The Legacy Series (Book 2): The Ranch [A Legacy of Violence]

by Liscom, Sean

  All enforcers answer to me. Is that simple enough for the two of you?” he asked. Both of them just nodded their heads in the affirmative.

  “Good. You're catching on now. You have four enforcers in Elko, correct?”

  “Yes,” shorty answered for the duo.

  “What?” Braden asked tersely.

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Thank you. You respect me and I return the respect. Now, I need you to run along and fetch all four of the enforcers. Tell them to meet me at the Sheriff’s office in 15 minutes. If they are late, I'll see that as a lack of respect and it won't end well,” Braden said as he pointed to the short man. Once he had taken off at a sprint, Braden looked back to the other man.

  “I didn't catch your name.”

  “Toby, sir.”

  “Toby, in about 30 minutes or so, there will be six men riding up this road. Three of them are mine and the other three are city officials that were imprisoned at the ranch south of town. You will, under no circumstances, impede them. You will allow them to pass this checkpoint. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Excellent. Thank you, Toby. I hope you have a pleasant evening,” Braden tapped the horse on the sides with his heals and rode straight into the small city. He couldn't believe

  that the checkpoint guards had bought his story. The entire time his heart was pounding in his chest. He had been sure that they would

  challenge him a little more than that.

  Braden rode the huge horse all the way to city hall and met no resistance. When he arrived, there were two more guards at the front entrance. He nonchalantly dismounted and tied the horse to one of the trees on what used to be the lawn. With that done, he walked straight for the entrance. Neither guard moved to stop him, they just nodded as he passed.

  “Evening, gentlemen,” he said in greeting but received no reply. He went to the stairs and took them two at a time. Arriving on the second floor, he took a right and went straight to Sheriff Watson's office. Not only was it his office, it was also the communication center for the city.

  The door stood open and he could hear voices coming from the inside as he approached. They were low and muffled so there was no way to tell what they were saying. He straightened up his posture and started walking heavy on his heels. The sound echoed in the hallway. Already knowing the layout of the Sheriff’s office was a plus. Jason had brought him here a month ago on a visit.

  He strode into the room and the four men fell silent. Braden stopped and closed the door

  then he turned and went straight to the chair behind the desk. He removed his AR and leaned it against the wall behind the desk. Without saying a word but keeping eye contact with each

  of the men, he removed the K-bar knife from its sheath on his body armor and slammed the tip of it into the desktop. The blade penetrated nearly an inch into the oak surface. Every man in the room jumped a little.

  Next, he drew the pistol from his left thigh and held it up. Using his right hand he pulled a suppressor from a pouch on his battle belt. He made a show of threading it on as he stared into the eyes of each man. None would hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. He set the Sig Sauer handgun on the desk, next to the knife. He could see fear in their eyes, that's exactly what he wanted.

  “Which one of you is Pete?” Braden asked as he sat down.

  “I'm Pete,” second from the left answered.

  “Nice to meet you, Pete. Please take one step forward,” Braden ordered. After Pete stepped forward, Braden continued. “Ray Judge left you here as the top enforcer, is that correct?”

  “Yes, that is correct, sir,” his voice was weak and sounded like he had a sinus infection.

  “Nothing personal, Pete, you're being demoted. Step back, please. In case any of you were wondering, Adolpha sent me here to

  straighten out the mess that Ray has created. She has also given me full authority to do what I see fit. None of you or your men answer to Ray Judge anymore. You answer to me. Do you

  understand?” the confusion on their faces was evident.

  “Ray may be the leader of Adolpha’s ground forces but when it comes to winning people’s hearts and minds, he sucks. Adolpha needs the food and goods that the locals can provide. Since you've been here, they have produced nothing. Every city and town that Ray has conquered now produces nothing. I'm here to change that. Questions?” Braden asked.

  Thursday, August 17th, 2017

  Southern Nevada.

