Shadow patriots, p.19
Shadow Patriots, page 19
The tall man panicked. His rifle was out of reach. He rolled the young girl on top of him to use as a shield while pulling a knife out.
There wasn’t a clear shot as Winters and Scar came to them. Scar dropped to his knees and grabbed the man’s wrist. Winters reached under the girl’s waist and pulled her off of him. Scar overpowered the man and plied the knife away before shoving it into his throat.
Winters moved the girls away from the bloody scene. Other than being frightened, none had been injured.
He picked the girl’s dress up and handed it to her. “You, okay?”
She nodded as she got dressed.
“Do you have someplace we can take you?”
“We’re supposed to get across the river.”
“Is there someone waiting?”
“Pastor Stevens. When the shooting started, we got, like, separated from our youth group in the park.”
Meeks returned with everyone, and Winters instructed two of them to make sure they were reunited with their Pastor before coming back. Some of the girls gave Winters and Scar a hug and thanked them before leaving.
“Okay, let’s get into this thing and kill these bastards,” ordered Winters.
They split into three groups, with Nate, Elliott and Meeks each leading one. They spread out over a couple of blocks and took up firing positions.
Winters and Scar moved back to the building they had used earlier. They stayed on the first floor so they could shoot through the windows unobserved.
Five terrorists came out of a storefront onto the street, yelling at each other in incomprehensible gibberish.
Scar raised his rifle and squeezed off a few rounds. Two of the Jijis were hit dead center and tumbled to the ground. The sound blended in with all the other gunfire and the crackling of the fires raging through the town. The other three spent the remainder of their lives in a state of confusion. Winters joined Scar to clean things up and shot them dead. This attracted the attention of more terrorists, who began pouring out of the woodwork.
Ten, twenty, then thirty of the Jijis came running to where their five companions lay dead. They fired everywhere, aiming at nothing, but hoping to hit whomever just killed their friends.
Winters and Scar were taking too much fire to their position. They exited the building from the back and ran to the end of the block. As they turned the corner, Jijis fired at them from across the street. A window shattered, and out came an AK-47 drawing a bead on them. Scar raised his M-16, but before he could fire, the man fell out of the window courtesy of Burns. He and Murphy were making use of their sniper perch.
Another contingent of Jijis poured in from the east side of town, taking up positions against Nate and Elliott’s men. Meeks brought his squad in behind the terrorists to boxed them in.
The Shadow Patriots proceeded to rain hell down on the Jijis as they screamed at each other to get organized. They broke out storefront windows in an attempt to gain a covered position. Their wounded yelled in agony as they tried to crawl to safety.
The Shadow Patriots engaged the enemy for the next twenty minutes. They had taken them off guard and were inflicting heavy causalities. Up top, Murphy noticed the enemy’s numbers below were dwindling. He stopped firing and looked up the street. The enemy was coming at them in such numbers that they looked like a massive swarm of hornets. Blood drained from his face as a rocket came racing to their position.
Chapter 53
The grenade smashed into the left side of the building, and the ensuing explosion threw broken bricks in every direction, causing a part of the roof to collapse. Murphy had managed to throw himself onto Burns before the impact. Both men were stunned, and neither of them could hear anything. Murphy pointed to the door and shoved Burns to get him moving. They crawled on their hands and knees, tumbled through the door and down the stairs as another RPG ripped through the area they had just vacated.
Elliott and Nate ran over and helped them out of the building. Both were still dazed but managed to tell the others about the arriving reinforcements.
“Let’s get these guys back to the trucks,” shouted Elliott to his men. “Nate, go and tell the Captain what’s coming.”
Nate found Winters and Scar, “Captain, those RPGs hit where Burns and Murphy were at. They told us there’s hundreds more of the Jijis coming at us.”
Winters looked mortified. “Are they okay?”
“Yeah, Elliott’s got them, and they’re headed back to our rides.”
“Good, run over and tell Meeks to fall back. Fight another day?” said Winters looking at Scar.
Scar nodded.
“Sure as hell a lot more than two hundred men,” said Winters.
“Probably a small battalion.”
Winters tilted his head in confusion.
Scar recognized the look. “A good five hundred men.”
Winters and Scar kept firing, covering the men who were falling back. Finally, a couple of blocks up, Nate, Meeks, and his squad were also retreating. They reached the corner of a building, but the heavy fire kept them pinned down.
One of the guys handed Meeks the AT4. Holding it in one hand, he peeked around the corner for a quick look. A group of twelve Jijis huddled together between two buildings using the alley as cover. He signaled his men to initiate cover fire. They laid down an impenetrable barrage. Meeks shouldered the launcher and took a quick breath before flipping around the corner. He zeroed in on the target and squeezed the trigger. The rocket bolted across the street and detonated in a blinding explosion. It was a direct hit. Pieces of brick and mortar blew out onto the road. A blanket of thick, black smoke spread over the dead and out into the street.
