by Dirk Patton
There was a sudden, sharp pain in the side of my neck that numbed my body and instantly ceased my struggles. A rough hand clamped over my mouth, then a whiskered face pressed close and I could feel the man’s hot breath on my cheek.
“Stop fightin’, boy. I’m the goddamn cavalry.”
Tears of frustration sprang up in my eyes as I couldn’t even raise an arm to struggle against my captor. Fear for Tanya, who still wasn’t moving, sent a fresh surge of adrenaline through my body, but it didn’t help. Whatever the man had done to me, I still couldn’t move.
“Watch and listen,” he mumbled in my ear again. “We’s the ones your ma called. Your girlfriend’s fine, just got a bump on the noggin. Nod your head if’n you unnerstand.”
My mind was racing, trying to figure out what the hell had happened, but his words went a long way toward calming me. How could he know my mom had called for help if he wasn’t legit? Unless someone had tapped her phone. At the moment, though, I didn’t have any option other than to play along. I was more worried about checking on Tanya.
Apparently, my neck was still functioning as I was able to nod my head. Slowly, the pressure on my mouth came off, but he was ready to clamp back down if I made a sound. He tugged on the rifle, pulling it from my non-responsive hand, then I felt him remove the pistol from my waistband. Hope surged when he didn’t search me and take the knife in my pocket.
“What’d you do to her?” I mumbled, twisting my head around.
All I could see was a shape that was slightly darker than the surrounding forest.
“Just a love tap, boy. You got that evidence your ma tole us ‘bout?”
I hesitated. Was he asking because he was who he claimed to be, or was he here to kill us so it didn’t get out? He had us dead to rights, so why not just go ahead and finish us off if that was what he wanted? Because we might have hidden it somewhere, I suddenly realized.
“It’s somewhere safe,” I said, hedging my bet.
“Good! Now keep quiet. You’ll be movin’ again in a few minutes and you can check on her. I gotta be goin’. Still some bad guys that needs dealin’ with.”
The shape moved away without even the rustle of fallen pine needles and he simply faded into the night and was gone. I blinked a couple of times, more than a little freaked out that someone could be that quiet in the forest. For a moment, I even wondered if there’d really been someone there, but the numbness in my limbs was proof enough that I hadn’t imagined the whole thing.
Faster than expected, I regained control of my body and twisted out from beneath Tanya’s inert form. Leaning over her, I fumbled in the darkness until my hands were gently probing her head. There was a slight swelling on the back of her skull, just above where it met her neck. Without light, this was all I could find.
She was breathing normally and not knowing what else to do, I cradled her in my arms and looked toward the clearing. There was no sign of anyone, but I’d just learned the hard way that simply because I couldn’t see them didn’t mean they weren’t there.
Chapter 32
BK moved quietly through the forest, ten yards back into the tree line from the clearing. He couldn’t see the rest of his team, but knew they were moving into position. They’d all worked together for over a decade and it was to the point they could nearly read each other’s mind.
“Kids is secure.”
Trippy’s voice over the radio brought him to a stop.
“Evidence?” he asked.
“Boy says he hid it somewheres.”
BK paused in thought. Instinct told him it was time to go and that’s what he’d have done if he hadn’t been ordered to bring back one of the contractors for interrogation.
“How many down, Trippy?”
“Two, countin’ the lookout up top,” he answered quickly.
“Anyone got eyes on the leader?” BK asked.
He received a unanimous response of, “Negative,” which wasn’t terribly surprising. Small, special forces units don’t operate the way the regular military does. There’s not an officer that stays in the rear while the enlisted and NCOs do the fighting. On an SF team, every man has a job to do and rank doesn’t matter nearly as much.
“Okay, ladies,” BK transmitted after a few moments of thought. “We need one of these assholes breathin’ for the boss. Rest of ‘em don’t matter. Trippy, you’re in back of the cabin. Doc and Sticks, take the east side where they’re bunchin’ up. I’m comin’ from the west. Cup, you got a nest?”
Cup was the team sniper.
“Good to go,” came the answer, Cup sounding as if he were relaxing on his couch.
“Alright, we’re going in one minute!”
Each of the men acknowledged the timeframe and BK pushed forward through the trees. He had just reached the spot from which he’d launch his part of the assault when a shattering explosion ripped through the night, quickly followed by two more. They were loud, bone vibrating blasts, instantly recognizable as Claymore mines, and they’d come from where Doc and Sticks were supposed to be.
“Goddamn it!” Cup shouted. “Doc and Sticks are down!”
“Engage!” BK ordered, rolling around the trunk of a tree and breaking into a run.
Ahead, two of the contractors along the west wall of the cabin were pulling back to the woods. One of them saw BK emerge from the forest, swinging his rifle around. Before he could fire, his head dissolved into a cloud of pink mist from a heavy, high-velocity slug fired by Cup. BK stitched a long burst of fire into the second man’s body, sending him spinning to crash against the wall before falling to the ground.
From the far side of the small building, he could hear the soft pops of sound suppressed rifles. Angling for the darker area at the cabin’s rear, he shouted into the radio as he ran.
