“Major, can I interest you in a shot of Jack Daniels and a cigar?”
Despite the major’s near exhaustion, he smiled at the sergeant. He was easy to like—there was an inherent trust about the man. Captain Daubney visibly relaxed.
“Sergeant, that sounds like a great idea.”
“Would you care to join us, captain?” asked Sergeant Jensen.
“If it’s okay with the major, sergeant.”
“Of course, captain.”
“This way, gentlemen.” Sergeant Jensen led them to a spacious master bedroom at ground level. Inside, the room had enough food stockpiled to sustain a large group for many months. Besides the food, the large bedroom closet contained a well-stocked armory.
“Sergeant, we need to ask you some questions about a man that may have passed through here recently. I want to wait to ask the questions to your entire group.”
“Okay, major. It’ll take an hour or so to round up the rest of my men. In the meantime, I’d appreciate if you could fill me in on the state of the world. I’d guess that you’re more informed about this than I am, sir. After all, you have a helicopter—I never thought I’d see another bird airborne.”
“Sergeant, I’ll tell you our story, but I’m awful parched. You mentioned something about my good friend Jack Daniels?”
“Yes, sir!” answered the sergeant, removing a half-empty fifth and three shot glasses from a battered hutch in the corner of the room. He poured liberally and the three men raised their glasses in a toast to their budding alliance.
SECTION 2: Marty Catches Up
CHAPTER 2.1-A Marine Magnum
“Snuff,” said Connor, barely above a whisper, “we need to leave by the side door—the one next to the garage. I don’t think we can use the back door now.”
“Why?”
“Tactics. In an urban setting, people tend to leave by the same door they entered. It’s human nature. Anyone seeing us enter would naturally expect us to exit the same—that’s where any primary concentration of firepower will be located.”
“Mac, you’re scaring me—I’ve never seen you this keyed up.”
“Listen and learn, okay?”
“Alright.”
“I’m following the feeling that’s kept my ass alive through some serious shit. If I tell you to run, I want you to move your ass.”
“Okay.”
“Act on all my commands without question, understood?”
“Yeah, Mac, I get it.”
“I don’t want to be worried about you if the shit hits the fan. I’ll be a bit busy.”
“I said I get it.”
“Good. We need to stick as a team and, if we do, we’ll stay alive.” Connor snuck a peek out the bottom windowpane of the garage’s man door. He caught no movement, but shook his head in dismay. His gut told him a huge shitstorm was brewing. He cracked the door slightly, grateful that the squeak of the hinges was barely audible. His ears perked at a faint sound, possibly a bird landing on a gutter.
“Dammit, I shoulda just said no to the sub-huntin’,” said Connor, mumbling, “Oh, make her happy, Mac. Go ahead—”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Amanda slipped a hand onto Connor’s shoulder.
“Why do you think someone’s out there, Mac?”
“Other than the tripwires and voices I heard earlier? I don’t know—probably some subtle changes in the overall sensory environment. Or maybe enough precursor cues at a subconscious level suggesting a more coordinated attack. Like I told you before, I’ve learned to trust this feeling.”
Connor stroked the barrel of his new shotgun, confirming the safety was off. Seeing his weapons check, Amanda checked her new Bennelli, confirming there were fresh shells in both chambers. Keeping busy to hide a burgeoning nervousness, she transferred ten rounds from her backpack to each front pocket, experiencing a moment of regret for entering the subdivision. “I’m sorry for bringing us here, Mac.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it, Snuff. It was ultimately my call anyway. We simply need to vacate in one piece and there’ll be no harm done. But yeah, I’m feeling a building urgency to get the fuck outta here. You ready?”
“Yeah, Mac, I think so.”
He studied the new weapon in Amanda’s hands. “You already comfortable with that Bennelli?”
“Yeah, Mac, it feels like it was made for me.”
“Okay, good. But I want you to keep the Remmy as your primary for now. That’s the weapon you know and trust.”
“Okay.”
“Use it to scope those houses across the street. Mainly the one with the broken porch railing.”
“Alright,” said Amanda. She safed the weapon and forced it into her backpack side pocket sleeve. Not a great fit, but it would have to do until she found a better way to carry it. Leaning closer to the door, she poked the rifle barrel outside the door an inch to scope the houses across the street. “You want me to take out anyone I see or wait for assigned targets? Do we need a code sign?”
“Hey, slow it down some. Don’t tighten up on me too fast. Stay frosty. For now, just keep scoping those houses, okay? Especially that blue stucco.”
“Sure, Mac.”
“Now listen up, once I’m out the door and assessing our exit, blow away anyone you see with a gun. Period. You see a gun, you shoot. Select targets at will.”
“Sure, okay, whatever you say.”
“Hang tight left side of the door here while ranging those homes. Once I’m out and secured, I’ll signal for you to follow if it’s safe. Make sure to use available cover on your exit.”
“I will.”
Connor glanced at Amanda. He appreciated her effort to put on a grim, battle-ready face. He touched her arm. “Oh, and Snuff, it’s all right to be scared. A little scared is good.”
“Umm—”
“I’m out the door. Scope the houses.”
Connor exited, the marine magnum held ready. Shifting right and left in a quick scan, he moved toward a large landscape boulder twenty feet away. The garage jutted out twenty-five feet into the yard to his left and he took immediate notice of the corner edge, since it was an optimal close range offensive. That is, until he sensed movement above and behind him on the roof. Instinctively, he spun, firing twice almost blindly. His shotgun sent a double boom across the subdivision.
“Drop back!” he yelled, pumping in another round and firing.
Amanda darted further away from the doorway, continuing to scope the houses across the street. His third shotgun blast blew the wounded man off the roof. Connor heard three quick shots from Amanda’s rifle finding their mark. Sprinting toward the garage door, he fired two well-placed shots that took out the midsection of a man coming around the corner of the garage.
“Move! Into the house!” yelled Connor to Amanda as he reentered the garage.
They heard the back door smashing to the floor now that all pretense of the enemy’s stealth was gone. Connor and Amanda reloaded on the run with practiced ease. Grabbing Amanda by the shoulder, Connor stopped halfway down the hallway, smiling. Seeing the furious glint of excitement in his eyes, even with the sound of many men barging into the house, Amanda felt strangely calm.
“Knife ready, Snuff?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. You might need it. We’re coming up on close quarters low and fast. Keep tight. Point and shoot. Don’t hesitate. Follow me.”
“Okay. The Beretta would be better, right? Close quarters?”
“Positive you’re comfy with it?’
“Yeah.”
“Use it. We need move, now. We’re gonna take an aggressive assault to these men. They think they’re coming up behind us in the garage to play surprise—”