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Chapter Thirty-Seven
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1310 Local
At a shout from one of the buyer's men, Trask turned his attention from the sound of gunfire to see Tinker running. He was already past the van and almost to the opening between the buildings. The Reverend scowled and glanced over in time to see Preston open fire. A moment later, Tinker had disappeared between the buildings. Trask stared after him, irritated, what had gotten into that oversized cretin? The head rep for the buyers was yelling and gesturing angrily at his men. All four took off after Tinker. Then he turned to Trask in disgust, "Is this how you control your men?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Or is this some elaborate ploy to keep the money and the merchandise? He indicated the briefcase in the Reverend's hand, "I will hold that until you have fulfilled your end of the bargain... if that's possible."
Trask looked at him coldly, "You impugn my honor, sir."
The man snorted derisively, "You? A man of honor? If the price is right, perhaps... "
The Reverend's face darkened, "And insult me." He held out the briefcase and glanced over his shoulder. As the man reached for it, Preston stepped forward and opened fire. Trask leaned over the body and said softly, "And there will be consequences."
Looking back at Preston, he snapped, "Get some of the men and bring Tinker back. Alive. Don't bother with Colonel MacKenzie." He paused for just a moment, "Unless you and the men would like her." It was time to cut his losses, these military people had been nothing but trouble. He hefted the briefcase, 'Well, there'd been some profit... .'
Several more of his personal guard showed up and he watched Preston disappear with them between the two buildings. Trask turned around and headed back to his headquarters. Harper should have disposed of Rabb and Singer by now. He stopped when he heard the shotgun blasts and then smiled, 'That should take care of the rest of the buyer's people.' Preston was always good at anticipating his needs.
******
AJ was first to break the tableau. Lowering his weapon, he scowled at the men, "What the hell are you doing over here? For a minute, I thought you were the Feds." Behind him, Perez and Walters lowered their weapons as well.
The man in front blinked, slowly bringing his rifle down. He exchanged guilty looks with the others in his group. "We were... we were just gonna circle around and get in behind those guys." Behind him, the other men nodded vigorously.
"I see," AJ said judiciously. "Very well, carry on."
"Yes sir!" The men tried not to look relieved as they hurried past Chegwidden and his people.
Walters waited until they had disappeared around the far corner before looking over at AJ, "Thank god for desserters, sir."
"Yeah," AJ replied, "With a little luck, maybe we can encourage the whole damn camp." He continued along the alleyway, trailed by Perez with Walters acting as the rearguard. When they reached the corner, he stopped and motioned the others to come up and join him. The main thoroughfare of the militia camp looked like a disturbed anthill. No one paid them any attention. AJ looked over at Perez, "Did Tyler know where the main headquarters building was located?"
Perez shook his head. "No, the only place he knew for sure was the mess hall. That was relatively easy to spot, but I don't think he had time to check out anything else. He probably figured that once he found Cpl. Bell, Tink could tell him where they needed to go."
AJ thought for a moment, "Trask is the guy that's in charge of the militia?"
Perez nodded, "Reverend Trask."
Chegwidden stalked out into the crowd and grabbed the arm of one the men hurrying past. Before the man could protest, AJ was in his face, "Where the hell is Reverend Trask? I need to talk to him. Now."
The man glared at him in annoyance, "How in the sam hill would I know? He's sure as hell not where the fighting is going on." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "Probably havin' his afternoon tea and doesn't want to be disturbed. Good luck gettin' past that lunatic watchdog, Preston." He yanked his arm out of AJ's grasp and took off. Chegwidden glanced back at Walters and Perez and then headed in the direction the man had indicated.
They hadn't gotten very far when the sound of a shotgun went off somewhere ahead and to their right. All three froze for a moment while the scurrying crowd of militia surged around them, and then took off at a run. They slowed down as they approached a series of small buildings. Reaching the first one, they cautiously moved to a corner and peered around. Seeing it was clear, AJ motioned Perez to take the point. Nodding, the captain carefully made his way down to the next corner and looked around. He gestured for the other two to join him. When they got there, he grimly jerked a thumb towards the corner, "I found the recipients of the shotgun blasts." He looked at AJ, "Tyler was armed with a riotgun. This could be him."
AJ peered around the corner and then yanked his head back. "Company's coming this way. They're not ours." They retreated back to a different building and carefully took up watch. There were seven men altogether, armed with automatic weapons and shotguns. Apparently they were equally wary about whoever they were hunting, their approach was excruciatingly slow. Finally they gained the corner where AJ, Perez and Walters had just been.
