"I think I have her location. We will have to go on foot about six miles from the only place we can set this thing down and then anticipate where she will go come daylight. We need to find her before the hounds do. There are supposed to be three of them this time."
We landed in a clearing that Doc indicated to Lorne from the map. I gathered Lorne was flying using infrared for visibility because there were no lights lit on the chopper, not even the basic running lights. At least, that's what I thought the goggles were for.
Once we landed we got out and retrieved our gear. Lorne locked the chopper with a key fob that looked as though it went to a Buick.
"I think she will go down the small valley she is in now. She will know that is the way to civilization," Lorne said. "Our background check suggests she has few, if any, survival skills."
"I think you are underestimating her," I said. "I couldn't begin to take out one of those ground hound things with just a rock."
Lorne paused and thought for a few seconds. "You may be right, John," he said and set off down the trail.
There was just enough moonlight to see the trail ahead, although poorly. I wondered why we weren't using night vision, but I didn't say anything. These guys had probably not only checked the stage of the moon but the weather as well.
Daylight came late in the shallow valley. We found where she had spent the night under a rock overhang with a warm fire. Lorne looked at me and said, "John, that was a good call. It won't do to underestimate this one.” We followed her trail for a while. Lorne turned out to be a good tracker.
"I lost the trail," Lorne said. "We better split up and circle to see if we can pick it up again."
"No," I said while I was studying the terrain around me. "See that strip of bare rock. It is only on that side of the stream. I'll bet she backtracked on that rock and then followed as much bare rock as she could up to the top of that ridge. It would be faster traveling along the ridge, or just below it on the other side where she would be out of sight from this valley. I am willing to bet we will find her trail again just over that ridge from that rock outcropping. At least, that is what I would do, if I were in her place, and I am no woodsman either."
"Ok," Lorne said. "Lets hoof it up the hill and see if she left a trail there. We won't lose more than 20 minutes if she didn't, and we may gain as much as an hour if she did."
The trail was there. It was easy to follow, for Lorne anyway. I saw only the occasional footprint or scuff mark. Lorne started off along the trail at a fast trot. Doc and I followed.
Reston, Virginia
"We have her on satellite. Let the hounds know her position and direction of movement. I don't care how good they are at tracking. They need to intercept her as soon as possible. I don't want this to become an embarrassment to our agency."
"Yes Sir, Mr. Secretary," the shift manager said. "It is being done as we speak."
Colorado
The three hounds listened carefully as the voice in their earphones gave them instructions. It was obvious that they each were a little disappointed, but they knew better than to disobey orders. The lead hound started off, and the others followed. It would take them about two hours to intercept. They should have her by noon and maybe as soon as eleven.
We had been trotting down the ridge for about three and a half hours when Lorne stopped. Motioning for silence he stopped and pointed ahead. Far down the ridge a single figure was staggering along. There she was, and she looked exhausted. We had just started forward when I saw three figures appear about 200 yards behind her. I assumed they were the hounds. I knew we couldn't cover the distance before they could get to her so I raised my rifle to my shoulder, estimated the range to be just over 600 yards, and fired. Much to my surprise, the lead hound fell to the ground and didn't move. The girl stopped, looked back, and then tried to run faster.
The other two hounds ignored their fallen comrade and started after the girl at a run. Lorne took my Ranch Rifle from my hands and handed me the Garand. "The sights are at six come ups. Aim right on. Go prone."
I took the Garand and went prone. The sights were similar to my Ranch Rifle. I fired as soon as the rifle came to bear and that big old 30-06 slammed into my shoulder. The hound in the rear spun as his leg collapsed under him. I fired at the third hound as the second was falling and, even at that range, could see the splash of blood as the bullet struck the back of his head and blew his face off.
We approached carefully. The wounded hound had crawled a little ways and was sitting on the ground trying to stop the flow of blood from his thigh. From the extra bend in his wounded leg, I could tell that the bullet had shattered his femur. He barely looked up as we approached. Lorne fired one round from his pistol through the hound's head and the body collapsed on the ground.
