“No, this is an old over/under two-shot. I need something with a bit more—yes, there it is!” He withdrew the shiniest weapon from the cabinet. It was also the ugliest by far. Amanda recognized it as a shotgun by its large bore.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s loaded,” said Connor. He cracked open the barrel and confirmed the shotgun shell in the breach. “It’s probably the only weapon in here that’s loaded.”
“So?”
“Snuff, this guy knew his weapons. He selected only the best to store in here. The rest, over there in that gun cabinet were probably junk.”
“Yeah?”
Amanda pulled out another shotgun, a Beretta, turning it over in her hands. Immediately, she felt an extra attachment to this shotgun. It too, was an over/under like the Weatherby, but had a weight and touch that fit perfectly. Impulsively, she decided to keep it. That is, if there was some way to carry it as a secondary weapon, since it had no shoulder strap.
“Snuff, you’re a fuckin’ miracle worker. I can’t believe you found this. I just can’t believe it. I knew you were a serious good luck charm but—”
“What’s so damn special about that one? Is it stainless steel or something? It’s kinda ugly, don’t you think?”
Connor jacked the slide and confirmed that a three-inch magnum buckshot shell was already in the chamber. Additional inspection established it was fully loaded.
“This, sweetheart, is a Remington 870-Marine Magnum. It’s affectionately known as a utility weapon or a deck sweeper. This guy obviously used it as the primary choice for home defense—that’s why it’s fully loaded. But, more important, it’s the perfect weapon for today’s in-close combat conditions. Absolutely fuckin’ perfect. See? It stores six rounds and one in the pipe. Look at this, he set up storage on the stock. Nice.” He grabbed her, spun her around once and gave her a long, sharp kiss.
“Well, Happy New Year, Mac.”
He let her go and dropped to a knee in front of the cabinet drawer. To his delight, he found six boxes of twelve-gauge shells among the ammunition for the other guns. There were four boxes of magnum buckshot loads. He placed fourteen buckshot shells in his front pockets and stashed the balance in his pack. He barely noticed the additional weight in his excitement, but a feeling of dread quickly assaulted his good mood. “We need to get the fuck out of here, now. Grab what you want, lock and load, and let’s move!”
He shifted his M-4 into a comfortable carrying position across his back and carried the shotgun as his primary weapon. Amanda sensed his urgency and grabbed four boxes of ten-gauge shells for the Beretta. She fully loaded the weapon and put the rest in her pack.
They exited the closet and Connor walked to each window, checking for movement. There was nothing.
“Mac, you’re scaring me.”
“You have your knife handy?”
Amanda touched her right front hip. “Yeah. What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s not right and I don’t know why. It could be nothing. Snuff, stay behind me. Five feet to my left when we exit. You know the drill.”
CHAPTER 1.20-A Better Bead
“What’s your name?”
“They call me Sarge.”
“Military?”
“Yeah, like you, from the looks of it. Was anyway, years ago.”
“Unit?”
“101st Airborne. You?”
“Any of your men unaccounted for? We don’t want to have to kill,” said Major O’Malley. He stood in front of a large window in a spacious bedroom clearly used as a command post. Sarge was standing in front of the major in zip cuffs and he took his time considering the question. His eyes contained the telltale spark of intelligence and they were quick, missing nothing. He wasn’t pleased that he and five of his group were captives.
“Depends. If you’re not killin’, what you here for?”
Major O’Malley turned to Captain Daubney and nodded. The captain approached Sarge from behind.
“Whoa!” said Sarge, sensing the captain’s movement. “What the fuck you gonna do now?”
Major O’Malley raised his hand to stop the captain and gain the attention of his captives. “Sarge, to show you that I’m serious, I’ll release you and your men from those cuffs. I’m doing this for two reasons: one, with the cuffs on, you’re going to spend every waking minute trying to figure out how to escape. I know that’s how you were trained, so, I’d rather you stay on your own accord; and two, I’m here for info only and I can trade some food and other supplies for that. We’re not here to kill anyone—slaughtering gives us nothing we need and we weren’t sure how you’d react to our presence. I found it necessary to take you by force so that nobody was hurt.”
“Huh, if that’s the case, lower your weapons and we can talk.”
“Well, we won’t lower our weapons just yet, Sarge.” Major O’Malley nodded to the captain who cut the zip cuffs binding Sarge’s wrists. “Release the rest of the men, captain.”
“Yes, sir.”
Major O’Malley kept focus on Sarge. He was a short and balding man who carried himself with more self-respect than most. There was a calm confidence about him and he and his men were relatively clean and neat, a clear sign of a well-run military unit. “Sergeant, my name is Major Michael T. O’Malley of the United States Army. We’re pressed for time and I’d rather not have to kill any of your men. We used infrared from the air and confirmed a minimum of thirty-five to forty people in this area. With six of you here, that leaves at least twenty-nine people unaccounted for right now including your perimeter and house guards. You with me?”
“And?”
“I’m asking you to provide a status for these people. Keep in mind that my men outside have orders to treat them as hostiles. Those orders will change if you can bring your people into a meeting here peacefully.”
The sergeant braced to attention, regaining all his military bearing at that moment.
“Sir! My name’s Sergeant Robert Jensen of the United States Army 101st Airborne. Retired.”
“At ease, sergeant.”
“Will you permit me to talk with my men, sir?”
“Permission granted.”
The sergeant approached his men, speaking to them in a low voice. “I think this guy’s for real. I want you guys to calm the fuck down—I know you’re pissed. Shut up, Johnny! I know we got taken easily, but they’re a superior force and highly trained for this type of takedown. I want you and Rob to tell the perimeter to come in. They’re to report to the front lawn. Tom and Mark, I want you chasing down the two scouting crews—they’re probably about a mile out by now.”
“But, Sarge—”
“No fucking buts, Do nothing else, hear me? All weapons safe and stowed. Failure to follow this simple rule will probably get us all killed. Joey, you gather up the rest of the group. Lay it out for them crystal clear.”
“Okay, Sarge,” answered Joey. The other men nodded assent and the sergeant turned back to the major. “Major O’Malley, I want to deploy these men to bring in the others. Are there any objections, sir?”
“No objections, sergeant. Trust has to start somewhere. I want your men to instruct the rest of your group to enter this area carrying all weapons in a non-threatening manner. They can keep their weapons, but the weapons must be stowed for now. If any of my men feel threatened in any way, we’ll fire. You and your men understand?”
The sergeant turned to his men. “You guys hear me? You understand what the major is saying?”
“Yeah, Sarge,” came from some of the men. The others simply nodded their assent.
“Okay. Bring our people in safely. I don’t want anyone killed. Do it.” The five soldiers moved away in opposite directions and Sergeant Jensen turned his attention back to the major.