I am ready," John stood. "Let me get my rifle."
This time the helicopter was much larger. Lorne slid into the pilot's seat and John climbed into the front passenger seat. Toni, Doc, and Peggy got into the rear seats. While they were loading the helicopter, a car swiftly drove up and squealed the brakes slightly as it stopped. A small, lightly built, hooded figure got out carrying only a laptop computer. The car left and the hooded person got into the back of the chopper with Toni, Doc, and Peggy. Peggy nodded to the figure and he/she nodded back. John looked quizzically at Lorne. "Don't ask," he said.
"If that is who I think it is, we need to talk.” John turned and said, "Toni, can you change places with me? I think our guest and I really need to talk."
"You bet," Toni said, with a glance at Peggy. The rest of the trip John and the hooded figure were deep in conversation. Peggy and Doc hardly got in a single word.
Bent Pine, North Carolina
Merle stood alone in front of the roadblock, armed only with the 1911 Colt in his holster. Behind him were seven huge dump trucks from the quarry, several smaller dump trucks, and the road grader from the city yard, as well as a couple of bulldozers from various nearby construction sites. None of the vehicles had keys in the ignitions, and they formed an effective barricade across the highway that the federal armored trucks and vans were unlikely to be able to pass through or drive around. The nearby rooftops and second story windows were lined with as many men who could get to their rifles and get there on a few minutes notice. There were also five or six men scattered throughout the junkyard on Merle's left. The word had now spread throughout town for everyone to take cover and arm themselves.
The federal trucks and vans approached to about 200 yards from the barricade and stopped. The lead helicopter landed on the pavement in front of Merle. The other choppers either continued on or circled. Merle didn't think that looked good at all. A man stepped out of the chopper. He was followed by six feds dressed in SWAT gear.
"What is the meaning of this?” He shouted. "Who the fuck do you think you are?” The men with him immediately pointed their M4 carbines at Merle.
"I am the sheriff of this county," Merle said. "Who are you people and what is your business here?"
"We are Federal Agents. Get those vehicles out of our way. What we are doing here is none of your business.” The man seemed to become increasingly agitated with every word.
"I am here to protect the people I serve," Merle said.
"Oh fuck you," the fed said. He drew a pistol and pointed it at Merle. Before he could pull the trigger his head exploded. A microsecond later Merle heard the rifle shot and the fed's lifeless body collapsed to the ground. The six feds with him seemed shocked and confused. Merle took cover behind a bulldozer blade and drew his pistol as another of the feds dropped, shot through the head.
"Thank you Tom," Merle said under his breath as he shot at the remaining feds himself. Rifle fire was now coming from the junkyard and buildings that bordered the road. The pilot of the chopper was shot through and through and the Plexiglas windshield of the chopper crazed and partially collapsed. "I think that was a big fifty," Merle said out loud. "That must be Deputy Gator."
The trucks down the highway spilled SWAT-costumed feds onto the tarmac and they began firing their M4s. At that range, the accuracy of the M4's with the 14.5-inch barrels favored by the feds for clearing buildings was not particularly good. The return fire from Bent Pine was mostly .270, .308, and 30-06, fired from bolt actions and a few semi-auto hunting rifles. The feds were dropping with almost every shot, their low-bid body armor mostly useless against the heavy rifle rounds.
Merle was worried. He knew the militia men were on the way, but the helicopters, though small, could set their troops down anywhere and those troops would soon be able to flank them. Merle studied the helicopter closest to him considering if a shot from his 1911 would have any effect, when he saw the chopper's windshield craze, and the chopper spun out of control and crashed to the ground.
"Wow.” He muttered. "That must be Tom. Man, he is good.” Once the first chopper went down, some of the men with deer rifles also began to target the choppers that were close enough. In short order, three more crashed and the rest flew in all directions out of range. It looked like there were at least a dozen helicopters left in the air.
For now it was a standoff. It wouldn't last, Merle thought. They were out-gunned and outnumbered. There were more feds out there on the highway than there were townspeople, let alone armed men, in Bent Pine.
