Kris wondered what she would have done, as wife, as husband.
''More men got out of the trucks,'' the wife continued, ''spread out in the mud, went to ground. There must have been thirty or forty riflemen. We had children,'' she looked up at Kris, pleading for understanding. Kris nodded, tried to give what the woman wanted. The wife shook her head and went on. ''Some of the men were for fighting it out, let the devil take the last one standing.''
The woman looked Kris hard in the eye. ''We have our children here. We women voted to put the guns down.'' The woman glanced down at her husband. ''Maybe if we'd known what came next, we'd have fought. Some of us say we wish we had. Most of us don't.''
Almost Kris told the woman that she didn't have to finish the story; already Kris knew the ending. But the wife had come this far; the rest tumbled from her mouth. ''They took our guns first, then our food, IDents, anything that seemed important or that they wanted. Then they had the men tie each others' hands. There, in the mud, in front of our husbands and children, they raped us. That seemed to add something to it for them. Jason's father, her husband,'' she nodded at the old woman in bed. ''He fought them, tied up, he fought them.''
''Why didn't I? Why didn't I, too?'' Jason moaned.
''Because I told you not to. Because if you had, they'd have killed you like they did him. Probably beaten me like they did her.'' A large sigh racked the woman. ''We're alive. Over at the Sullivan place, they're dead. They slaughtered the kids like pigs because they tried to fight them off. We are alive, Jason,'' she took her husband's face in her hands. ''We are alive. We will come through this.''
''And we will hang those bastards,'' Jason whispered.
''If we can. It's all in God's hands.''
The medic arrived; Kris left the wife to work with the corpsman and headed downstairs. Outside, she paused; her mission plan called for delivering food. The rules of engagement only allowed her to return fire if fired upon.
''Come on you sons-a-bitches,'' she whispered to the leaden air. ''I got thirty trigger pullers and no kids in this convoy. You know we're here. You know you want what we got. Come get it. Please.'' As Kris marched across the yard, the man who'd asked to check on finances came walking back, shaking his head.
''They sold the farm. Right out from under us, they sold it.''
Kris stopped him. ''I'm recording what I'm saying for a legal deposition,'' she told Nelly and the man.
''You can do that?''
''That and more.'' Quickly Kris recounted how she'd found the farm station, stripped of IDents and communications. ''Any financial and legal actions taken between the time this station went off net and now are not legal and binding. I, Kristine Anne Longknife, do testify to that in any court of law,'' she finished.
''Thank you,'' the young man said.
''We'll see what else I can do,'' Kris said, spotted Tom, and shouted, ''We done?''
''Think so. I've got photos of everyone. Even Pearson should be happy.''
''Good. Let's pack it in and get moving. We got a lot more to do.''
''Yes ma'am.'' Tom stepped close. ''Kris, is something wrong? You look like…well, like you want somebody dead.''
''Nothing wrong with that,'' Kris snapped. ''We're armed, and there are bad guys out there. Everybody, let's saddle up. We got things to do, places to go.''
The troops began to collect by their rigs. They seemed in no hurry to be gone. Several of them were still holding small children, helping them to stuff their faces.
''Ma'am?'' one of Kris's backseat guards started. ''The bad guys are just going to come back. Take what we left them. Could we, maybe, at least take the kids back to town? They've been starving for the last month. That mom told me the little kids don't have the stomach to digest the grass and other stuff keeping the grown-ups alive.''
''Next week maybe we will. Not now.'' Kris cut him off.
''I said move it, troops. I expect to see you moving,'' she shouted. Navy and Marines got moving.
Jason came out of the large house, spotted her, and began a slow jog toward Kris. As emaciated as the man was, still he put one foot in front of the other until he came to hang on Kris's truck door.
''Listen, those guys use the swamps for their hideout. If you keep away from the worst of the swamps, you might avoid them.'' Kris called up her planned track on her battle board and shared it with Jason. He shook his head. ''There, four, five miles down the road, you're headed into Dead Cow Swamp. You've got to go around.''
''Can't,'' Kris found that she was grinning. ''Everything around that road is flooded. It's the only elevated road left. We're going right up it.''
''They'll be waiting for you.''
''I kind of hope so,'' Kris said, letting her grin take over her entire face. Grampa Trouble would be proud.
''Just so you know what you're getting into,'' Jason said.
Kris turned around, glancing down the line of trucks. ''Got no children. Only Navy and Marines. This is what we get paid for.''
''Be careful, Lieutenant, or Ensign, or whatever you are. I thought I could take anything that came. God, I was wrong.''
''I may have some photos for you and your wife to ID next week when we come through. You may not have to wait until this mess is over before you watch a few of them swing.'' Damn, I'm starting to like this.
''Oh God, be careful.''
''Not what they pay me for,'' Kris said, leaning out the window, looking back. All her troops were mounted up. ''Tom, move us out.''
''Yes, ma'am.''
In the rearview, Kris watched as Jason went from group to group, saying something. Some of the women fell to their knees in the mud, hands clasped in prayer.
''Say your prayers for the bastards ahead of us. Not for me and mine,'' Kris whispered through tightly drawn lips.
''Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on here?'' Tom asked, eyes locked straight ahead, hands in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. ''I am your second-in-command, and I am supposed to take over if something happens to you.''
Kris popped her mike. ''Troops, you just saw why we're here. Those folks are starving because a bunch of thugs stole what they raised. They killed an old man and beat up his wife. They raped most of the women you saw back there.''
''Raped!'' echoed through the backseat like an electric shock. So, not everyone had gotten full disclosure. Well, they had it now.
''Even the little girls,'' Kris snapped. ''Some of you are tired of being glorified delivery boys. Maybe you could have stayed home and delivered pizza for what we've done so far. Well, I'm told that our road is going to get a bit dangerous in a few minutes. These cruds like to steal things, and our trucks are the only things on the road worth stealing today. Lock and load, crew. Payback time is here, and we'll do the collecting.''
Kris turned to Tom; while she talked, he had called up the route on the truck's display. Overlaying that with a photo, he stabbed a finger at Dead Cow Swamp. ''There?''
''Looks it.''
Tom studied the map. ''We could double back about five klicks. There's that other road that stays to high ground.''
''Looks flooded to me,'' Kris cut him off. ''We've got food to deliver. If we go wandering all over the place, we'll never make it back to base tonight.''
''We could camp at one of the farm stations. Those folks are friendly. They'd be glad to have us stay a night.''
''We've got other deliveries to make tomorrow. Tom, we are going up this road. I suggest you check your weapon. I've never seen you fire one.''
''I qualified at OCS. I had to, to graduate.''
''What did you shoot?''
''The minimum required,'' Tom said, not looking at her.
''For God's sake, Tom, you're a Navy officer. You knew this was part of the job when you took it.''
''You may have noticed, I'm driving a truck, delivering food to starving people. Didn't the priest back home preach ‘Thou shalt not kill,' every time there'd be a barroom fight in town and someone'd be cut up. I joined the Navy to get my college loans forgiven, not to kill.''