by Joe Nobody
“Why did you stop looking?”
“Butter checked Nick’s pulse and found the big man was still pumping blood. We heard horses and other voices getting closer from three different sides. The next thing I know, Butter is lifting Nick onto his shoulders right when bullets start whizzing past our heads. We got the hell out of Dodge City.”
Again, Grim grew quiet, his voice barely audible. “I kept thinking we’d find someplace to take care of Nick’s wounds and then go back for the kid, but those assholes chased us all the way down the mountain. At one point, I had a chance to assess the boss’s status, and I knew right away we had to get him back to Bliss pronto. To be honest, I’m surprised he’s still drawing air.”
“It sounds like you made the right calls, brother,” Bishop said. “I haven’t heard a single thing I would have done differently. So why all the anger and frustration?”
Grim ignored the question, his mind still trying to justify his actions. “You know, I kept thinking about the prisoner we saw at their HQ. Kevin said he thought the guy was a PJ, said the guy was wearing Air Force camo. Anyway, I kept telling myself that they wouldn’t kill Kevin outright. I kept saying that if the enemy had kept the PJ alive, no way would they kill the kid. Do you think that’s true, Bishop?”
The pleading in the man’s voice tugged at Bishop’s heart. “Probably. I would have hoped for the same thing in your shoes.”
“That’s why I want to go back in,” Grim stated, some of his old swagger coming back. “We have to go get that kid. He’s one helluva shot and a good trooper to boot.”
In his pocket, Bishop carried Grim’s release orders, signed by the base commander personally. “I’ll let him go on your recommendation, Bishop,” General Owens had stated. “But if he goes busting up my facility again, I’m going to throw the book at him.”
Bishop studied the man across from him, still undecided if Grim was ready to walk out of jail. “You know it’s not your fault – right?”
“What’s not my fault? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on, man. We both know exactly what I’m trying to say. You’ve been blaming yourself for Kevin’s capture all along. But that’s wrong. You made all the right calls, and the shit still hit the fan. Nick doesn’t blame you. I don’t blame you, and Butter doesn’t blame you. And I’ll bet my next paycheck that Kevin doesn’t put it on you either. So why are you still carrying this load of crap on your shoulders?”
Grim started to protest, his finger stabbing in Bishop’s direction. But no words came out. Then he clenched his fists, fury and rage coiling in his arms.
“Because he trusted me!” Grim blurted, eyes watering with emotion. “Because the kid always thought I would be there… and I wasn’t…. I failed him, Bishop. Do you know what it’s like to have someone trust you? Do you know how it feels to let them down? He looked up to me, man.”
Bishop didn’t answer, watching as Grim buried his face in his hands and lost control like a man possessed; gut-wrenching, demonic moans afflicting him until the emotion bled out.
Ten minutes passed, neither of them saying a word while Grim struggled to regain control. Finally, Bishop decided the torrent of feelings had subsided, the worst of it having been expelled from his friend’s soul.
Reaching into his pocket, Bishop produced the orders granting Grim his freedom and dropping all charges. Sliding the documents across the table, Bishop’s voice was stern. “Go home. I want you to eat, bathe, sleep, and then repeat. You’ve not had any shut-eye for over 48 hours. You smell like a pig’s ass. Go back to Alpha and get well. In a few days, I’ll send for you. We’ll get Kevin back, one way or the other. That’s an order.”
A second passed before the contractor realized what Bishop had just said. “You’re coming out of retirement? You are coming back to the teams?”
Bishop didn’t respond, instead rising to his feet and pressing the buzzer.
When the MP opened the door, the Texan pointed to Grim and said, “He has new orders from General Owens. I vouch for their authenticity. Clean him up and get him a ride back to Alpha.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can’t get in,” Nick managed between sips on the straw. “They’re using drones, patrols, trip wires, and lookouts. They’d be onto you in a New York minute.”
