A long Lonely Road Box Set 3

by T J Reeder

  We decided we would roll with four scout teams and twenty-five shooters besides the girls and me. We would pick up the scout teams and Charley on the way. The girls had disappeared while we laid the plans and then showed up all smiles and bubbly. I figured that meant they got their way again.

  I decided we would roll with the big Ford again since it holds us all. Some of the ladies were upset that we were taking the kids but we weren’t leaving them behind and I figured to fight any battles on shore if our plans worked out.

  Three days after the message came in we were rolling and the girls (which now includes Kid) were driving their Jeep with the damn mini-gun sitting proudly on its mount- belt of ammo shining in the sun. They had taken it out into the desert to test fire it and returned all smiles. Cute, sweet, fun, wild, batshit crazy. I love ‘em!

  Personally the idea of riding all the way to the Gulf in that uncomfortable Jeep was a big ‘NO’, but being smallish they fit perfectly and seemed to love it. They started off all bundled up like arctic explorers but as the day wore on they were peeling layers like snakes shedding skin. I asked Beth if she wanted to ride with them while the kids slept. She laughed and laid her seat back and smiled herself to sleep. Smart lady.

  When we got to Shiprock Charley was ready; his scout units were already out ahead of us. We were heading down to Galveston on a more or less straight line, (more or less being the operative words), but any way you cut it it’s a long drive and would take us a couple of long days at the rate we roll. One thing that’s becoming noticeable is the lack of maintenance on the secondary roads. It’s already starting to show, and I see no chance in hell of roadwork coming back in my lifetime, if ever.

  We spent the first night in a small town that had kept their motel running to handle travelers. There was a café that had good food. We were known and raised no hackles when we rolled in armed to the teeth. We did maintain our own security over the vehicles and spent a comfortable night.

  At breakfast the girls announced their Jeep adventure was over- they wanted it placed on a lowboy that just happened to have room for it (I’m not a complete fool). They love their Jeep on the short haul but not on a long haul. They like the comfort of the big Ford, they love their nappy time (“Shut up John, gloating is childish”) (I smile real big) but in truth I don’t blame them- Jeeps are cool but not that cool.

  One more long boring day of driving got us to Galveston, and I wasn’t impressed. Not my cup of Tea. We headed right to the port and found Fox who said right off he was getting bored with this duty and was gonna find somebody else to handle the whole operation.

  I had expected this. Fox is an action junkie and when home in the canyons spends a lot of time out on patrol with the Scouts- I think he’s even able to converse a bit with the scouts, about on par with Sandy who has done quite well with it. I doubt anybody not born to it will ever be fluent in it but a little is better than none.

  Fox also has plans to start training scouts who want to learn how to parachute into forward operations areas in the future. I can see the need and advantages of it but ‘they’ will, without a doubt, want to get involved and I know I can’t stop them. I guess when they grow up you have to let them go. (That was a joke).

  After looking at the map and studying the area where the attack came from it would appear the most logical place was a stretch of coast on the southern tip of South Padre Island which meant it could be either Mexican, or Anglo, or a mix of people. The boats weren’t really big enough to haul more than a few people, so that’s why there was so many of them.

  Our ships weren’t hugging the coast but stayed close as much as possible, and while we could have them move deeper into the gulf that wasn’t the point. It needed to be stopped. If they were trying to take our ships what were they doing to folks just trying to survive on shore?

  While it might be a Texas matter it was also our ships and I figured we could do a better job, sooner.

  We looked at it and figured they weren’t interested in what we sent south, so it was the coffee they were after- had to be.

  Fox said we had a ship heading into the problem area in about a week, so we planned how to handle it. My first thought was to head overland and look for them but that involved searching every cove or small town in the area.

  Best to let them come to us. We could then deal with them at sea or follow them back to shore. Either way we were going to end it. First we had to get our bunch onboard the incoming ship, so the one in port was prepped and we sailed the next morning and headed deeper into the gulf so as to not be spotted.

  We had loaded a few vehicles onboard including the Jeep with its massive firepower. If need be we would find a small port to offload and send a mobile patrol out. We also took several inflatable boats with motors.

  We got underway and hauled ass full speed. We needed to get past the raiders’ operations area and then swing in and contact our inbound ship without using the radio. It took four days and three nights but we found her plodding along conserving fuel. With the signal lamps flashing we made contact and came together as close as we could.

  Fox and I went over to speak to the ship’s captain and work out the plan. He would head further out into the gulf out of sight and beat for home port. We would take over his route and speed and hope the pirates didn’t recognize the ship. Both were painted the same so it shouldn’t be a problem. The cargo was already loaded when we came aboard so the water line showed we were full of cargo; the vehicles were chained on deck and covered.

  And, if they were too persistent, the girls’ mini-gun was there to deal with them in high speed. I was glad I gave in on the mini-gun (“Gave in? HAHA we were gonna do it regardless, oh great leader”) Sigh.

