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

by D. W. Ulsterman

  Mac leaned down and slowly reached his hand out to pat the dog’s head. Brando sniffed his hand briefly before giving it a lick.

  “Not too common a dog for Alaska. Short haired and all, must not handle the winter months too well.”

  Cooper smiled down at Brando.

  “Oh, he does all right. He prefers a good fire for sure, but if we have to be outside during a cold spell, he puts up with it. Seems to like you well enough, Mac.”

  Mac shook his head slightly.

  “Guess that makes him a piss-poor judge of character then.”

  Mac stood back up and looked from one end of the covered farmhouse porch to the other, before his eyes settled back onto the still seated Cooper Wyse.

  “So, we heading out first thing in the morning, I suppose? You told me you had all the supplies we would need for the trip. Mind if I confirm that about now? I like to be prepared.”

  Cooper stood up and pointed toward the large dilapidated barn that sat nearly a hundred yards from the ranch house. It had been painted red at one time, but only remnants of that paint remained. Most of the wood was fully exposed and weather aged a dull grey color.

  “Supplies are in the barn. Like I said, everything we’ll need. And then some. C’mon, let’s go take a look then.”

  The four Dominatus survivors followed behind Cooper Wyse as he made the walk to the barn structure with Brando following closely on Cooper’s right side. The barn’s entrance was a large wooden sliding door that had single metallic lock to keep it secured. Cooper removed a key from a coat pocket and turned the locking mechanism and then slid the door open. Inside were six stables likely used to house the horses during the cold Alaskan winter. A single light above the middle of those stables offered faint illumination. On both sides of the barn large bales of hay were stacked nearly to the ceiling some twenty feet above their heads.

  Mac turned to Cooper while pointing toward the six horse stables.

  “Which one is the access, Coop? One on the far right?

  Cooper Wyse’s eyes widened slightly at the question.

  “Access?”

  Mac gave a sly smile.

  “Yeah – c’mon now, did you think someone like me wouldn’t do their homework on you? That I’d spend all day making my way here without having some idea what you’re about?”

  Cooper remained silent, looking back at Mac without expression.

  Mac walked to the stable farthest to the right of the barn.

  “The wood is hardly worn. The straw on the ground is too uniform. Hasn’t been a horse in here for a long time. Look how the wall in the back, it’s slightly different color than the other stables’ back wall. Guessing it’s a bit more substantial than the other walls, right? And notice how that one light up above isn’t actually centered above the six stables – it’s right of center. You wanted more light on that particular stable.”

  Cooper Wyse again ran his fingers across the stubble on his face.

  “Well, Mac, I see you’re already living up to your reputation. C’mon then, let me show you what we got.”

  Dublin and Reese looked at one another, silently communicating their confusion over what was just said. Bear was focused on that sixth stable, trying to figure out what Mac was seeing that remained unknown to him. The three of them followed behind Mac, who in turn was following Cooper.

  Once inside the stable, Cooper Wyse brushed away some straw from the floor of the stable and then leaned down and pulled a barely noticeable rope that was colored to match the look of straw. Instantly a panel just large enough for a man to walk through opened up in the back wall.

  Mac turned to Bear, Reese, and Dublin, a wide smile breaking across his weathered face and extended his right hand toward the panel space.

  “And there you have it boys and girls. Now, Coop, you care to tell them what you’re all about? Seems to be a bit more than just raising some horses and hanging out with that dog.”

  Cooper Wyse stood back up and folded his arms across his chest as Brando took a position to Cooper’s right.

  “Sure thing, Mac…I’m among friends. Right?”

  Mac shrugged.

  “I’d like to think so, Coop.”

  Cooper removed his cowboy hat and held it in both hands in front of him as he gathered his thoughts.

  “This here ranch of mine has been an access point for the black market between Alaska and the provinces for…hell, been almost ten years now. Don’t do it for profit, do it to help people out. Get them supplies, medicines…things like that. Got a few paths in the hills behind here, take a horse and cross the border into Canada and then back again. Done it hundreds of times. Know the drone patterns, their surveillance cycles. Store it up in here and then bring it into the city where they get sent off to wherever. Guessing some of the stuff made its way to Dominatus from time to time. Yoti, your Eskimo friend, he made a few requests for things over the years.”

  Bear stepped forward, causing Brando to issue yet another low warning growl.

  “So, you’re a smuggler. Is that it?”

  Cooper placed his hat back atop his head, pulling the brim down so it rested just above his eyes.

  “Suppose that’s one way of putting it. Don’t much care what you call me. I know I’m helping people get things they need, or want, and that’s fine by me. Kept me occupied since my wife and kids, since they…since they were gone.”