“What about inserting by helicopter? Maybe we could drop a couple of teams into a remote area… storm the cabin and set the prisoners free.”
Nick, despite his injuries, waved off the idea. “There are so many problems with that strategy, I can’t even begin to list them all. How are you going to repel without having a bird or two shot out of the sky? Besides, you go buzzing around their territory with anything bigger than a hang glider, and they’ll kill those hostages outright and fade away into the woods. Hell, if I were them, I would have already moved the captives just to be safe. Who knows where they are now?”
Bishop stood and moved to the window, gazing out over the desert terrain that defined Fort Bliss. “There has to be a way,” he mumbled to the glass. “There’s always a way.”
“Believe me when I tell you that I’ve been lying here with nothing better to do but come up with an idea to get my son back home. Who knows what they’re doing to him? It’s maddening. And if I thought there was a snowball’s chance in hell that you could pull off a rescue, I’d be begging you to go. Hell, not even the Commander in Chief of the United States has got a plan.”
Diana and Terri picked that moment to stop in, the two women thick as thieves since Bishop and his wife had arrived from the ranch.
Terri caught her husband’s eye and motioned for him to join her in the hall.
Hooking arms with her mate, Terri guided Bishop a few steps away where they could talk in private. “I have a favor to ask, my love.”
“Sure. Anything.”
“Diana and I have been hatching a plot.”
“Oh, shit. I’m in trouble. I can tell already.”
Terri grinned, “Yes, you are, but that’s not the favor. I want your word that you’ll hear us out before throwing a shit-fit.”
“And when you’re done, then I can pitch a bitch?” he asked, not liking where this was going one bit.
“Yes, you can stomp around, cuss, and flail all you want.”
Bishop’s scowl deepened, “And it’s not going to do me one bit of good – is it?”
Terri grew serious, “If there is a hole in our scheme, then yes, we need to listen, learn, and fix it. But that’s not going to be the issue.”
“And what is?”
“Just hear us out, Bishop. Give our plan the benefit of your professional experience and knowledge. But please leave emotions out of it, at least at first. Okay?”
The Texan nodded his agreement, but still didn’t like it. He’d been on enough missions to recognize a tiger trap when he saw one.
They reentered Nick’s room, Terri closing the door behind them.
Nick flashed Bishop a look that asked, “What the hell is going on?”
Diana, evidently, had just finished the same conversation with Nick, the big man’s apprehension still visible beneath the bruises and cuts that covered his face.
“Let’s get started,” Diana began, using a voice that sounded like she was presiding over a council meeting. “Terri and I have been listening to you two and everyone else from the president to Grim trying to come up with a solution to this multi-tiered problem we face in New Mexico. So far, the only thing that has surfaced is frustration. Do either of you disagree with that general assessment?”
Nick started to protest, “These things always take a while to come together. Military ops are complex and….”
Diana cut him off, “Nick, you promised.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, retreating back to silence.
She continued, “Terri and I strongly believe that a diplomatic solution is the only option.”
Bishop inhaled, readying to comment, but a curt glance from Terri cut him off.
Diana continued, “The outline of the plan is simple, the Alliance needs to establish formal relations with the people in New Mexico. We need an ambassador and an open line of communications.”
Terri took over, “I’m convinced that if we can talk openly with our neighbors to the west, we can negotiate acceptable agreements and end this whole crisis. Job one is to circumvent the confrontational lines all sides have drawn in the sand, and make them see the value in working together for a common solution.”
Bishop couldn’t hold it anymore, “So what do you propose? We just drive into their reservation, hop out, press the flesh and introduce ourselves? I can hear it now, ‘Hi, we’re from the government, and we’re here to help you folks out. Never mind that we have hundreds of years of bad blood between us, you can trust us, fellas.’”
Terri’s eyes became daggers, thrown at her husband. “No. That’s not what we propose. And if you’re through jumping to conclusions, I’d be happy to explain it to you.”
