Shadow patriots, p.13
Shadow Patriots, page 13
“It’s not so much what they said, but how they looked. They were a different breed than people who usually staff these centers.”
“In what way, Major?”
“Well, they weren’t the typical scum, and they were much older than any of the others.”
Nunn straightened up in his chair.
A prolonged silence made Green wonder if the connection had been lost. “Colonel, you still there?”
“Major, get back to that Patriot Center as fast as you can. You find those bastards you pulled over. For whatever reason, they’re the ones trying to stop our operation by killing our staff.”
“Yes, sir,” said Green.
“I’ll call Wakefield and warn him,” said Nunn.
Chapter 34
Rock Island Illinois
This news solidified what Colonel Nunn had suspected. These Patriot Center workers weren’t running off but were being killed. It had to be the volunteers doing it.
Colonel Nunn hung up the phone after putting Wakefield on high alert. He told him to trust no one until Major Green arrived.
Nunn opened the bottom drawer of the desk and took out his bottle of Scotch. He reached for an empty glass and poured himself a larger amount than usual. The smoky aroma hit his nostrils before he finished the pour. After setting the bottle down, he raised the glass and took a sip. He then leaned back in his chair as he thought about the situation.
Someone must have caught wind of their actual operation and was trying to shut it down. This meant they took out three of the nine locations and more than likely recruited a fair number of men. For all practical purposes, they were out of business in those three areas. The best thing he could do was to find these men before they hit the remaining centers.
Operation Wildflower—more like Operation Wilting Flower, he snickered to himself. He glanced at his watch and decided to call his boss. He finished his drink before picking up the phone and dialing the number.
“Director Reed’s office,” his assistant answered.
“This is Colonel Nunn.”
“One moment,” came the response.
A couple of minutes passed before Reed picked up the phone. “Colonel, what’s the good word?”
“We’ve got a problem.”
“What kind of problem, Colonel?”
“The exact problem we wanted to avoid.”
“Someone is aware of what we're doing.”
“Oh, it’s worse. I think we’ve got ourselves a rebellion.” He filled him in on his conversation with Major Green.
“You’ve lost a third of your Patriot Centers?” asked an astonished Reed.
“For all practical purposes, yes.”
“Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea not to tell Green about Operation Wildflower.”
“Maybe so, but he's not an individual who would have voluntarily been involved in this operation.”
“Well, in light of what’s happening, he’ll need to be informed, don’t you think?”
“Eventually.”
“How do you think he’ll respond?”
“I can handle Major Green. It won’t matter much because he’s participated in these killings whether he likes it or not. Albeit from the sidelines, but his records will disclose his involvement in Operation Wildflower.”
“I knew there was a reason I wanted you on our team. Listen, I’m sending someone out there to give you a hand.”
“Who?”
“Commandant Boxer.”
Nunn scoffed. Boxer was the last person he wanted to deal with.
Chapter 35
Winters gave in to Scar’s suggestion that they would have time to take out the Wisconsin Patriot Center before Green got back. They all headed into the woods to pick up the Wisconsin volunteers, and the first thing they noticed were three dead bodies on the ground with the volunteers standing around them.
“What the hell happened?” asked Winters staring at the bloodied dead men.
No one answered.
“Who are those guys? Where are the prisoners?” he continued.
The men stood still. Scar walked over to the dead men and rolled one of them over. The man’s skull was caved in and was unrecognizable. Scar squatted down and put his finger on an earring hanging off a piece of flesh.
“These are the prisoners, Captain.”
Winters yelled out. “Would someone mind telling me how this happened?”
“They killed our friends,” a voice finally spoke up.
“Yeah, my cousin came through here last week. They deserved to die,” yelled one of the men who Winters had been afraid might be inspired to take matters into his own hands.
“So, you decided to start beating the men?” asked Winters.
“No, we were only asking them questions about what you said, and they wouldn’t answer. So, we started roughing them up a little, and things got out of control.”
Winters threw up his hands in anger and walked away from them.
Elliott came up alongside him. “Captain, don’t go off on them. Remember how angry you were when your friends got killed.”
“Yes, but prisoners?”
“Cole, I know, and I’m with you, but all of this is new to them. Hell, it’s new to all of us.”
Winters stopped and took a deep breath. Not wanting an argument, he decided to give them a pass.
He returned to the men and explained the plan. “We’ll get you guys back to the Patriot Center, and then you can decide what you want to do. You can either join us or go home and spread the word, so no one else shows up at this place, which is just as important,” said Winters laying the last bit on thick. After the murder of the prisoners, he didn’t really want these men to join them.
With everyone loaded in the trucks, they headed to the Patriot Center. They would have to hurry if they wanted to get these Wisconsin men on their way before Major Green returned.
Winters stared out the side window, thinking about the day. He was impressed with Scar and how bold he had been walking up to those guards. Winters wondered if the man was that confident or was it merely a good front.
Winters' own nerves had about done him in as he walked up to Scar and those guards. Meeting your enemy face-to-face had been more nerve-wracking than sneaking up on a sleeping drunk adversary.