We caught up with the girl, a thirty-something really, I thought. She tried to run from us, but collapsed after 20 yards. She had a rock in her hand and glared at us defiantly as we approached. Doc took the lead.
"Relax, Peggy," he said. "We are friends. We are here to help you."
"How do I know you are not from the government?” She asked. "How do you know my name if you aren't from the government?"
"We are part of a loose organization that is working to resist this unconstitutional government.” Doc said. "We found out about you from a mole we have placed in the government. You might be surprised to know how many government employees do not approve of what is going on."
"What is the name of your organization?” She asked.
"We don't have a name," Doc said. "Think of us kind of like the hacker group, Unknown."
"Don't come any closer," she warned, holding up her rock.
I put down my rifle, removed the pistol and knife from my belt, and placed them beside the rifle. I took a sandwich from my pack and then dropped the pack on the ground beside my weapons. Holding only the sandwich, I approached her as she held the rock ready to strike.
"How do I know you won't poison me?” She asked. Without a word, I took a big bite out of the sandwich, chewed and swallowed. Then, I handed the sandwich to her. She took it with one hand and looked for a few seconds into my eyes, and then she dropped the rock and, holding the sandwich with both hands, started eating. Doc tossed me another sandwich. When she finished the one I had given her, I held the other one out. She looked me straight in the eye, and didn't take the sandwich, so I took a bite out of that one too. After I swallowed, she took it and it was gone so fast I wasn't sure I had even given it to her.
Lorne also laid his weapons down and walked close to Peggy and me. "We need to move out now if we are going to get you to safety.” He looked at me. "John, can you carry her and keep a good pace?"
"Yes," I said. "I think so."
"Good," Lorne said. He went back and picked up both my rifle and his, and handed me my knife and pistol. I gave him back the knife. I removed the magazine from my pistol, ejected the chambered round, dropped it into my pocket, reinserted the magazine, and handed the pistol to Peggy.
"Can you hold onto this while I carry you piggy back and manage not to shoot anyone?
"Yes," she said.
"If we run into trouble just hand it back to me," I said.
"OK," she nodded.
I stooped down, and she climbed onto my back with the pistol tightly clasped in her right hand. Her finger was off the trigger just like I showed her. We started off with Doc in the lead. I was glad again that I was in pretty good shape, although after two more miles of travel down that ridge, I decided I was really in horrible shape. I ached all over, and I was limping badly. My right calf, where the bullet had passed through, felt as if someone had taken a giant pair of locking pliers and squeezed them tightly around my leg. In other words, cliché or not, it hurt like hell, but I refused to set Peggy down. We stopped once to rest and then cut straight across in the direction of the chopper. Doc was still leading the way with his GPS.
It took us another hour to get to the chopper. I was so stiff and so
re when we arrived that I could hardly even set Peggy down. The crease in my shoulder that Doc had sewn up felt like it had ripped open. A glance and the blood on my shirt suggested it had. The last half-mile had been sheer physical torture that I managed only by willpower, and by focusing on my rage against the government. I don't think Peggy was in any better shape than I was when we got to the chopper. Lorne and Doc were still hopping around like bunnies. I decided I needed to lose another 30 pounds, at least.
Lorne and Doc had to help Peggy into the chopper, and, much to my embarrassment, me as well. "Not bad for a big man," Lorne smiled at me. "Not bad at all."
I settled into the seat next to Peggy while Lorne fired up the chopper and Doc studied the instruments. When we were airborne, Peggy turned wearily to me and asked, "Are you ex-military, or something?"
"No," I replied. "I am just a retired professor.”
Peggy's eyes grew a little larger, and she said, "No shit? I am just a computer programmer.” Soon, she was asleep with her head on my shoulder. I was glad it was my left shoulder. I dozed off not long after.