Bishop backed down, but just barely. His bad feeling was quickly turning into a full-blown stomachache.
“Unfortunately, emotions on all sides are running far too high for something so simple. Shooting and spying on each other tends to do that. They would probably take the envoy prisoner and add to their growing collection of hostages,” Terri said.
“But, if we can earn just a little bit of trust and open a dialog, I’m positive they could be persuaded to see things our way,” Diana added.
Nick took a deep breath, “Okay, so far I can’t disagree with anything you’ve said, but how do you get the Alliance’s foot in the door?”
The two women exchanged knowing glances, and then Terri giggled, “We call this plan, Operation Sacagawea. We thought since you guys are always using all those military terms and phrases, we’d sink to your level and give it an official sounding, secret code-word name.”
Bishop was clueless. Ignoring the jab, he asked, “What in the world are you two talking about? A sack of… what did you say?”
“Actually, my love,” Terri replied, “It’s who in the world is Sacagawea. She was a person, but I’m not surprised you don’t recognize the name. I am betting the United States Army didn’t bring up her name at their war college,” she retorted, rolling her eyes to emphasize her point.
Bishop looked at Nick, but his friend didn’t understand either. “Okay. Fill the big lug and me in on this woman.”
Terri sighed, preparing to relay a story that was hurtful. “When I was traveling all over Texas with Betty, I used to have these guilt trips every now and then. I always felt like such a terrible mother, hauling Hunter around the countryside, taking chances and not spending as much time with him as possible.”
She paused for a moment, needing to gather herself, but then pushed on. “We were in Dallas attending some meeting with the local Army guys when Betty spied a book in the commander’s office. She asked if she could borrow it to read while we were traveling. It recounted the story of Lewis and Clark, the famous explorers.”
“Everyone knows that story from elementary school,” Bishop acknowledged. “But what do they have to do with this Sacaga-whoever-she-is?”
“Betty was trying to make me feel better about dragging Hunter around and putting him in what could be dangerous situations. She read to me about Sacagawea, a member of the Shoshone tribe who traveled with that famous expedition,” Terri explained.
“She was the wife of one of the mountain men Lewis and Clark hired on as part of their party to be a guide. She is known as the woman who walked 1,000 miles with a baby on her back,” Diana added.
Terri continued, “Captain Lewis gave her a lot of credit for their success.”
“I remember that name now,” Bishop said. “Wasn’t she an interpreter? Didn’t she speak French as well as the language of several local tribes?”
“Yes, that was originally the justification for her being part of the journey,” Terri smiled. “But years later, Captain Clark explained her role differently. He gave her and her infant credit for keeping them from being killed or ambushed by the Natives. It seems that the tribesmen believed in the explorers’ peaceful intent due to the inclusion of the young mother and her newborn as part of the entourage. War parties didn’t generally travel with women and children.”
It all became crystal clear to Bishop in that moment, the Texan standing abruptly and shaking his head. “No. I know where you’re going with this, and I can’t agree. Those were completely different times and circumstances. We don’t know how the people in New Mexico will react. They may eat babies for all we know.”
Terri shut him down, “Bishop, you promised. It’s not time to rant and rave… not just yet. Hear us out.”
Bishop paced toward the window, turning his back on the room. Terri could tell he was pissed. A blind person could see it, but she continued laying out the plan. “Once we make contact and establish trust with their leadership, I’ll drop the hammer and make them see the negative consequences of rerouting the rivers and stealing nuclear materials.”
“Let’s say for a moment you did pull this off… that somehow you managed to gain access to Mr. White Hair. How are you going to make him see the light? What is this hammer you intend to use?”
For the next 20 minutes, Terri and Diana took turns explaining the finer points of Operation Sacagawea.
When they’d finished, Nick was shaking his head, amazed at the plot. “Brilliant,” he admitted. “I have to admit, it’s genius. I’m glad you two are on our side.”