“Two down on the west side. Need one of those fuckers from the east kept alive!”
He leapt over the contractor Cup had shot and was preparing to fire a burst to make sure the second guy was really dead when the man whipped his arm up. It took BK only a fraction of a second to recognize the danger of the pistol in the man’s outstretched hand, then both of them fired at the same instant.
BK’s rifle was quiet, the unsuppressed pistol brutally loud in the cold, night air. The man’s head snapped back when a round found its target and BK stumbled, nearly going down when a hammer blow struck his leg. Ignoring the injury, he kept running, rounding the back of the cabin as the firing from the east side came to a stop.
“Coming in!” he called on the radio, not wanting to suddenly appear and be the recipient of friendly fire.
“Clear!”
Trippy’s voice in his ear.
BK slowed, stepping around the back corner with his rifle up and ready. Trippy stepped out of the trees and came forward. They stood over the bodies of two men.
“Where’s the third?” BK asked.
“Fucker was gone when I got here,” Trippy said, turning and looking in the direction Cup’s fire had come from.
“Bastard boogied when the Claymore’s went up,” Cup said. “Lost him in the trees before I could get a shot.”
“Which way?” BK asked, worried he might be headed to where they’d left Ashley.
“North.”
BK nodded to himself, relieved that there was little immediate danger coming Ashley’s way.
“You’re bleedin,” Trippy said, pointing at BK’s left leg.
BK looked down at the blood steadily soaking his pants, then shrugged like it didn’t matter.
“Cup, keep an eye out for that fuck,” BK said, turning to Trippy and not waiting for an answer. “Go get the kids and get ‘em in the cabin.”
Trippy trotted away without a word and BK looked in the direction the Claymores had gone off. Knowing what he’d almost certainly find, he took a deep breath and headed for the trees. Limping across a short stretch of the clearing, he stopped at the edge of the forest. On the ground near the toe of his boot was the shattered remains of a piece of
electronics. Frowning, he bent and scooped up the device. After a few moments of turning it over in his hands, he looked up at the forest.
“Everyone hold!” he called on the radio.
“What’s up?” Trippy asked quickly.
“These bastards used IR triggers on the Claymores. That’s how they got Doc and Sticks. No tripwire to warn ‘em.”
“Fuck me,” Cup breathed over the circuit. “Infrared triggers? Ain’t seen that shit since Syria.”
“Yep,” BK said. “Bettin’ these are Russian. Can’t tell ‘till I get ‘em in the light. Watch your asses. Don’t know where else they might’ve set some. Trippy, get those kids safe. I’m goin’ in to get our guys.”
No one acknowledged his transmission, but there was no need. They’d each do their jobs. Taking a deep breath, BK pushed into the trees, stopping every step and scanning for one of the mines. He knew it was a futile effort as they could be easily concealed, especially in a forest, but it was still the prudent thing to do.
Following the devastated vegetation, he quickly found his two friends. Both were dead, their bodies having been shredded by the powerful blasts of steel ball bearings that came from the mines. Grunting from the pain in his leg, he scooped up Sticks’ body and gingerly made his way back to the clearing.
Trippy came around the edge of the cabin, leading a teenaged boy and girl as BK limped up with the bloody corpse in his arms. The kids froze when they saw him, but he ignored them and took Sticks inside where he placed him down gently against the back wall. Going back out, he paused and looked at the boy.
“Your name Tread?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Sorry ‘bout your old man. He was a hell of a Marine.”
The kid nodded.
“Go get Blondie, I’ll get Doc,” BK said to Trippy, then looked at the kids again. “Still got an asshole on the loose. Stay inside. Got a man up in the trees’ll make sure no one but us comes in the cabin.”
He turned and headed for the trees as Trippy set off at a fast jog.
Chapter 33
“It’s too damn soon!” Jack Timmons protested when Carter finished speaking.
“Losing your nerve, Jack?”
“You can kiss my ass, Bill,” Timmons snapped. “This isn’t anything about nerve. This is timing, and you’re getting impatient. Christ on a cross! What’s your damn hurry? The world will still be here tomorrow.”
Carter rocked back in his chair, peering at the Silicon Valley billionaire with hooded eyes.
“Because we can’t lose momentum,” he said, more patiently than he felt. “Once a rock starts rolling, when is it at its most dangerous?”
“Fuck you, Bill! Don’t pull that condescending New Yorker crap on me or so help me God, I’ll kick the shit out of you right here in your own office! I understand momentum, and I also understand showing all your cards too soon. Give the other side something to rally around.”
“No, no, Jack. Let them think there’s something to rally around to draw them out. Once they’re in the open, that’s when we crush them!”
Timmons stared at the older man, slowly taking a sip from the whiskey glass in his hand.
“They’re already out in the open,” he finally said. “Haven’t you been paying attention? There’s a full on insurrection already under way. Five thousand armed men in downtown Dallas, seizing control of all the federal offices. And they had uniformed cops from half the cities and counties in that part of the state helping them!
“Damn near every federal agent is locked up, at least the ones they didn’t kill, and there’s thousands more out in the country, still getting ready! And it’s the same story in a dozen other cities. If this isn’t the beginnings of a civil war, I sure as hell don’t want to know what one looks like.”
