Devolution

by Incatnito

Disclaimer: This is a fan piece. It was not created or distrubuted for profit. The characters, situations, and music mentioned in this fic belong to their respective creators/companies/etc.


Chapter Thirty-Five


Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1255 Local

Tink watched Preston disappear into the dining room from where he was leaning against the wall. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too much longer. He wouldn't mind getting something to eat himself and he'd feel a lot better getting the Colonel back with Rabb and Singer. He still wasn't sure what he could do, but whatever he came up with would be easier if they were all together. He broke off his musing when Preston reappeared in the doorway and motioned him over.

He followed Preston into the dining room and stopped in shock. The Colonel was sprawled on the floor, her eyes closed. He looked with wide eyes at Trask who was sitting in a nearby chair, "Is she dead?"

The Reverend smiled reassuringly, "No, no, Tinker. She's just asleep." He gestured behind him and Tink noticed with a start that there were several men in dark suits on the far side of the room. "These gentlemen are going to make sure she's taken good care of. Would you be so kind as to carry the Colonel for them?"

He nodded dumbly. Oh god! He knew who these guys were. He shuffled forward and knelt down to gather the Colonel carefully in his arms. Standing up again, he looked at Trask. The Reverend motioned towards the men, "Follow them, Tinker." Tink nodded again and slowly walked across the room.

Vicinity of Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1225 Local

AJ ended the phone call and looked at his ad hoc guerrilla force. "The Feds are about twenty-five minutes out. They'll be coming in the gravel road by the storage building and they'll be in military trucks. Hopefully, whoever sees them will assume they're another shipment. What we're going to do is clear a path through the patrols and get as close to the camp as possible without raising alarms." They had been carefully mapping patrol routes and times. The militia men hadn't deviated from their routine and from what they could observe, a number of the men didn't do much more than walk and chat with each other. There was a small percentage that actually took their job seriously. AJ was hoping to get them first. Remarkably, and Tyler had shadowed a patrol almost from start to finish, they didn't check in with anyone while they were out.

The part of the plan AJ didn't like was that the assault would come in from only one side. Unfortunately, they just didn't have the manpower to coordinate a pincer movement. That meant there was a good chance they'd miss half these guys. The random factor was going to be a lot higher than he'd like. Of course, his primary goal was to get his people back and in one piece. They'd just have to deal with the chaos. AJ sighed a little, he'd done his best to impress upon SA Ramos the necessity of keeping gunplay to a minimum. He wished he knew how good their fire discipline was. He gave himself a mental shake, time to get moving.

Chegwidden looked at Walters and nodded. Then he looked at Perez and Tyler, "Gentlemen, synchronize your watches." He gave them the countdown, "All right, radios working?" There were affirmative nods, AJ had decided the benefit of coordinating their moves outweighed the possibility of being overheard on the little handhelds. He smiled grimly, "Let's go get our people back." Perez and Tyler gave brief smiles in return and headed out. AJ looked at the Gunny and raised an eyebrow, "Shall we go see the Colonel?" Walters winced slightly and nodded. They headed out as well.

Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1300 Local

Harm checked his watch again as he paced. Singer watched him, "Sir, I'm sure everything's fine. They're just eating lunch. You know what a production Trask makes out of meals."

Harm ran a hand through his hair, "Yeah, I know. I've just got the worse feeling about Mac being alone with that guy."

Singer looked at him, aghast, "You don't think he'd... "

He sighed, "No, I don't think he'd do anything like that. But the guy's crazy as a loon and that Preston is a goddamn sociopath. Mac's in no shape to defend herself."

"She's got Tink on her side, sir."

"I guess that's something, but he's unarmed. If she has any say in the matter, Mac won't let him sacrifice himself." Harm dropped onto the couch in frustration, "Dammit, how long does it take to eat lunch?" He slouched forward, staring at the floor and they lapsed into silence.

Several minutes later, Harm's head snapped up and he looked quickly at Singer. She was sitting tensely upright. "Did you hear that?" She nodded. "That's automatic weapon fire, the Feds are here!" He shot to his feet and headed for the door. He was almost there when it flew open and a wide-eyed Harper appeared, staring at him in surprise. Harm didn't hesitate, picked up speed and launched himself into the man even as Harper was bringing his weapon to bear. Harm hit him in the midsection, the momentum carried them across the hallway. Slamming into the far wall, Harm buried his shoulder in the man's solar plexus, throwing his weight into it. Harper's eyes bulged as he slid to the floor, his mouth working soundlessly. He barely registered Harm grabbing him by the shirtfront and hauling him up to smash a fist into his jaw. Harper collapsed in a heap and Harm quickly dragged him into the room.

