Nightwalker 5 Read online

  “We cannot see in the dark like you, Mister Wolfe,” Bessie said softly.

  That was why he had not included it in the plan. The underground needed to be able to see. Speed was their friend.

  “Wait here. I’ll take another look.”

  He returned to his spot and counted the guards on duty. Only the two at the front gate. No roving patrol that he could see, but he suspected they were out there. They could be sleeping. The FEDCOM soldiers had little discipline. When one of their officers had a boot up their backside, they could get them going in one direction. Otherwise, they were barely above animals.

  It made Wolfe wonder about the gate guards. Why were the western compound guards on their toes? The other compound had had one guard sleeping and one awake. Maybe the officers were there with a big stick? The soldiers were doing what they were told under threat of punishment.

  Maybe that was why the soldiers wanted to control the civilians, stealing every aspect of their lives because it was their only chance to be in charge. It made them feel important.

  The day of reckoning had arrived. For FEDCOM and the Alstons.

  “Why are you here?” he whispered. He had not had anyone watch the compound since he first saw an Alston brother. He had no way to know if they were still there. He expected they would go with the convoy if they were. He hoped he would see them drive out.

  He was counting on it.

  Time marched on, heading toward five in the morning. False dawn suggested it was close. Wolfe could have asked someone since he did not wear a watch, but he did not live his life that way. He lived by daylight and darkness. Maybe he would try to find a watch for Jennifer. She would need to know the time to live like a normal person.

  Unlike him.

  Floodlights mercilessly lit the area. Even with the goggles, if Wolfe looked directly at the beams, it pained him.

  Someone shouted from inside the big building, the one Wolfe had gone into on his visit. The one with the officers’ quarters.

  He squinted to focus on the windows and watch for movement. An alarm started to scream. Like an air raid siren, it wailed louder and louder. People raced from the barracks, but there was no direction. They stood around in the open area of the compound. When a uniformed officer ran from the big building, he started shouting orders. The men and the few rough-looking women of FEDCOM jumped into the trucks, starting them one by one until they were all running.

  The plan had been implemented. He hoped those kids had cut the wire and were running for their lives. They did not need the soldiers to find them anywhere near the road.

  Wolfe needed the convoy to go all the way to the Red Zone. He had to have that time, especially with the group hiding in a yard behind him.

  He silently encouraged the soldiers to join the parade away from the compound, but the gate guards looked like there were going to stay put. They had their weapons across their chests while they waited to raise the gate.

  There! From the big building. The Alston brothers and the major.

  All three together.

  They looked around, far warier than their local counterparts. Wolfe instinctively backed farther into the hedge. Soldiers streamed from the barracks, taking a detour into the big building where the armory was and emerging with M16s. They climbed into the backs of the trucks and waited.

  The officer who had been doing the shouting ran from truck to truck before climbing into the cab of one of the vehicles at the front. The convoy rolled out, the gate guards letting them through. The Alstons stood away from the last truck in line. Wolfe focused on them. Then someone waved from within the canvas-shrouded back. The truck lurched to a stop, and the three men climbed in. The engine revved, then the truck jerked into gear and followed the others onto the road.

  The two gate guards watched the trucks go. A man and a woman in white aprons stood in the doorway to the big building, wiping their hands as they watched their breakfast crowd disappear into the distance. They returned inside. That left two. The floodlights glared into the first tinges of dawn. Wolfe judged the distance as too far for his bow.

  He didn’t want to use his rifle but was left with no choice. He checked it to make sure it was ready to fire, then loped away from the hedge, angling toward the closest section of fence. The guards were turned away and had not seen him. He jogged easily toward the gate, staying close to the fence, out of their sight. He realized he’d be able to reach them without having to fire his weapon, so he sprinted, running as fast as he could to close the distance.

  When they realized he was behind them, they nearly fell backward in surprise. He used the AR-15 as a club, braining the first one before grappling with the second. He broke the man’s wrist bones with a squeeze and a twist. As the soldier started to scream, Wolfe let go and punched him in the face hard enough to crack his skull. The sounds of his pain died on his lips. He fell in a heap next to his dead companion. Wolfe waved to the crowd.

  This time they could see him. The group of thirty or so ambled toward him. He started issuing orders, pointing to pairs of people with each command. Jennifer came up next to him and he put a protective arm over her shoulder.