  Mac tipped his head in the direction of the panel.

  “Can we see what you have in there? What we can take with us for the trip?”

  Cooper Wyse made his way to the panel and then disappeared into it, his voice following behind him.

  “C’mon then. Let me show you what we got.”

  The other four followed Cooper through the opening and then stood in complete darkness. The air was slightly cooler inside the dark space, and cleaner smelling than the musty hay and horse odors of the main barn area.

  Bear’s low voice grumbled for some light.

  “Can’t see a damn thing in front of me, Cooper.”

  Two loud hand claps followed Bear’s complaint, followed by three large lights instantly turning on above their heads.

  Mac gave Cooper Wyse a quizzical look, then glanced upward again at the now illuminated lights.

  “What the hell was that, Coop?”

  Cooper gave two more claps and room was again dark. Two more claps and the light returned.

  “Clap on. Clap off. My mom was crazy about this thing. Kept it in her room inside the house. She’d be in there laughing and clapping every night before bed. I wired it up for the lighting out here when I was completing the room.”

  The four Dominatus residents began to note all of the various supplies and materials that were neatly organized in the room. It was nearly twenty feet long and almost as wide, with a ceiling that appeared to be nearly ten feet high. The walls were painted a light silver color, and in the far right corner was a small air circulation unit.

  Cooper’s pride in his construction was noticeable as he began to tell them the history of the hidden room.

  “I made this place myself. The walls are fully insulated, got a temperature control unit over there that keeps the room sixty five degrees 24/7. Power comes from a battery bank I keep under the floor. That battery bank is powered by the solar panels I have across the barn’s roof. The New United Nations approves of solar power, but I use it to keep this room which I store all kinds of things outlawed by those bastards. Guns, ammunition, medicines, electronic devices, those little coal powered generator units I know you used up in Dominatus…all the things that people can’t get anymore unless they have someone like me to help them out.”

  Rows of rifles were neatly hung across the entire left wall, while individual boxes of various handguns were stored in a shelf just below that wall, and below that shelf was another shelf that contained boxes and boxes of corresponding ammunition. There were easily fifty different firearms in the room.

  On the floor were four bra
nd new coal generators as well as an entire oil extracting unit and next to that was a miniature refinery system capable of producing a hundred gallons of gasoline fuel per day. Reese spotted several handheld short wave transmission devices.

  “Those transmitters – that’s top of the line and their brand new. New production which hasn’t been allowed for years. How did you get those?”

  Cooper Wyse shrugged.

  “Figured you would like those, Reese. Thing is, there’s anything and everything out there somewhere. Just need to know how and where to look. The New United Nations has tried to wipe out the free market, but it hasn’t done it. Not yet.”

  Mac was looking over the guns on the walls when his attention was diverted to something on the floor just below those guns.

  “What the hell, Coop – is this what it looks like?”

  Without even looking to see what Mac was referring to Cooper replied.

  “Yup. Hardly used. The technology came all the way from Russia. They had a program for years developing it. Then it was defunded. At least that’s what they said. Made thousands of them which have been sold off over the years. I got that one there just a few months ago.”

  Mac looked to back to Cooper Wyse, his eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning.

  “May I?”

  Cooper nodded.

  Mac carefully picked up a small rifle-like weapon that hung by itself on a four foot high rack. It looked somewhat like a toy gun, with a rather clumsy box like device that was attached to the lower portion of the barrel.

  Mac let out a long slow whistle.

  “Heard about these things man, had to be about thirty years ago. Old Soviet technology. They were trying to keep up with our missile defense stuff. The Chinese did some work on this as well. A laser gun with a computerized scope. Accurate within an inch of the target up to a mile away. One clean little laser beam that can rip through a half inch of steel.”

  Mackenzie Walker looked over the laser rifle more closely, his fingers running along its smooth, dull black finish.

  “No serial number? Who made this? You said it was from Russia?”

  Cooper shook his head.

  “No, I said the technology was from Russia. That weapon there was made by a guy in Canada. Same one who made those short wave handhelds. Like I said, if enough people want something, someone else will find a way to provide it. Around here, I just happen to be that someone.”

  “Does it work?”

  Cooper appeared almost offended by Mac’s question.

  “Yeah, works just fine. Only holds eight shots per box though. The thing they are best for, so I’m told…is against the drones. They’ve been running a bunch of these down to the Texas Resistance. Government ain’t letting the people know, but the way I hear it, the Resistance has shot at least twenty drones down with those things.”

  Bear grunted dismissively.

  “Hell, Mac shot down that much himself up in Dominatus. Didn’t you, Mac?”