Singer, who had followed Harm to the doorway, snatched up Harper's weapon while hurriedly checking up and down the hall. She glanced back to see the Commander trussing up the guard with the cord from the window blinds and then resumed her watch. A minute later, Harm appeared at her side. She looked at him, "We go to find the Colonel?" He nodded and Singer handed over the machine pistol. She always had a hard time controlling those types of weapons, she'd wait for a handgun. Outside, the sound of gunfire was spreading and growing. They hurried down the hallway to the dining area.

Stopping outside the door, Harm checked to make sure Singer was behind him. He put his finger to his lips and then held up three fingers. Singer nodded silently. On the count of three, Harm burst through the door, keeping low to the ground. The lone orderly who was clearing the table, dropped the dishes he was holding in surprise. In moments, Harm had closed the distance between them. He pinned the orderly to the wall with a forearm across his throat and the muzzle of the gun shoved into his ribs. "Where's Colonel MacKenzie?" he growled, an almost feral glint in his eye.

"Commander!" Singer called a warning. Harm spun with the orderly in front of him. A second orderly stood in the far doorway, looking shocked. They remained frozen, staring at each other and then the second orderly turned and bolted. With an oath, Harm took off after him, shoving the first man along in front. Singer followed, keeping an eye behind them. They paused for just a moment at the door and then Harm pushed through with the orderly screaming frantically, "Don't Shoot! Don't Shoot!"

There was a brief silence and then gunfire erupted. The orderly's body jerked spasmodically as the slugs hit. Harm returned fire in short bursts and then, just as suddenly it began, it ended. Cautiously, he let the orderly's body slip to the ground. Gesturing for Singer to keep low, he carefully moved forward into the kitchen area. There were two bodies behind the counters. The first had been hit in the chest, there was a hole the size of his fist all the way through. Swallowing, he moved to the next and stood for a second, perplexed. The second man had been hit in the back, although he had died facing the doorway. Harm looked back at the first body and realized that the man's hand must have tightened convulsively on the way down. He'd shot his own man as he died.

Harm reached down and pried the 9mm pistol from the second man's hand. Straightening, he tossed it to Singer. She looked at him and asked, "Now what?"

His hand tightening on the grip of the machine pistol, Harm said tersely, "Keep looking."

Singer was equally succinct, although the ramifications were potentially more devastating, "Where?"

Just Outside Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1250 Local

Tyler braced against a tree and tried to keep an eye on two places at once. The Federal agents had been arriving by twos and threes. Capt. Perez was dealing with them, while he kept an eye towards the camp and tried to watch the Feds, too. He'd gotten off on the wrong foot with them almost immediately. The first pair had wanted to blow his brains out, if Perez hadn't shown up, it would've gotten ugly. Then they'd turned condescending, convinced that the only reason he was still alive was because Perez was holding his hand. Consequently, he couldn't tell them anything. He was worried about Tink. These guys would take one look at the big man and start shooting, never mind finding out who he might be. Finally, he pushed off and went to find the Captain. He had an idea and he hoped Perez would be receptive.

Perez wished for a moment that his hair was little longer so he could get a better grip while tearing it out. What he wouldn't give for an equal number of Marines. He was having a hard time convincing the Asst. Special Agent in Charge that infantry tactics were called for. They had their own methods to deal with these situations and they weren't open to changes. And some of the Feds didn't like taking orders from a Jarhead, especially one that looked like a homeless wetback. His first problem had been keeping the first two Feds from shooting Tyler. They thought they'd turned the tables on a militia ambush. Then the jackasses had begun treating Tyler like he was twelve. He wondered how the Admiral was faring with his group. They were staging in two areas on the northeast side of the camp. Somehow, he didn't think the agents would be as apt to cross Chegwidden. He glanced over and saw Tyler approaching, looking rather determined. "What do you need, Pick?" he asked, ignoring the smirk on a nearby agent.

"Sir, I was wondering if you had a minute to listen to an idea I had." Tyler said quietly. Damn, Perez looked like he was ready to dismember someone.

