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Authors: Michael Reisig

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Fiction

The New Madrid Run (31 page)

BOOK: The New Madrid Run
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Christina smiled grimly. Now drop your magazines and empty your guns.” They did as she requested. She looked at the soldier on the ground, “Okay, Ra, let him up. Back, boy.” Reluctantly, Ra moved off the corporal, who exhaled shakily and slowly rose to his feet.

“This was a mistake, lady, a big mistake on your part.”

Christina glared at him. “Personally, I think the mistake was not letting him rip your throat out, but I could fix that—Ra!”

The growl from the huge dog was enough to put the three men in full retreat.

“Okay, okay, we’re going,” said the corporal as he moved backward, “but we’ll be back.”

Christina, looking braver than she felt, stared him down.

“We’ll be here.”

By late afternoon, Turner and his group had mapped out a political battle plan to initiate after Rockford and Delta Camp were eliminated. They knew that the new Alpha Camp would also have to be dealt with, but it was staffed by fewer personnel, and they figured, with the head of the snake gone, dealing with the tail would be easier. They all agreed there was no point in delay. Cody would prepare and arm his aircraft that night. The following morning, he and Travis would attack Rockford.

Cody Joe dropped off Travis and his cherry tree after they agreed to meet at Cody’s just before dawn. As Cody Joe drove away, Christina came out of the house and, although she gave him a big hug, the look on her face told Travis something was wrong.

After a brief embrace, he held her at arm’s length. “What is it?”

“Come on in Travis, supper’s almost ready. I’ll fix you a whiskey and tell you about our little brush with the Colonel’s boys today.”

“The Colonel’s boys?”

Christina sat him down in the living room and told him about the incident with the soldiers, Carlos and Will adding to the story. When they were done, the preacher limped over and sat down noisily. “Way I figure, it’s a damned good thing we’re goin’ after them, ’cause it’s a sure bet they’d be comin’ for us real soon.”

Travis nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. But with any luck at all, by day’s end tomorrow, Rockford and his camp will be history.”

“Amen,” the preacher said. “May the Lord guide and protect you as you serve as His scythe of retribution on the wheat of the damned.”

Travis smiled. “Amen.”

CHAPTER 20

Rockford paced across the room, then turned sharply to Reynolds and his two lieutenants. “So you’ve found them, eh? Good. I want this bunch.”

“No more’n I want ’em,” Reynolds replied, lounging in the big high-backed chair by the colonel’s desk. The other men sat stiffly on a nearby leather couch.

The colonel looked out over the encampment from the picture window, dismissing Reynold’s statement. “We’ve encountered resistance before, but these people smack of professionalism. Three times you’ve had contact with them and three times they’ve made your men look like fools. This is it, Reynolds. This is where it ends.”

“You’re right there, Colonel. “They’re as good as dead.”

“No, I want them alive—or most of them alive, if at all possible. I need examples. There’ll be a public hanging. The folks around here are going to see first-hand what this kind of opposition buys. Now tell me, what intelligence information do we have on these people?”

“Well, after my men located them and reported to me, I put two sentries in the woods watching the property. They’re all there now— the big guy showed up with that Cody fellow about four that afternoon. Cody left and headed back to his place about half an hour later. We can deal with him and his boys after we finish with this bunch. I’ve got my best men standing by. I figure to hit ’em first thing tomorrow morning—surround the house and burn ’em out if necessary.”

“Right, Reynolds, but we take them alive if we can, you understand? Alive! I’m going to direct this personally. I want you and your soldiers assembled and ready at oh-six-hundred hours. All right, Captain, you’re dismissed.”

Reynolds got up and executed a shoddy salute. “Roger, Colonel. We’ll be ready.” His lieutenants stood up, snapped salutes, and followed the captain out.

Rockford clasped his hands behind his back, and stared out the window at the compound below. He suspected these people were tied to Congressman Turner somehow. They had to be if they were protecting Judge Harcourt. All along, Turner had represented the greatest threat to his control over Arkansas. The man was smart, Rockford had to give him that. He had managed to consolidate strong support among the surviving politicians, while avoiding the hit squads the colonel had sent for him.

