by Warren Ray
Durbin was, yet another, political appointee. His family were friends with the Stiver's and he had come with Junior to the National Police. He’d only been a Sheriff’s deputy for two years before joining the National Police.
“Should we bet on which dog will find them first?” asked Stiver.
“I said, if they’re in there.”
“Oh, they’re in there alright. Ain’t no way they got past our roadblocks.”
“Well, Junior, it seems to me, we got two bets then,” said Durbin.
“Are ya saying you’ll bet me a bottle of Jack on it?” asked Stiver
“That’s what I am saying. Jack it is.”
“Alright, now which dog you want to go with?”
“I’ll take the younger Jake, he’s a bit more anxious to please than ole Elwood.”
“Another bottle?”
“Yer on,” said Durbin putting his hand out to Junior.
Chapter 50
The Shadow Patriots had been hiking through the thick forest for two grueling days to escape the National Police. At first, the men moved swiftly, but after a day of rough terrain, they were tired. Some of them had stumbled and twisted their ankles, while others got leg cramps and various other injuries. All of which slowed them down. They had plenty of water from the endless lakes they had to walk around but were running low on food.
The demanding march took their minds off the loss of their friends back in Brainerd and also helped them bond, as any such activity tended to do. With so many new recruits, it was needed.
They were about to cross an open field when they heard a helicopter. They had been hearing the chopper off in the distance for the last couple of days. Winters tried to remember the last time he’d seen one. In the past year, other than an occasional military jet high in the sky, no one had seen any air traffic. All the airlines were out of business, anyone traveling by air was a government official, on government-owned jets.
He stood in silence and looked up into the gray sky. He noticed rain clouds were moving in, which would make it even cooler. The clap of the helicopter's rotors grew louder as it blew past the trees where they hid. Crossing the field, it flew low, circling the area, and then back in the direction it came from.
“Should we make a run across the field, Captain?” asked Elliott.
“Let's wait a bit, hate to see them come back this way. How much farther you figure?”
Elliott pulled out a map. “Not much. We’re about right here, and we need to get there. Maybe only another five miles.”
“We should send someone ahead and see if we can make contact with this guy.”
“Meeks and I’ll go,” volunteered Scar.
“Okay,” said Winters, “but you’ll need Taylor to go with ya. Where’s he at?”
Taylor lifted his canteen. “I’m right here.”
“Can you go with these guys to make contact with your friend?”
“I won’t have to walk my ass back here, will I?” he asked impatiently.
“No, we can have somebody else do that,” Winters responded looking at Scar who cracked a smile.
Once Winters had learned how Bill Taylor had sassed Major Green when they were attacked, telling Green they were just camping, he had instantly liked the man. He’d admire anyone who was facing a situation like that and could still put up a fight.
“What your friends name?”
“Peterson.”
Taylor started walking away. “Well, let’s go, boys, we ain’t getting any younger.”
Rain began to fall as the men hurried across the open field. Once they reached the protection of the woods, the advance team left the rest of the group behind.
* * * * *
Word came to Stiver late on the first day that Jake had picked up the scent. He led them to what looked like a makeshift camp. Elwood ended up getting the fix on the Shadow Patriots northern escape route.
“Jake might have found the camp, but Elwood got ‘em hot on the trail,” argued Stiver.
“Had Jake not found their camp, we’d still be holding our dicks,” retorted Durbin not wanting to lose on their bet.
“Yeah, but we’d still be at the camp were it not for Elwood. Instead, we’ve already gone fifteen miles. Hell, we’ll have those old geezers this afternoon. I mean, come on, how fast can they walk? Hell, I’m surprised we haven’t found any of them lying on the ground, dead from a heart attack.”
“You wanna double down on that, Junior?” offered Durbin.
“What? Find a dead one?”
“No, not a dead one. When. When will we find them? Today or tomorrow.”
“Please, with Jake and Elwood on the trail, we’ll have them by this evening,” said Stiver.
“I’m going to say late tomorrow afternoon, that’ll be three days. I think these geezers are a bit more motivated.”
“Okay. You’re on. We’ll call the last bet a draw, even though I think Elwood won. Still, they were in the forest, so you owe me a bottle for that one.”
Durbin gave him a dubious look.
* * * * *
Later that night, a soaking wet Winters greeted Mr. Peterson. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” he said extending his hand. Winters noticed for an old man, he moved around like a youngster. His full head of hair was white as snow and his skin was dark, giving him a striking appearance. His excellent posture made him seem taller than his five-eight frame.
“Taylor filled me in on all you’ve done, sure do wish I was a bit younger and could join you,” said Peterson.
“You look like you can handle yourself.”
“I try to stay in shape.”
“You’d be doing us a big favor if you could let us stay here for a few days. We’ve been hiking, and as you can see, we’re pretty beat.”
Peterson looked at the weary men.
Winters walked with him. “Also, we need to restock our supplies.”
