Lars would have actually preferred to have bought a couple of SIG P226 or P228 pistols to be compatible with Andy’s first pistol, but those were much more scarce than Glocks. In the new Age of Deep Schumer, beggars couldn’t be choosers. He also realized that his chances of eventually finding spare Glock magazines was much better than finding spare SIG magazines, since Glocks were made in much larger numbers.
44
Ignis
“Vengeance has no foresight.”
Ignacio was furious. He spent the hours before sunrise running from house to house, assessing the damage. He radioed his cousin Simon in Humboldt. Adding Simon’s tally, he concluded that every one of La Fuerza’s armored vehicles had been destroyed by fire. So were more than half of the pickups and vans. Further, more than half of the gang’s loot, ammo, and fuel were gone, destroyed in the fire and explosions. Some twenty-six of his men and three women had been killed. Another fifteen men had been wounded, and of those, three were not likely to live.
Only one of the men who had attacked them had been captured. He lived under torture only long enough to tell them that the raiders had originated from Prescott. Ignacio was whipped up into a genuine frenzy. He ran from truck to truck, screaming “?Bastardos! ?Venganza, venganza! ?Matenlos a todos!” (“Bastards! Vengeance, vengeance! Slaughter them all!”)
They spent the next day and a half salvaging what they could from the wrecked vehicles, and requisitioning more pickups and vans from all over Humboldt and Dewey. They ended up with an odd assortment. Several were bright colors, but that didn’t matter. They just needed enough to get all of his men to Prescott. He was going there soon, and going for blood.
Two days after the raid, they had stolen enough trucks and vans to have room for everyone to ride. Simon and Tony met with Ignacio Garcia over lunch. Simon asked, “What is the plan of operations?”
Garcia grunted: “We drive to Prescott and we burn it down.”
“That’s the plan? The entire plan?”
“Here is the entire plan: We go there, and we burn the city to the ground, and we kill everyone. I mean everyone, and their children, and their dogs and their chickens and their goats.”
Simon nodded gravely. He knew that Ignacio was still extremely angry and that he wouldn’t take any advice. So he merely echoed, “Okay, we go to Prescott tomorrow, and we kill them all.”
After a pause, Simon added: “I’ll have everyone go look for more road flares.”
45
Bug-out
“It is an uphill struggle, but I wish that we could distinguish more carefully between freedom and liberty. These conditions are not the same, though they are certainly related. Freedom is the absence of restraint-a physical circumstance. Liberty, on the other hand, is a political situation denoting the lawful capability of the citizen to defend himself and his near and dear without interference from the state. Note that the Declaration of Independence forcibly and particularly establishes the blessings of liberty upon ourselves and our posterity. I like to carry a pocket copy of the Declaration, plus the Constitution, in my travels. It is a good thing to have in hand when discussions arise.”
By Doctor K.’s count only thirty-one members of the raiding party had returned to Prescott by the next evening. And of those, only three had been slightly wounded. He said bluntly, “There’s no in-between with high-velocity rifle bullets. Its usually either something minor or you bleed out, deader than disco.”
La Fuerza didn’t arrive the next day or even the day after.
The towns of Prescott Valley and Prescott were in a state of alarm following the raid. Even though the raid was deemed a success, they had clearly stirred up a hornet’s nest. Then they heard on the CB that Prescott Valley had been bypassed and that La Fuerza was heading directly toward Prescott.
Blanca paced the bedroom. She asked Ian: “What do you think will happen? I mean, you burned up most of their vehicles, but you say that you maybe killed just a few of La Fuerza.”
“They’re going to be out for blood, that’s for sure. They have to know that we came from somewhere close by. Worst case is they captured one of our missing in action and they made them talk. That would mean that they’d head straight for Conley Ranches. It will be a total freakin’ bloodbath.”
Blanca half shouted: “Then we’ve got to go! At least be 100 percent ready to go, muy pronto.”
Ian and Blanca soon assembled and fueled their planes. They packed everything aboard that they could, leaving very little room. They waited for an indication that the looter army was heading toward Prescott.
“Maybe we can get up to Idaho. Two of my old college buddies, Dan Fong and Todd Gray, are up there. They’re survivalists. You remember me talking about them, right? Dan is a total gun nut. He must have two dozen guns. Todd set up a real survival retreat up there; it’s stocked with years’ worth of stored food, gardening seeds, fuel tanks, the whole works. The Fongman is part of that retreat group. If anybody is still alive and kickin’ after the Crunch, it’s gotta be them. With our skills, they’ll probably take us in.”
“Probably? Maybe? That isn’t a lot to go on.”
“Our only other option is about to be overrun. Todd’s place in Idaho is the only place I can think of that’ll be safe.”
As they climbed, they could see below that almost half the buildings in downtown Prescott were ablaze.
Blanca keyed her microphone and said simply: “Ay, ay, ay.”
Following a sectional aviation chart, Blanca navigated the pair of Larons to Cedar City, Utah.
The airport was on the northwest side of town, just west of I-15. Upon landing there, they were surprised to find 100LL avgas was being offered for sale at the airport. The FBO operator told Ian that he’d recently taken the gas out of hiding, because word had come that they’d soon get a fresh supply coming from Oklahoma. “I might as well sell off the last 110 gallons of my old gas, since the new stuff is coming in from the Provisional Government,” he said.
“What Provisional Government?” Ian asked.
“Fort Knox. Haven’t you heard?” the airport manager answered.
“Nothing solid, just some rumors. So that’s for real?”
“Sure it is. We’re going to have some kinda UN regional administrator. But they’ve promised us local autonomy.”
Ian cocked his head and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We don’t know yet, but hey, any government is better than no government.”
Ian gave his wife a glance and then commented, “Well, in my book, there is only one rightful form of government-a constitutional republic-or I’d rather have no government. One of my college professors was a heavy-duty Libertarian. He wore a lapel button that said, ‘There’s No Government Like No Government.’”
Blanca chimed in, “I second that motion!”
In the end, Ian traded an Olin 12-gauge flare gun kit, one hundred rounds of 9mm ball ammunition, and twenty dollars’ worth of junk silver for forty-three gallons of gasoline.
The FBO manager let them sleep in a mostly empty hangar, next to their planes.
The next day, grossly overweight, they took an extra long roll and took off. They followed I-15 and occasional GPS fixes to the long paved strip north of Brigham City, Utah. Aside from some bumpy air, the flight was uneventful.