by Warren Ray
Scar laughed. “Those little ole .50 calibers.”
Nate spoke up. “Hey, I got an idea, give this warning a bit more gravitas.”
They all waited.
“Why don’t we booby trap the place with one of them grenades.”
Winters raised an eyebrow. “Where?”
“I’d say either the front or back door,” said Nate.
“Back door, I don’t want to mess up my message,” replied Scar.
“Oh, I can help with it,” said Meeks.
Winters shrugged his shoulders and nodded.
As the three of them went into the building to set the trap, the rest of the Wisconsin volunteers got to their vehicles and left. Winters took note of how the parking lot suddenly seemed empty. He didn’t know if some of them had taken vehicles, which weren’t theirs, but he didn’t really care. The dead weren’t coming back to claim them. After a few minutes, the three saboteurs came out of the building, obviously very proud of themselves.
“It’s a thing of beauty, Captain,” said Nate.
This made Winters wince. Something, which will end up killing people, is now a thing of beauty. He guessed that maybe it was when you considered their enemy. He gave them a thumbs up and suggested they leave right away. As they turned toward their vehicles, a car sped down the street and screeched to a halt. One of the volunteers, who had left only a few minutes ago, yelled out to tell them he’d spotted Humvees coming from the north.
Winters turned and glared at Scar who assured him they'd have enough time.
Scar put his hands up. “Let’s just go, Captain.”
Chapter 28
Briggsville Wisconsin
The Humvees reached the Patriot Center and parked out on the street. The soldiers got out of their vehicles and immediately took note of the warning on the wall.
“Lieutenant Crick, go find Wakefield,” ordered Green. “I want some men around back.”
Green watched his men enter the building. He grabbed his camera and took a picture of the painted message. A moment later, a loud explosion erupted from inside the building. Everyone took cover behind the Humvees.
Crick exited the building and ran over to Green. “Major, someone booby-trapped the back door, I’ve got two KIA and another two casualties.”
“What about Wakefield?” Green asked.
“He’s not here.”
“Son-of-a-bitch.”
The officers ran back in to air their soldiers, when they reached the scene, they found men working hard to assist the wounded. The door had blown apart along with most of its frame. Shrapnel spread out damaging the inner wall and up into the ceiling tiles. The two KIA’s had taken the brunt force, while the other two, with the non-lethal injuries, had been their back up and almost out of the blast radius. However, they still needed immediate attention.
Green’s demeanor turned to anger. “Get these men loaded up, and get them back to the post.” He turned to Crick. “You and I are going after those bastards. That paint is still wet, so they can’t be too far away.”
Crick, Green, and his driver ran out of the building to their Humvee and sped out of town. A few miles later, they got onto the highway, which allowed them to pick up speed.
Lieutenant Crick raised his binoculars and made a visual confirmation. He came out of the turret. “At your ten o’clock, sir. Out in the field.”
“Sergeant, take that road up ahead.”
“Yes, sir.”
He slowed down and took a right, which took them up an incline. He stopped at the top to get his bearings. The road went to the right when they wanted to go left. Green spotted a road bordering a field. They could take it and catch up to their quarry.
“Take us into the field,” ordered Green.
After slowing down at the bottom of the hill, the sergeant veered to his left, the vehicle moved down into the ditch, bounced up on the other side, and crashed through the wire fence. The sergeant floored the pedal and headed east along the rough empty field. After bouncing along for a few minutes, they could see the convoy only a few hundred yards away.
“Lieutenant, get back up the turret and man the M2,” ordered Green.
“Yes, sir.”
“Sergeant, move us right up beside them.”
“Yes, sir.”
The tires spun up a rooster tail of dirt as the backend swerved before setting itself straight. The sergeant angled the vehicle to gradually overtake the transports and the two pickups leading the way.
They were now close enough that the drivers turned their attention to the lone Humvee running alongside them. Green glared at the men who were responsible for killing his soldiers. He wanted them dead. Green rolled down his window and took hold of his M4 carbine, while Crick stood up in the turret and ratcheted the bolt on the M2.
Green yelled out. “You ready, Crick?”
“Yes sir,” he responded as the wind whipped across his face.
They took aim and prepared to fire when the tarp over the back of one of the transports was lowered and every man in the truck pointed rifles and pistols right at Crick and Green.
Green didn’t hesitate a second. “Take cover, get us out of Dodge, Sergeant.”
The driver turned sharply as a volley of gunfire rained down on their Humvee. They ducked down from the windows as bullets pelted their armored vehicle.
“You okay, Crick?”
“I’m good, Major.”
“Let’s return the favor, Lieutenant.”
Deafening bursts from the heavy machine gun erupted from the Humvee as he fired at the trucks. Their response was in vain, as the rounds missed at that distance.
Green thought for a moment. “Lieutenant, don’t we have an AT4 in here?”
Crick came down from his perch and looked in the back.
“Got two of them.”
“Well, feel free, Lieutenant.”