“You boys have come to the right place. Between the house and the barn, I’ve got plenty of room. I can help you with the supplies too. I used to own a sporting goods store. Got some inventory left over. Once the economy collapsed, I was put out of business early on. Nobody had any money, plus I couldn’t get anything new shipped in. Whatever you want, you boys are more than welcome to it.”
They moved to the back of the house and out to the barn. As they entered, Peterson threw a tarp to the side to reveal boxes of tents and sleeping bags.
Winters looked in awe. “This is great sir.”
“You’re welcome to all of it. Got a few compound bows and some arrows in there as well.”
Winters nodded in satisfaction.
The men settled in for the night, with most dozing off as soon as they got food in their stomachs.
Winters stayed up and chatted with Mr. Peterson. He discovered he had things in common with the man. Ten years back, his wife had also died of cancer, and his kids were scattered across the country. Neither of them had any close relatives in the area. He had done three tours in Vietnam and earned a silver star and two purple hearts.
After some good conversation, Winters climbed the stairs to a guest room, to sleep in a bed for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. He lay down on the soft bed and thought he had gone to heaven. He instantly drifted off to sleep.
* * * * *
Jake and Elwood had sniffed twenty-five miles of dirt before they lost the trail in the late afternoon of the second day. A thunderstorm moved in, bringing heavy rain, and by morning had washed away any remaining scent.
Stiver pulled out a map of Minnesota and zeroed in on the route they had been on and noted the next town was Big Falls. He reported to Boxer.
Chapter 51
Big Falls Minnesota
The next morning, Winters got up and took a well-needed shower, his first in some time. The hot water cascaded down his back, soothing his aching muscles. The steady flow had such a hypnotic effect that he had to force himself to turn off the water. He was surprised the area had pow
er and wondered where it came from. He gently cleaned the scab on his wound, which was still tender to the touch. It would leave a nasty looking scar but otherwise was well on the way to healing.
The shower put him in a good mood, which improved, even more, when he thought about how lucky they were to have made their escape yesterday. He felt even luckier to have a safe place where they could relax and recuperate from their long march. Since the farmhouse was out away from town, he figured they would have a few days to rest.
He dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen.
Mr. Peterson looked up from the stove. “Morning Cole, a couple of your boys went out on an early morning hunt and got themselves a buck with one of my bows. Got it cooking over a fire.”
“Really, that’s great. Who was it?”
He shook his head. “Don’t remember their names, big fella, kind of funny, him and his friend. They’re the ones who came in first with Bill.”
“That would be Scar and Meeks.”
“Yeah, that’s them.”
Winters moved to the stove. “What are we cooking here?”
“Oatmeal, I got quite a bit of this stuff left over from my store.”
“Wow, I can’t thank you enough, sir.”
Mr. Peterson stopped stirring and looked at Winters with a thoughtful expression. “There’s no need to thank me. What you guys have done and are doing…can never be repaid, by anyone.”
Scar walked in from outside. “Morning, Captain.”
Mr. Peterson glanced over. “There he is.”
“What did I do?” Scar asked putting his hands up.
Winters smiled. “Morning, Scar, heard you and Meeks took down a buck.”
Scar laughed. “Yeah, I’ve got to give credit to Meeks on that one. Even with his little flesh wound, he’s a hell of a shot with a bow.”
They all walked outside. Scar carried the large pot of oatmeal, while Winters brought out sleeves of plastic cups and spoons.
Most of the men had gathered around the fire, where the deer was cooking on a spit. Winters noticed the men looked to be in better spirits than when they arrived. Amazing what a good night’s sleep could do for a person. They chatted aloud, some offering culinary advice, while others talked of their own past hunting trips. It would appear they had put Brainerd behind them.
Meeks, who was supervising the cooking of his prized buck, looked up and waved to Winters, as he approached.
He greeted the men at the fire and acknowledged the others, who stood around in groups. He participated in the friendly banter and listened, for probably the hundredth time, Meeks relating the details of his early morning hunt with Scar.
The Shadow Patriots gladly took advantage of the hospitality Mr. Peterson offered. They took hot showers, washed their clothes, listened to music, read books, and rested their weary bodies. Some sat by themselves, or in small cliques, while others enjoyed the camaraderie of the larger group.
Winters could not be any more pleased with their stay at the farm. It felt like they were on vacation. He just hoped staying here wouldn’t put them, and Mr. Peterson, at risk.
Chapter 52
St Paul Minnesota
Boxer paced the floor of his office attempting to compose the verbiage he would use when reporting the loss of the rebel’s trail to Reed. He knew Reed would kick the info up to Perozzi. He would have to word it carefully; otherwise, he’d risk losing his position and fall from their grace. If this happened, it would never be the same when he got back to Washington, if he got back. Knowing Reed, he’d leave him out here in the wilderness.
The ring from his phone snapped him back. He reached for the phone and answered it.
“Yes.”
“Commandant, we just got a report from our station up Big Falls,” said his assistant.
“Go on.”
“We did as you asked and checked the power usage in the area. We found an immediate and considerable increase on a farm north of town.”
