Gordon stepped onto the quarterdeck of the ship. Yesterday he thought that was going to be his last time doing so, but he had given up on making assumptions.
Below on the dock, he saw the Humvee and trailer that Barone had promised. He said good-bye to the Marine and sailor on the deck and stepped off the Makin Island.
The M-1123 model Humvee he was driving was a soft top, four-seat variant with a small cargo space. A covered trailer was hitched to the back for the additional supplies and fuel.
Gordon inspected the vehicle and looked through the boxes. It was like Christmas for him. Barone had supplied him with 3,500 servings of freeze-dried food, five thousand round of 5.56-millimeter, five thousand rounds of 9-millimeter, and 1,500 shells of 12-gauge. On his seat was an M4 with scope and laser sight, a Beretta 9-millimeter pistol, and a Remington 870 shotgun with extended tube. There was enough fuel to get him to Cheyenne. In another box was variety of different equipment, night goggles, compass, ponchos, tarps, first aid trauma kit, boots, extra clothes of various sizes, and other assorted items. Seeing all of this, Gordon became more excited about the trip.
“Excuse me,” a voice came from behind him.
Gordon turned around to see a lean, average-height middle-aged man. His hair was jet black and hung just over the tops of ears. His piercing light blue eyes reminded Gordon of a malamute.
“Mr. Van Zandt?”
“That’s me.”
“Christopher Hicks. I work for the mayor. I’m riding with you to Cheyenne,” he said, putting his hand out.
“Hi, Christopher, call me Gordon. Toss your stuff in the back.”
Christopher did just that, then asked nervously, “When are we leaving?”
“Just waiting on everyone.”
Just then another Humvee pulled up. Three doors opened up. A Marine stepped out followed by Cruz and Bethanny Wilbur. The Marine approached Gordon and Christopher and asked, “Are either of you Gordon Van Zandt?”
“Right here.”
“Here they are,” the Marine said, pointing to Cruz and Wilbur.
“I’ll take it from here,” Gordon answered. The two looked tired, weathered, and gaunt.
He thought how strange the situation was—transporting the vice president and secretary of state. This would definitely go down as one of those stories to tell his grandkids. “Mr. Vice President, Madam Secretary, the backseats are yours.”
Cruz walked up to Gordon and put out his hand. “Thank you for taking us. What is your name?”
“Gordon Van Zandt.”
“Mr. Van Zandt, thank you for doing this.”
“Of course, not a problem. I’m planning on leaving as soon as two other passengers arrive.”
Rain began to fall.
“Damn, I hope that the temps hold. I don’t want to deal with snow,” Gordon said, looking up.
Cruz, Wilbur, and Christopher exchanged greetings, then scurried into the Humvee when the first drops of rain hit them.
Gordon looked at his watch. He was getting concerned that Brittany and Tyler were late. Not wanting to be soaked for the ride, Gordon jumped in the Humvee.
A half hour passed, during which Gordon and the passengers chatted and made small talk. Gordon was in the middle, telling the group about his trek from California, when a knock on his window interrupted him. It was Brittany. He excused himself and jumped out.
“Brittany, you’re really late!” He looked around for Tyler but didn’t see him. “Where’s Tyler?”
She took a step toward him. The rain was coming down heavier. Her hair and clothes were soaked.
“Oh my God, you’re going to catch a chill.”
She placed her hand gently on his face and said, “We’re not going with you. I’m sorry.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
“This place will be our new home. It’s safe. We’ll have a real chance here. I just can’t take Tyler back on the road. You know how it is out there. I can’t risk it.”
“I don’t understand. I thought you were coming with me,” Gordon said, clearly upset. Though not having the responsibility of taking care of them made the trip easier for him from a practical standpoint, he had grown to care about them both. He looked forward to having them as passengers on the trip, and in Idaho. He had visions of Haley and Tyler growing up together. He wasn’t prepared for this. Even though they had only known each for such a short period of time, they had been through so much together. He and Brittany had a connection, and though he would never leave Samantha, in another universe he imagined that he and Brittany might have been together.
“You look upset. I thought you’d be happy to be free of us,” she said softly. She hadn’t removed her hand from his face the entire time.
“I am upset. How’s Tyler?”
“Oh my God, he’s a wreck. He officially hates me,” she laughed.
Gordon smiled, then said, “I know kids. He’ll get over it.”
“There’s something else. When you left before the mission, I said some things. Well, I care for you and it’s not fair to me and you, for us to be close. You have a beautiful wife and little girl who you love. You need to go back to them. I will start fresh here.”
Gordon nodded. What she said was a jolt of reality, that trademark pragmatism that he had grown to know and appreciate about her. “Sorry for being upset. I respect your decision and I understand. You need to do what’s best for you and Tyler.”
“I want to thank you so much for saving us. You gave me and Ty another chance and for that I’ll always be grateful to you. I can’t say it enough, you’re a good man.” She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.
Gordon didn’t stop her but he didn’t return the kiss. When she pulled away Gordon looked at her face. He wasn’t sure if it was rain or tears running down her cheeks. He pulled her in and gave her a firm hug and kissed her on the head.
“Be safe, Brittany. I’ll never forget you,” he said, then let her go.
She turned around and walked quickly back toward town.
He stood in the pouring rain watching her till she disappeared out of sight.
“So just the three of us? This is your plan?” Mack asked sarcastically.
“Are you in or not?” Nelson shot back.
“Of course I’m in, I just wanted to point out that your plan sucks. But if we’re going to knock some skulls, then I’m in,” Mack said with a grin. He spit tobacco juice into a plastic cup.
“Eric, thoughts?” Nelson asked.
“I wouldn’t do a day raid. We should use the advantage we have. We have vehicles; we can move in fast and get out fast. We go in and set up a shooter at the front of the main house and another at the back. The other two will run around firebombing all the buildings. The fire and smoke will draw them out; once they come out we shoot ’em. We stay until they’re all dead. Simple.”
Nelson listened intently to Eric’s plan. It made a lot of sense.
“I like that one better,” Mack said.
“I do too,” Nelson agreed.
“Eric, I need you and Mack to make the Molotov cocktails. I’ll get my dad on board and inform the women of our plans. Tonight our group has the watch, so, Mack, have Seneca take whoever’s shift it is. Bring your rifles, pistols, and lots of ammo.”
Samantha walked into the living room. “Sorry to interrupt. Have you seen Haley?”
Nelson looked up quickly and answered, “Not recently. She came in here about an hour ago to ask if I’d go down to the barn with her.”
“That was my next stop. Thanks,” Samantha said. She grabbed her coat and left.
“Does anyone have any questions?” Nelson asked.
“Yeah, who are the designated shooters?” Mack queried.
“I’ll be one and my dad will be the other. He’s a good shot, and it’s easier for you two to go from building to building than for him,” Nelson commented.