Crick grabbed the pre-loaded RPG canister. He climbed back in the turret and laid the launcher on his shoulders. The Humvee bounced around making it difficult for him to get a good bead on the convoy. He decided to aim at the lead transport. He pulled the pin and squeezed the trigger. Smoke trailed behind the rocket as it closed in on the truck. The drivers of the transports saw what was coming and slammed on the brakes. The lead driver watched in amazement as the rocket passed right in front of his windshield.
Green’s face tightened up. “Damn it. C’mon Lieutenant smoke those bastards.”
Crick bent down and grabbed the last one. “It’s too friggin bumpy, can’t lock in on them. Get out ahead of them and stop, I’ll have no problem then.”
“Go, Sergeant!”
He floored the pedal, sped up ahead of the fleeing convoy, and stopped. Dust encircled them as Crick turned his body, and took aim at the transports. As he did this, he heard bullets striking the Humvee and caught sight of a pickup approaching their side.
Chapter 29
A pickup, driven by Elliott, came up fast on the parked Humvee. Scar and Meeks standing on the bed and leaning on the roll bar for balance, had M-16s pointed at the Humvee. They barreled across the dry, dusty field, out of the setting sun, which hid them from the view of the Humvee.
“Ram it,” ordered Winters.
Elliott closed in as Scar and Meeks began to fire in short bursts at the armored vehicle. They concentrated their aim on the soldier perched out of the Humvee turret holding an AT4.
Bullets ricochet off the turret getting the soldier’s attention and he dropped down into the Humvee causing him to lose his grip on the launcher. It rolled off the roof and onto the ground as they pulled away.
Scar and Meeks fired again as Elliott kept up the chase. The Humvee swerved and headed out of the field. Elliott followed suit and went after them.
Scar squatted and peered through the rear sliding window. “We won’t be able to stop them, it’s an armored vehicle.”
Winters told Elliott to keep after them to get them away from the transports. For the next mile, they contin
ued the chase, until finally letting them go and coming to a stop.
“Better to let them go, Captain. Wouldn’t be too long before they had reinforcements, and then we’d be in a world of hurt,” said Scar.
Winters turned to Elliott. “Think we can find that RPG?”
Meeks' eyes lit up. “Oh, hell yeah, be one fine addition to our small armory.”
Elliott turned around and went back to the field. A few minutes later, Meeks yelled, “Stop! We just passed it.”
Elliott backed up until he saw it in his side mirror. Meeks retrieved the prize and handed it to Scar.
Scar held it like a baby and broke out in a big grin. “Gentleman, this here is an AT4. Lightweight and quite destructive.
“It's not an RPG?” asked Meeks.
“No. Single use only.”
“Well, I'm still calling it an RPG,” said Meeks.
Scar shrugged his shoulders.
Winters turned to Elliott. “Well, let’s go catch up with the others.”
Elliott let off the brake and headed eastward to the main highway. Once on the pavement, he picked up speed, and twenty minutes later, they caught up to the transports. Winters wanted to get as far away from their pursuers as possible before they pulled over for the night.
An hour later, they pulled into an empty field and found a secure location far enough off the main road where they felt safe lighting a fire. The trucks parked in a large circle and the men disembarked. Getting out of those rough riding trucks put everyone in a better mood.
Winters' legs cramped up when his feet touched the ground. He tried working out the kinks while looking around at the men. Everyone was still pumped up with the excitement of the chase. Their animated voices reverberated as they chatted about the day’s events.
Winters hobbled off to the side still trying to work the cramps out. Elliott walked over to him and handed him a jug of water. Winters grabbed it and drank the cool liquid.
“Thank goodness Scar suggested we split up after we left. No telling what might have happened had we not,” said Elliott.
Winters didn’t respond.
“Whatcha thinking about, Cole.”
Winters took a moment. “I don’t think leaving that grenade was such a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I just think they might not have come after us had we not left them a booby-trap.”
“It must have worked pretty good.”
Winters took another sip and handed the jug back to Elliott. “Right, but think about it. They chased after us with only one vehicle, which was pretty stupid. Especially when they didn’t know what they were up against, yet they came anyway. Only someone who was very angry would throw caution to the wind and do something like that.”
“I’d imagine he was pretty pissed off.”
“Exactly. You know up until this point, we’ve only been taking out their workers.”
Elliott didn’t respond.
“It’s just that I don’t believe for a second, all those soldiers agree with what’s happening. Hell, we even left them a big ole note to leave their post, but then we turn around and leave a booby-trap.”
“Yeah, I get where you’re going with that.”
Winters’ tone changed. “Well, we’ve made it personal now and believe me I know what it is to want revenge.”
Chapter 30
Marquette County Wisconsin
Winters kept thinking about the booby-trap they had left. It was cold-hearted and had only managed to enrage their enemy who would now have more resolve to find them and return the favor.
He shouldn’t have listened to Nate. Seems every time he did, something terrible happened. He almost brought that point up to Elliott but didn’t want to risk upsetting him. Since he and Nate were lifelong friends, it also ran the risk of him thinking it was petty. He then might turn around and tell Nate.