They milled about uncertainly, seemingly unwilling to look further. That changed when an eighth man joined them. Obviously in charge, he growled orders at them and they split into two groups and headed towards a line of small, windowless buildings. AJ exchanged glances with the others and they drifted quietly after the militia men.
Storage Shed
Militia Camp
1330 Local
"My turn?" Tink said, looking leery.
Tyler glared at him, "Your turn. Don't whine."
Tink looked indignant, "I'm not whining. I'm just apprehensive. You're the backwoods country boy. How do I know you're not going to something weird like make me wear garlic or tie a string on my foot and recite the Gettysburg Address?"
"Bite your tongue," Tyler said with a mock scowl. "Besides, you ignorant Yankee, garlic is for repelling vampires and a string on your toe's for toothache. Now let me see your back."
Grudgingly, Tink turned a little and leaned forward. He focused on the Colonel while Tyler pulled his shirt away. She was still pale and her breathing labored. They needed to get medical help for her and himself as well. He wasn't about to say anything to Tyler; the ensign had enough on his mind, but the numbness seemed to be growing stronger. It was scaring the hell out of him.
Taking a breath, Tyler raised the shirt out of the way and took his first look. It wasn't what he was expecting, just a small, round hole with a minimal amount of blood. It already seemed to be clotting. Looking at the thick slabs of muscle across Tink's back, Tyler decided that the real surprise was that the bullet hadn't just bounced off. The entry didn't seem to be close to the spine, but God knows where it had gone after it hit. He gave himself a mental slap, of course he knew where it went, Tink said his legs were numb. That statement had scared him almost as much as the Colonel's condition. Adding to the stress was the fact that the men searching for them were going to find them sooner or later. It was just a process of elimination. He winced to himself, that was a poor choice of words.
Dropping Tink's shirt back down, Tyler said lightly, "Well, at least, the bleeding seems to have quit; but I think there's swelling where the bullet finally stopped. You should be happy I can't find any hog manure to put in your left shoe... "
Tink squeezed his eyes shut as he eased back against the shelf again. "I'm pretty sure that's about all I want to hear... where the hell do you get this stuff?"
Tyler chuckled, "Mostly my Great-Aunt Etta June. You haven't lived until you've gotten to wear a rhubarb root around your neck to ward off stomach aches. Life was never dull when we visited her."
A thump at the door of the shed brought their conversation to an abrupt halt. "Son of a bitch! Get down, Tink!" Tyler snapped as he grabbed the riotgun and scrambled to one side.
Outside, they heard a voice calling, "Tinker! You and whoever's in there with you, come out, there's nowhere for you to go!"
Tink glanced over at Tyler and then raised his voice, "No! You'll shoot me!"
The voice turned cajoling, "Aww c'mon Tinker, the Reverend just wants to talk to you. He's not that mad."
"He's not?" Tink paused a moment, "What about Colonel MacKenzie? I don't like those men."
"You can bring her out, too. Rev. Trask didn't like those men either, Tinker, and he likes having to wait even less. Now who else is in there?"
"It's just me and the Colonel."
"Don't lie to me, Tinker. Somebody's helping you. Somebody killed those men."
"I don't know who he was. I ran into him and knocked him down. He was really mad and then those guys showed up and started shooting. He hauled off and started firing that shotgun he was carrying. So I took off."
There was a slight pause, "Come out Tinker. I'm losing patience."
Tink looked over at Tyler again. He had stalled about as long as he could. Tyler nodded and then gestured to the floor while raising an eyebrow. Tink nodded back and carefully rolled down onto his side. He raised his voice again, "No! Go away!"
"All right, Tinker. I warned you." There was silence for a few brief seconds and then a barrage of shots hit the shed. The two men hugged the floor as the shooting continued. Finally, it came to a halt. Ears ringing, Tyler watched as the door was slowly forced open. He waited a few more seconds and then popped up and blew a hole right through the door and whoever was pushing it open. He heard the screams and obscenities as he fired two more rounds. Then the return fire started, heavier than before. Hugging the floor again, he exchanged a look with Tink. It was just a matter of time. The makeshift barricade wouldn't withstand this kind of fire for very long.
The fire increased in intensity and then inexplicably began to slacken. There was yelling and cursing and then that too died away. In the silence, Tyler looked at Tink again and shrugged, gripping his riotgun a little tighter. A shadow fell across the now open doorway, "Tyler? You in there? Is anyone hurt?"
