by Rounds, Mark
“General,” said Antonopoulos carefully. “Will you please step into the conference room?”
“Make sure that no one interrupts us,” said Antonopoulos to Sergeant Martin. “Unless it is absolutely critical.”
“Yes sir,” said a surprised Martin, who was still in the combat gear and battle dress he had put on thirty-six hours earlier. He had rearmed himself from the weapons dropped by the casualties, so he was packing an M870 and a bandolier of shells for it over one shoulder. He was tired and dirty with blood all over his uniform and looked as mean as a rattlesnake. Antonopoulos was pretty sure that everyone would think twice before asking him to open the door.
“Now look General,” said Bossell as soon as the door was closed, “I know I have an ass chewing coming but …”
“STOP!” said Antonopoulos forcefully ending Bossell’s litany of excuses before it started. “Our discussion here is purely fact finding as I am trying to decide whether or not to relieve you. Did you, or did you not, have from Captain Lassiter, a communication, properly authenticated in the presence of several Command Post controllers, wherein I ordered a dust off?”
“Well sir,” began Bossell, “There were some circumstances that you may not be aware …”
“General, that is a yes or no question!” said Antonopoulos heatedly. “Now I accept that I might be a little testy because I spent the night ducking infected, killing several at point blank range with a shotgun. I am also aware that I might be irritable because I haven’t slept for thirty-six hours. But I am absolutely furious over the fact that two US servicemen died while we were trying to extricate ourselves from the battle around Fairchild.
“Staff Sergeant Vincent McCoy, one of those fine examples of what every American fighting men should be, died of wounds that would have been survivable, had we been picked up when we called for a dust off. He selflessly told us to move out, even though he knew it would probably kill him.
“The other was an Airman First Class. Holly Henry was still on her first hitch. They didn’t give a damn about the political struggles you were about to mention or the poor morale or whatever else you think might have legitimatized your slow response. They stood up, leaned forward in the foxhole, and took it to the enemy. Now you were about to describe some circumstance that would justify your waiting four hours to launch a mission that had been pre-briefed before I left that morning. Tell me General, was it worth it?”
“No sir,” said General Bossell after a long pause, “it was not.”
There was another long pause and then General Bossell spoke again.
“Sir, I hereby tender my resignation,” said Bossell remorsefully. “I have let you, and more importantly Sergeant McCoy and Airman Henry down.”
“Not accepted, General,” said Antonopoulos sternly. “If you had continued to try to defend your actions, I would have relieved you on the spot, but, frankly, I need you. This Army vs. Navy vs. Air Force issue has gone on long enough. It’s clear from the report I had from Lassiter that you were trying to keep a lid on it. But it can’t continue if we want to do what we have sworn to do. We are still stuck with our peacetime reflexes about protecting turf and budget fights. It has to stop now. Our culture and perhaps our civilization is on a knife edge. We are all that stands between chaos and order, between tyranny and freedom. Will you help me?”
“Yes sir,” said Bossell intently, “yes sir, I will.”
July 11th, Saturday, 9:12 am PDT
Somewhere on Trunkey Road in Eastern WA
JD and his reduced patrol watered and fed the mounts and took some time to do some much needed weapons maintenance. When the horses were cared for they mounted up and headed west and then south following the smoke from the still smoldering bus that Sparky and company had torched earlier this morning.
“What are we looking for?” said Billie who had traded horses with another trooper who had been hurt by flying glass when the bus turned over. He was on the way home in Hunseid’s pickup truck.
“Anything out of the ordinary,” said JD. “We need to be on the watch for any Infected or one of the better armed parties. We are out here just to observe and report. No more fire fights.”
“I got that,” said Billie peering carefully at a partially collapsed grain elevator that was perhaps 150 yards distant. “Look over carefully at Fisher’s old elevator but don’t be obvious.”
JD removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his eyes and in doing so gave the old grain elevator a good hard look.