Wasting no time, Meeks yelled for everyone to get moving. They had one more block to go before they could escape. They crossed the street as the enemy returned fire with their own RPG. It exploded into the side of the building where the last of Meeks’ men were waiting.
The concussion knocked him and Nate to the ground.
Winters ran toward them with Scar behind him.
Scar helped them up. “You guys alright?”
Winters ran to check on the other men. The thick smoke spread throughout the block, giving them needed cover. He dragged one man to safety and ran back to see the others. They were still on the ground, and upon arrival, he discovered all were dead.
Winters was shocked at the horrific scene. He had witnessed carnage back at the train station, but this was altogether different. These men were missing limbs, and their burnt skin left them unrecognizable. The unsettling scene forced a gag reflex. He turned away and clenched his jaw to suppress throwing up.
The smoke thinned out, making him a perfect target as Scar ran to him. “Captain, we need to leave now. There’s nothing we can do for them.”
Winters snapped out of it as bullets zipped past him. He ran back to the one he had dragged to safety. As he helped him up, more lead came flying down around them.
Scar laid down cover fire as they barreled across the street to the next block. Elliott and a couple of his men were on the opposite side of the street. They brazenly exposed themselves and started firing at the Jijis, giving their friends cover. They maintained the rear guard until everyone was a safe distance away before running back to the high school.
The Shadow Patriots loaded up, tore through the parking lot, up the street and finally crossed the Mississippi. Elliott and Winters brought up the rear of the escaping convoy.
They all took a right on Highway 371 and headed north. Just as Elliott had finally made the turn, Scar caught a glimpse of other vehicles coming from the west.
“Who in the hell is that?” he asked from the back seat of the SUV.
Winters reached for a pair of binoculars and tossed them to Scar. He grabbed them and turned around in his seat. “I’ll be damned.”
“Who is it?” asked Meeks.
Scar put the glasses down. “It’s the friggin National Police, and they’re coming straight for us.”
Winters shook his head. Of course, they are.
“And here they come,” grunted Scar.
Four black SUVs, with rack lights flashing and sirens screaming, raced up on their tail end. Moments later, a voice came booming through a PA system, ordering them to pull over.
Winters shook his head at the confirmation that the cops were also involved. Major Green had not lied to them. He balled his hand into a fist and slammed it against the door. He turned in his seat and motioned to the back. “They're all yours.”
“We’re on it,” said Scar slapping Meeks on the chest as he squeezed between the seats to get to the back of the big Ford Excursion.
Meeks handed him their weapons then joined him.
“Let's do a little show and tell.” Scar turned his head. “Elliott, get this glass down.”
Elliott fumbled with the buttons and, at last, found the one that controlled the back window. A strong wind blew through the SUV as the glass came down.
Scar and Meeks leaned out the open window with M-16s. As soon as they did, the lead police car slammed on the brakes. Crumpling steel bellowed in the air as the cops all rammed into the back of one another. Meeks and Scar broke out in laughter at a live showing of the Keystone Cops. This gave them some much-needed relief after losing some of their men.
“What a bunch of dumb-asses,” said Meeks trying to catch his breath.
Elliott kept the Excursion close behind the rest of the Shadow Patriots as they drove away from the devastation that had befallen the small town of Brainerd.
Winters leaned back in his seat, slumped his shoulders, and stared out the window. His mind raced, thinking about what the old man had told him—not to trust anyone involved with the government. The old man had been right. They would not be able to count on anyone for help. They were all alone.
Before now, he had found it difficult to see everyone as the enemy. He had been sure some didn’t agree with the Patriot Centers and that there was a line never to be crossed. He felt that line surely prohibited terrorists from killing innocent women and children. His faith in mankind sank to a new low.
His mood then turned to anger as he thought about the men they lost today. They fought bravely and never questioned their task. Their sacrifice saved many innocent lives. He hoped his men wouldn’t let their anger over losing their friends cause them to lose their focus because the National Police would know their approximate location.
Chapter 54
Rock Island Illinois
Commandant Boxer sat in an office he had commandeered and was fit to be tied when Lieutenant Stiver of the National Police reported what happened when he ran into the rebels.
He screamed into the phone. “What do you mean you let them go? You’re in a high-speed pursuit of the rebels, and you let them go? Explain to me why you would do such a thing.”
“They surprised us,” defended Stiver.
“Surprised you how?”
“We were trying to get them to pull over, and all of a sudden, they stuck automatic rifles out of the back window of their SUV.”
“Why didn’t you return fire?” asked Boxer in an elevated tone.
Stiver hesitated. “Well, they didn’t actually fire their weapons.”
Boxer sounded bewildered. “What?”
“They didn’t fire at us, not that it mattered because I reacted pretty quickly. I slammed on the brakes and caused a four-car pileup.”
“I’m dealing with idiots,” said Boxer, not bothering to ask if anyone was hurt.
“We were kind of lucky, though. I mean, if they had wanted to, they could have taken us out, but they didn’t, so that was good.”
Boxer ignored this. “What about our friends? Did these rebels engage them?” asked Boxer.