  I looked at my watch, 10pm, trying to get Monica and her two children moving was turning into a nightmare. Melissa had siphoned enough fuel from the Harley's to fill the gas tank of the quad and the spare five gallon can. Even after doing that one of the big bikes still had a half a tank. Hopefully it would be enough to get us to our next destination.

  I'd told Monica to pack light but that just wasn't going to happen. Looking around the various barns and sheds, I found a small trailer. The deck on it was four feet by four feet and it

  had 12” high sides on it. Their food, sleeping bags, extra clothes, water and a few personal items were loaded onto it and tied down. The extra gas was strapped to the rear rack of the

  quad and would serve as a backrest for one of the kids. Melissa had rounded up several weapons from the dead bikers that included an M16-A2 rifle. Along with it were six 30 round magazines. It wasn't a lot but it would serve Monica well as a hunting rifle. We couldn't find any .308 for her rifle.

  Between all of the weapons that the bikers had and the ones we took from the communications relay, I had some decisions to make. The four bikers were all armed with identical weapons which told me they had put a little thought into it. The M16-A2 was a fine rifle and it had a couple of advantages over the AK-47 that I was currently carrying. It was lighter and far more accurate than its Russian counterpart and that’s what convinced to make the trade.

  I swapped out the six magazines on my body armor and set aside six more for Melissa. Then I picked two M16’s and set those aside. All of the bikers were carrying Glock 21 pistols, the 45 caliber version of the Glocks that we currently had. While the Glock 19 had a higher round count in the magazine, I preferred the 45ACP round over the 9mm. The decision to swap those

  out was an easy one that didn’t require much deliberation.

  When that was done, I set aside the two smaller 9mm handguns that we had been carrying with my AK-47. They might come in

  handy later for a trade or backup weapons. I had my body armor on and so did Melissa. That left us with two extra sets. They weren’t particularly heavy in their current stripped down form so I decided the put them with the backpack. They could be used for trade too.

  Everything else was hidden under a pile of hay in the barn and I set about packing the backpack. Between the food, water, extra weapons and body armor, it was nearly splitting at the seams. The total weight had to be pushing 70 pounds. I was really beginning to wish that we had gotten a second pack so that we could split the load.

  Ten thirty is when Melissa finally herded Monica and her kids out of the house. We got them loaded up and sent on their way, finally. Hopefully she wouldn't encounter any trouble on the way to the family's hunting grounds. Once there, with any luck, she could find food and water. It may have seemed like a gamble but staying here was not possible. I was sure the men that were killed by Melissa would be missed and somebody would come looking for them. We needed to be leaving too.

  “You ready to put some more miles behind us?” I asked as I moved toward the motorcycle.

  “More than ready,” she said as she shouldered our considerably heavier backpack. I put the sling for my rifle over my head and

  carried the AK across my back and then swung my leg over the seat. It had been years since I had ridden anything like this. Melissa waited until I had stabilized the bike before she swung her leg over. Once she was settled, I fired the bike up and eased out of the driveway.

  Our route would take us through the abandoned tow
n of Rachel, across highway 375 and north on more dirt road. Our objective was only about 40 miles away. The map that we had stolen from the airstrip showed another communications relay in the ghost town of Adaven. Figuring that it was on our way, we might as well pay them a visit. Using the intelligence that Erin had given me, we wouldn't be sneaking around. We were going to drive right up to the place.

  Thursday, August 17th, 2017

  Elko, Nevada.

  “This is bullshit! I want to speak to Ray!” Pete leaned over and put his hands on the desk.

  “Pete, I have this rule about respect. It's very, very simple. You treat me with respect, I treat you with respect. You screw that up and you will regret it. Now, remove your hands from my desk, lower your voice and step back. There is no need to yell in here,” Braden said as he removed

  the knife from the desktop. He pulled a

  bandanna from his pants pocket and began to wipe the blade with it, all the while he held Pete's stare.

  “Get Ray on the radio right now or I swear I'll....” Pete started.

