandfather, a collective shout of greeting was issued to the both of them. Dublin laughed, hugging the Old Man tightly next to her, as he smiled almost sheepishly, indicating perhaps a touch of embarrassment at the attention given to his arrival. Dublin had bundled him up inside several layers of clothes, and as she now removed much of those layers, I was reminded again of how small and frail Alexander Meyer was.

  People moved forward slowly but deliberately to gently shake the Old Man’s hand, and each time he returned their greeting with a smile and nod of his head. Mac came up to me and nodded toward the procession of people.

  “He hasn’t been to one of these get-togethers in a while. We all realize he may not make another one, so everyone is hoping to let him know just how much he has meant to us all these years. That little man there, I owe him. I owe him my life.”

  Mac turned away from me as I sensed his struggle to maintain control over his emotions. It startled me just a bit to know a man who had seen so much death, so much pain, was so affected by his friendship with Alexander Meyer. It was the kind of friendship people experienced less and less of in a world now dominated by the New United Nations mandates.

  Finally, having shaken the hands of almost every person in the room, the Old Man slowly made his way to where I sat at the bar. I had to lean into him to hear him speak, his soft voice straining to be heard over the music.

  “Good to see you again, Mr. Neeson. I am so very happy you were able to see one of our gatherings here at Mac’s wonderful Freedom Tavern. And thank you again for your company at my humble home.”

  The Old Man then shuffled to Mac’s bar and lightly tapped the top of it with a slightly shaking hand.

  “Pour me a bit of that home brewed devil’s water of yours barkeep! In fact, this round is on me!”

  The Old Man leaned over and whispered to me as cheers rose up around us.

  “Always wanted to say that.”

  Dr. Miller appeared next to Dublin and her grandfather and gave both of them a mildly disapproving look.

  “I see my recommendations for staying indoors fell on deaf ears…again.”

  Dublin shrugged as the Old Man waved away the doctor’s concerns.

  “I don’t intend to spend my days cooped up all day and night, doctor. No offense intended against your expert opinion of course!”

  Alexander Meyer’s eyes were lit up with more than a bit of mischief, and Dr. Miller could not help by smile as he too, like Dublin, simply shrugged.

  “Well then, let’s at least enjoy the food and drink huh? Hey Mac, how about a song or two for everybody?”

  Mac attempted to ignore the doctor’s request, but it was immediately followed up with support by the Old Man himself.

  “Yes Mac! Perhaps you could play that one from the Rolling Stones you do so well. The…the Wild Horses one. I haven’t heard you sing that for, well it’s been years now.”

  Mac’s eyes looked to the ceiling as he pretended to be troubled by the suggestion he sing.

  “Oh Christ, I haven’t been practicing. Nobody wants to hear this old boy singing.”

  Lucille was having none of it.

  “Bullshit Mac! Now you give these people what they want! Go on now, you big show off! You know you’ve been wanting to sing for them!”

  Everyone inside the tavern began to chant Mac’s name in unison.

  “Mac! Mac! Mac!”

  Finally accepting the demands of his own audience, Mac produced a battered acoustic guitar from behind the bar and began to tune it, shaking his head as he did so while the chanting of his name was replaced by cheers.

  Mac placed a bar stool against the wall facing the dance area, and plugged in a single microphone connected to small speaker. He gave his guitar a few strums and then looked out at the faces of all those now looking back at him before slowly placing a cowboy hat atop his head – a signal he was now prepared to sing.

  “As you all know, we owe our way of life up here to that man over there, Mr. Meyer. We all call him the Old Man, with great affection. He created this place for us to come and live out these years free from…from the goddamn tyranny of the New United Nations mandates. It is my honor and privilege to take his request for this song, he has told me before how much he loved this band when he was a younger man. Doesn’t exactly fit the Wall Street image, but he just flat out loves this song. So I’ll try and do it some justice, for him and for all of you. It’s a song by the way that the mandates banned nearly twenty years ago along with most other decent music. But here in Dominatus, we say to hell with the mandates now don’t we?”

  Freedom Tavern let out a roar of approval and then quickly grew quiet as Mac began the song, both his guitar and voice filling the room. Dublin took the shaking hand of her grandfather and guided him to the dance area, where she slowly danced with him, as he whispered something into her ear. Dublin smiled at the words, hugging the Old Man closer to her.

  As before, the quality of Mac’s voice surprised me. So too did his ability on the guitar. Again I caught Lucille staring over at Mac, her devotion to him even more apparent. Other couples were now joining Dublin and her grandfather on the dance floor, moving together slowly to the long-ago narrative of a band that at one time, represented an era of rebellion against authority, an act of rebellion that was now, so many years later, represented yet again in Dominatus, Alaska.

  XVI.

  Before Mac was able to complete his song, and Dublin and her grandfather their dance, Freedom Tavern’s door swung open, as the tall, bearded form of Afrim entered, accompanied by the sound of hard rainfall from outside. The storm had arrived. Afrim appeared out of breath, his eyes searching the room before finally locating Mac.

  “Mac, we have no more than thirty minutes before they arrive. There’s at least four vehicles. Big vehicles. Transport. Possibly more. Another surveillance drone flew over us about ten minutes ago. We have a real situation here.”

  Mac put his guitar down and removed the cowboy hat as all eyes in the room turned to him, including my own. When his response came, it was calm, measured, and reassuring.

  “Ok, everyone, we have done the drills on this exact scenario over and over. Everyone here knows exactly how to proceed. We will meet up at the operation center in ten minutes, and then proceed to the cave. Limit your personal items…everything else you will need is provided at the cave. Afrim, who is manning the trail station?”

  “Bill…Bill Crup.”

  I recalled the name from just a few days earlier during the meeting at the operations center - the accountant holding the rifle outside the center’s entrance.

  “Afrim, I want you to tell Bill he has the go ahead to light them up. As many of those transport vehicles as he can…and then tell him to make his way back to the cave as quickly as possible. I want you to position yourself between the trail station and here…if any of them get through…hold them up. Buy us a little more time, and then we’ll see you back at the cave too.”

  Afrim paused for a moment to digest what Mac had just told him, sensing the order to allow Bill and him to fire away at the New United Nations transport vehicles would place Dominatus into open conflict with the authorities. From here there was no longer hope of turning back. They would be at war.

  Afrim turned to step outside when the sound of a military chopper broke over the trees that surrounded Freedom Tavern. Mac’s voice broke over the noise to remi
nd Afrim of his orders.

  “Afrim! Get on that trail! Relay the order to Bill…light them up! Go! Now!”

  Afrim sprinted outside and into the tree line, disappearing from view within seconds of his departure as the chopper began to descend directly in front of Freedom Tavern, its massive blades pushing up the remaining snow cover from the ground. Clancy Tedlow hugged her children close to her as they began to cry, the massive frame of their father Bear standing between them and the entrance to the tavern.

  Mac placed himself directly in front of the door, his demeanor remaining calm, his eyes betraying no emotion - the killing machine re-awakened.

  “All of you, follow my lead. This is my operation now…I ain’t gonna let them hurt you. At least not without paying a price. I need all of you to trust me here…remain calm. I’m going to get us out of here and to the cave…I promise you all that.”