Merle was sure the feds had snipers as well so he got on the radio and got word out for everyone to keep their heads down and only fire when they had a good target.
About then that big fifty of Gator's began firing at a rate of about one shot every 2 seconds. Merle knew that Gator couldn't fire that quickly with any accuracy, but off in the distance the feds were dropping, one after one until the 20 round magazine was empty. Several shots shattered the front windows of armored trucks and killed the drivers. That created a traffic jam as the feds all tried to retreat at one time, the armored trucks often leaving before their squads could get back inside. Merle thought it looked like an old slapstick movie and he would have laughed if this were not so serious.
The big fifty continued firing as the feds retreated and one after another they dropped as they ran. The feds didn't stop until they were almost a mile away. "It must be Tom on the big fifty.” Merle said. "He is the only trained sniper in town."
Tom lay prone beside Gator. Gator's .50 cal Barrett was cradled against his cheek. He carefully worked out the range and drew a bead on the chopper hovering over the feds on the roadway almost a mile from where he lay. The day was almost windless. Tom grinned, "An easy shot.” He fired and the chopper whirled and spun out of control, the pilot shot through the heart.
This time Tom felt his actions were right. He was defending his friends and fellow Americans from tyranny, not trying to control dissidents in another country so a few corporations and government crooks could make a profit from spilled American and local blood.
The crash of the chopper caused the feds to pull back another half mile. Tom motioned to Gator and they both moved to another position. In a few minutes Merle flopped down beside them.
"Damn, Gator. I'll never make fun of you for buying that big fifty again. I never thought there would ever be a need for a rifle like that here in the USA."
"Neither did I," Gator replied. "Neither did I."
"They can be quite useful," Tom said. "I can still cause some damage to those feds from here if need be."
"Shit, I can't even see that far," Merle said. "No, hold off a bit. I want to know what is going on. I am going to get on the phone to D.C. and see what I can find out. Shoot if they come at us though.” He looked at Gator. "How many rounds do you have for that thing, anyway?”
"About a thousand, Chief," Gator grinned. "All match grade. I keep two hundred in the squad car. A couple of the guys are fetching the rest back to us."
"Holy shit," Merle smiled. "Remind me to buy you a steak dinner when this is over."
Tom looked at Merle, "Be as quick as you can. They have drones and they are getting them ready to launch."
The Farm, North Carolina
Porter found Jonas in his private lab fiddling with an apparatus that had no obvious purpose Porter could discern. "Jonas," he shook his shoulder. Jonas' mind slowly returned from the lost world within his head and he said, "Huh."
Porter gave Jonas a couple of minutes to normalize, as Jonas referred to his process of becoming aware of his surroundings once more, and then said. "Jonas, how many of the mini-missiles do you have ready to go right now?"
"Uh, I don't know for sure. I haven't been in the assembly shop today. Maybe 15."
"How about the drone jammers you were working on?"
"Uh, 257 here now. We shipped 500 to Kansas City yesterday."
"That’s good. We have a problem over in Bent Pine, about 20 miles from here
. The feds have attacked the town with a contingent several thousand strong. So far, the people in Bent Pine are holding them off, but they need some help. No one knows why the feds are there. The feds refuse to communicate with the local sheriff and mayor, but John in Kansas City said that it is probably a pre-emptive gun control confiscation strike by the feds intended to create fear and feelings of helplessness in the gun owning population. Kansas City is sending some people to help too, but we can get there much more quickly."
"Cool, I have been wanting to try some of my stuff out. I can be ready to go in fifteen minutes," Jonas said.
"You can't go," Porter replied. "We need your talent too much to risk you in a gun battle."
"I'll go with you or without you!” Jonas asserted.
"Yeah, you are just stubborn enough to do just that," Porter grinned. "Ok, let's go."