“That granary has been abandoned for years, right?” said JD laughing slightly. “Now you laugh at the joke I just told.”
Billie laughed like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard and then leaned over towards JD conspiratorially.
“Since before I was born,” said Billie, all business now. “And now I can see a couple of guys in military camouflage, lounging around outside smoking. Who still has smokes these days?”
JD laughed and then spoke quietly, “and behind them are a couple of rifle barrels pointing out of the tumbled down shack next to the elevator. Why don’t we start working our way across that wheatfield and then away? I think this is what we are looking for. It’s certainly out of the ordinary.”
As the started to turn away, a well-built man came out and slapped one of the smokers so hard that he fell to the ground. The other took his cue and hustled back into the grain elevator. Sporadic, but accurate rifle fire broke out from the granary and the shack next to it. One of JD’s squad members hunched over in the saddle but was still in control of the horse.
“Let’s skedaddle!” shouted JD as he spurred Stomper. The rest of the patrol needed no urging and they galloped across the wheat field, harassed by rifle fire.
Back at the granary, the well-built man, Sven, drew his pistol and shot the smoker that he couldn’t reach to slap and was hunting for the other when Nergüi stilled his hand.
“Put that one on point,” said Nergüi softly with resignation. “They know where we are now. Let’s move now and maybe we can get to that barn over there before they come back.”
“That must be three miles away!” shouted the remaining smoker. “We’ll never make it!”
“Then I suggest we all get out and run,” said Sven, “and I will shoot anyone who lags. Then I drag them along and beat them until they die in the comfort of the barn. Now get your gear and GO!”
Despite his advanced age, Nergüi kept up with the running mercenaries across the field and was one of the first into the shelter of the barn. As soon as he stopped panting for air, he grabbed for his phone.
“Macklin,” came the reply.
“We have been spotted,” said Nergüi. “The Infected will be moving in an hour. Be ready.”
“We are nearly in position now,” said Macklin. “We will be ready in an hour.”
“Move quickly,” said Nergüi. “I will be calling in other resources.”
“Sir, I would suggest you avoid Little Bear,” said Macklin. “As you know, he has been playing both sides.”
“You nitwit, I know that,” said Nergüi who broke the connection and began to call that very person.
July 11th, Saturday, 9:39 am PDT
Thornton WA
Dave called a halt as they got to the old Thornton highway and gathered his staff together. It included Police Sergeant Henry Burnside, Little Bear, LT. Devon Frost, who was commander the Army troops, Amber, and Chris.
“I think they got around us,” said Dave angrily. “I assumed they would still be trying to rescue Nergüi. But apparently not.”
“They still could be swinging wide to get to Nergüi,” said Chris as he surveyed the flat country, “Though they would have to go a long way around to do it.”
“Damn, I wish we had more air support!” said Dave pounding the hood of the Humvee. Then he looked around sheepishly and continued. “Alright, everybody get out and stretch your legs. I am calling higher for some direction. Gunners, you are on overwatch. We will get you relieved in time
for you to get some relief too.”
Little Bear, whose phone had been silently vibrating every two minutes for the last thirty was walking away casually. He needed to find a spot where he would be unobserved while he took this call.
Amber nudged Chris and nodded toward Little Bear’s receding back.
“He’s nervous,” said Amber.
“You think so?” said Chris sarcastically who had gathered up his 870 pump action shotgun and checked to make sure it was loaded.
“Yeah,” said Amber. “When we see where he is going, we ought to follow him, see what he is up to.”
“Sounds like you haven’t stopped being a cop yet,” quipped Chris as he watched Little Bear clear the corner.
“Just because you are paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t after you,” said Amber as she got up from her rather uncomfortable seat in the Humvee. As soon as Little Bear was completely out of sight, Chris and Amber walked quickly to the building. Dispatching Chris with a nod to go around the other side, Amber waited until he was in position, then she moved very quietly to where she could just see and hear Little Bear through a broken window.