“That makes this the perfect time!” Carter cried. “Now! While they’re still trying to figure things out. They’re working together, but they aren’t well organized. Not yet. But it won’t be long before a leader comes forward. If that happens, my friend, we’ve opened Pandora’s Box and there will be no closing it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“We’re exactly where we wanted to be, it’s just that we got there much faster than any of us anticipated. Civil unrest. Several states already declaring they are withdrawing from the Union. Armed mobs marching on federal law enforcement centers. We’ve got the rabble out in the open, Jack! That means we can crush them!
“But if we wait, we’re the ones that’ll be crushed. Dragged through the streets, stood up against a wall and shot. All it will take is for the right voice to lead them. Sure, we’re only talking about a small percentage of the population, but that’s all it will take if we don’t move decisively. We’ve been at war for more than two decades. Think about that for a minute. What it really means!”
“Don’t get your point,” Timmons said, draining his whiskey and leaning forward to pour another.
“My point is, there are fifteen million combat veterans living amongst us. Fifteen million! Men who were willing to fight in a shithole country in the middle east. Think they’re going to sit still here at home? If even ten percent of them grab a rifle and decide to fight, that’s a million and a half trained troops, inside our border! That thought alone is worrisome enough. Now, how many retired Generals and Admirals do you think are out there that, if the men would follow them, could turn the tide against us?”
“Thought we took out any of ‘em that we decided were a threat.”
“We did, but that doesn’t mean as much as you’d think. There’s Colonels and Majors that never got a star because they weren’t political enough, but could sure as hell lead an army. There could even be a civilian that comes out of nowhere and is able to inspire the fighting men. These are variables we’re aware of, but there’s nothing we could do proactively to address them. That’s why we have to act now. Events are unfolding faster than predicted, so our timetable has to adjust.”
The room fell silent as the two men stared at each other. Timmons slowly sipped his whiskey, frowning as he considered Carter’s point.
“What do the others say?” Timmons finally asked.
“They have deferred to us. We’re the only two Americans on the council, so they wisely decided to trust our feel for our fellow citizens.”
“Pussies,” Timmons snorted. “This goes sideways, they won’t be the ones getting hung for treason.”
“Regardless,” Carter said. “The decision is ours to make. And it needs to be made now. Mr. Wise is waiting outside.”
Timmons narrowed his eyes and looked at the closed door.
“Think it’s a good idea to keep bringing the White House Chief of Staff in here? Someone’s going to notice.”
“Let them notice,” Carter said with a smile. “He’s openly gay and his boyfriend has an apartment on the thirtieth floor. You really think I’m that stupid, Jack?”
“He’s gay? Never would’ve guessed,” Timmons said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
“Jack…”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
“So, what do we tell him? Are you onboard?”
Timmons’ eyes drifted to the large window behind Carter that had a magnificent view of the sleeping city of New York.
“Okay, you convinced me.”
Carter smiled and pressed a button on his desk phone, barking at the woman who answered to send Wise into his office. Quickly, the door opened and the White House Chief of Staff walked in, taking a seat across from Timmons.
“News,” he said, holding his phone up. “An armed group estimated to be larger than eight thousand was moving through Charleston, South Carolina. Heading for the federal complex. They came up against a smaller group that had shown up to defend the agents. More than eight hundred dead and the complex has fallen. And get this. The governor was leading the rebels with state police at his side!”
Carter smiled and clicked on the TV. The news channel was covering the battle
in Charleston and it looked like it had been brutal. Bodies littered the streets, cars were burning and several buildings were in rubble. It looked like a scene from a third world war zone. Pleased with what he was seeing, Carter turned his attention to Wise.
“We’ve decided it’s best to accelerate our plans.”
“That’s no problem,” Wise said. “The president is getting ready to go on TV and announce she is declaring martial law.”
“Faster than that,” Carter said.
“The military? Already?” Wise asked in surprise. “Shouldn’t we wait and see what the national guard can do?”
“No,” Carter answered, shaking his head emphatically. “I want her to issue orders for the military to destroy these rebels, enforce martial law and enact a curfew.”
“But we’re not far enough! Well over half our commanders will refuse to obey the order, and probably a much higher number of our troops. Things need to get worse, much worse, to convince the Generals this is our only option!”
“Mr. Wise,” Carter said calmly. “The refusal of the military to follow orders is precisely what we want.”
Wise looked between Timmons and Carter with a confused look on his face.
“I don’t understand. We’ve discussed this and planned it out. The military is supposed to restore order once the crazies throw their fit, then we’ve got all the public support we need to start dismantling the second amendment.”
“There’s a bigger goal,” Carter said, watching fear and personal concern flicker across Wise’s face.
“What’s that?” Wise asked, speaking barely above a whisper.
“Nothing short of the entire Constitution,” Carter said.
Wise stared at him with his mouth open.
“It is time to draft a new governing document,” Carter continued. “One that wasn’t written in the stone age and allows the uneducated rabble to run around saying whatever they please. Allows them to own guns and think they can stand up against the people who know what’s best for the country and the world.”