“Too big and noisy. We’ll be fine but I’m taking three instead of just the two Humvees,” I answer.
“Okay, Jack, I love you,” she says as we part.
“I love you too.”
I meet Greg close to the entrance and inform him of the change. He heads off to gather the rest of Echo Team while I inform Red Team of our plan. Emerging from the building into the brightness of the sunlit morning, feeling the light, fresh breeze as it drifts across the tall brown grass of the adjacent fields, I see Bannerman standing with his face skyward, letting the sun fall on him. I am hesitant to interrupt his obviously serene moment. He has done so much to help after our rocky start that he deserves any moment of serenity he can get. I do feel an anxiousness wanting to get a move on but I know that feeling of peace and those times where you just want to experience the moment and let it fill you. I wait until I see him take a breath and sigh. Coming out of his reverie and looking around, he sees me standing to the side and nods.
I had a thought emerging from the building and approach. “Wish we could just take this day to relax and enjoy this sunny day,” I say.
“Yeah, perhaps someday we’ll be able to do that once again. I hope so anyway,” he says. “But you didn’t come over just to discuss wishful thinking, did you?”
“Well, yes and no. Under different circumstances, yes, but I was wondering if there were any fiber-optic snake cams in the crates we gathered from the armories?” I ask.
“Yeah, we found some unpacking the crates. We only have four but we could find some additional ones I’m sure if you need them. How many do you want?” Bannerman asks.
“I’ll take the four we have now,” I answer. “Also, we could use some of the walkie-talkies from the store if you could drum some of those up.”
“I can do that. Let me go get them. I’ll be right back,” he says.
My thought is that the people at the compound have to communicate in some fashion and would most likely use walkie-talkies using generic and open frequencies. I want to use the radios to monitor their calls if they are in fact using those. Anything to get a better picture of what we are facing. Waiting for Bannerman to return, in a similar manner that he was, I relish the warmth bathing my face. The knot in my stomach doesn’t allow complete relaxation. The tension and worry inside feels like every muscle in my body is clenched.
“Now, Jack, you aren’t planning to go in by yourself or anything, are you?” Lynn’s voice asks behind me, interrupting my reverie.
“Someone’s been telling on me,” I say without turning.
“Bannerman might have mentioned a thing or two,” she says.
“Not planning on it, but if the opportunity presents itself, I want to be ready,” I answer her question.
“Jack, that’s your way of saying yes,” she says as I turn toward her.
“Seriously, I am not planning on anything but getting a better look at what we are facing, but if there’s a chance of getting Gonzalez and the kids out, I’m taking it. Believe me, I’m not going to jeopardize their safety to alleviate my own anxiety,” I say.
“What about the others in the compound?” She asks. “And before you answer, I know the kids and Gonzalez are the priority, but the others deserve a chance as well.”
“I’m not completely heartless and have given them some thought as well. My hope is that we can find a way to get everyone out, assuming of course that we’re right about what’s going on, but the kids come first,” I answer. “And Gonzalez.”
“Just be careful, Jack, and I know they come first. I want you to come back as well,” she replies.
“I will, hon. I will,” I respond and give her another kiss. “I want more moments with you and I’m not looking to depart this world so soon. Even if it is a rather fucked-up one right now.”
Echo Team, with Greg in the lead, emerge from Cabela’s with their gear and head towards one of the Humvee’s with Red Team, or what is left of them, gathered by it. Bannerman follows shortly on their heels and hands the fiber-optic cams and radios over for which I thank him. We talk about switching our tactical frequencies. If the kids and Gonzalez were taken, then our radios will be in the marauder’s possession giving them ears into our conversations. We settle on a primary and secondary frequency.
“Okay, time to go. I love you,” I say to Lynn.
“I love you too.”
With that, we pile in the Humvees, the diesel engines cranking over and spilling their throaty roar across the still parking lot. Small amounts of dark smoke exit the exhausts and drift on the morning breeze before dissipating altogether. The day has warmed the interior of the vehicles and I feel a trickle of sweat roll down my neck and a slight sting as it crosses the still open scratch on my neck. I usually heal quickly but this one doesn’t appear to be closing anytime soon. I put my hand to the bandage covering the wound. I have been pouring antibiotics over it daily and taking them as well. At least it stopped oozing, I think remembering that night in Portland and how close we came to becoming just another pile of corpses in some remote location. The periodic headaches, which I have associated with the slow-healing wound, have diminished to an extent as well.
Shrugging and forgetting about it as we pull out of the lot, I set my mind on the task ahead. The tension centering in the pit of my stomach tightens as my thoughts center on what lies ahead. I would like nothing more than to take some Strykers and Bradleys and wipe the people, who took my kids and possibly harmed them, off the face of the earth. I know that isn’t the solution but that doesn’t alleviate my anger, worry, or desire.
We turn south on the Interstate, staggering our small convoy in case others happen to be around. I thought about taking the helicopter and proceeding ahead of the group to scout for anyone watching or waiting, but that would mean I would have to return and proceed on my own presenting an easier target. It must have happened so fast, with Gonzalez and the kids, that they didn’t have a chance to get on the M240 mounted on top. That would have taken care of the truck in short order. I’m actually surprised the truck took on a Humvee to begin with but they must have planned it well and given them little time to respond. With that thought, I radio the others following to make sure the guns are manned at all times as we transit.
I shake my head. I should have thought of this earlier and made it a priority. I guess I wasn’t thinking other survivors would do something like kidnapping and felt that the day was relatively safe. Not anymore. Any dealings with any other groups will be treated very cautiously. We will have to be as cautious during the day as we are at night. I mean, as if it isn’t dangerous enough with night runners, we have to deal with this as well. That is seriously messed up.
I have Greg, in the third Humvee, take a large lag position as we turn onto the highway heading toward the encampment. I want to be able to catch anyone following or at least be alerted if we are located. The plan is to take the back roads, mostly power line roads, and get into a position on a hill overlooking the compound. The hill is far enough away and forested so we shouldn’t be seen if we are careful but it will allow us to observe.
I plan to keep two of the Humvees on the back side of the slope with one just on the edge where we can observe from the relative safety of the enclosed vehicle at night. I’m not sure what the night runner activity is but I don’t want to be caught out after dark. We should be safe enough with the Humvees locked down. Of course, if the night runners do find us, they’ll also be giving away our position to those in the camp. I’m hoping they haven’t ventured this far outside of the cities as yet but I keep Frank’s evaluation in mind; that they’ll be moving out into the country to hunt. Hopefully they already aren’t doing so.