They stepped to one side and the Captain listened intently. Tyler laid out his plans quickly and waited hopefully while Perez thought it over. Finally, he nodded, "Okay, Pick. You'd better hurry, though, we'll be moving soon. We can't delay." He watched Tyler lope off through the trees with a twinge of envy. He turned to find the ASAC standing near him.

The man nodded towards Tyler's retreating figure, "Probably a good idea to get the kid out of the way. It could get hairy during the assault."

That did it for Perez. Suddenly he was in the ASAC's face. "That OFFICER has already successfully infiltrated the militia camp twice," he flared. "He's done most of the reconnaissance that has made this operation possible. He's already saved my life once and there's no one I would rather have as my back-up!" Perez pivoted and stalked off. The assault couldn't start soon enough.

Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1300 Local

Tink followed the men out of the building, Trask and Preston trailed behind. His mind was racing, there was no way he could allow them to take the Colonel out of the camp. Once that happened, they'd never find her. If he didn't do this right, they'd both die. On the other hand, dying might be a viable option if there was no other way to keep them from taking her. What these bastards had planned would be worse than death for the Colonel.

They walked between several buildings until they came to a white cargo van. One of the men continued forward to open the doors in the back. The rest stopped and waited for Trask and Preston to catch up. Tink stopped as well. He looked down at the woman he was carrying. He was becoming increasingly worried about her. Mac's face was pale and he thought her breathing was becoming labored. He wished he knew what they had given her.

Reaching the group, Trask smiled at Tink and then turned to the apparent leader. "I believe it is time for my renumeration." The man gestured, and a fifth man got out of the passenger side of the van. He was carrying a briefcase. He walked over and Trask motioned for Preston to take it. The Reverend waited, smiling benignly, while Preston checked the contents. He raised an eyebrow and Preston nodded. Trask looked at Tink, "Take her to the van, Tinker." He turned his attention to the leader and began to chat.

Sweating, Tink made his way to the back of the van. This would be his best opportunity and it wasn't very good. He was just about to the van when a barrage of shots was heard. As all heads turned towards the sound, Tink made his move. Closing the distance to the man waiting by the van, he hauled back and kicked him hard in the ribs. Before the man had hit the ground, Tink was off and running. He headed for the buildings closest to the gunfire, trying to keep the van between himself and the others. He heard Trask yelling angrily and then the shooting began. Tink had just made the alley next to the first building when bullets splattered into the corner. He stumbled for a brief moment, it felt like someone had punched him in the back. He kept running.


Chapter Thirty-Six



Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1305 Local

Tyler had just gotten to his insertion point when he heard the shooting begin. Swearing a little under his breath, he sprinted to the back of a building. Reaching his goal, he took a quick look around. It was still clear. He could hear the gunfire growing more intense. Cautiously, he made his way to the corner and peered around. The militia camp was in an uproar. A number of men were streaming towards the shooting, weapons in hand, an equal number was obviously fleeing. All of them, it seemed, found it necessary to do everything at the top of their lungs. He'd taken off his fatigue shirt earlier, leaving his t-shirt. He didn't look much different than a lot of the men running around. Taking a deep breath, he took a firmer grip on the riotgun and joined the crowd.

No one paid any attention as he jostled his way through. He was counting on Tink's immense size to make it easier to spot him. He worked his way away from the shooting, anxiously scanning in all directions. Tyler was getting more nervous with each passing minute. He'd been positive that Tink would be relatively easy to find. Suddenly, he heard gunfire from a different quarter. Spinning towards the sound, he took off at a run. It couldn't be the Feds, which meant someone in the militia was firing at something else. Fear clutched at him, what if he had heard an execution?

He turned a corner without thinking and smacked into something solid. He landed on his back with the wind knocked out of him. Blinking, he saw a huge foot coming at him. Tyler rolled to the side, coming up with his shotgun aimed at his assailant. His mouth dropped open in surprise, "Tink!" He was even more surprised when he realized the person Tink was carrying was Colonel MacKenzie. Tink was equally amazed. Pick was the last person he expected to see. A bullet whizzing by caused them both to duck and scramble around the corner. Tyler cautiously peered back down the alleyway. Four men were pounding towards them, guns drawn and more were entering at the far end. He ducked back, chambered a round and counted to three. Throwing the shotgun to his shoulder, he pivoted into the alley and opened fire. Three rounds later, the alley was clear.