  We wanted to approach the area where the raiders operated from last time around dusk, with all our lights blazing we were sure to attract attention. I wanted this over with. We couldn’t spend weeks sailing back and forth trolling for an attack. Hell, maybe it was a one-time thing. They got shot up and said ‘screw it’ and went to farming or fishing.

  As planned and to make it seem like a sure thing the captain radioed that he was having engine problems and was stopping to see what it was- he would call by morning if he needed a tow boat. So saying, we coasted to a stop, the ship rolling in a gentle chop.

  The radar mast was turning and the lights were on, indicating we still had some power. Now the waiting began. One thing we had talked about was letting them come aboard and then hit them with bright lights and a call to surrender, but that would endanger our people with no gain. Fox proposed we use controlled firepower to kill their motors leaving them at our mercy, and a short burst from the mini-gun should seal the deal.

  Just before dawn the radar pinged on several small boats approaching the ship slowly from the stern, which is the best place to board a ship if you have bad thoughts. There were six of them with likely four to the boat.

  We had shooters using sniper rifles with night vision scopes and suppressors.

  We waited until the boats were close enough for the snipers yet far enough away to make their AK’s not so effective and starting with the last boat and working forward they simply blew up the motors before they knew what was happening. Then we hit them with big searchlights that burned out their vision for a good while. Using a bullhorn and a Spanish speaker they were told to drop their weapons overboard- any who didn’t were shark food.

  And of course one of them raised his AK and promptly fell overboard leaking brains and blood into the water. Only after two more joined him did the rest start tossing weapons overboard. The bullhorn guy then told them that anybody with a weapon when they were brought aboard was going to be shot in the leg and tossed to the sharks. The water churned white around the boats from all the weapons going over. The speaker said, “A knife is a weapon no matter how small”-,more splashes.

  They were ordered to paddle to the ship and we dragged them aboard one at a time to be searched and cuffed. The searchers found a small pistol
on one and he was promptly shot in the leg and tossed overboard. Several more splashes were heard from the boats. The wounded man did make it to a boat where he was pulled in. Good enough, he made our point.

  We soon had them all on board and in a small locker with no exit. We took them one at a time and asked the same questions and then put them into a different locker. We had numbered them with magic marker that matched their answers. We sorted out the ones who had matching answers and returned them to the first locker then started asking again. We got a few more truth tellers this time but four were hardcore, so we figured they were some kind of leaders. They were lead to the stern and watched the sharks in action, then asked the same questions again, and they all told the truth this time.

  Fox had an interesting guy working with him that we had never met. His name was JJ Jordan. He wasn’t very big, and in fact he was pretty small. I think I had boots that weighed more. He also looked a lot like Johnny Depp in his pirate movie role! He was a very wiry guy, not built for mass strength but the kind that usually made it thru the Spec-Ops training- run all day, swim like a fish and in general, just able.

  He had awesome tats on his chest, some kind of tribal looking things. He was kind of dark looking but it might have been just a deep tan. He also spoke fluent Spanish with a funny accent; Fox said it was because he learned Spanish in Costa Rica and Panama. But he was an American.

  Long story short he offered to get tossed into the locker like another prisoner. Fox thought about it for a moment and said, ”OK.” JJ said, “Hit me.” Fox said, “Are you fuckin crazy?” JJ said he would pass muster better if he looked roughed up. Fox said he might break him if he hit him.

  Without a word Sandy stepped up and punched JJ in the mouth causing blood to spray all over. JJ laughed and said, “You hit like a girl.” Sandy said, “Well duh, asshole. I am a girl” and slugged him again. This time he had a cut over his eye that (like all head cuts) bled like a fire hose. JJ said, “Good! Much better.” Sandy laughed and said, “Anytime, Bro!” They high fived. Crazy fuckers.

  Fox stood close to the hatch into the paint locker and yelled for them to bring that other asshole and toss him in with the other pirates. The plan, of course, was to get more information and to spread a bit of good cheer to the others, like maybe being taken to port and tried for piracy and hung.

  We had turned away from the area where the pirates came from and killed time. About time for evening chow we took them out a few at a time to walk around a bit and use the head. It also allowed JJ to give us the nod that he had all he was going to get. The others were returned to the locker and fed and JJ briefed us on what he learned from just listening. The real Boss Pirate was named Chaco Johnson.

  He was an American who, with several other Americans, had taken over the small town on the coast and had been making a living by raiding down the coast and inland.

  Johnson and his people were all former military and drug runners before the EMP put them out of business. They had maybe 20 shooters and sent the locals out to try their hands at pirating. All told there might be another 20 men who were armed but were not shooters by any stretch- mostly locals like these people. Our ship was their first attempt at being pirates. They weren’t very good at it and in fact were really peaceful folks; more forced to it than desiring to. Johnson kept control by always keeping several of their kids as hostages. The ones who showed resistance in the boats were the ones who came with Johnson and his people.