Tyler sagged with relief at the sound of Gunny Walters' voice. He looked over at Tink, "It's the cavalry." He raised his voice as he started to sit up, "Gunny? I'm fine but the Colonel and Cpl. Bell need medical attention."
There was a muttered expletive and then an 'Excuse me, sir.' A moment later, Admiral Chegwidden pushed his way into the shed. "Tyler?"
"Over here, sir," Tyler called. He moved over to give Tink a hand. The big man was trying to get himself back to sitting upright. Tyler looked at him in concern, "You probably should have stayed down. I don't think moving like that is a good idea."
"Why is that, Mr. Tyler?" The sound of Chegwidden's voice behind him made him jump.
Tyler whirled around to see the Admiral kneeling down near Colonel MacKenzie. He was looking at Tink and himself. Ignoring the warning growl from Tink, he said, "Cpl. Bell took a round in the back getting the Colonel away. Now his legs are numb."
AJ raised an eyebrow, "You didn't think anyone would notice, Corporal?"
Tink flushed a little, "It's not like there's anything that can be done about it, sir. Not here, anyway, and it really doesn't hurt very much. I was more worried about the Colonel." He gestured towards Mac, "I don't think those idiots knew what they were doing and gave her too much of whatever it was they drugged her with. Ensign Tyler got her to throw up a lot of it but she's still pretty sick. Right now, it seems like the only improvement is that she hasn't gotten worse." Tink trailed off uncertainly, suddenly aware he'd been running off at the mouth with a two-star.
AJ looked down at Mac, brushing her hair back before resting a hand lightly on her forehead. She barely stirred. He scowled and looked at the two young men, "The short version - what the hell happened?"
The two exchanged glances and then Tink cleared his throat, "Sir, it started when Reverend Trask requested the Colonel join him for lunch. I went with her to help her get to the dining room."
"She couldn't walk on her own?" the Admiral interrupted.
"Well, yes sir, she could but Cmdr. Rabb made them think she needed help. He knew I was one of the guards and he wanted to make sure she wouldn't be alone." The Admiral nodded, and Tink continued, "Preston called me in about an hour later, the Colonel was unconscious. There were some men in business suits at the far end of the room. That bastard... excuse me, sir... Trask had sold her to them. I was told to carry the Colonel to their van. When the shooting started, I just kept going. Then I ran into to Tyler and we wound up hiding in here. We figured they must have drugged her food or drink because we didn't think she'd go down without a fight."
"Admiral?" Perez appeared in the doorway, "I think we need to move to a new location, one of them got away." His eyebrows rose as he finally took in the scene in front of him, "Son of a bitch!"
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1320 Local
Harm stopped at the door leading outside. For all the speed records he broke sprinting to that point, he wasn't so lost to common sense that he would charge into hostile territory without a careful look. Singer caught up and then breathed a sigh of relief. Harm arched an eyebrow at her. She looked a little sheepish and said quietly, "I was afraid you'd keep going, sir. I'd never be able keep up."
He raised both eyebrows. "I try to make a point of not outrunning my back-up, Lieutenant. Most of the time anyway," he said with a small smile. He gestured for her to stay low and cautiously opened the door a crack. After satisfying himself it was clear, the two cautiously made their way outside. Staying close to the building, they moved to a corner. Harm looked over at Singer, "Could you tell what direction the shotgun came from?"
She thought about it for a moment and then shrugged, "I couldn't say for sure, sir." She pointed to the left of the building they were alongside, "Maybe over there?"
Harm nodded, "That's what I was thinking, too." He peered around the corner and signaled 'all clear'. Together they hustled to the next small building and again, worked their way to a corner. Harm carefully looked down the next alleyway and then quickly pulled his head back. "It's Trask!" he hissed to Lauren. He motioned for her to fall back a few steps and let Trask see her when he came around the building. Harm crouched down and waited.
Ten seconds later, the Reverend rounded the corner and stopped in shock at the sight of Lt. Singer. Before he could register anything else, Harm uncoiled and launched himself at Trask, slamming a fist into the side of his jaw. The Reverend went down on all fours and stayed there, shaking his head. The briefcase landed a few feet away. Harm glared down at him, rubbing his knuckles. That had been eminently satisfying. He looked over at Singer and motioned for her to keep watch while he went to stand in front of Trask. "Where's Colonel MacKenzie?" he grated, the menace apparent in his voice.