“Yes, and they took out a bunch of them.”
“How many is a bunch?”
“Around seventy-five to a hundred. Some of their men got killed as well.”
Boxer sat silently, thinking on the other end of the line. These rebels knew about their friends from the Middle East. Not only do they know about them, but they killed a significant number as well. Reed was not going to be pleased.
“Sir, what do you want us to do?”
“Which way did you say they were headed?”
“North.”
“I want you to get everyone up there, right now. Get those roads closed. We’ll surround them and cut off any chance of escape. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Boxer threw the receiver down onto the phone's cradle, making it fly off his desk and crash to the floor. He tapped his fingers, wondering how to explain the information he had just received to his superiors. There was no point in trying to keep the news from them, as they’d find out soon enough. It’d be better for him to report accurately now than to get a call later and have to explain himself.
He rose out of his chair, picked the phone up off the floor, and set it back on the desk. He lifted the receiver and dialed his boss, Lawrence Reed.
Reed’s secretary answered and put him on hold.
He used the wait time to compose himself.
“Commandant, how’s it going out there in the Midwest?”
“You mean besides missing a good bourbon and a steak dinner,” he tried to sound upbeat.
“You just left here. Didn’t you have some steaks shipped out there?”
“I did, but it’s not the same out here in no man’s land. I’d much rather be sitting at the Four Seasons enjoying a fine martini served by an even finer waitress.”
“I’ll give you that. You deserve combat pay just for being stuck out there. So, what can I do for you?” asked Reed, not wanting to chat with Boxer all night about his woes. He, in fact, had a dinner appointment and did not want to be late.
“Our little band of rebels is still active.”
“Go on.”
“We made contact with them up in Minnesota. My men unexpectedly encountered them, but they escaped.”
“Where exactly did they run into them?”
Boxer knew this would anger him. “Up in Brainerd.”
Reed didn’t respond right away. “So, they’ve seen our friends from the Middle East?”
“Yes. They engaged them as well,” said Boxer in a lowered voice.
Reed shouted. “They engaged them? What the hell, did they kill any of them?”
“Don’t have an accurate count, but we’re probably talking close to a hundred. Some of the rebels were killed as well.”
Reed drew a long breath. “What are you going to do?”
“Well, that’s the good news. They headed north, which means they’ve put themselves into a corner. Lake Superior is to the east. They can’t drive into Canada without passing our border guards. I’ve got my men up there sealing off all the roads. They won’t be able to get far. We’ll soon be rid of them once and for all,” he finished, feeling more confident than when he first got on the phone.
“You damn well better. We can’t afford for them to know your men are in the same dammed area as our friends and not doing anything about it.”
Boxer didn’t answer.
Reed’s voice turned scratchy. “And we sure as hell can’t have these sons-of-bitches shooting at them again.”
“I understand.”
“You need Colonel Nunn’s men to get involved?”
“No, I’ve got enough in the area, with more coming in.”
Chapter 55
Cass County Minnesota
Winters woke up to a cold, dew-covered morning. The moisture from the surrounding lakes in the Chippewa National Forest had created a fog so thick it made it difficult to see anything ahead. However, the mist enabled him to send out scouts to recon the roads in relative safety.
The Shadow Patriots had arrived in their new camp last night in a bittersweet mood. They were glad to have killed a large number of the enemy, but they had lost ten of their friends.
The group is comprised of several different clusters of men, each one coming from a common area. The people in each individual group had known each other for most of their lives. So, when there was a loss, it was difficult for the group as a whole, especially within the small groups. Yesterday’s deaths had been spread out over several groups. Consequently, it affected the whole force.
All that morning, Winters could see that last night’s low morale hadn’t improved much. The casualties and the idea of terrorists raping and killing innocent women and children shocked one’s senses. To top it off, coming face to face with an enemy you only heard about in the news or had seen on TV had been a surreal experience. It remained their topic of conversation all night.
After yesterday's fiasco, Winters had noticed a little paranoia seeping into his thoughts. He looked around to observe his men, wondering if anyone was conspiring against him. As their ranks had grown, more than two-thirds never had a say in who should lead them. Even though he had scorned the position and hadn’t thought he was up to the job initially, he now felt responsible for the group and wanted to see it through.
Hearing the bullets whiz by his head had made him wonder when he’d be the one they mourned. He let out a sigh thinking it’d be a lot easier dying than watching his men die or having to watch his country fall further into despair. He took a deep breath, thinking about just how far America had fallen, with no end in sight. It was like living in a horrible nightmare, still hoping to wake up and find it nothing but a bad dream.
Winters sat on the tailgate of a truck when Elliott approached.
“Captain, Scar and the boys are back.”
“How are the roads?”
Elliott sat next to him. “Not good. Looks like they’ve got ‘em all blocked.”
Scar, Meeks, and Nate, holding coffee and power bars in their hands, walked over to complete the tactical leadership.
Winters nodded as they approached. “I take it we’re surrounded.”
