Survival Rules Series (Book 4): Rules of Engagement

by Hunt, Jack

  RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

  Jack Hunt

  Direct Response Publishing

  Copyright © 2019 by Jack Hunt

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to an online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  RULES OF ENGAGEMENT book 4 is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For my Family

  Also by Jack Hunt

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  The Agora Virus series

  Phobia

  Anxiety

  Strain

  The War Buds series

  War Buds 1

  War Buds 2

  War Buds 3

  Camp Zero series

  State of Panic

  State of Shock

  State of Decay

  Renegades series

  The Renegades

  The Renegades Book 2: Aftermath

  The Renegades Book 3: Fortress

  The Renegades Book 4: Colony

  The Renegades Book 5: United

  The Wild Ones Duology

  The Wild Ones Book 1

  The Wild Ones Book 2

  The EMP Survival series

  Days of Panic

  Days of Chaos

  Days of Danger

  Days of Terror

  The Against All Odds Duology

  As We Fall

  As We Break

  The Amygdala Syndrome series

  Unstable

  Unhinged

  Survival Rules series

  Rules of Survival

  Rules of Conflict

  Rules of Darkness

  Rules of Engagement

  Mavericks series

  Mavericks: Hunters Moon

  Time Agents series

  Killing Time

  Single Novels

  Blackout

  Defiant

  Darkest Hour

  Final Impact

  The Year Without Summer

  The Last Storm

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  A Plea

  Readers Team

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Ted Hudgens’ last meal was his favorite: black beans, eggs and home fries. The poor bastard didn’t even get to finish it. Slumped over, his pudgy face sank into the greasy remains after a round tore through his skull. Officer Dean Ferris might have pitied him if he hadn’t challenged the strangers. It was a stupid move, then again, Hudgens had always let his ego get the better of him.

  Minutes earlier, six city council members of Whitefish, Montana, along with the police chief, Ferris and ten volunteers, had been in the thick of discussing the ongoing crisis over breakfast when the eruption of gunfire startled them. Double doors burst open, and armed militants in camouflage clothing, flak jackets, semi-automatics and helmets swarmed in, fanning out. Chairs screeched back as officials rose in shock. As fear registered on those in attendance, yelling ensued and for a second, Ferris thought he would die. Seconds later, a disheveled Caucasian man in his late forties dragged in the body of a dead officer and tossed him in front of the group. A patchy beard covered his acne-scarred cheeks. Icy blue eyes washed over them as he proceeded to take out a half-smoked cigar from his upper pocket and light it. He blew gray smoke out the corner of his mouth and squinted.

  “Who the hell are you?” Hudgens demanded to know, rising from his chair slowly.

  The stranger gave no response. He removed his helmet and wiped his sweaty brow before approaching the table and taking a bite out of a chunk of bread before washing it down with coffee. “You’re asking the wrong question. You should be asking, what can you do for me?” He got close to one of the female council members and lifted her blond hair and smelled it. “Nice,” he said, his lip curling in amusement at her look of disgust.

  She went to slap him but he grabbed her arm and gave her a stern look.

  Hudgens glanced at Chief Bruce as if expecting him to take action.

  Ferris eyed the chief and one other officer in the room and shook his head ever so slightly to indicate not to do anything stupid. Not that they would but if he’d learned anything from being outnumbered, it was that heroics got people killed. A quick headcount and there had to be at least twenty soldiers.

  Appalled by the man’s behavior, Hudgens made his way around the long table, shaking his finger and cursing as he went.

  “I will not have you manhandle my staff. Now I want…”

  Before he’d managed to get halfway around, a soldier stepped forward and jabbed him in the gut with the butt of his rifle. Hudgens buckled and collapsed. His breath caught in his throat. The stranger who appeared to be the leader of the group strolled over and crouched down. He never touched Hudgens but cocked his head and tried to look him in the eye. Not an easy task when Hudgens was kissing the floor.

  “Let me guess. Mayor Ted Hudgens?”

  Ted lifted his eyes. “How do you know me?”

  The man scoffed as he rose and took a hard drag on his cigar. He blew smoke in the face of one of the officials, taunting him. “There’s a lot I know. About you. About this town. About the kind of resources and people that have ensured your survival.” He snatched an apple from a fruit bowl and took a huge bite. Crunching obnoxiously, he eyed each member as he walked past. Ferris could tell he was assessing threats or trying to incite them.

  “What do you want?” Ted asked.

  “Well, to talk, of course. Take a seat,” he said gesturing to a chair. When Hudgens didn’t get up fast enough, two of the militants dragged him back and forced him into his seat. The stranger approached a chair across from him that was currently filled by a city official. One cold glance and the feeble official got out of his way, cowering back against a wall. The man sniffed hard as he sat down. “Quite a spread you’ve put on here today.” He took another bite of his apple. “Certainly better than the towns we’ve been through on our way up.”