Trask ignored him, rocking back and forth on all fours. He made no attempt to get up. Irritated, Harm nudged him with a foot, he didn't have time for the Reverend's histrionics. "Tell me where the Colonel is, you miserable son of a bitch, before I hit you again." To his infinite disgust, Trask buried his head in his arms, rocking harder and started to sob. Harm stared at the man in disbelief, he knew the guy was nuts but was he always this close to the edge? He gave a frustrated growl, it really didn't matter. He needed to find Mac.
He reached down and grabbed Trask's left shoulder, giving it a rough shake, "Where is she?!" With a surprising amount of speed, the Reverend spun towards Harm, his right hand almost a blur as he swung it in an arc towards the Commander. Harm had a brief glimpse of metal flashing as he leaped backwards. He heard the material of his fatigue shirt tear and for a split second, thought Trask had missed. The fire lancing across his midsection told him otherwise as he stumbled back, still bent over. The Reverend was on him in an instant, trying to press his advantage. Harm managed to evade the next two slashs, blocking the third earned him a cut across his forearm. He couldn't afford the time to draw his weapon and vaguely realized that Trask was keeping him positioned as a shield against Singer.
A heavy barrage of gunfire erupted not far away, distracting him and earning another cut, this one across his upper arm. He had to stop this and quickly, before Trask found an opening for a fatal blow or he collapsed from blood loss. He began to sway slightly, letting his head start to drop. He could almost feel Trask gathering himself. Harm took one stumbling step to the side and sank to one knee. Trask leaped at him, arm swinging downward for a killing blow to the back of his exposed neck.
With reflexes honed by combat, Harm shot a hand out and caught the wrist of the knifehand in a viselike grip. At the same time, he drove his other fist into the Reverend's midsection, surging to his feet to throw his body weight behind it. Trask flew backwards and hit the ground rolling. Recovering faster than Harm would have thought possible, he came up on his knees, a murderous look on his face. As he started to climb to his feet, a single gunshot rang out from behind Harm. The impact spun Trask around and he landed facedown in the dirt. He made one last attempt to rise and then was still.
Harm stayed bent over, hands braced on his knees while he got his breath back. He heard Singer walk over and then her feet appeared to one side. Turning his head to look at her, he offered a tired smile, "Nice shot, Lieutenant."
"Yes sir," she said a trifle vaguely, looking at Trask.
Harm looked at her a little more closely, "Are you all right, Lauren?"
She looked at him, "I've never killed anyone before. Shouldn't I feel something? Remorse? Guilt? I don't even feel relieved."
He straightened slowly, "It'll probably sneak up on you, Lieutenant. When it does, we can talk about it if you'd like." Harm took a cautious breath, "We need to get going."
Singer stared at him, "Are you kidding... sir?" She gestured at his midsection, "That lunatic tried to fillet you. We need to stop the bleeding or when we find the Colonel, she'll kill ME."
"It's not that bad and we're wasting time, Lieutenant," Harm said stubbornly.
Singer crossed her arms. Is this what MacKenzie put up with when they were partnered together? The Colonel had more restraint than she thought. "The sooner we take care of that, the sooner we can get going again." She gestured behind her, "The dining hall isn't that far away, we can find something for bandages and then we can go."
Harm glared at her for a long moment and then snapped, "Fine." He pivoted and headed back to the headquarters building, trying not to wince. Singer shook her head in exasperation and jogged after him. Ten minutes later, they were back on their way again. Only the cut on his forearm was probably going to need stitches. Linen napkins padded the wounds and a tablecloth tore into strips, kept everything in place. Harm begrudged every moment.
They stepped outside the kitchen again and scanned the area. The gunfire marking the Feds' advance was growing closer. Harm hurried back along their original route. He turned a corner and stopped abruptly. Lauren was hard put not to crash into him. "Sir?" she asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.
"He's gone," Harm said softly.
Lauren's mouth dropped open, she knew who 'he' was. "But... but... he's dead! I killed him!" she spluttered.
"Apparently not," Harm's gaze swept the area warily, "The briefcase is gone, too." He gave himself a small shake, "Let's go. Keep your eyes open." They backtracked along the way they'd seen Trask come. A few minutes later, they came upon the abandoned van and a body.
Singer looked at Harm, "What do you think, sir? Trask double-crossed someone?"
Harm grunted thoughtfully. For the first time, the fear he had felt for Mac was being lessened by a small ray of hope. "Or making the most of a bad situation. I think Corporal Bell and Mac got away. Come on." They carefully skirted the van and then stopped, trying to decide which way. Harm nudged Singer and pointed to the bullet holes in the side of a building. They headed down the alleyway. At the next intersection, they stopped again uncertainly. A moment later, Singer touched his arm and pointed up an alleyway. There were indeterminate lumps near the end. Cautiously, they moved in that direction.