  We worked out our plans based on information from the villagers, who were here out of fear for their families. We learned there was an abandoned fish processing plant about fifty miles down the coast where our ship could dock and unload our vehicles. We would unload, then the ship would slowly approach the harbor where the pirates were living. I figured all eyes would be on the ship allowing us to ease in and take them out.

  We made the approach to the old fish plant just before dark and were unloaded in short order. We were taking the Hummers and the Jeep- we would be crowded but we could handle it for the short ride. We would time our approach about daylight. The ship horn would be blasting with the prisoners waving empty guns and dancing around and acting like winners- all but the ones who came in with Johnson. They were going to be locked away.

  We didn’t fully trust the villagers but I believed they were on the up and up. Once again I find myself hugging Beth and Kid and the babies before heading off into some kind of problem. I couldn’t wait to head for the high country, away from all this crap. Of course we always managed to find crap wherever we went.

  The ship eased away from the dock and we rolled out heading to the highway. We found the old highway that had fallen into disrepair (although it was likely never much to begin with). We had a lot of time to kill so we pulled over, made coffee and passed the hours before the dawn resting. With two hours to go we headed toward the town.

  The prisoners had told us there was a guard set up on the turnoff to the coast, so Charley sent four scouts in to deal with them. Turned out they were sleeping. Both were just locals drafted into helping the gang. They were just tied up and left alive after being told they would live if they kept quiet.

  Come daybreak we were as close as we could get with the vehicles, so most of us eased in on foot. The Hummers and Jeep would roll in when the shit hit the fan.

  Just as it was that time of the day when folks roll over for that last little bit of sleep, the morning calm was blasted by the ship’s horn. She was about 500 yards offshore, and we could see the would-be pirates jumping around waving rifles. The whole village came alive with people running out to see what was going on.

  A bunch of obvious Americans ran toward the docks while telling the crowd to stay back. JJ ran in among the villagers and started telling them to get back and get down. They were confused at first, but seeing the rest of us they took off for their homes.

  The pirate kings were all on the dock, lined up like bowling pins. I saw no way to do it but to tell them to drop their weapons, which of course they didn’t do. All of them turned and opened fire. We were all behind good cover- they weren’t. It was over in less than thirty seconds. What a waste. These guys could have helped this village be something more in this new age. Hell, they could have done what we had done in the canyons but they were outlaws before the EMP and never changed.

  The jeep came flying in with Sandy on the gun. May slammed on the brakes while Sandy looked for targets. Seeing none, she jumped down and flew at me all afire- pissed off because she didn’t get to use their newest toy.

  By the time she got to me she was looking me over for wounds. Seeing none, she slugged me- right in the trauma plate and really hurting her fist. I laughed. Not smart. May joined her but seeing the hurt fist, settled for glaring at me.

  I called one of the Docs over to check her hand. She tried to bite him but he just ignored her- some of these guys aren’t afraid of them…damn fools all. He said she just bruised her knuckles and he advised she go back to biting. Then he ducked and walked off laughing.

  May looked me over and said, “Wow, you didn’t get shot! A record for you!” So not funny. The village people (who were confused) surrounded us with questions. We just pointed at the rubber boats bringing their men ashore and watched the crying and hugging- the captive kids were free.

  The former mayor or whatever the title was came to me and we talked a while. He couldn’t believe they were free of the oppressors and that we weren’t just taking over. Their docking area wouldn’t accommodate the ship so we sent it back to the old fish plant where we would meet up with them.

  Most of the troops went aboard the ship leaving the vehicles less crowded. The girls accepted JJ’s offer to drive the Jeep back and we boarded the ship after saying goodbye to the good folks here. We also left them several hundred pounds of coffee beans. They were our new bestest friends. We left them all the weapons and ammo so this shit didn’t happen again.

  We went right to our room on board, showered and went to sleep. Th
e babies were fine, and didn’t seem to have missed us at all- Beth had though. We all gathered in the mess deck for a feed and didn’t have to tell the story because the crew had watched it all from the decks.

  The captain made top speed to the pick up place and in good order the vehicles were loaded and we were on the way. We headed right for Galveston where we found the other ship unloaded and re-supplying for the return trip in a week or so. We unloaded our gear and this ship headed right back out for Costa Rico to get another load.

  We had disrupted their routine but they were safer now and to avoid the problem, we posted shooters on each ship with some good firepower.

  I had a meeting with Fox and his shadow JJ along with Charley and worked out who was going to replace him here. He had already trained the person- a retired former chief petty officer with 30 years in the blue water Navy; he was from the area and knew his stuff. Fox said he was good and that was enough for me.

  All in all it went much better than I thought it was going to. In fact it was really nothing more than a small bump in the road, but it gave us a wake up call and showed us a few weak points in our operation which were now fixed.