  “You three, wait in the hall, please. Pete and I have some things to discuss,” Braden said as he stood from the chair. After a moment’s hesitation they headed for the door. Braden followed them and closed the door again. When he turned around Pete was holding the suppressed handgun and had it leveled at Braden. Braden didn't even flinch. He slowly began to walk toward Pete.

  “Here's the problem with hostile takeovers, Pete,” Braden began. “I come in here and try to treat you nice. I'm not here to take away your job or anything like that. I'm simply the new management and you don't like it,” their eyes were locked over the sights of the handgun. Braden was still closing the distance, ever so slowly.

  “My guess is that Ray gave you some special treatment. Did he let you keep a bigger portion of what you found? Did he let you have your way with the female captives while he looked the other way?” when Pete's stare wavered, Braden knew he had hit the right question. “So, that's it, huh?” he could see Pete's finger tightening on the trigger.

  “There is just one detail that you seemed to have over looked, Pete. I left that gun on the table as a test. I knew at least one of you wouldn't be happy with the new leadership around here. Do you really think that I'd be dumb enough to leave it loaded?” Braden asked as he took the step that put the end of the suppressor against his chest. The fear in Pete's eyes was growing. Braden put his left hand on the suppressor and pulled the gun from Pete's hand.

  “Ray may have put up with this kind of behavior from his men, I do not,” Braden’s right hand shot up and out from his waist. In his grip was the K bar knife. The blade buried in Pete's chest all the way to the hilt. Braden drove him all the way back to the wall. “Sorry, Pete. I'm terminating your employment,” Braden twisted the blade and blood poured from Pete’s punctured chest. As the man’s life ebbed away, Braden pulled the knife out and allowed Pete to slide down the wall.

  Braden wiped the knife clean with the bandanna and returned the pistol to the desk. He took a few deep breaths to settle the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins. Once he was sure that he had calmed his nerves. He opened the office door and ushered the three remaining enforcers into the room. All three stopped short when they saw Pete's body leaning against the wall.

  “I do apologize, Pete and I couldn't quite see eye to eye on how to make this merger successful,” he said as he took his seat behind the desk again.

  CHAPTER 23

  Friday, August 18th, 2017

  Southern Nevada.

  The road to Adaven wasn't that bad, save for some deep silt beds that the Harley had some trouble navigating. We finally rode into the camp a little after one in the morning and parked right by the communications truck. It was an old deuce and a half 6x6 with a military communications unit loaded into the back of it. I revved the bike a couple of times before I shut it off.

  Melissa and I sat on the bike for nearly a minute and no one came out to greet us. The lights were on inside the communications unit and the generator was running. I was beginning to get a bad feeling. I stabilized the motorcycle while Melissa dismounted and then I climbed off. Still no one to welcome us. Melissa could apparently feel it too. Her M16 was at the low ready and the safety was off. I removed mine from my back, also holding at low ready. I gave Melissa the hand signal to move toward the comm’s unit.

  There was a set of metal stairs that led up to the wide open door and light was spilling out onto the ground. I moved so that I could see inside without climbing the steps. There was one man slouching down in an office chair. His arms

  hung lifelessly on either side. He had a single bullet wound to his forehead. The exit wound removed the better part of the top and back of his head. I signaled Melissa to move toward one of the few remaining structures in the old ghost town.

  It was a rundown house from the looks of it and the front door was wide open. As I got closer, I could see a foot just inside the doorway. Again, I moved to one side to give me a better view. The body was face down on the floor, a large dark stain covered most of the persons back. I edged closer and found two more bodies lying farther into the room. I covered Melissa as she moved in to check for signs of life. All three were very dead, shot multiple times. Melissa came back to the doorway and spoke quietly.

  “The bodies are still warm and the blood hasn't coagulated yet. This happened just before we got here,” she reported. “This guy here,” she pointed to the closest body. “Has powder burns around the bullet holes. This was point blank range.”