Harm grew more tense as the stench of death became stronger. What if... Resolutely, he shoved that thought aside, he wouldn't believe anything until he saw it with his own eyes. He glanced over at Singer. She'd become noticeably paler with each step and her jaw was so tightly clenched, he thought she would crack a tooth. At last, they were close enough to see the bodies clearly. Harm also wished they weren't, shotguns did a horrific amount of damage. The good news was that it wasn't Mac or Bell. Gingerly, they made their way past. Harm paused to give Singer a hand, she was definitely looking a little green around the gills. Finally, they cleared the corner and stopped for a moment in relief.
He just caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. Grabbing Singer he shoved her down behind him as he made himself as small as possible against the building. Silently, he muttered a few choice phrases to himself - for not paying strict attention to their surroundings, for stopping at a point with relatively little cover and for not taking into account crouching down like this would hurt like hell. Trying to look everywhere at once, he motioned for Singer to back up. If they could get back around the corner, they'd have a chance.
Singer had almost made it to the corner, when a man appeared at the far end of the building. Harm brought the machine pistol up and took aim. The man just looked at them, his rifle held loosely and angled towards the ground. Harm squinted at him, the sun was behind just enough to make it difficult to make out details.
"Commander Rabb?"
Harm let out a breath, he knew that voice. "Gunny Walters?" Behind him, he heard Singer's sigh of relief. They climbed to their feet and jogged over to the Gunny. "Good to see you, Gunny." Harm said with a smile, "Is the Admiral here too? Have you seen Mac or Corporal Bell? Are you here with the Feds? Is the area secure?"
The Gunny grinned back and gestured for them to follow, "Good to see you too, sir. Yes. Yes. Sort of. No."
Despite the apparent flippancy of his answers, Harm noticed the Gunny never stopped scanning the area. Then he realized what Walters had said yes to and grabbed his arm, "You know where Mac is? Is she okay?"
Gunny slowed a bit and glanced back at Harm, "We're almost there, Commander. The Admiral's going to be glad to see you two."
The fear Harm had been carrying tightened its grip just a little more at the Gunny's evasion. He couldn't quite bring himself to voice the question ricocheting around in his brain. He'd know the answer soon enough. Although by now, he was dreading the worst, he still stopped in shock when they reached the storage shed. Singer halted beside him. He'd never seen a building with so many holes in it and still standing. It looked like they were trying to cut it in half with firepower alone. He barely noticed when a figure detached itself from the doorway.
"Commander! Lieutenant!" Tyler said happily, "Am I glad to see you!" His gaze took in Harm's appearance and his expression changed to one of concern, "Are you okay, Commander Rabb?"
Harm looked at him blankly for just a moment and then nodded slowly, "Where's Colonel MacKenzie?"
Tyler jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "The Admiral's in there with her and Tinker." He stopped speaking as Harm hurried past him into the shed. He looked at Singer, who shrugged and followed a little more slowly.
"Admiral? Mac?" Harm called quietly as he let his eyes adjust to the dimness. He heard the Admiral's 'Over here,' and quickly made his way over. He stopped briefly, taking in the scene and then knelt down next to Mac. Looking at Chegwidden and Bell, he asked tersely, "What happened?"
AJ replied quietly, "Trask drugged Mac so he could turn her over to the buyers without a fight. He may have given her too much." He motioned to Tink, "Corporal Bell was hit while escaping with her. There are med-evac choppers standing by, they'll be here as soon as the Feds can secure the camp." Chegwidden took a good look at Harm, "What the hell happened to you, Commander?"
"He ran into Reverend Trask, who had a knife hidden in his sleeve." Singer's voice came from behind them.
AJ looked over his shoulder at her and then back at Harm, who was staring at Mac, "Lieutenant, let's go outside and you can give me your report." He rose and walked out with her.
Harm sat down next to Mac and took her hand. Leaning towards her, he ignored the discomfort and ran his fingers down the side of her face. "Mac?" he said quietly, "Can you hear me? You need to fight this and wake up. C'mon Mac, quit slacking. You're going to give the Corps a bad name." He took a firmer grip on her hand, his voice growing more intense, "D'you hear me, jarhead? I know you can out-stubborn mules, now show a little grit and get off your ass. Wake up, goddammit, or I'll start listing all the reasons why women shouldn't be in the military." He froze when he felt her hand tighten briefly in his. "Mac? Sarah?" He leaned in closer, "Can you hear me?"
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