“What makes you think I can pull your ass out this time, white man,” said Little Bear quietly into his cell phone.
“What you’re offering means you’re desperate,” said Little Bear after a pause.
“Fine! Call someone else,” said Little Bear still speaking quietly and gesturing.
“You know what I want,” said Little Bear after a much longer pause. “Make me an offer that has some teeth in it and we’ll talk.”
Little Bear broke the connection and looked up to see Chris’s shotgun pointed at his middle.
“What do you think you just heard, Johnny Law?” said Little Bear with his big revolver already out.
“Enough that we ought to go have a talk with Major Tippet,” said Chris, eyeing the .45 caliber revolver at Little Bear’s hip.
“I ain’t got time for that,” said Little Bear but whatever else he had to say was silenced and he looked confused. Then he slowly turned toward Amber.
“You are strong,” said Little Bear through gritted teeth.
“God, I hate doing this!” said Amber with real pain in her eyes. “It’s like pawing through someone else’s underwear drawer. So, listen carefully. We will go back and talk to Major Tippet. You are hiding something. You know darn well what I can and can’t do. I can feel your emotions, I know when you are hiding something and I am pretty sure I know when you are lying and right now, I know, you are very afraid, and you are hiding something.”
“Let’s go,” said Chris soothingly. “I’ve been a cop long enough to know that something isn’t right here, but it’s not what we think. Give it to us straight. You have helped us, we can help you.”
The three of them walked around the front of the building. Dave saw them coming and Chris’s shotgun, which was still pointed at Little Bear alarmed him. He hustled over to the trio as fast as his hip would allow.
“What’s going on here?” asked Dave quietly. He needn’t have bothered for everyone in their little detachment was now watching them.
“Little Bear was on the phone,” said Chris, “It sounded like he was cutting a deal.”
“With who?” asked Dave.
“Shit,” said Little Bear loudly, “Let’s post it on the internet why don’t we? Look, I’ll tell you and Amber and her puppy dog here, but no one else.”
“You are not in a place to make demands,” said Dave quietly.
“Shoot me then,” said Little Bear contemptuously.
The sneer on his face became a look of fear and then pain.
“God, I hate this!” said Amber loudly. “Talk, now, or it will get a lot worse.”
“I. Was. Talking. To. Nergüi,” said Little Bear slowly through gritted teeth.
“What was the deal?” said Dave nodding to Amber who released her hold a slightly on Little Bear’s mind.
“Nergüi is trapped somewhere close,” said Little Bear who shrugged now that the cat was out of the bag. “He wanted me to get him out.”
“Where is he?” asked Dave more urgently.
“He ain’t saying yet,” said Little Bear looking around at the troops who were ostentatiously going about their business but also listening to every word.
“Why did he call you?” asked Chris quietly.
“Listen, I told you before,” said Little Bear exasperatedly. “I’ve done things for Nergüi over the years in return for help with the Indian Movement. That’s how I get some of the intelligence I get for you. Nergüi feeds me information to give you, but the real stuff I get from whichever stooge he is using.”
“Who is the stooge this time?” asked Chris.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing Johnny Law,” said Little Bear contemptuously pointing a finger at Chris. “But you know who, if you think about it. It’s Macklin.”
“So, what did Nergüi offer you?” asked Dave.
“The usual,” said Little Bear after a quick glance at Amber who nodded. “Small arms, explosives, high tech surveillance gear.”
“Why weren’t you having any then,” asked Chris quietly.
“Two reasons,” said Little Bear holding up two fingers. “The first is that he wasn’t offering enough. He’d suspect something if I didn’t squeeze him until it hurt. Besides, you all know that I am in this first and foremost for the Indian Independence Movement. He has given us very little over the years because he was in the driver’s seat. I want to up the ante. Secondly, I do want that bastard to go down! He is going to have to expose a lot of his organization to get what I want and that will create an opportunity. But we are going to have to have some serious resources to bring him down.”
