by Dave Balcom
“That’s okay,” I said, realizing that my not knowing Jan’s fate was keeping everyone from really celebrating the good news about Marie. I raised my hands to get everyone’s attention: “Folks, in a deal like this, I think we take heart with the good news we get. Please don’t let concern for Jan or me get in the way. I have faith that Jan would do whatever it would take to get back to me, and I’ll live with the results whatever they might be.”
Cindy cleared her throat, “We’ll hold off the real celebration until we know the whole story, right?” She was looking from face to face at her siblings.
“Right!” Crawford seconded.
“Right!” All of the voices, even the children’s, were raised as one.
Chapter 52
Just before four in the afternoon, I heard a car pull into the driveway. Even though we’d opened the blinds and storm doors, I still went to a window and checked on the arrival.
It was Chance with the family; and right behind his cruiser were Richards and Hurst in their government ride.
When Marie hit the door, she plunged herself into the rest of the family who had gathered in the kitchen. They mobbed her and she was shrieking in joy.
Richards and Hurst shuffled around the mob scene until Archie caught my eye and nodded in the direction of Ed’s office. I met them there, bracing myself.
“Jim,” Richards started, “I don’t have anything definite to report on Jan’s whereabouts. She was not being kept with Marie, and Marie never saw her or heard of her while she was being held.
“But that doesn’t mean as much as it could,” Hurst interjected. “The Flynts live in a colony almost. It’s about eight miles north and west of here, almost in Iowa, I’d bet. In a little valley carved by the glaciers, there must be thirty homes there, and all of them have outbuildings, and by the time we left with Marie the agents we took in there had already found four caves that were serving not only as fruit cellars, but also as weapons caches.
“She could be somewhere in that compound and it might take us a day or two to find her.”
“What are we dealing with here, a militia kinda thing?” I asked.
“I don’t really know,” Richards said, taking a chair. “There’s a paramilitary air to some parts of it, but mostly it’s like a clannish thing with about five generations living a communal existence.”
“So what was this all about?”
“We just don’t know yet, Jim. We’ve only interviewed maybe twenty people so far, and our people think that none of those we’ve interviewed were really involved. The prevailing line on Marie was that she was a ‘house guest’ of a young girl in Marie’s grade. That child was there, but her parents had not been identified yet.
“You know, it’s eerie, but not one person out there would tell us any other person’s given name. We ended up printing all of them, and placing a cordon around the scene until more help arrives.”
I sat there and felt despair seep into me. I hadn’t experienced such a sensation since the death of my first wife; I had nearly forgotten it entirely, but I didn’t doubt for a second that the feeling that had displaced the butterflies in my belly was just plain despair.
Hurst must have read me in a quick take; “Don’t get too down, Jim. I don’t think we’ve scratched the surface yet.”
“Can I help? I have some skills at interviewing.”
“Not a chance, pardner,” Richards said immediately. “If you were an agent of long standing whose wife was a hostage we wouldn’t let you anywhere near those people. You’re just going to be patient and wait. Got it?”
I didn’t respond.
Hurst reached over and squeezed me just above my knee. “Trust us; we’re doing everything we can.”
There was still a very subdued air surrounding the celebration of Marie’s return, but it was just as obvious that it was in fact a family celebration going on when we emerged from Ed’s office.
The two agents excused themselves and went to their car. Sheriff Chance had left some time ago.
I tried to keep a smile on my face and appreciate the spectacle of relief that was this family’s due. I bided my time.
Chapter 53
The phone rang just after 9 p.m. It was the night of the summer solstice, and despite the hour it was still lighter than usual out. Gene was closest to it, so he answered. He listened for a moment, then said, “Hold on.” And then, so everyone could hear, “Where’s Ed?”
“I’m out here,” Ed said from the porch.
“Telephone!”
Ed came into the kitchen, and took the phone from Gene with a nod. “Ed here.”
He listened, and later everyone talked about watching the color drain from his face. Then he stood there silent, listening. Finally I came over to him, and put my hand on his elbow. He turned and looked at me. After a few seconds he handed me the phone. I put it to my ear and heard only a dial tone which suddenly quit and I realized, without knowing why, that the line had been cut.
Then a bullet came through the plate glass windows that made up the enclosed porch.
“Down!” I screamed. “Turn out those lights!”
I threw the phone away and rushed to the light switches near the mud room door, but before I got there all the lights in the building went off, and I knew someone had cut the connection to the house even as I heard bullet after bullet start ripping through windows in the building.
The lights were out and women were crying and screaming from the porch and the living room. I hurried out to the porch keeping as low as I could, and started grabbing people and pushing them into the house, urging them without yelling. “Get to the basement! Stay down low, but scurry! Scurry to the basement.”
After I knew the porch was empty I made my way back to the living room and found Crawford laying on the floor, wounded. He was alive and aware.
“Where are you hit?”
“Left hip, I think; that’s where the pain is, but it’s not as bad as I would have expected.”
“Can you move?”
“I don’t think I can walk.”
I grabbed his collar, “Hold on, I’ve gotta get you out of the line of fire.”
