Good old-fashioned reverse logic.
A fully formed plan came to him just like that, out of nowhere. He jerked to a stop and Boxers turned.
“What’s wrong now?” Big Guy asked.
“Not a thing,” Jonathan said with a grin. “I’ve got the answer.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
Jonathan gathered the crowd into the dining room for another chat. With two of the chairs taken by Gail Bonneville and her deputy, Thomas sat on the sofa topping off the magazine he’d fired from. Stephenson and Julie took the remaining chairs while Jonathan and Boxers remained standing. Jonathan had a little speech prepared in his head, but before he could say anything, Stephenson preempted him. “I think you need to share your plan,” he said. “And tell us how we can help.” As he spoke that last sentence, he shot a glare at Julie, as if daring her to start up again.
Jonathan exchanged glances with Boxers, then leaned forward with his forearms resting on the table. “I’ve looked over the latest satellite imagery of this place, and from what I can tell, access is limited to that bridge we came over yesterday. Is that right?”
Stephenson nodded.
“You’re sure?” Jonathan pressed. “No fire roads, deer trails, hiking trails, nothing like that? Nothing where a four-wheeler can gain access?”
“I’m sure,” Stephenson said. And right away he backpedaled, “Well, I guess if you want to get into a place badly enough, there’s always a way.”
Jonathan conceded the obvious. “Of course. But we want to make it as difficult for them as possible.”
“What about the fire road on the top of the ridge?” Thomas asked.
Stephenson scowled. “That’s hardly access to the property.”
Jonathan pulled a USGS map of the area from a flap pocket
Jonathan noted the closely packed contour lines. “That’s a hell of a steep slope.”
“Have you seen the backyard?” Julie said.
Jonathan forced a smile. God, he didn’t like that woman. There was indeed a fairly steep slope to the backyard, but apparently just beyond the tree line, it went nearly vertical.
“Why isn’t the road on the map?” Boxers asked. “These things are usually pretty accurate.”
“There’s really not much to it,” Thomas said. “It’s not really even a road. More like a wide trail.”
Jonathan asked, “How do you get to it? Where does it begin and end?”
Stephenson and Thomas looked to each other for answers, then both shook their heads. “I have no idea,” Thomas said for both of them. “I’ve never hiked it from beginning to end. I only know it’s there because that’s where you end up when you go out back and start climbing.”
Jonathan turned to Stephenson. “You either?”
“Nope. I’ve probably gone a mile in each direction over the years, but I’ve never found the end. It’s in pretty rough shape.”
It was inconceivable to Jonathan that anyone could grow up here and not know. He looked to Boxers. “What do you think?”
“It’s a weakness. Our Achilles’ heel. If we had a platoon, we’d cover it. As it is, I think we have to live with it.”
Jonathan agreed. “Okay, that brings us to our various roles for when the war comes.” Julie recoiled from the term, but Jonathan didn’t back down. “The key to survival once the shooting starts is for you guys to spend as much time as possible here inside the lodge. These timbers in the walls will stop just about anything they can throw at us. They’re just about bulletproof.”
“What about the windows?” Julie asked.
“Not bulletproof,” Jonathan said. “We’re going to spend the next few hours making this as sturdy a fortress as possible. We need to block access to that bridge out there to slow them down and hopefully even keep them out. Big Guy and I will set up an ambush at that spot, so if everything goes perfectly, you won’t even have to worry about firing a shot up here.”
“Are you going to take the bridge out completely?” Stephenson asked.
Jonathan shook his head. “I think we’ll rig it, but I don’t want to blow it unless we have to. When it’s all over, it’d be nice to have a way to get out again.”
“I presume you’ll want some of us out there to help you with the ambush,” Stephenson said.
This time the head shake was vigorous. “Absolutely not. Ambushes are tricky. After the first shot, they tend to go to shit, and it’s very damn easy to kill your team members. Besides, even the best-planned ambush is a dynamic event, and with that wounded leg, you won’t be dynamic for a while. If Big Guy or I get hit, then this place becomes the Alamo. You’ll need to be here to defend it.”
“Everybody died at the Alamo,” Julie said. Ever the voice of optimism.
“So what’s next?” Thomas asked.
“Big Guy and I are going to take care of business down at the bridge and out around the house. I need you guys to practice reloading your weapons in a hurry. Over and over again. Load ’em up and then jack out the rounds and load ’em up again. You’ll be doing it for real in the dark, so make sure your hands know what to do.”
“Won’t we have tofi expose ourselves to a window to shoot?” Julie asked, another inquiry from Captain Obvious.
He didn’t bother to answer. “Steve, when you get a chance I need you to rig a lightproof space upstairs where we can monitor the satellite images without the glow providing an easy target.”
“Will do,” he said.
Jonathan stood. “Let’s get to it, then.”
“What about us?” Gail asked.
Everyone stopped; everyone turned to face them. “What about you?” Jonathan asked.
“Being quiet would be a good first step,” Boxers offered.
“We can help,” she said.
Boxers laughed. “Yeah, ‘helpful’ is exactly the vibe I’ve been getting off of you all day.”
Jesse Collier gave it a try. “We talked during your target practice. This arrangement here, with us all trussed up, makes no sense at all. Y’all are in a box. You can’t call for help, and hell is coming to pay a visit. Like it or not, we’re in the box with you, and we’re going to be in the middle of all the shooting. If these Green Brigade people you’re talking about kill you, they’re sure as hell going to kill us, too. However it comes down, you’ll be wishing you had additional hands, and here we are. It only makes sense that we’d want to help.”
Boxers laughed.
Jonathan didn’t. His eyes narrowed as he considered Jesse’s words.
“You’re not thinking of saying yes, are you, Boss?”
Jesse pressed harder. “We came here to arrest you for the crimes committed in Samson. I didn’t even want to do that, to tell the truth. Seems to me, the Patrones got what was coming to them. This fight here? We got no dog in it.”
“But you’re offering to fight with us anyway?” Stephenson asked.
“It beats getting shot while tied in a chair,” Gail said.
Jonathan gave Gail a hard look. “And what about those charges in Samson? You still intend to pursue them?”
She took a long time answering. When she did, she looked a little ill. “It’s my job,” she said. “I’ll have to.”
Jonathan smiled. His question had been a test. If she’d said she would drop the charges, he would have known that they were playing an angle-telling them what they thought they wanted to hear. He nodded to Stephenson. “Cut them loose and put them to work,” he said.
Jonathan spent an hour with Boxers on the near side of the bridge, using two-foot lengths of detonating cord to drop trees across the road. Few toys were more fun than det cord. Thomas hung around as their shadow, watching the process so carefully that Jonathan let him set the detonators. Finally, with the three of them huddled a safe distance away from the current shot, Jonathan handed Thomas the wireless trigger. “You do it,” he said.
The kid looked like he’d just gotten a bike at Christmas. “Really?”