Chapter 8: THE ORGANIZATION
"There are but few important events in the affairs of men brought about by their own choice.” Ulysses S. Grant
Colorado
This time the chopper landed at a small, out of the way airport. There was a car parked nearby. We got into the car, and Doc drove us out of there. We left the rifles and gear, except for the pistols, on the helicopter. After three changes of motor vehicles, and three changes of clothes, we ended up back at the jet. Lorne flew us back to Mississippi by way of California, North Dakota, and Indiana. I slept much of the way and so did Peggy. Once I awoke and noticed Doc was dozing in his seat. Lorne was alert as ever, even though the jet was on autopilot. That Lorne was impressive.
After we landed back at the ranch, Myrtle took charge of Peggy, and Doc showed me to a room in the basement. It was a nice room and had its own bathroom. There were new jeans and a couple of shirts on the bed. I cleaned up, changed clothes, and went in search of something to eat. When I found the kitchen, Myrtle was there happily cooking up a meal.
"Hi John," he said. "I heard you did some really fine shooting. Where did you learn to shoot like that?"
I sat down at the table and Myrtle quickly filled a plate and set it in front of me. Then, he sat down at the table too, "I am not really sure," I replied. "I have always been pretty good with BB-guns, bows and arrows, slingshots, and pretty much anything that shoots. My wife used to say it was because I worked the trajectories out in my head and then trusted my instincts. Even though my dad was a really good shot and liked to shoot and hunt a lot when I was growing up, I never fired a rifle until a few years ago. It just wasn't something that interested me—until now that is," I said thinking of what I wanted to do to Susan's murderers. "I guess it is just a natural talent."
I ate the food Myrtle put in front of me while he talked. I listened as best I could, but I was also wondering what had happened to the old me. The me I knew before would never have been able to eat after killing two people, and putting a bullet into a third, if that me would have even been capable of pulling the trigger. However, here I was, eating with a gusto I had seldom known before. "So, What can you tell me about you guys?” I asked while stuffing some of the best tasting chicken I had ever eaten into my mouth.
Myrtle smiled. I had noticed he liked to talk on the drive we took together, but he had told me nothing about the group. "Now, you take Toni," he said. "She lost her husband, her sister, and her niece to this government about a year ago. Her husband worked for one of the federal agencies in D.C. and found something out that shocked and disgusted him. Something to do with the use of drones, I think. He was going to blow the whistle and make it public, with Toni's encouragement. The government killed him, tried to kill her, and sent hounds after her sister and niece because they witnessed part of the attack. Toni managed to hide for 17 days before we found her. Now, she is one of us, just like you are," Myrtle laughed.
"So what is your story?” I asked.
"My story is neither tragic, nor complex. Lorne stopped in the diner once quite a few years ago and we got to talking. It turned out that we both felt the country was going in the wrong direction. After a couple of visits, Lorne recruited me—willingly, I might add. I am not high in the group, but there are a few things I do rather well.
What about Doc?” I asked.
"Oh, that Doc," Myrtle laughed. "He is something for sure.”
"So, what can you tell me about him?” I asked.
"I can tell you only a bit because I don't know everything. Doc is a medical student, although I think he may have just graduated. Lorne recruited him sort of like he did me. Lorne's father and Doc's father were good friends, I think. Doc's father didn't like the way the country was going either. I know that because he told me before he died."
"How did he die?" I asked.
"From prostrate cancer," Myrtle said. "It was sad for Doc to see him waste away like that. Really sad!"
"And Lorne?” I asked.
"Lorne doesn't talk much about himself. I do know that his father was almost as tall as I am, maybe six-four or better, and Lorne is only five-foot-two."
"I thought he was taller than that," I said.
"No, only five-foot-two, maybe even a smidgen under," Myrtle laughed. "He told me once that he has small man's syndrome and that made him over-achieve all of his life."