“I have a gun in my hand. Leave me here.”
I stopped. The barrage of rifle fire that had ripped through the house was now down to a sporadic shot every few seconds or so. “Is anyone else in this room hit?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I heard Ed herding people downstairs where most of the kids were. I think the main target was Ed’s office. I don’t know who was in there.”
I reached up on a couch and pulled a throw down to the floor. I crawled around the wounded man and found his bloody hip, and realized it was a butt cheek. Blood seemed to be oozing from a wound. I rolled him over and found an exit wound on the other cheek. I stuffed an end of the throw into the exit wound and rolled his weight over on top of that.
“Here,” I said, taking his hand. “Put this right here,” and I stuffed the throw into his hand and pressed it on the entry wound. “I don’t think this is all that bad, just keep pressure on it.”
I scurried into the hall, making my way to Ed’s office. I stopped at the door, “Folks? It’s Jim. Anybody in here?”
“We’re all right,” I heard Matt’s voice from the area around the desk. “Mom?”
“I’m right here. Liz and Edward and Janine and Sylvia are right here too. None of us is hurt.”
“That’s right; we’re okay,” another female voice whispered.
I leaned against a wall and fished my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed nine-eleven. I identified myself, reported the attack on the Sweet house, and gave the address. I suggested they contact Sheriff Chance right after they sent all available police and medical assistance in our direction.
“Will you remain on the line, sir?”
“I’m sorry; I have to make another call. Hurry, the shooting has almost stopped; that could mean they’re coming into the building. We’re all armed here so the respon
ders need to identify themselves carefully when they arrive. It’s getting darker by the minute, so they’ll need to shine their flashlight on themselves to avoid being shot. You got that?”
“Yessir, but I need you to...”
I disconnected and punched Richards’ number in my directory.
“Richards.”
“Archie; Jim Stanton here. The Sweet Home has been attacked by rifle fire. We’ve got one down that I know of, the place is dark and I’m sure the house phones have been cut. Rifle fire has diminished... Archie? Archie?”
I realized he’d hung up on me, and that meant he was on his way.
“Matt?”
“Yeah.”
“Get these folks behind you and the desk. Sit tight but be ready. Anybody who won’t identify themselves as police or FBI? Shoot ’em.”
“Got it.”
I scurried back to the living room. “Crawford? You okay?”
“I am,” he answered through gritted teeth. “It hurts like hell, but I just figured out that I’ve been shot in the ass. How embarrassing.”
“There’s no justice, right? I’m going downstairs. If anybody comes in here from the porch, if they don’t identify themselves as police and come in with their hands up and lights shined on their faces? You shoot ’em, okay?
“With pleasure.”
I hurried to the stairs and then near the bottom, called out, “Ed? Riley? Cindy? It’s me, Jim. I’m coming into the rec room. Try not to shoot me, okay?”
“Come on in,” Ed said.
“Anybody hit down here?”
“Nobody,” Riley said.
“Where are the kids and the girls?”
“In the safe room,” Ed said. “Cindy’s in there and has her Colt too.”
“Just you and Riley here?”
“We’re enough to keep those safe, and that room is basically a gun vault; concrete walls and steel door; remember?”
“You got an emergency generator on standby?”
“Yeah, and it should be kicking in any minute unless they sabotaged it.”
“Where’s the unit?”
“Garage.”
At that moment the lights flickered and then lighted up the basement. I watched as Riley unfolded himself from behind a couch in the left corner; Ed came up out of the bar on the right side.
“Let’s start turning out some lights,” I said.
I took a deep breath and then we heard gunfire from upstairs. “That’s Matt!” Ed hissed. We bolted up the stairs into the kitchen, and I saw two men on the porch carrying long guns. I saw the two on the porch take note of us as I hip-checked Ed sideways out of the line of fire. I went to a knee and, holding the Beretta Nine Mil in both hands, fired a double-tap into each man; both went down immediately.
“Hey,” Ed grumbled, “I’m on your side; you know?”
I ignored him and started looking for more targets. I shuffled forward a few steps and Riley darted behind me and around the kitchen island headed for the office. At the hallway he skidded to a stop, dropped to his right knee and brought his weapon to bear on a target down the hall.
“Freeze!” Riley barked. “Move and I’ll sh...!” His gun interrupted him, and he quickly followed that shot with two more, then he was up and advancing. “Matt! Matt, are you okay?”
“Watch the window!”
Another series of gunshots rang out and I heard the bullets hitting the wall of the hallway where Riley had been headed.
“Riley!” I heard Liz or Janine scream.
“I’m okay!” Riley said from the hallway. “Went over my head.”
I went back out the mudroom to the garage, and opened the door slowly, thinking I could work my way out of the garage and come up outside the office on the shooter who had missed Riley.
I punched the garage door openers in unison, and as the doors rattled open, I became aware of police sirens ripping through the night, and then I could see the rotating beacons blazing up the street. I just sat down on the stairs leading up to the house from the garage and waited.
Chapter 54
The silence was almost immediate. The rotating beacons lit up the night, but the sirens stopped and silence swallowed up the echoes of gunfire.