Winters let out a heavy sigh. He wondered if he’d put too much consideration into what everybody else thought, especially the other side. He still couldn’t accept that everyone involved was against them. There had to be soldiers who disagreed with this. Americans fighting fellow Americans, how could they want to be part of this? But then how did soldiers in other countries take up arms against their own? They had to be lied to. Are American soldiers different than other soldiers? Winters pondered that for a moment. Hell, yeah. But then why are they doing this? They had to have been lied to.
After taking a couple of deep breaths, Winters turned around and walked toward the men.
He entered the camp, where everyone greeted him, with some shaking his hand. The new recruits from Wisconsin were elated that they chased off the Humvee. Winters wondered how long their enthusiasm would last once some of their friends started dying.
A roaring fire had been started and now its flames danced high into the cold night air, giving off much-needed warmth and comfort to the Shadow Patriots.
Winters began. “Alright, I’m sure we’re all thinking the same thing. And that is, we are, without a doubt, up against the damn military. It breaks my heart to no end to know that. If we don't have the support of our armed forces; then we can’t count on help from anyone.”
He looked at the faces staring at him. Some seemed as disappointed as he was. Others wore serious expressions. A few though still appeared optimistic.
“Hell, I’d like to know why they’re doing this. We may or may not find out why.” He paused for a moment. “More importantly, what are we going to do? Today we saw a lone Humvee come after us without knowing what they were up against and yet they came anyway. They were brave, arrogant and overconfident.”
Someone shouted out. “They must have thought they had us by the balls.”
At this, the men laughed and some cheered.
Someone else chipped in. “They don’t though, do they?”
Again, laughter moved through the group.
“They thought we were just a bunch of old men,” said another.
“But we are,” someone shouted out in jest.
Winters enjoyed the lightheartedness of the men. “Yes, we are, but we’re young at heart. But more importantly is the fact that we love our country, and I would wager to say most of us are willing to die for it.”
The men all nodded in agreement.
Winters continued. “We can fight them and we can win. If Washington and his men could survive Valley Forge, then there is no reason why we can’t show the same fortitude. We'll take it one day at a time and keep pushing forward till it's done.”
Winters wondered where all that came from. Definitely not Mr. Hyde, he mused to himself. The positive response he received from them gave him confidence and made him think back to what the old man said about how they saw something in him.
He walked over to where Scar stood.
Scar patted Winters on the back. “Nice speech.”
Winters nodded.
“We headed to Rockford tomorrow, Captain?” asked Scar.
Winters didn’t respond.
“It’s the nearest one from here.”
“I’m pretty sure they’ll have remaining Centers guarded by now,” said Winters.
“Maybe and maybe not.”
Winters quipped with a half smile. “Oh, like we’ll have enough time before that major got back to the Patriot Center huh?”
“Well, yeah, but had we not dilly-dallied about we’d have been okay,” said Scar.
“Ah huh.”
“Let’s at least go down and take a look. They may not have been able to round up enough extra guys for a defense yet.”
Nate interrupted. “Well, we’re not going anywhere till we can get these big trucks fueled.”
Winters turned to him. “Are they all low?”
“The ones we just took are pretty much on empty, and with all the new recruits, we need lots of supplies.”
Winters hadn’t given much thought to re-supplying and arming this growing militia. The bigger they got, the more difficult
the logistics would become.
He would also have to figure out what else to do besides shutting down the Patriot Centers. Destroying them all was out of the question, and if they wanted to have any real impact, they would have to go up against the Army or the National Police; quite possibly both. The thought made his heart skip a couple of beats because he knew if they were to engage either of those forces; then a lot of these men would die.
Chapter 31
Morning came and Winters woke to the smell of bacon frying. He thought this was the perfect aroma to start the day with. He sat up and saw one of the men with a skillet over a smoldering fire. Winters moved closer and grabbed a slice. His mouth began watering even before he took a bite. The smoky flavor of the bacon made him recall breakfast with his wife. She had always gotten up early and had everything ready for him and their daughter. She had been raised a farm girl and had picked up the habit of cooking mostly bacon and eggs from her mother. This spoiled him and the thought made him smile.
He continued to sit in a blissful state until Elliott walked up.
“Captain, one of the pickups is gone.”
“What? Where did it go?”
Elliott shrugged his shoulders.
“Who’s missing?”
“Haven’t taken a head count yet.”
“Damn. You know they could have just told us. We sure as hell can’t afford to be losing any vehicles,” said Winters shaking his head in disappointment.
Elliott surveyed the barren field. “This empty field reminds me of when I was farming. Right about now, I’d be getting ready to plant my fields. Would hardly have enough time in the day, be so busy.”
Winters waited for him to continue.
Elliott took a long pause. “What about you?”
Winters crossed his arms. “I’d be working seventy hours a week trying to get the taxes done for my boss.”
“You miss it?”
“You mean sitting at a boring desk job all day, or the stress?”
Elliott gave him a half smile.
Winters took off his hat and rubbed his forehead. “I miss going home at night.”