"He seems pretty normal, if exceptionally skilled, to me.” I said.
"He is also rich, I mean almost Bill Gates rich. His dad was rich and Lorne took what he inherited and turned it into a real fortune. The part I like is that Lorne doesn't hurt people just to make money. He is about as fair and generous as anyone I have ever met. He can close deals on a handshake that no one else could."
"I take it you like him?” I asked.
"Yes I do," Myrtle said.
"I like him a lot too," I said. "What's more, my gut says to trust him."
"You can't go wrong trusting Lorne Vander!” Myrtle said. "That is a fact."
"Is that so?” Lorne said, as he entered the kitchen.
"Yes, that is so," Myrtle said. "I have been talking behind your back."
Lorne smiled, "Good. Tell John anything you want. I have nothing to hide—except perhaps from the government.” Lorne laughed and sat down across from me at the table. Myrtle looked at him and motioned toward the stove. Lorne shook his head and said, "Maybe later, Myrtle, but that chicken sure smells good!"
"It is!” I said and then stuffed the last piece of chicken on the plate into my mouth. "I am full now. That's for sure."
"That's good!” Toni said from the doorway. I watched her as she walked through the door. She appeared to be more relaxed and rested than the last time I had seen her.
"Where is Doc?” Lorne asked.
"He had to go to Arkansas right after you guys got back. There is a small problem there that he said he would take care of. He said you guys needed your rest after the trip to Colorado.” Toni explained.
I looked at Lorne again and wondered if he ever slept. I knew he had been awake now for over 24 hours, and he was still wide-awake and alert. I still felt a bit tired myself, even though I managed to sleep a lot on the plane on the way back to Mississippi.
"OK," Lorne said. "I would like Doc to be here, but we will proceed anyway."
"Proceed with what?” I asked.
"I will fill you in over the next few days," Lorne said. "But first, I would like to know who and what you think we are. I know what Myrtle, Toni, and Doc have told you, but I am very interested in what you think."
"Why are you interested in what I think?” I asked. "I am just a retired science professor."
Myrtle laughed, "Just like I am a ballerina."
I looked at Myrtle and grinned. "For all I know, you dance exceptionally well."
"No," Toni smiled at Myrtle. "Myrtle doesn't like to dance, and he sucks at it."
"
You bet I do," Myrtle laughed. "Remember when I fell down at the Christmas party last year and all I was trying to do was a waltz."
Lorne smiled too. "That was a sight to see, but I still have a suspicion it was a deliberate effort on your part to liven up a dead room.” Lorne looked back at me. "I think you are far more than a run-of-the-mill retired professor John. I happen to know that you were the top-ranked researcher in your research area."
"Some folks said that," I admitted, "but it wasn't even worth a raise."
"That is because you refused to play politics, John."
"You have checked me out pretty well," I said. I noticed Toni smiled.
"I suspect we know more about you than the government does," Lorne said. "But then, we think you might be far more important to us alive than killing you is to the feds."
"That would have to be pretty important," I said.
"So, tell us who and what you think we are," Lorne smiled.
"Ok," I said. "This may take me a few minutes, but here is what I think.” I paused to get my thoughts in order. "I think you are a relatively loose, and headless, group of government resistors and constitutional supporters."
Lorne glanced at Toni, and then at Myrtle. The looks they exchanged seemed to say that I had said something significant.” Go ahead Lorne said."
"I think the group organization is somewhat loose because there seems to be no serious command structure. I say this because folks seem to act mostly on their own, more like a mutual aid society, than a rebel army. But, that has its advantages as well.” I looked at Lorne. "I am not sure I understand the apparent lack of leadership because I think Lorne is a natural leader and, even though he may have the most resources of any member of the group, I find, that even here in his home, he is quite egalitarian. I think that is the type of leader that would be most effective with a varied and individualistic group such as this resistance."
Drone Wars 1: The Beginning Page 9