Bent Pine, North Carolina
"What do you mean that you can't tell me why your DIS cops are shooting at us?” Merle shouted into the phone. On the other line, the mayor was shouting something to a high-ranking state official, but Merle didn't pay attention to what was being said.
"Well, fuck you then," Merle said into the desk phone. "We will just kill every last one of your damn federales. Then we are coming after you personally, you idiot.” Merle slammed the phone down and turned to confer with Sean Donald, the commander of the Bent Pine Militia.
"All the men have reported for duty. We have all the approaches to the town covered; we are turning travelers on the west highway approach around and sending them back to safety. Most of the men are moving into position to back up everyone already at the road block."
"Sean, let the boys know that they have drones. I don't know what kind yet but prepare for the worst. Tom saw some through his binocs. I suggest you set your best shots to sniping the helicopters, and ask Tom to see if he can get the drones with that Big Fifty."
"Already covered, Merle," Sean smiled. "I had a word with Tom on the Radio."
"They will be the quad-copter drones, I'll bet. They will probably have predators on us very soon as well," Sean said. "We will spread out and dig in."
"I need to get back to the road block," Merle said. "But first..." Merle took a scoped FN/FAL from the gun rack on the wall and picked up a sack of loaded magazines for it. He smiled, "Maybe I can't reach out and touch them the way Tom can, but I'll get some lead into some of them."
"Oh stop asking silly questions, and just let us through," Jonas quietly said to the armed guard at the edge of town.
Lowboy was looking around for helicopters. He heard some but couldn't see them yet. Most of the other 20 or so people who had come with them were outside the bus doing the same. All were armed.
"There's one," Myrtle pointed at a helicopter.
"One of yours?” Jonas asked the guard. "It isn't one of ours or we would have communication to that effect."
"No, it belongs to the feds. You folks better take cover. They have been shooting at us. They have shot several of our guys so far; two that I know of are dead.
Jonas quickly walked back to the bus, got something, and then walked back to the guard. He was carrying an old 12-gauge single shot shotgun.
"What do you think you are going to do with that?” The militiaman asked.
"Just watch," Jonas said and aimed at the helicopter flying almost half a mile away. He pulled the trigger and launched the mini-missile. When it was two hundred feet from Jonas, the built-in rocket engine fired and the mini-missile quadrupled its speed in a flash of light. Jonas twisted the stock of the shotgun and a screen and joystick popped up. Jonas used the joystick to fly the missile to its target. The flash that destroyed the helicopter was as bright as a miniature sun.
"Whoa," the guard shouted. "You guys better get up to the front. I think they need you there."
Jonas was lost in thought again. He was busy trying to figure out ways to improve the mini missile system. Porter took the single barrel shotgun and the backpack full of missiles from Jonas and Lowboy led Jonas to the bus. In just a couple of minutes they were headed toward the front.
"Hey look Boss, we got reinforcements."
Merle turned and saw a band bus headed their way. The bus stopped well behind the roadblock and people poured out of the bus armed with various rifles and other assorted gear. One huge fellow carrying a scoped deer rifle trotted up to where Merle was crouched behind a concrete barrier block, and crouched down beside him.
"How's it going, Sheriff?" the big guy asked. "My name is Lowboy."
"Well," the sheriff said. "We're holding them off for now but I don't think that will last for long. Take a look.” The sheriff pointed to where the DIS police were bunched up about a mile and a half down the highway."
Lowboy looked where the sheriff pointed. He saw more than a dozen quad-copter drones headed their way. "I think we can handle those.” Lowboy said. He turned and waved his arm at the bus and another huge guy came trotting up to where they crouched behind the barrier. "Hey Myrtle," Lowboy said. "Can you get Jonas to use some of those drone jammer things that he made?"
"You bet," Myrtle replied and ran back to the bus. Soon, Myrtle and another fellow trotted back up to the barrier to join the Sheriff and Lowboy.
"Jonas," Myrtle asked, "can you shut those drones down from here?"
"No, the jammers need to be closer," Jonas frowned. "The jammers I have with us only have a range of about 200 yards."