He was also impressed with Elliott and how he handled himself when confronted by the major. He had been pretty calm and collected, which was quite a change from when they had pulled into the Iowa Patriot Center, where he had been nervous and unsure of himself. He figured they’d all get better as they went along.
Winters began thinking about the dead prisoners and how they were murdered. Being associated with such an act made him uneasy, but then again, these same prisoners would be dead had the Shadow Patriots attacked them at the drop-off location.
Winters shifted in his seat at the easy rationalization. Amazing the lengths the mind will go through to justify one’s actions. First, he justified the killing at the train station because they needed to be stopped. Now he had done some mental gymnastics on murdering prisoners. He adjusted his hat while contemplating how much he would change over the coming weeks and what he would morph into. Would he be any different than the workers at the Patriot Centers? A lump formed in his throat at the notion.
He forced his mind off the subject and thought about what the old man had said regarding the government throwing everything at them, which will be the case now that the Army knew they existed. It would get much worse for the Shadow Patriots. They were nothing but a disorganized group of old men who couldn’t even stop prisoners from being murdered.
They reached the town where the Patriot Center was located. As planned, all the pickup trucks pulled over and allowed the transport trucks to continue into town. When the three transports pulled into the parking lot, Winters wasn’t too surprised that no one was outside to greet them. He figured the major called and told them to get out of here.
The men dismounted and maneuvered their way around all the vehicles, which cluttered the parking lot. They walked in and found no one inside.
Elliott turned to Winters. “Well, where do you suppose they all went, Captain?”
Meeks’ face lit up. “Oh hell, these pansies skipped out of here.”
“They probably got a call from that major,” said Winters.
“Here come the others,” said Elliott seeing the pickups full of the Wisconsin volunteers coming toward them.
“I’m kind of hoping these Wisconsin guys don’t stick around. No offense,” said Winters turning to Burns and Murphy, their newest recruits from Wisconsin.
Burns replied. “None taken. We don’t even know them. We’re not from here.”
“Where you guys from?” asked Scar.
“Chicago,” said Murphy. “We left as soon as the first dirty bomb went off. Kind of thought there’d be a lot more of those being deployed.”
Burns added. “Yeah, so we came here. Figured it’d be safer.”
The vehicles pulled up and parked on the street, and immediately the men poured out. Some of them walked straight to their vehicles, got in and took off. Others came up and asked to join the Shadow Patriots, acknowledging they disagreed with what had happened.
“We’re gonna need a couple of those transports, Captain,” said Elliott.
Winters nodded.
Meeks snapped his fingers. “Captain, I’ve got a great idea. Now that they know who we are, why don’t we leave them a message? Give them a little something to think about. Maybe even change a mind or two.”
“Like what?” asked Winters in a skeptical tone.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, turning to Scar. “But I’m sure my good friend could come up with a little something.”
Scar stood thinking for a few seconds. “What about we write it on the wall outside, so everyone can read it. Meeks, go see if you can find some spray paint.”
Scar sat down at the desk and, within a few minutes, had the message completed.
“We found some paint,” said an excited Meeks coming around from the back. “Got ourselves a can of gloss black, and look what else we found.”
“What?” asked Scar.
Meeks held up a couple of grenades.
Scar reached out to grab one. “Oh, hell yeah, look at those babies. I haven’t seen one of these since I was in the Corps.”
“Did you come up with something to write?” asked Meeks.
“You might say that,” he handed the paper to Winters, who read it approvingly. He gave it back to Scar.
Meeks tried to contain himself. “Let me see. It was my idea.”
“Hold on a minute,” said Scar as he exited the building.
Meeks shook the paint can while he followed him outside. He handed it to Scar, who went to work.
The job took several minutes to finish as Scar tried to keep the lines straight. Some of the paint ran down onto the next line, which only added character to the message. Once he finished, he stepped back to admire his handiwork.
TO THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR TAKING PART IN THE MURDER OF INNOCENT AMERICANS, WE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN. FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE FORCED TO PARTICIPATE IN THIS TREACHERY, LEAVE YOUR POST NOW. THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING, CONTINUE, AND YOU WILL FIND NO MERCY FROM US. SHADOW PATRIOTS.
Everyone gave Scar a shout-out.
Winters interrupted. “Gentlemen, we need to get out of here.”
Scar agreed. “Don’t want to take on the Army today?”
“Did you see the machine guns on those Humvees?”
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 the 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.
They went inside to set the trap as 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 saboteurs came out of the building, obviously 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.
Scar put his hands up. “Let’s just go, Captain.”
Chapter 36
The Humvees reached the Patriot Center and parked out on the street. The soldiers got out of their vehicles and stopped to read 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 inside. 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. 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.
The sergeant veered the vehicle down into the ditch, bounced up on the other side and crashed through the wire fence. He floored the pedal and headed east along the rough empty field. After bouncing along for a few minutes, they found the convoy 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 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 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. “Get us out of here, Sergeant.”
The driver turned sharply as a volley of gunfire rained down on their Humvee. They flinched as bullets pelted their armored vehicle.
“You okay, Crick?”
“I’m good, Major.”
“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 37