Rockford smiled grimly. “That’s okay, Turner,” he muttered. “First I’ll get your dogs, then I’ll take you.”

When Cody returned home, he called together the people who worked on his planes with him and told them what he intended to do. He assigned part of his crew to fueling the aircraft, arming and testing the .50-caliber machine guns, and checking the plane mechanically. He and the lumberjack twins took two fifty-five-gallon drums of fuel and mixed several gallons of liquid soap into each one, creating a highly effective ersatz napalm. After achieving the right jelly-like consistency, they transferred the solution to the large wing tanks of the P51. When the wing tanks were full, they sealed them and carefully glued the dynamite blasting caps on the noses and sides of the fuel cylinders. The impact on the caps would provide sufficient detonation to set off the napalm. After sealing the tanks, they attached the lethal cylinders to the quick releases under the wings of the plane.

When they were finished, Cody stepped back, looked at the P51, and grinned. “The colonel’s gonna get a wakeup call from hell tomorrow.”

While Cody Joe worked on his plane, Travis and his people reviewed their plans for the following day. The sensei and the preacher would take Travis to Cody’s in the morning. On their way back, they would stop in town and pick up diesel fuel for the generator at the house. Carlos and Christina would stay by the CB radio at home, waiting for word from Travis. Everyone would remain armed throughout the day.

When Travis and Christina finally excused themselves for the night, Chris closed the bedroom door and pressed her back against it, looking at Travis, who stood by the bed. Her green eyes danced with the fire and the urgency of need, compounded by a clear and poignant desperation—a fear of the impending dawn and what it held for her man.

“God, I love you,” she finally said, summing up the turmoil in her heart. “If you do anything stupid, and –”

Travis moved to her and took her in his arms, kissing her hair and her neck. “You talk too much,” he said softly as he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

Dawn came sooner than Travis wanted. The new sun crested the surrounding mountains, promising a clear and cloudless late spring morning. In the chill of the early hours, they all drank a cup of coffee. There was no breakfast—no one was hungry.

The preacher and the sensei climbed into the van as Travis gave Todd a hug and ruffled his hair affectionately. “I’ll see you soon, son,” he said, for the first time using that term of endearment with the boy. “Next week we’ll go catch some more of those smallmouths.” The young man smiled bravely and hugged Travis again.

Travis knelt and gave Ra an affectionate rub on the head, then rose and turned to Will and Carlos, “Hold the fort down, you two, and keep a sharp eye out.”


Sí, Jefe
,” Carlos said.

Travis took Christina’s hands, pulled her close, and she clung to him. Then she pulled away and shook her hair back in that typical fashion of hers. “Travis Christian, get this done and get your ass back to me, you hear?”

“I love you too, Chris.”

He got into the van and they were off. Travis looked back as they pulled out of the driveway. Christina and Todd stood holding hands, watching, with Will and Carlos next to them. For a second, as he looked at them, he was hit with a wave of discomfort, like someone had splashed a few drops of cold water down his back. Travis returned to his driving and the feeling passed, but left him slightly unsettled.

“Are you all right?” the sensei asked from the seat next to him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess. Listen, I want you two to get back to the farm as quickly as you can. Drop me off, get that gas, and get back there, okay?”

The sensei nodded. “
Hei
, Travis-san. We will.”

When they reached Cody’s place, he and the plane were ready and waiting on the strip. Cody Joe, ever the showman, had on his worn flight jacket and a leather aviator’s cap, complete with goggles. With his long hair protruding from the bottom of the cap and falling across his shoulders, he looked like a cross between a small Viking and a World War II flying ace. His bright eyes danced with anticipation.

“Glad you could make it,” shouted Cody, motioning Travis with a sweep of the arm toward the foot-up on the wing. “Now let’s go bare some teeth and bite the balls off that New Provincial dog!”

Travis laughed, waved goodbye to the sensei and the preacher, then climbed onto the wing and into the specially designed rear seat of the cockpit. Cody settled into the cockpit in front of him, handing him a set of headphones. “Put these on so we can communicate while this whole thing is happening.”