  “Where are you from?” Chief Bruce asked.

  The stranger looked his way, scrutinizing him.

  “Huh? A chief, still wearing the uniform. I have to say, that’s admirable. Stupid. But admirable.” He looked away before continuing. “Helena. Though we like to call it hell.” He chuckled as did
several of his men. “Not much left down there. Slim pickings. Certainly not the kind of merchandise I’ve heard is available here.” He looked again at the blond city official, his eyes scanned her like a barcode. “Of course there will need to be some reorganizing, but yeah, I think we are going to feel right at home here.”

  Hudgens’ first mistake was mocking him. Ted snorted. “If you’re here for supplies, I’m afraid you are a little too late. You see, that’s what this meeting was about. A lack of resources. You’d do better heading for the big city.”

  “Oh, c’mon now, Ted, that’s not what I heard.” He took another drag from the cigar and tapped the side of his temple with his index finger. “You see, a little birdie told me there is an abundance of supplies here. Yeah. In fact, word has it, there is a city of gold just brimming over with shiny objects — ammo, medicine, weapons, fresh meat, and those who would gladly fall in line for a cut of the pie.”

  Nervous glances were exchanged.

  Ted shook his head. “You’re mistaken. Mister…?”

  “Wyatt Hopkins. But you can call me God.”

  Hudgens frowned and Hopkins burst into laughter. “I’m jerking your chain. Man, the look on your face.” Laughter faded. Hopkins noticed him looking at the emblem of a cross on his shoulder. He turned ever so slightly to give him a better look. “The Patriots Militia. Though a man of your age might be more familiar with my father. God rest his soul. Him and a friend led the Montana Freemen.” Hopkins waited for it to register but it never did.

  He cocked his head. “Are you telling me you haven’t heard of them?”

  “Can’t say I have,” Hudgens replied.

  Hopkins gazed around the room. “Anyone?”

  There was silence then Chief Bruce spoke up, “The standoff with the feds.”

  A smile flickered on Hopkins’ face. “Ah, we do have an admirer.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it that,” the chief replied. “I just remember it made international headlines.”

  “That it did. March 25, 1996. Eighty-one days it lasted. Hell, if it wasn’t for my old man, they wouldn’t have known what to do in Oregon.” He laughed. “They took over Garfield County courthouse and offered $1 million bounties for the heads of officials. He warned them back then that their day was coming. And it has.” He raised both hands as if presenting himself. “From father to son, the mantle has passed.”

  Seconds passed as he relished the moment.

  Hopkins turned his head and one of his men came over and bent at the waist. He whispered in his ear and then the soldier left the room. While they waited, Hopkins scanned faces. “Which one of you is Corey Ford?”

  “He’s not in attendance,” Hudgens said.

  “Huh? That is too bad. I was informed he was a resident of this town.”

  “He is but something came up.”

  “I bet it did,” he replied narrowing his eyes. “Fine. Then an address will do.”

  Hudgens said nothing. Hopkins smiled as if knowing how things would play out. Right then the soldier returned with a man Ferris was all too familiar with. His eyes widened. He didn’t know him by name but he recognized the face. There before him was the old-timer. He was still sporting a salt-and-pepper beard, though slightly longer than he last remembered. Hopkins glanced at him then back to Hudgens. “Bill Pope. Remember him?”

  Hudgens couldn’t as he’d never seen the man, nor did they have names except for their leader, and he was dead.

  “Well, Pope knows you.”

  A flashback of hunting down the escaped convicts. The shootout at Corey’s home, and the final bullet that took down Ella. How could he forget? He thought he was dead. He racked his brain searching for the slightest memory. Then he recalled the hospital. They’d visited him just before they went to see Corey.

  Hudgens shrugged before Hopkins continued. “Man, maybe we got this wrong. Steve, this is Whitefish, right?”

  A fella on the far side of the room with a horseshoe mustache replied, “That it is, Wyatt.”

  “Pope, maybe you can clear up this matter. Is Corey Ford here?”

  “No,” Pope replied before glancing at Ferris. “But his pal is.”

  “Really?” Hopkins followed Pope’s eyes. Ferris swallowed hard, his hand hovering over his firearm. A smile danced on Hopkins’ face. “I know you are just itching to reach for it, officer, but I think you’re smarter than that. Is he?” Hopkins asked for clarification from Pope and he nodded.

  “He was there. Cried for mercy like a bitch.”

  Ferris dipped his chin, a wave of embarrassment washing over him.