  Mac seemed lost inside the faint metallic glow of the laser gun.

  “Yeah, suppose I did.”

  Dublin had made her way to the back right corner of the room where a vast array of neatly labeled and boxed fruits and vegetable seeds were stacked. She leaned down to better read the labels.

  “There must be nearly a hundred different types of seeds here, and thousands and thousands of seeds. Why so many, Mr. Wyse?”

  “Call me Coop, everyone does. Lots of people out there wanting to start up their own food gardens. And after Alaska threw out the New United Nations, getting access to good quality seeds got a lot tougher. Government is closing down the food shipments, hoping they can starve the people back into compliance. So I’ve been doing my part to make sure that don’t happen. These packets are delivered all over the state. I heard you were something of a green thumb there, Dublin – that right?”

  Dublin stood back up and smiled at the compliment.

  “I enjoy it, getting them started, keeping them healthy, and then harvesting and sharing with others. I had a nice greenhouse in Dominatus - I miss it.”

  Reese interjected.

  “So, we leave tomorrow then? That’s the plan?”

  Mac looked up from the laser gun and nodded.

  “Yeah, that’s the plan. What time you want to head out, Coop?”

  “I’ve been tracking the surveillance drones carefully for months now. They go in ninety minute intervals around here, right over the hills behind us. That gives us a decent window to get across the border and well into Canada without them knowing.”

  Bear remained uncertain over the use of horses for the trip.

  “Now explain to me again why we aren’t just shooting across the border in a vehicle? Seems like we could make the trip a whole lot faster and to be honest, I haven’t done much horse riding.”

  Mac clapped Bear’s shoulder and laughed.

  “As big as you are, I feel more sorry for the horse!”

  Cooper Wyse ignored Mac’s joke and responded to Bear.

  “Like I said, anything mechanical sets off something in the drones’ surveillance system. Seen it happen more than enough to know we don’t want to risk it. I started out riding an old Yamaha 100 through a dried out riverbed to get across into Canada. Every time there’d be a drone making its way right for me within ten minutes and within another twenty minutes there’d be another two or three of those things circling the sky. First time I used a horse, nothing like that happened. Don’t know if it’s the sound, the exhaust emissions…whatever it is, it’s just not worth it. They’ll find us too fast, and we won’t make it. Best chance we got of getting across without them knowing it is on horseback, same way I’ve been doing it for the past several years.”

  Mac let out a series of sharp coughs, bending over slightly as he cleared his throat.

  “Sorry about that, think I might have a bit of hay fever or something.”

  Dublin looked over at Reese, her eyes communicating she thought something wasn’t quite right with her longtime family friend. Having spent so many years with her elderly grandfather before he finally passed, she knew the difference between a normal cough and one that hinted at something potentially more serious.

  Dublin began to make her way toward Mac but was waved off.

  “Said I’m fine, Dublin. Hoping to get something to eat in fact. Feels like dinner time to me. Hey now, Coop, how about it? You got some grub inside that place of yours?”

  Cooper Wyse’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked Mac over before answering.

  “Yeah, everyone follow me inside the house. Plenty of food and drink. Probably be a good idea to enjoy a real meal before we head out tomorrow morning. Might be the last one we get for a spell.”

  V.

  The interior of the Wyse home was far more luxurious and spacious than the outside indicated. The entrance hallway was covered with family photos, some of them clearly a hundred or more years old and each wall of the hallway offered two matching dark leather sofas. The home’s flooring was a richly textured hard wood, similar in color to the sofas. As the hallway opened to the main room of the house, a massive river rock fireplace extended itself upwards toward the cathedral ceiling.

  Like the hallway, the main room’s furnishings were of the same dark leather exterior, accompanied by end tables that appeared to have been formed from tree trunks, and a massive coffee table that closely resembled the river rock fireplace with the exception of its clear, one-inch thick glass top. At one end of this room there was a well appointed kitchen with matching stainless appliances, while the other end of the room gave a glimpse of a long hallway that likely led to the home’s bedrooms.

  Cooper’s home smelled of wood and leather, with just a hint of tobacco – a scent that managed to be both masculine and inviting.

  “So this is my family’s home. We’ve lived here for two generations. I was born in this house and God willing, I’ll die here too.”

  Reese, like the others, was impressed
.

  “Very nice home, Mr. Wyse. I assume your family built it themselves?”

  Cooper Wyse nodded.

  “Yes, my grandfather and grandmother did most of it. My dad did that fireplace and the flooring, and my wife, she uh…she updated the kitchen a couple years before…before Grant County. Before I lost her. Her and the kids. That’s them above the mantel.”