It took well over an hour for the convoy to reach recon position 2 at the east edge of town. The two remaining scouts fell back to position 3, a jumble of blackberry bushes along a stream near the turn off to the Westmore farm. Hours later the scouts still reported no contact.
In the pre-dawn darkness Caden looked through his binoculars from position 3. He could barely see a group of Humvees on the west edge of Hansen. The damp and cold made him shiver. “They’ve been there for hours. Why haven’t they made a move?”
The question had been rhetorical, but one of the privates beside him shrugged.
As they continued to watch the convoy the red-haired boy and girl Caden had seen so often in the area strolled across the field to the stream carrying fish traps.
Caden froze.
The teens moved along the bank for a while, and then put their traps in the water just twenty yards from recon position. The two sat idly nearby looking in the direction of the trucks. Go home kids. But there was no way to communicate the message without exposing his position.
Caden pulled out his radio. “CW returning to unit.” Looking at the scouts he whispered, “Keep watch on the convoy. When they move out, alert us.” Crouching, he headed back around the corner and then on to his jeep. As he climbed in the vehicle he felt the vibration of his phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, you know who this is.”
“Yes.” He recognized Hoover’s voice.
“I’m guessing things aren’t going according to your plan. Most of the convoy is parked at the city limit.”
Thank you for calling and telling me what I already know. “I thought they would just drive straight through town. I’m not sure why they stopped.”
“The commander asked me if there was another way around the lake. He even looked at my maps. I think they know you’re waiting for them and they’re looking for another route.”
“There isn’t another way,” Caden said flatly. “Is there?”
“Nope. Not unless these guys are amphibious or they want to build a bridge.”
“Good, but we shouldn’t talk. They could be monitoring your phone.”
“Actually they’re working to take down the phone system. Good luck, Mr. Military.”
Caden parked his jeep well up the hill from the lake and walked down toward the shore. His unit was dug in along the tree line on both sides of the road. Several yards up the highway two huge Douglas firs had been cut down blocking it and several more trees were notched and primed with C4.
Walking among the sixty soldiers under his command, Caden confirmed that they were well concealed and then climbed into his foxhole and waited. He placed a few more sandbags along the edge and moved the biggest rocks he could find to the front. My orders were to stop Durant’s forces from getting through to Olympia and, at the moment, I’ve done that. He looked up at the still dark sky, anxious for dawn.
With a crackle the radio came to life. “Forces deployed west of Hansen this is the U.S. Army convoy commander. I’m coming forward under a white flag in a single Humvee with a driver. I want to talk. I propose we meet on the causeway. Do you copy?”
The voice sounded oddly familiar.
Brooks raced along the tree line to Caden’s position. “It’s not safe, don’t do it.”
“Being here isn’t safe. Meeting him is no worse and buys us more time. If I have to, I’d rather fight them in daylight.” Into the radio he said, “Copy. I’ll meet you there.” To a nearby private he said, “You’re my driver.”
As Caden and the soldier walked up the slope, Recon 3 reported a single Humvee moving along the highway.
The driver rummaged through the first-aid kit, setting the green bandages aside and retrieved some long white gauze. He then tied it like a streamer to the antenna at the rear of the jeep. Together they headed slowly down to the edge of the lake. The other vehicle was already on the far side. The drivers moved deliberately along the road toward each other.
Roughly in the middle they stopped and the convoy commander walked to the front of the Humvee. Caden stepped around the front of the jeep. As they neared, he recognized the man he had first met at a blockade on the Georgia border, the officer who had helped him from the pit of despair and convinced Maria to get on the plane when they all flew to Washington state. “Hello, Lieutenant Turner. How are you doing?”
“Actually its Captain now.” The man looked at him carefully. “Caden? I thought you were a civilian.”
“So did I,” he grinned. “Well, congratulations on the promotion, but I can’t say that I’m happy to see you here.” Caden wanted to draw out the conversation so he said, “I thought they sent you to Korea.”
“It never happened. The Defense Department is pulling troops out of there and Japan.”
“Are you still able to get letters from your wife?”
“Yeah,” he smiled, “the post office is functioning.” Then the humor drained from his face. “I have orders from the Commander-in-chief to assist with the arrest of Governor Monroe….”
“I no longer recognize the orders of President Durant.”
“I don’t want to fight you, but if you block the convoy, I will. It will be bloody for both of us.”
Caden nodded.
Turner looked frustrated. “A lot of good men will die today.”
“I know that. Don’t attack. Durant wasn’t elected and what he is doing is unconstitutional and violates everything that….”
Turner threw up his hand. “That’s treason and I won’t hear it. I’m going back to my convoy and you should return to your rebels.”
“We’re not rebels…”
Turner already had his back to Caden and walked away.
Reluctantly, Caden climbed into his jeep and the two men parted company.
Back in his foxhole a few minutes later, Recon 3 came over the radio, “Vehicles are moving forward with troops along the side of the road. We’ve got to move.”
In the distance came the sound of gunfire. Recon 3 fell silent.
Through the light of early dawn, Caden saw five Humvees pull up and stop on the opposite shore. Turner’s troops hurried into positions as gunfire from both shores commenced. The rest of the convoy must be behind the trees.
Pings and thuds sounded on both sides as he lowered his profile behind the rocks and dirt at the edge of the foxhole. A tree limb fell in front of him and a bullet ricocheted off a nearby rock. Gunfire became a continuous roar.
They’re expending a lot of ammo. Do they think we will return fire and run out first? Just in case he turned to a nearby soldier. “Unless you have a good shot, hold your fire. Pass it along.”
Turner can’t get by us this way. It’s three hundred yards across the lake. We could shoot back and forth all day to no great effect and, apparently, he doesn’t have mortars.
Gradually the soldiers from the armory slowed their pace, but the troops on the far side continued and roared the engines of the Humvees.
The sun was still behind the trees, but daylight now illuminated the battlefield. Caden spotted a soldier running along the tree line of the far shore. He fired and missed. The man raced for cover.
“…come in. Please Caden, come in.”
Was that Maria’s voice on the radio? “Maria? Is that you?”
“They shot two of your men near the farm. After they left I went to help them but they’re dead.”
“Get away from there!”
“I will but I’ve got to tell you—the convoy is heading down the road by the farm. I think they’re going to the logging road where the men removed the culvert.”
All this shooting and noise—it’s a diversion. “Roger, thanks. Now, get away from there.”