I nodded. “Why?”
We’ve got to get out of here. Now!” Danny said.
“Wait. Where’s Wooly?” I asked.
“Dead,” Cameron replied. Before I could ask how, Cameron answered. “They’re here. And they went to get the search dogs and tracking equipment set up. We don’t have much time.”
Danny added, “I’ll explain everything else later.” It was nearly dark now, and the moon had not yet come up. Danny and Cameron were starting to uncover the vehicles when we saw lights on the bridge. Crap! It was too late. We were stuck. We counted eleven vehicles crossing from Devil’s Lake to Fort Totten, and figured others had to be coming down Sully’s Hill Road. Knowing the southern end of that road was already blocked, we realized we were stuck here. We had to cover the vehicles back up, even more if possible, and hope our masking did the trick. Meanwhile, Danny and Cameron were going to have to put on their full-body wetsuits and defend as necessary from the water. I stuck my head into one of the trucks to tell them what was going on when I heard the distinct click of a gun being cocked. I glanced at Danny and Cameron as they spun, but it was already too late to defend themselves.
THIRTEEN: “On The Same Side”
Inside the bunker, Isaac watched the monitors on their surveillance system while his dad and brother napped, adjusting the light and magnification scopes to keep an eye on the people across the water. They’d stayed hidden in the vehicles all day. If they’d gotten out at all it had been on the other side because Isaac hadn’t seen a single one of them on this side. That streak was broken late in the afternoon by a fat hairy man exiting one of the vehicles. Isaac watched as he crept further and further away and eventually took off running, if you could call the jerky wobble that. Isaac woke his dad to tell him what was going on, and Wes decided to venture outside and follow the hairy man. Isaac and Sam stayed behind.
Wes lost the man for a little while, but stealth clearly wasn’t the man’s area of expertise and Wes relocated him a short while later. He was speaking loudly into a phone and Wes could clearly hear the man’s side of the conversation. “Suze, baby, shut up, will ya? I’m trying to tell you. Wooly’s alive, but I had to leave. These Afghan Nazi guys killed Brian and the others. Wooly got away. These other Americans saved my tail, but they’re cowards. It’s a couple of old farts, some cute-ass chicks, and a couple of jocks, but they’re running away. It’s embarrassing. I couldn’t get them to join me, so Wooly’s coming back alone. Ol’ Wooly’s gonna kill ’em all. Wooly’s gonna find more guys like me out there, bring them back, and we’re gonna kill ’em all.”
Afghan Nazis? Wooly? What the heck was this guy referring to? Was it possible to sound any dumber? And where was this person he was talking to on the phone? How did this idiot get reception? Wes was about to continue the pursuit when he noticed movement and saw two other men following the fat man. Wes was close to one of his hunting blinds and scampered into it. The other two men snuck by less than twenty feet from him, unaware he was there. They each carried military rifles, and he could tell for sure they were Americans now.
Wes waited until they were far enough away to crawl out of his hiding spot and make his retreat to the lodge. He heard approaching vehicles and, moments later, gunfire. No doubt his sons had picked it up too. He rapidly covered his tracks back to Sully Hill, entering the tunnel through the boulder pile. He filled Sam and Isaac in on what he’d seen, and they told him the others across the lake had heard the gunfire too and seemed to be waiting for something.
Wes tried to rehash the conversation he’d heard. The people across the water seemed innocent enough; they’d even saved that bumbling fool. Hopefully, the two men he’d seen following the fat man had escaped, but if they hadn’t, then the rest of the group across the water were going to die, too. “Any guess on how many people are over there?” he asked his boys.
“When the gunshots rang out, we saw six people get out for a minute or so, and then they all jumped back in,” Isaac replied. “Three of them were armed, one girl and two guys.” Wes began pacing, watching the screens. “And Dad…” Isaac said.
“Yeah?” Wes looked at him.
“We’re not one hundred percent certain, but we’re pretty sure we saw an American flag.” Isaac paused. “We don’t think they’re the enemy.”
“I know,” Wes agreed. “I don’t think so either.”
Wes had been pondering his next move, but now he knew what he had to do. He handed Sam a hunting rifle, grabbed his old-school M40A3 and night vision gear, and they headed out the boulder exit. They carried two-way radios in case Isaac needed to alert them. They hurried around the lake and approached the vehicles against the wind. Isaac’s voice spoke into Wes’s earpiece. “Dad, the other two are back. No sign of the fat man.”
Wes stopped and pulled Sam down to the ground with him. He whispered into the mouthpiece, “Does it look like they were followed?”
“No, Dad. But it looks like they’re getting ready to leave.” Wes contemplated his next move, and then Isaac spoke again. “Dad, there’s traffic on the bridge coming from Devil’s Lake. I count eleven sets of lights.”
Crap. Go back or go forward. “What do you think, Sam?” Wes asked.
His younger son shrugged. “We’re only a hundred yards from them now. I think we have to save them, Dad.”
Wes sighed. “Okay then. Let’s go.” They crept up on the three men standing outside the vehicles and, after looking around one last time for any more trouble, Wes cocked his gun. “Don’t move a single inch.”
The two muscular young men spun towards him, but didn’t reach for their guns. The other started to reach for his, but Sam raised his own gun. “Don’t,” Sam snapped.
“We’re not here to hurt you,” Wes spoke softly.
“That’s good,” the man without the boots on said. “Because then my sister would have to kill you both.”
Wes wasn’t about to be distracted, until he heard a female voice. “I’d put your guns down if I were you.”
“Appears we’re at an impasse, guys,” the bootless one said, hands still slightly raised. “Who are you and what do you want? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re about to be killed here, so make it quick. They’re setting up their tracking gear as we speak.”
“You guys are Americans?” Wes asked.
“For a few more minutes at least,” the other young man replied with a hint of hostility.
“Hey, we are too. And I think we can help you,” Wes said, lowering his gun and motioning for his son to do the same. He glanced at the girl behind them whose bow was still loaded and raised. “I’m Wes, and this is my son Sam. We live in a cabin right over there, and we saw your friend get gunned down and the troops coming. We have a place you can hide. But you have to trust us.”
The bootless one seemed to be considering his options.
“We don’t really have a better plan, Danny,” an older man said, stepping out of a vehicle and addressing the bootless one.
“Let’s go then,” Danny agreed. “Everyone grab what you can carry and follow those guys. Cameron and I will be right behind you.”
Danny shook Wes’s hand. “Thanks.”
“You got it,” Wes replied. “Hey, just in case, left of the bridge there…” He pointed through the darkness toward his cabin. “I’ve got a hunting blind cut into the hill that goes all the way under the road. We usually park our duck boat in there during the winter. If you need a place to hide between here and the cabin, that’s as good as you’ll get.”