The years before the collapse of the economy, the government had taken control of the utilities and regulated all power usage. The power companies did this by installing smart meters in every home and business. This also turned out to be a great way to monitor any unusual activity in a particular house.
“How unusual?” asked Boxer.
“More than double the normal use,” he replied.
“Now that is interesting. Get me Stiver.”
Five minutes later, the phone rang in his office. He grabbed the receiver and answered. “Boxer.”
“You wanted to talk to me?” asked Stiver.
“I just received a report from the NP station in Big Falls, seems there’s a significant increase in power usage out on a farm. I want you to go check it out immediately.”
Lieutenant Stiver arrived at the farm late in the afternoon with twenty of his men and had more coming in. They parked their cars down the road and crept into the woods that ran parallel to the long driveway.
He had them spread out southeast of the property line. This gave them a clear view of the house and the barn behind it.
Stiver surveyed the farmhouse through a pair of binoculars. He spied men walking around the grounds, going in and out of the barn and a small group sitting by a fire. With a satisfactory look on his face, he gave the signal.
They opened fire.
Chapter 53
Big Falls Minnesota
The Shadow Patriots were enjoying their day of relaxation at the Peterson farm. The day had turned out to be a beautiful spring day, with not a cloud in the sky. The rain had stopped early in the night and now a cool breeze blew across the farm. Some of the men were taking naps in the barn to avoid the chill.
Winters stood in the kitchen with Nate and Mr. Peterson, heating water for soup, when the gunfire started. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at each other’s alarmed expression. They dashed into the living room, which faced the driveway, peeked out a window, and saw the cops hiding in the woods.
Pandemonium set in as gunfire rained down on the Shadow Patriots. Everyone took off in different directions taking cover. Some ran inside the house, most others to the barn. It took only a moment before everyone had grabbed his weapon and started returning fire.
Winters took hold of Nate’s arm. “Go find out where everyone is and get back here.”
“You got it, Captain.”
He turned to Mr. Peterson. “Go to the back entrance and wait for me.”
Winters ran upstairs to the second floor to get a better view and looked out a window to get a better view. He saw how their situation would continue to deteriorate if they didn’t leave right away. Besides the cops firing at them from the woods, he noticed more cars coming up the country highway.
He ran back downstairs and found Scar and Meeks firing from the back entryway. “We need to get everyone out of here. More cops are coming in.”
Scar stopped firing. “We need to get to the barn and into the woods behind it.”
Winters nodded in agreement.
Nate came running back in.
“Captain, everyone’s in the barn except Elliott and four or five others. They’re pinned down out by the fire pit.”
Winters looked at Scar.
Scar grimaced. “That’s a good thirty yards for them to run to the barn.”
Winters thought for a moment. “We still got that last grenade?”
Meeks turned his head. “In my backpack snuggled up next to our flag.”
Winters motioned him to get it.
Meeks returned holding his backpack.
Scar turned to Winters. “Meeks, Nate and I can handle the cover fire.”
“I’ll get Mr. Peterson into the barn,” said Winters.
They all hurried to the side door.
“Mr. Peterson, I’m afraid I’ve gotten you in a bit of a bind.”
Without hesitation, he responded. “I may be older than you, Cole Winters, but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”
W
inters raised his eyebrow, impressed with his attitude.
Scar instructed Meeks on the grenade, and then he and Nate bolted out and laid down a barrage of cover fire. They kept it up until Meeks came out, pulled the pin on the grenade, poised his arm back, and threw it like a football into the midst of the entrenched National Police. They ducked down and took cover. Seconds later it blew.
The grenade exploded in spectacular fashion taking out two cops and wounding several more. The blast effectively stopped them from firing while they took cover and tended their wounded.
Winters and Peterson ran to the barn, while Scar, Meeks and Nate kept up the cover fire.
Elliott and two of the others got up and ran, leaving two of their friends by the fire, dead.
Winters and Peterson reached the entrance to the barn, where they were met by Burns and Murphy, who continued firing at the cops.
“We need everyone out the back and into the woods,” he yelled.
Everyone grabbed whatever they could and moved out the back door. Winters hustled back to the front and met Elliott as he reached the doorway.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, got two dead though.”
Winters gave him a reassuring nod.
He turned to Scar. “Think you guys can cover our exit? Give us some breathing room.”
Scar nodded.
“Where we headed?” asked Elliott.
“We can only go north,” Winters responded.
“Canada?”
“How far is it Mr. Peterson?”
“Twenty miles with some open terrain.”
Chapter 54
The U.S. military dared not enter Canada. The British, at Canada’s request, had sent troops to help them protect their border, and neither side wanted a confrontation.
U.S. and British relations had been strained over the past decade and had totally dissolved once the American government nationalized. The Brits had dealt with their own problem of attempted government takeovers by foreign nationals. They forced mass deportations on those who had participated. The process had been painful with uprisings all around the country, but in the end, Great Britain had regained her sovereignty.