  “Take their weapons and stay here. You, check the barracks. You two, around back. My veterans, come with me. We have the dining facility to secure and the armory to open.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The rock was still on the ground, propping the door open. Wolfe flung the door wide and walked through. The armory was locked, but the doors to the kitchen and dining room were open. He strolled into the kitchen area, where the two cooks were preparing the morning meal for the soldiers.

  “Good morning. I am going to need you to leave the compound for a bit,” Wolfe said, tipping his head in a friendly greeting. Jennifer grabbed Buddy before he could help himself to the food lining the counter.

  “Who are you?” the man asked, stopping mid-whip while holding a huge bowl of eggs.

  Wolfe looked down at himself. A rifle in his hand. A bow and quiver over his shoulder. His welding goggles up, and his long brown hair covering his ears and falling to his shoulders.

  “I’m Jim Wolfe, and I need you to leave.” It was plain and straightforward. There was no sense in mincing words.

  “Or what?” the man shot back, but his words were weak and his shoulders sagged. The woman put down what she was working on.

  “Sounds like we’re off early today, Bill.” She took the pan from his hands and set it on the counter. “Time to go.”

  “Take her advice, and you’ll save yourself a lot of grief. You don’t want to be here when the soldiers return.”

  “What’s going to happen?” the cook named Bill asked.

  “A reckoning,” Wolfe replied. One of the old veterans encouraged the cooks to hurry up by nudging them with the barrel of his rifle. Once they were gone, Wolfe went to the armory.

  The heavy padlock resisted even his strength as he tried to pull it open with his bare hands. One of the old men said, “I saw something on the way in. Hang on.” He tottered down the hallway and went outside, returning after a few seconds carrying a crowbar. “A mechanic’s friend.”

  Wolfe took it and made short work of the lock, then pulled the heavy steel door open. He flicked the switch inside the door to reveal all that they would have when the soldiers returned.

  It wasn’t what Wolfe had hoped. Three rifles remained, and several crates of 5.56mm ammunition. He had been hoping for something heavier.

  The old vet sensed his angst.

  “They wouldn’t put the good stuff in here. There’s probably a different storage area that they can get to from the outside. Soldiers wouldn’t mess up the nicely buffed corridor floor by dragging an Mk19 grenade launcher down here.”

  “A grenade launcher?” Wolfe asked.

  “Those trucks all had the pintle mounts. They probably would have taken them if they had their wits about them. The fifty cals, too.”

  “We need to find them and quickly,” Wolfe told the man.
The old soldier saluted and hurried away. Wolfe laid the crowbar over his shoulder and walked upstairs. He stopped at the communications room, where a young woman now sat. When she saw Wolfe, fear seized her, and she started to silent scream while holding her face.

  Wolfe opened the door. “I need you to leave the compound, ma’am. Go on. You do not want to be here for what is coming.”

  Unlike the cooks, that was good enough for her. She grabbed her handbag using a well-practiced motion and flew past Wolfe on her way out.

  Wolfe checked the remaining rooms to make sure they were empty before returning downstairs. He found the old soldier waiting. “We’ll need you to get the door open.”

  The old man led the way around the building. While they were walking, Wolfe took stock of the situation. There were too few from the underground. He saw six people, and only half of them were carrying weapons. One rifle did not have a magazine inserted.

  He turned back to the matter at hand. The outside door had a lock similar to the one inside. With the pry bar and a vicious twist, he broke it open. Everything he had been hoping for was inside. The old veteran cheered.

  Wolfe stopped the old man before he could grab anything. “You remember the plan. Only weapons we can put into place and fire effectively. I do not know how any of this stuff works.” He gestured toward the array of firepower within the vault.

  “But we do, Mister Wolfe.” The two veterans nodded vigorously. “We know what to do. Send us the people, and we will set up an ambush that will free us from FEDCOM once and for all.”

  Wolfe nodded and let the old men begin the process of removing the heavy weapons they could use. Wolfe looked for Bessie. She would find and send the volunteers. Wolfe wanted to know what was happening on the road. He wanted to know how much time he had, but would not be getting that information.

  They had to be ready when the convoy returned. It felt like they had already taken too long and were behind schedule.

  “Miss Jennifer,” Wolfe started, “please find Bessie and ask her to bring the volunteers to us here. This is what we were looking for. We have a lot of work in front of us and no time to do it.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Mister Wolfe,” the young girl told him confidently.