Everyone stared at Bishop, the Texan never having returned from his stance at the window.
“Bishop?” Terri chanced. “I know you’ve been listening.”
The Texan turned, nodding his head. “Yes, I promised I would. Is it my turn?”
“Yes,” Terri nodded, lowering her gaze and preparing for the firestorm.
“So, let me see if I understand the basics of this plan. You want me to agree to take my wife and firstborn son into a known hostile environment without backup or a brigade of shooters. Did I get that right?” he asked, no attempt to disguise the frustration in his voice. “What makes you think I’d agree to such madness?”
“Precedent,” Terri reminded him. “You did this before. When you were being framed for that massacre, we packed up the camper and headed into the badlands.”
“Yes,” Bishop shot back, “and I almost lost my wife and child. I may be an old dog, but I can be taught new tricks, and that was an episode I don’t want to repeat, thank you very much.”
“But why did we risk it in the first place?” Terri countered. “We knew it was dangerous before we packed up and left. Do you remember why?”
“Freedom,” Bishop responded. “To keep me from having a face to face, up close and personal introduction to a firing squad… or the hangman’s noose.”
Terri rose from her seat, moving to confront her husband. “It was more than that, and you damn well know it. We went on the dodge because of the Alliance. If you had been convicted and shot, it would have been a black eye on everything we were trying to accomplish. Having one of the council’s leading citizens labeled a butcher would have undermined everything we’d accomplished. That’s why we bugged out. That’s why we put our lives on the line.”
“Maybe. So?”
“So… so, now the Alliance’s future is on that line again. Our future and quality of life all hang in the balance. Yours, mine… and Hunter’s, too. So does Kevin’s, and the same for the Colonel’s son. This is the time when good people step up and don’t hold anything back. We’re those people, Bishop. Like it or not, that’s who we are.”
“Why us?” Bishop pushed back. “Haven’t we already done our part? Haven’t we put it all on the line enough times? Our luck isn’t going to hold out forever, hun. We’ve come way too close to the reaper’s embrace, and one of these days he’s not going to let us go.”
“Because we’re the only ones who can pull this off, my love,” she gently rea
soned. “This is a critical point in time. An intersection of needs and capabilities, and our family is the perfect fit.”
Bishop looked around the room, desperately seeking support from his friends. He found none, but after considering it for a moment, he should have expected that response.
Nick was no doubt troubled by mental images of a wounded Kevin being tortured, abused, or even killed. Diana’s primary purpose in life, the Alliance, was being threatened like never before.
Was he being selfish?
He had to admit, the plan was creative - one of the most insightful pieces of strategic thinking he’d ever heard. But what about Hunter? A week from now, would Bishop be the one lying in the hospital bed having nightmares about someone harming his son? Would he be attending his wife’s funeral? Would Terri be mourning him at his?
Terri, sensing her mate’s silent deliberations… came closer, looking up with eyes full of love and purpose. “We’ve always said as long as we’re together, all is well. I won’t press on this if you’re not 100% sure. You’re more important to me than any old Alliance… more important than anything else. But please keep in mind, we’ll be together, and we’re unbeatable as a team. It’s up to you, my love. We can head back to the ranch and that nasty old windmill this afternoon, and you’ll never hear another word about this.”
Bishop turned away, finding the view out the window a reprise from all the eyes that were waiting for his decision. His brain was reminding him of how much he desperately wanted to go home, his heart knowing Terri’s plan was the right move.
He thought about the windmill, the garden, and his little speech about only knowing how to make money using his rifle. Maybe he wasn’t cut out to be a rancher. Was living by the gun his destiny?
The Texan mulled, weighed, debated, and pondered. Go with your heart, he concluded. That’s where Terri lives, and she’s right. As long as we’re together.
Finally, with a deep sigh, he turned back, smiled, and nodded. “I’m in. How much does this gig pay, anyway?”
Chapter 11