  “I don't see any spent casings, are there any farther in?” I asked.

  “No, no spent casings and all of the weapons these guys had are gone. Their holsters are empty and so are their mag pouches.”

  “Okay, see what you can find in the way of food and water. Make it fast, this place is

  creeping me out!” I ordered. I continued to stand watch at the doorway. Five minutes later she returned with a paper bag full of bottled water, 12 bottles total.

  “No food, but I found this. It looks like somebody beat us to the grub,” she stated.

  “I'm happy for the water. Let's get whatever fuel we can from the generator and get the hell out of here,” I said. It was almost as if that guy Murphy had been listening because we heard the generator begin to sputter. It was running out of gas. By the time we walked to 50 feet to it, it had run completely out.

  “Shit,” I cursed under my breath. “Let's see if the deuce and a half has any fuel,” I moved to the passenger side of the truck and saw that the fuel cap was off and hanging by its little chain.

  “Isn't this how horror movies start?” Melissa asked. There was no mirth in her voice.

  “Yeah and we ain't sticking around to find out who's next! Let's destroy the equipment in the truck and get the hell out of here!” I quickly moved to the back of the truck and took the steps two at a time. It was almost pitch black with no power so Melissa lit a match and held it up like a lantern. It only lasted for a few seconds

  but I found the breaker that switched the radio equipment from generator power to battery power. I flipped the big red handle up and the 12 volt lights came on.

  The first thing I did was find the fuse panel for the radios. Using the handle of my knife like a hammer, I smashed every single fuse. My next step was to cut every wire I could get my hands on, including the cables that led to the antennas. Using my foot, I kicked at the radios until they broke loose from their mounts and I threw them on the floor. Once I was satisfied that there was no way to repair them, we stepped out the door.

  “Gather me up some firewood and throw it in there,” I said, pointing into the back of the van. I jogged over to the house where the bodies were and I went inside. I found a sheet that I took back outside. I tore off a strip that was about six inches wide and started stuffing it into the fuel tank of the truck. Once it had soaked up the remaining fuel, I pulled the strip out and wrapped it around a large stick I had picked up.
>
  I used the matches to light it and threw it into the back of the truck. Melissa and I both started throwing scrap wood into it to stoke the fire. Once it was burning well on its own, Melissa donned our backpack and started to get on the bike. She stopped short and cocked her head to listen for something.

  “You hear that?” she asked. I stopped moving and listened hard. At first all I heard were crickets and the sizzling and popping of the burning truck. A second later I heard it, vehicles quickly approaching. I jumped off the bike,

  grabbed Melissa by the arm and pushed her toward the tree line, away from the road. We'd no sooner jumped behind a pinyon-juniper tree when the first truck came around the corner from the north.

  We counted eight military vehicles in the small convoy and they were running blacked out. No lights at all on the nearly moonless night. I counted two Hummers, two five-tons and four MRAP's..... The ghost crew that Major Jackson had been after. They had come from the north and were headed south, past the burning communications truck. They didn't slow at all, in fact, they were speeding up. It was almost like they expected it to be burning.....

  Friday, August 18th, 2017

  Elko

  “So, where were we?” Braden asked, putting his feet up of the corner of the desk. “Oh, yes. I remember now. You answer to me, Ray is out of the picture. If you wish to continue in my good graces and if you wish to be looked upon favorably by Adolpha, you will simply say, yes sir,

  and we can move forward. What do you say, gentlemen?” The three men were very quick to answer in the affirmative.

  “Excellent. When the three men arrive from the ranch, I want you to extend them every courtesy and assist them in transitioning back

  into their roles around here. We're gonna get this city working again!” Braden said with some excitement in his voice. Right on time, there was a knock at the office door. The three enforcers standing in front of Braden, jumped at the sound. Braden stood and walked to the door. He swung it open and allowed the members of squad 3-2, Mayor Calvert, Sheriff Watson and Harold Anders into the room. He made a show of shaking their hands and greeting all of them.