In seconds, Cody had the big engine fired up. The twins removed the chocks from the wheels and a moment later the plane was rolling down the strip, engine roaring in their ears as the tail of the aircraft came up off the ground, enhancing the increasing speed.

Cody applied a little more right rudder, offsetting the asymmetrical thrust of the propeller and keeping them centered on the strip, while applying more back pressure to the controls as they reached optimum takeoff speed.

“Hang on, buddy, here we go!” he shouted as he drew the controls back and the plane leapt from the ground and streaked toward the sky. Cody took it up to three thousand feet, did a wing-over, then rolled it upright again to check the controls. He fired a quick burst from the machine guns to double-check their operation. “We’re good-to-go. Now let’s go find Rockford.”

In a plane that cruises at close to four-hundred MPH, it doesn’t take long to travel seventy miles. When they were about twenty miles from the camp they saw a small convoy of two trucks and a Jeep headed away from the compound. They debated hitting them, but it seemed too small a force to bother with. Besides, it might spoil the surprise attack on the main camp, so they flew on.

Rockford looked up as he heard the roar of the ’51, three thousand feet above him and about half a mile to the west. “Where in hell did that come from?”

“Don’t know, Colonel,” Reynolds replied. “Seems to me I heard someone in the valley owned one. I just don’t know who.”

“Find out!” Rockford snapped. “Now how much longer?”

“Maybe an hour. No more.”

***

Christina made herself busy around the house for the first hour after the men had left. Carlos and Will were outside working on the new smokehouse, something the family would need. She was doing her best to appear calm and organized for the others, especially Todd, but she was so worried she could barely concentrate. Taking a World War II fighter plane out with homemade bombs—no parachutes, no way to communicate with her if something went wrong—to attack a camp bristling with men and automatic weapons. It was idiocy! God save her from boys who never grow up and their heroic aspirations. But what was a woman to do, really, when she loved the boy?

It had been a little over two hours since the men had left. Christina was in the living room, trying to concentrate on a book. Todd and Ra lay in front of her on the floor. The dog and the boy were almost inseparable these days, but it was obvious that Todd was also fidgety, and worried. He carried the added burden of not being able to voice his concerns and exorcize his fears. He kept it all inside of him, but his eyes showed his anxiety. She looked down at him.

“They’ll be all right, Todd. He’ll be back soon.” Todd looked up at her, his soft blue eyes pleading with her to be right. Just then she heard shouting outside—and rifle fire.

Travis’ mountain could be approached only from the roadway side. The back side of the property dropped off sharply in an incline of jagged granite outcroppings surrounded by the loose soil of the mountainside. It afforded a spectacular view of the valley, but access was difficult. The woods around the front of the house had been cleared, leaving a field with a driveway to the main road in the center. The cleared area was just over a hundred yards square. Forest wrapped the edges of the field, the densest part facing the house where the driveway ran through and out to the road.

Reynolds’ men had reconnoitered the property and recognized their limitations. A frontal assault was their only option. It offered easy access and cover up to the field in front of the house. The convoy stopped on the main road and Reynolds sent in a squad to determine the immediate situation at the homestead. Rockford was furious when they returned with the report that the van was gone and the only ones who appeared to be there were the old man and the Latin, who were working on something in the yard, and the woman and a boy, seen through the windows of the house.

The colonel snapped around. “What the hell is this, Reynolds? Where are your goddamned intelligence people?”

Reynolds shrugged his shoulders. “All I know, Colonel, is that at five a.m. this morning, they were all still there, sleeping. That was the last report I got.”

“Well, the ones we wanted are gone,” the colonel shouted, then paused for composure. “Okay, all right. We’ll just make the best of the situation. Actually, this may work out better. This bunch will be easy to deal with. We’ll take ’em, then come back for the others. Split up the men. Send in two squads, one on each side of the road in the forested area. Once everyone is hidden in the woods at the periphery of the clearing, rush the compound. From the corners of the field, where the forest ends, to the house is only seventy-five meters or so. You should be able to cover that distance before the two outside know what’s going on. The woman and the boy in the house shouldn’t be any trouble. Remember, Reynolds, take them alive if you can.”

BOOK: The New Madrid Run
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