Miles thought for a few moments, chomping down a mouthful of toast, “Why wouldn’t I want to just fire up those who are most supportive?”
Cooper smiled, “Trust me. Those people are going to be fired up to just be standing up to that SOB. The people you need to think about are those who are there with you, but their knees are wobbling. That’s how you keep and expand support.”
Miles nodded, “Alright. That makes sense.”
“So, you know what those kinds of people will want to hear?”
“Sure, I think so. They need to hear that they might be next. They need to hear that he’s gone too far.”
Cooper clapped him on the shoulder, “Very good! I think that’s right. And, what do they need to hear about our demands?”
“That’s a good question,” Miles said, and thought for a moment. “Well, first, I’ll present them as requests, not demands. Then, we just need to make them seem reasonable, which I think they are now—thanks to your help.”
Cooper gave him a wide smile, “Not bad for a farmer boy from Estacada. You have good instincts here. Trust ‘em.”
Miles raised his mug in response, “Thank you. It’s mostly just common sense. But, it’s good you made me think it through. Not sure I would have done that on my own.”
Cooper clanked his own mug against Miles’, “You’re welcome. Some people don’t have much common sense in the first place.”
Miles laughed at that, “True. We have a lot of them back in D.C., don’t we?”
Cooper smiled wryly, “Maybe less now.”
Miles whiled away the time by pacing about his property. Cooper watched him. At times, he would walk with intense, deliberate focus; head down and unaware of his surroundings. Then, he would gyrate into wild gesticulations and punctuating unspoken words with emphatic gestures. The contrast was remarkable. Miles went from a mild mannered college professor walking on a bucolic campus to a wild-eyed agitator up on a soapbox in front of a mob. Cooper expected the latter would be the more appropriate analogy today.
Cooper contemplated the various ways that the day could play out. He was most worried about Junior Hodges being there during the confrontation. He knew he was the wild card in the scenario. Junior was a hothead, there was no mistaking that. Then, he had Keith who was raw and emotional from the trauma he was experiencing. Putting the two in the same room was likely to result in an explosion. Last night, he had debated asking Keith to stay out of the fray today, but he had decided he didn’t have enough cachet with the group to pull that off.
Dranko’s Jeep rolled down the roadway that led toward town. Cooper was riding shotgun, while Miles sat upright in the backseat. He was quiet and the other two men left him alone. Cooper and Dranko had attempted their normal joke-laden banter to alleviate the tension, but Miles hadn’t found any of it humorous, so they let it lie. Dranko peered ahead intently, focusing on the road and was soon lost in his own thoughts. His left foot was tapping out a nervous rhythm. Cooper fiddled with his Smith and Wesson pistol, checking the slide and trigger function.
The parking lot was much fuller than it had been yesterday. Their plan had been to arrive over the course of a half-hour, entering in separate groups of two or three men. They didn’t want alert Hodges that anything was amiss. They had decided to confront him at 9:07am. Miles would lead the group. Cooper and Dranko, being new to town, were to remain separated from everyone else. They would disperse away from the group and provide some ‘flank’ cover. Their biggest tactical disadvantage was that they would all have only pistols because security didn’t allow long guns into the marketplace. Meanwhile, the guards would have rifles and shotguns. Cooper knew that if gunfire broke out in a place like this, it would be a bloody mess. At least we’ll outnumber Hodges and his guards by 4-5 to one.
The emergency brake scratched and the Jeep came to a stop. Cooper turned back to Miles.
“You ready?”
Miles looked up at him and nodded. His face was firm, the jaw set and muscles tense. He’s nervous, but resolute.
“You’ll be fine. Just remember who you are talking to,” Cooper said.
Miles nodded once more and then exited the vehicle. Dranko and Cooper remained behind. They were going to give him five minutes to get inside and mingle before they entered as a pair. He looked at his watch; it was 8:56am. His stomach tightened. He grabbed his pistol once more and checked its function again.
“Leave it,” Dranko said, irritated. He’s tense, too.
Cooper re-holstered his pistol to placate his friend. They watched as other vehicles pulled in and men entered the marketplace in pairs and trios. Cooper spotted some familiar faces from the night before, including the man with the gruff voice who had spoken up several times. He noticed the outside guard watching them as they remained in the Jeep.
“We should go. We’re drawing attention by sitting,” he said and opened the door.
He gazed skyward as he exited. It was a rare cloudless day. The sky was azure and beautiful. Cooper’s skin rose up in goose pimples, triggered by the frigid air, but sustained by the anxiety of what was coming. His feet barely touched the ground as he moved in rapid strides across the worn parking lot. Dranko was a step behind him. They crossed without incident into the marketplace.
Cooper surveyed the scene in rapid fashion. He spotted six guards spread out across the market’s tables and floor. He saw Hodges on the upraised office area with three other men clustered about him; apparently his personal bodyguards. The guards were mixed between rifles and shotguns. Hodges had a pistol at his side. With the guards at the front entrance, that made a dozen guards. He sidled up next to Dranko and they quickly exchanged what they’d seen and confirmed it was the same. Cooper told him where he should go. If where Hodges sat now was the tip, he and Dranko would deploy as the outward edges of an arrow. Their crowd of men, led by Miles, would fill in the area around the tip. These positions would allow Cooper and Dranko to protect the backside of the crowd and cover the guards in that area. Last night, they had made additional plans to have the men in the crowd face outward in all directions. Someone had called it their ‘porcupine defense.’ Cooper moved deliberately to where he wanted to be when it all started. He pretended to browse the tables as he passed, but deflected conversing with the vendors, so that he wouldn’t get delayed. He kept glancing up at Hodges, who was huddled over some paperwork. So far, their plan to go unnoticed was working. Cooper breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
It proved to be a hair’s breath too soon.
The front door clattered on its hinges as Junior Hodges and two men flanking him came bursting in. He wore a self-satisfied smile on his face. He strode confidently across the marketplace, snatching an apple off of one of the tables without even a pretense of paying for it or even acknowledging the offended seller. With his entrance, the place had fallen silent, and Cooper could hear a sharp crunch as his teeth plunged into the apple’s flesh, ripping a good-sized chunk from the core. Watching him from across the room, Cooper saw juice dribble down his chin before he wiped it away with his sleeve. Cooper found Keith in the crowd and was thankful that two of his friends were both holding him steady and shielding him from Junior’s view. Hearing the silence, Hodges looked up from the table. He scanned the room and Cooper saw him surveying around with the larger than normal number of customers. Hodges eyebrows drew together just as Junior reached the stairs and climbed up to stand next to his father.