"Well," the sheriff said, "if we could get them closer."
"I think we can do that," Lowboy said. "Do you have a vehicle I can use?"
"Yeah," the sheriff said. You can use my squad car."
"Turn some of those jammers on and give them to me Jonas.” I'm gonna take them down the road a bit."
"That is suicide," Myrtle said.
"Well, I don't intend it to be," Lowboy replied. "But you may have something there."
"Well, You ain't gonna go without me," Myrtle grinned.
"Well, let's go then."
The Sheriff watched the two huge men get into his squad car, pull around the barrier with the help of a dozen men who almost carried the car over the ditch, and start toward the feds massed to the East on the highway. The squad car was flying down the road toward the feds as fast as it would go, and Myrtle was tossing jammers out the window every so often. The sheriff watched as the drones grew closer and closer to the two huge men in the squad car.
The crowd at the roadblock cheered as the first drone got close to the car, faltered, and crashed. Apparently the jammers worked. Jonas appeared to be lost in thought, as if he was figuring out a better way to accomplish things. The sheriff smiled and pulled the young man down into a crouch behind the concrete barrier. Jonas didn't even notice.
The sheriff got up and went over to where Tom lay with the big fifty. "Tom, can you hit those drones from here?"
"I can try, no guarantee."
"Okay, you give it a try."
Tom settled in behind the scope. One of the drones had now stopped about 200 yards away from the squad car, just out of range of the jammer, and was hovering as if readying for a shot. Just as the auto pistol attached to the quad-copter drone begin to fire, Tom squeezed off a round from the big fifty. The drone shuddered and slid sideways a bit and then regained its equilibrium, it's gun still firing. Even at that distance Merle could tell that some of the shots hit the squad car. However, the squad car was turning around. Tom squeezed off another round and the drone shook and then spun out of control and crashed.
"Great shot," the sheriff smiled. "Hang in there. I need to make a phone call."
The sheriff got one of the militiamen to give him a ride back to the mayor's office, where the mayor was still trying to reach the white house on the phone.
"Any luck yet?” Merle asked.
"They have me on hold," the mayor said. Just then they heard a chopper approaching from the west. It came quickly, at a much higher speed than the DIS choppers were capable of. Merle thought it landed in the
parking lot. He did not hear any shooting, so he stayed in the mayor's office, trusting the militia to handle things outside.
A man soon strode through the door. He was about six feet tall and looked kind of familiar to the sheriff. Another man only a little over five feet tall followed the man. The smaller man carried an old Garand rifle with a familiarity that told Merle that he undoubtedly knew how to use it. Another odd individual followed the two of them. This one looked to be a young adolescent in a hoodie, but Merle couldn't tell for sure if it was a boy or a girl. The figure in the hoodie was carrying a laptop with a large antenna.
"Is that the White House?” The six-footer asked gesturing at the phone,
"Yes," the mayor said. "They have us on hold."
"May I have the phone?” The taller man requested. Without a word, the mayor handed it to him. The man put it to his ear and said, "I know you are listening. This is John Debrouillard. Put me through to the president, immediately."
A voice came on the line, "Yes Sir."
A little later a voice said, "This is the president. You are a damn hard man to kill John."
"I wish I could say the same for your feds here in Bent Pine, but it isn't true. You have five thousand of your federal police out there, stymied in an illegal gun confiscation attempt by a small town sheriff and a few deer hunters. Your people have taken a number of casualties, almost a hundred according to my intel, and more than half of your helicopters are down, as well as several of your drones. We have film of the entire fiasco and we have reporters on site and in the surrounding mountains filming everything that is happening."
"John, I am the president of the most powerful and influential country in the world. You can't go against me."
"I already have, Mr. President. Just remember, you started this. Oh, and by the way, you might want to reconsider that tactical nuke you are planning on hitting Bent Pine with in a few minutes."
"Why is that John?” The president asked. He smiled as he spoke, knowing that the person he was talking to would be vapor in a few minutes.
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