I watched as Sheriff Chance climbed out of his cruiser, weapon in his hand. A deputy behind him with a shotgun was walking nearly backwards as they made their way towards the open garage doors.
“Your weapon, Jim?” He asked.
I shook my head. “One of Ed’s. I’m licensed to carry in Oregon, but I left it home.”
The deputy extended a plastic evidence bag. I dropped the weapon into it. “I hope I don’t wish later that I’d kept that.”
Chance snorted. “I think you should walk ahead of me back into the house. Let’s see what we need in terms of medical attention.
“We’ve got one wounded; and we hit some of them.”
He let a sigh escape before he spoke into the microphone snapped to his collar, “Send the EMTs in through the garage, right now!”
We walked from room to room; each time I called out before entering, “It’s okay! Police and EMTs are here; guns down, now!”
When we got to the gun room, Cindy wouldn’t open the door. “Cindy?”
“Jim?” Her voice came from a speaker above the suspended ceiling.
“Come on, open up; everything’s under control. You’re safe.”
Silence.
Ed walked up and gently pushed me aside, “Dallas!”
The door popped open with the sound of locks disengaging, and Cindy bounced into her father’s arms.
“All-safe password?”
Cindy nodded, and then disengaged herself to help the little ones out into their grandpa’s waiting arms.
It was several hours before the wounded and dead were taken away; each of us had been interviewed at least once, even the kids. One by one we found our way to our beds, and finally it was only Ed and I sitting in the kitchen with Chance and the two FBI agents.
“Bill,” Ed started. “Hell, Bill, I just don’t know what to tell you folks any more. I recognized the voice on the phone, but for the life of me, I can’t put a name on it. It’s like something stuck in a back tooth; I worry it and worry it, but I just can’t pull out that name.”
Chance drained his ice water and put the glass on the counter. “Maybe you just need to sleep on it.”
“We all need sleep,” Richards said; “I don’t know about you two, but I’m certainly too old for this all-night shit.”
“We need our weapons back,” Ed said with some urgency. “You can’t leave armed guards on us forever…”
Chance put a hand on his arm, “I told the technicians that they had to process your weapons first; and as soon as they’re identified, logged, all that stuff to ensure they’ll survive as evidence, if needed, you’ll get ’em back, cleaned and ready.
“I expect they’ll be here by noon; until then you can rest assured that my men will protect you and yours.”
The sun was streaking the western sky as the officers left. Ed was upstairs and I sat in the dawn wondering what last night’s battle said about my chances for seeing my Jan again, and I again felt that strange dread that I called despair fill my heart with a heaviness I can’t describe.
“Oh, honey; hang in there,” I said to no one. I leaned back in a patio chair and felt a tear trickle down my cheek as I fell asleep.
Chapter 55
In the morning of the tenth day, as people started to appear in the kitchen, I made myself scarce by going for a walk. The routines of t’ai chi and the exertion of the exercise were working their magic on me when Sheriff Chance pulled alongside me in his county cruiser.
“Hey, sailor,” he said as I heard his window coming down. “I thought I might find you here. You’re getting a late start, though.”
I walked another twenty yards before I pulled up, “Good morning, Bill.”
“I don’t think it wise for you to be out here alone, and I really ca
n’t afford the time or resources to protect you.”
“You have some word on Jan?”
“Not a peep, but I do have some folks to talk to, and when you get showered and shaved and dressed I’d like you to come along.”
I was in his car before he finished the sentence.
I handed Chance off to Rita when we got to the house, and took myself to the basement where I put the shower to good use.
When I came upstairs I found Ed on the porch with Sam Trisker and Ron Flynt. Trisker was sitting on a wicker chair right in front of Ed; Flynt was walking around the porch looking at the bullet holes in all the windows and walls.
“Is the rest of the house like this?” He asked.
“Pretty much,” Ed said quietly. “We’re really lucky that Craw was the only one hit.”
“Any idea of how many rounds were fired?” Trisker asked.
“The crime scene guys went through the house in the wee hours, but I didn’t hear a report... from the looks of things we’ll use a lot of spackle to patch this place up.”
“Has Allison been out to take pictures for the insurance?” Trisker asked, while making a note in a notebook he had open on his knee.
“Not that I’ve seen. Sonny Smith and one of his reporters were out here before dawn; took a bunch of shots both inside and out for the newspaper.”
“How about I give Allison a call later and make sure he’s on the job,” Trisker was looking around with a face showing pure shock. “This is going to be some claim.”
“What’s it come under?” Flynt asked. “Act of God?”
“God was nowhere outside this house last night,” Ed said with some emotion. “Those bastards were willing to kill all of us, women, children... all of us. I hope the ones we got rot in Hell, and the ones arrested spend the rest of their worthless lives in a hole.”
“Why would anyone do this?” Trisker asked.
“It’s the Sweepstakes money, I guess...” Ed started to say, and then he noticed Trisker and Flynt were both looking at me.
“Oh, Jim. I’m glad you’re up and about. You remember these guys, right?”