He came back around the corner to find Tink leaning against the wall. "That should slow them down for while," he said. He scanned the area nervously, "We need to find a place to hide until the Feds can secure the place."

Tink nodded wordlessly and pushed himself upright. He hurried towards a series of smaller buildings. Passing the first three, he stopped and looked at Tyler, "See if we can get in this one."

Tyler came forward and tried the door. He looked back and grinned, pushing it open. He stood aside, gesturing for Tink to go in first while he kept watch. There was still no sign of their pursuers. No doubt, they would be very cautious in their approach. With one last glance around, Tyler entered the little building. It was a small storage shed, crammed with all manner of items. He slung the riotgun over his shoulder and began pulling barrels and crates in front of the door. Tink had moved to the back, still holding the Colonel. Tyler finished up and stood for a second, surveying his handiwork. Satisfied it would slow the attackers down, he moved to the back to join Tink. He got his first good look at them. "Sweet Jesus, Tink, you both look like hell."

Tink gave him a lop-sided grin, "Nice to see you, too, Pick." He grimaced a little, "Help me get the Colonel on the ground, Pick. I don't want to drop her."

Tyler hurried forward and looked at his friend anxiously as they lowered Mac to floor, "What's wrong?"

Tink settled on floor next to Mac, "I think I took a round in the back."

"You think?! For godsakes Tink, that kind of thing usually catches a person's attention!" Tyler looked at him incredulously.

"Well, it didn't start to hurt until a little while ago. Right after you crashed into me, as a matter of fact." Tink tried an accusing stare. When he saw Tyler wasn't buying it, he sighed, "I don't think it's that bad. I'm more worried about the Colonel. They drugged her somehow and I'm beginning to think they gave her too much."

"You don't know what they gave her?" Tyler was aware, even as he asked, that it was a stupid question.

Tink contented himself with a look and then continued, "I don't think they injected it. It was just her and Trask at lunch. He'd have needed someone to hold her down or even one-handed, I think she'd have kicked his ass. They must have put it in the food or the drink." He sat thinking for a minute and then looked at his watch, "It's been eighteen minutes since they called me into the dining room and she was already out. Most of the food was gone from her plate, so she ate a full meal before it took effect." He looked at Tyler, "There hasn't been enough time for the food to fully digest."

Tyler stared at him for a long moment before his eyes got wide, "She needs to throw up the food? How's that going to happen? She's out cold." Tink continued to stare at him. Tyler stared back before squeezing his eyes shut and grimacing, "Oh man! You want me to... aw man, that's gross! She's a Lt. Colonel in the Marine Corps. She'll have my ass when she finds out! Why me?"

"You're the officer here, Mr. Pick, sir." Tink was looking insufferably smug, "I don't think this is an appropriate job for a non-com." He turned serious again, "It's gotta come up, Pick. Otherwise, I think that crap is gonna kill her. Look... it's an involuntary reflex, you probably just have to get it started."

"All right, all right, fine," Pick said miserably. "Let me find a bucket or something." He rummaged around and came up with a plastic wash basin. "Can you hold her over this with that dent in your back?"

Tink nodded, "Yeah, I think so. You'll have to hold her head though. Let me get myself braced." He scooted himself backwards until he was up against the shelves. He looked up to see Tyler eyeing him suspiciously. "What?"

"What's going on, Corporal Bell?" Tyler fixed Tink with a hard stare, although his heart was beginning to hammer in his chest.

"Sir?" Tink answered unctuously. Tyler continued to stare at him. Finally, he grimaced. Colonel MacKenzie didn't have time for this. "Okay... my legs are getting a bit numb." He hurried on, ignoring the look on Tyler's face, "Pick, there's nothing you can about this, but any more delay might kill the Colonel."

Tyler looked at him in shock.

"Pick! Dammit! I didn't rescue the Colonel and go through this, just to let her die in some friggin' little shed. Move your skinny little ass! ... Sir!" That seemed to break the spell.

Tyler blinked and then hurried over and together they positioned Mac across Tink's lap. He rocked back on his heels, nervously scrubbing his hands on his pants. At another look from Tink, he leaned forward and placed a hand on Mac's forehead. It felt cold and a little clammy. He lifted her head just enough to have her mouth open and then, taking a deep breath, stuck a finger in and pushed down at the back of her throat.