“Like what?” asked Dave.
“Amber is stronger than I thought possible,” said Little Bear shaking his head. “But she’ll get tired or distracted if we have to hold him for any length of time. We will need a helicopter to take him somewhere safe and some more muscle to take down his followers.”
“So, you were working both sides of the deal,” said Dave, it wasn’t a question.
“What if I was,” said Little Bear defiantly. “If I can’t take him down, I want to strengthen my cause. You’d do the same in my shoes”
“Maybe we can work this both ways,” said Dave with a wink.
“How?” asked Little Bear who was at least interested.
“You just keep working the deal,” said Dave. “Either way, if we work together, I can win. They bring in your goods and you work with me to put a tracer on Nergüi and/or whoever goes out with him. On the other hand, if you and I think we can take them, we take him. If you think we can’t make the op once it’s started, we fall back to plan B and put a tracer on him and use the intel to crack this later. The one thing that we have to do is trust each other. You tell me everything and we play this your way. You play both sides against the middle and you will be locked up long enough that even you will start to get old. Do you agree?”
“I’m in,” said Little Bear resignedly.
Dave looked over at Amber who nodded.
“Alright then,” said Dave, “here is how we will take down Nergüi …”
July 11th, Saturday, 10:21 am PDT
A cave near Cardwell MT
“Little Bear has informed me that they have a plan to capture Nergüi,” said Zhao.
“Can they succeed?” asked the old blued man.
“It’s risky,” said Zhao. “But Nergüi is desperate and he might rush things. He will potentially make mistakes. We need to be ready.”
“What do you suggest we do?” asked the old man.
“We need to move, so we can be in position to help,” said Zhao.
“We have no transport!” said the old man. “I am hardly fit enough to walk there!”
“We will start on foot,” said Zhao more calmly. “I have called in favors. If things work well, we should have a vehicle before nightfall.”
“Because this might fail,” said Zhao, “and this is a fine hiding place.”
“You have not thrown caution completely to the winds then,” said the old man who was now smiling.
July 11th, Saturday, 10:54 am PDT
The Commons Building, University of Idaho, Moscow ID
“No sir,” said Chad as he spoke into the sat phone. “We don’t have a good location on Nergüi. We are still pretty sure he in in the triangle bounded by St. John on the west, Thornton in the north and Steptoe on the south. Going further south isn’t an option as the Snake River has only three or four good crossing points. It won’t take much to put the nearer two under guard if you could put a drone or something on the crossing at Peyton that would sew him up tight. He must either go north or west as we have shut down his attempts to go east.”
“What do you think he is going to do, Captain?” said Lassiter.
“Sir, going north will get him back towards his strength,” said Chad. “He will do that if he thinks he can’t accomplish his mission. I think he will go west. He has to know we don’t have much out that way. The BACA posts are not large and south of you, there isn’t much. I also can’t rule out some sort of extraction by air. We have …”
Chad was interrupted by JD bursting into his office. He smelled of horse and sweat and had two days trail grunge on his clothes.
“Sir,” said JD panting, “I think I know where Nergüi is!”
“Sit, Sergeant,” said Chad pointing to a chair. “I am on the sat phone with Captain Lassiter, our boss. Tell me what you have. I’ll put the Captain on the speaker phone so he can get this too.”
“Sir,” said JD as he gathered his wits. “We spotted a group of well-armed, uniformed personnel hanging around an abandoned grain bin. There hasn’t been any grain in it since I was a boy and the roof is mostly gone. When we started to get close, they opened up on us. We skedaddled and made for a shelter belt. One of my troopers took a hit but we kept riding to cover. There, I got off and watched them from a distance using my binoculars. They waited until they thought we were gone, and then they hightailed across a grain field to Swenson’s old barn where they forted up. I hustled back here as soon as I could with the word.”