  Hopkins got up and crossed the room with a bounce in his step. He leaned in and removed Ferris’ firearm. “You won’t need that, officer. Boys, take the others.” A couple of them moved in and lightened the chief’s and the other officers’ firearms, along with some handguns being used by volunteers. Hopkins perched his ass on the edge of the table and looked Ferris up and down. “You’re probably wondering how I know Mr. Pope here? Let me enlighten you. Pope and my father go way back. I have to say I was a little surprised when he showed up in Helena. We figured we’d have to scavenge towns in the surrounding area and make do with whatever we could find. Then again, fate has a wicked sense of humor. Everything happens for a reason, isn’t that right, Pope?”

  “Can’t disagree.”

  “So. Who are you?” Hopkins asked.

  “Officer Dean Ferris.”

  “Well, officer, we’re going to need your assistance.”

  “Look, sir, if anyone can help you it would be me,” Hudgens said, rising again to the irritation of Hopkins. “And I’ve told you. There is nothing here for you.” Hopkins looked back at him but said nothing. He looked amused by the mayor’s attempt at controlling the situation.

  “Ford. Where is he?” Hopkins asked Ferris.

  “Didn’t you hear me?” Hudgens added but was ignored again.

  “Why?” Ferris asked.

  Hopkins smiled. “Why?” He looked back at his men. “What is the deal with everyone’s questions? Whatever happened to the days when you told someone to jump and they simply did it?” He looked at Ferris. “Because he’s an old buddy of mine. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “A likely story. If you knew him, you’d already know where he lives.”

  “Fell out of touch. You know how things go.”

  “I can’t help you,” Ferris said.

  “Can’t?”

  “Nope.”

  Ferris was reminded of Corey’s words. He’d chewed them over countless times since Ella’s death. While he felt he had done everything he could to ensure her safety, he couldn’t help but feel as though he’d let Corey down, and betrayed him by giving away his location the first time around. He’d be damned if he’d do the same again. He’d signed up to protect not to grovel.

  “Pope, are you sure?” Hopkins asked.

  “He’s here. I don’t know where but I observed them.”

  “Observed. Right. You hear that, Officer Ferris? My man observed you all before he left town. Now are you saying my man is a liar?”

  “For God’s sake, man, my officer told you he doesn’t know,” Hudgens said.

  Hopkins got up and went back to his seat across from Hudgens. He began to tuck into a plate of food, scooping beans into his mouth and biting down on bread. “Beans. Gotta love ’em. You grow these yourself?”

  “No,” Hudgens said, still standing. A look of annoyance spread on his face. “Look, you want food, we don’t have much but we can give you some.”

  Hopkins wiped the edge of his mouth with a napkin and chugged down some water. “That’s real generous of you.”

  Hudgens sat back down thinking he was making headway with the man. “Well, you’ll find we are very reasonable people,” Hudgens said.

  Hopkins shook a knife in his direction. “Reasonable. I like that. Did you hear that, Steve? He’s reasonable.”

  Steve chuckled.

  Hopkins continu
ed to shovel more beans into his mouth as Hudgens rattled on. “Now of course there is an order to the way we do things around here. If you and your men are open to that, we could even use your assistance. Obviously you would need to abide by the rules that govern us.”

  “Rules? Ah, I’ve never been one for rules.”

  Hudgens grimaced. “Well, they’re not rules, so to speak, more like guidelines.”

  “Guidelines?”

  “Yes.” Hudgens smiled thinking he was winning some war of communication. “Of course you would be rewarded for your contribution to the town. There are perks.” He waved his arm around at the volunteers in attendance. “These people will attest to that, won’t you?”

  Hopkins stopped chewing and used his fork to pick out a piece of food stuck between his front teeth. “Wow, that’s quite a tempting offer. Except one thing.” Hudgens leaned forward, his hands clasped around his plate. “That would require being accountable to you,” Hopkins said.

  Hudgens frowned as if stumped by some hard math equation.

  “Well… I am the mayor.”

  Hopkins nodded, then without warning pulled his firearm and unloaded a round into Hudgens’ forehead. Ted’s body slumped forward, face straight into a plate of food.

  “Not anymore.” Hopkins glanced around smiling. “Anyone else care to join him or have I got your full attention now?”

  Silence fell over the room but was quickly replaced by the noise of men and women protesting as Hopkins gave a command for his men to bring everyone outside. Forcibly removed from the hall, they were led out into the bright morning. That was when Ferris saw the true threat. There was even more militia waiting by military vehicles. Upwards in the range of a hundred or more. It was like a damn convention. Ferris squinted and raised a forearm to block the glare of the sun as soldiers strong-armed them to the edge of the road and made everyone get on their knees. A few minutes passed until Hopkins emerged, dabbing the corner of his mouth before tossing the napkin. He lit another cigar, then took out of his top pocket a pair of aviators and put them on. He stood there surveying the town like a king before stepping off the sidewalk and strolling before them.