He was shocked at how fast the retching started and barely got his hand clear. After that it was a matter of waiting while she threw up an amazing amount. Tyler resolutely kept from looking, how had his mother stood this with seven kids? He'd take blood and gore any time. At last, Mac was reduced to dry heaves and then finally, she stopped and went limp. Tink pulled her back a bit, while Tyler gingerly picked up the basin. His muttered oath caught Tink's attention, "What?"

Tyler shot him a worried look, "There's blood in this. What the hell did they give her?" He walked the basin over to the barricade in front of the door and put it on top of a barrel. With a little luck, it would spill on one of the bad guys. Tyler wasn't adverse to grossing someone else out. Of course, with a little more luck, it wouldn't spill at all. He turned back and pulling her off of Tink's lap, did his best to make the Colonel as comfortable as possible. He'd found a number of canvas tarps while looking for the container earlier. They weren't the softest pillows but it was better than nothing. Finishing with Mac, he turned back to Tink, "Okay, your turn."

Just Outside Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1255 Local

The Feds had opted for a surprise assault, counting on their opponents to be unable to organize quickly enough to seriously oppose them. AJ disagreed with their estimate of the opposition. SAC Ramos was confident the militia would quickly surrender when they realized the Feds had the drop on them. After listening to Tyler's observations, Chegwidden thought Ramos was only half right. There was a hardcore group that would probably fight to the bitter end. That would turn the envisioned quick round-up into a protracted house-to-house battle.

AJ's biggest problem was the time factor. With the Feds bogged down, Trask and Koslov would have ample time to execute their prisoners and disappear into the woodwork. Even if they were eventually brought to ground, it would be improbable that they'd be held accountable for the murders. The waters would be too muddy to overcome reasonable doubt - and his people would still be dead.

That left it up to AJ and his group to try to bypass the fighting and get into the camp quickly enough to save Rabb, MacKenzie and Singer. He looked at Walters, "Call Perez. If he doesn't think they're needed any longer, have them come here. We'll be bringing up the rear on the assault and we need to make our own plans."

Perez arrived just as the Feds began to move. AJ looked at him in surprise, "Where's Tyler?"

Looking somewhere between defiant and worried, Perez said, "He's in the militia camp, sir."

AJ stared at the captain for a long moment, "He's where?"

"He was worried about Corporal Bell, sir. He thought the Feds would take one look at the Corporal and just start shooting. I agreed, Tink can look menacing when he's asleep. Tyler was confident he could slip in unnoticed and after the assault started, he'd be able to move freely in the confusion. Once he hooked up with the Corporal, they'd either lay low or try to get to Rabb, the Colonel and Lt. Singer." Perez finished and then waited a little nervously for the Admiral's reaction.

"So you took it upon yourself to support this plan without checking with me first?"

Slowly, Perez nodded, "Yes sir."

"Good work, Captain," AJ turned and gestured for the others to follow, "Come along gentlemen, let's see if we can meet up with Mr. Tyler." They fell in behind the assault wave and the next few minutes were intense. It went as Chegwidden had feared. The militia didn't get itself organized until the agents were most of the way across and then it became a building to building fight. Fortunately for the Feds, at least half the militia panicked and ran or they'd have been greatly outnumbered. The ones that were left, however, clearly intended to go down fighting.

AJ reached the side of a storage shed a little ahead of Perez and Walters. They skirted along the edge, quietly moving away from the firing and making steady progress. They were halfway between two buildings when half a dozen militia jogged around the corner. Weapons snapped up and both sides froze.

Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1318 Local


Harm stared at Singer. She was quite right, they had no idea where to start looking. Mac might or might not still be in the building and time was critical. The wrong choice could result in her death or worse, her disappearance. He was used to making life or death decisions in a split second but this was different. Harm wasn't used to being indecisive - it made him feel off-balance. Normally, even if he was unsure of the best course, he would make a decision and go. He was always confident that he'd be able to successfully deal with the consequences. Normally, he was right more often than not, but being wrong now would be devastating. Finally, he said, "We'll search the building first, it's not that big." ... God help him if he was wrong and God help Trask when he found that bastard. They were just re-entering the dining room when they heard the unmistakable sound of three shotgun blasts closely spaced.

Harm stopped in shock, "That's too close to be the Feds. Oh God... !" He turned and sprinted back to the kitchen where he'd seen a door leading outside. Singer was close behind.






Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44, Chapter 45, Chapter 46
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