  She ran off, with Buddy on her heels. Wolfe knew she would do as she’d said. He found that he trusted her completely. She was family.

  He heard her yelling, and soon people came running out of the barracks, then more. Wolfe could only laugh despite the tension twisting his muscles into knots.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Wolfe took two of the Mark 19 grenade launchers, carrying them by their tripod mounts. They were bulky, but he used his strength to muscle them level. He walked fast, staying in front of the other volunteers, who were carrying machineguns and nearly endless amounts of ammunition.

  “Is this too much?” he asked one of the old veterans. The expression on the man’s face was one of pure joy. He was having fun. Too much fun, probably.

  “Nah!” He threw one hand down for emphasis before pointing to the ground. “Put one of those right here. We can lob grenades in front of them, into them, or behind them, if need be. This thing will shoot as far as you can see.”

  The road turned out of sight at two-thirds of a mile. Wolfe had to trust the man since he didn’t know. The stubby shells of the short-barreled launcher did not seem like they would travel that far, but the man was confident of the weapon’s placement.

  The group crossed the road outside the compound and dropped into the ditch. The veterans pointed at regular intervals and ordered that a heavy machinegun he referred to as Ma Deuce be put there. They continued until they were nearly at the bend. The older of the two veterans climbed out of the ditch and described the plan.

  Wolfe put the Mark 19 on the ground and listened.

  “There were nine trucks, and they were driving single file. That means we have to wait for the last of the nine to clear this corner before we open fire. You cannot let them see you, but you have to count the trucks. Fire up the last truck when it gets right in front of you.” The old man mimicked holding the twin handles of the fifty-caliber machinegun and pressing the butterfly lever to fire it. “Spray back and forth through the cab, then the canvas in the back where the troops are after you’ve shot the engine and stopped the truck.”

  He pointed back toward the main gate. “And then I’ll take out the first truck. You have to keep your guns in the ditch. It’ll take two people to lift it over the edge and set it in place. Practice that a few times until you can do it, then start firing in a couple seconds. Any longer than that, and they could drive out of the kill zone.”

  He fired his make-believe weapon again. “When you’ve eliminated the threat in front of you, pick the next truck down the line and fire. Watch your line of fire so you aren’t shooting through the trucks and into the compound, although there won’t be hardly anyone left in there. We’ll be out here. If they somehow get out of their trucks, use your rifles to shoot them. We can’t let a single soldier escape.”

  “I’ll be at the gate with one other, making like I’m one of the guards they left behind, and my friend here will be right there, ready to deny enemy movement through the use of the grenade launcher. We’re going to blow a lot of stuff up, so don’t be stingy with ammo. We only get one shot at this. Questions?”

  “How do I load this thing?” one of the women asked. The veteran took one of the weapons and placed it in front of the group.

  He ran through the steps: raise the top cover, drop the belted ammunition in place, jam the cover down, then cock the weapon. He made the loaders practice it. Many couldn’t pull the handle to the rear so he demonstrated the proper jerking technique. Even Wolfe did it, but with his strength, he cocked it easily. “I will be at the gate with you but they will not see me.”

  The man nodded before clapping his hands. “Everybody get into place and get yourselves ready. It’s time to put on your game faces. Practice putting the guns over the berm. Only cock them once. Be ready to fire. There won’t be any time to waste. And show no mercy.”

  Wolfe decided it was best not to mention the Alston brothers. He could scour the bodies later to find what was left of them. He sobered at the thought. Maybe the old vet had been right. This was the battle to end it once and for all.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jennifer and Buddy ran to meet him on the long walk back to the main gate. He wrestled with the dog briefly before continuing on his way. The other volunteers had fallen back, tired after being up all night. The morning sun had not yet peeked over the horizon, but dawn was bright enough. A blue sky suggested a nice day waited for them.

  They could not say the same thing for the soldiers.

  Once at the gate, Wolfe sat behind the block that supported the gate arm. He checked to make sure he could see the road and tried to relax. He made sure there was a round in the chamber of his AR-15 and extra magazines readily available. He put two in his pockets and two more on the ground beside him.

  Jennifer and Buddy stood next to the entrance and watched him. Bessie made her way to the front gate from inside the compound. She nodded to Wolfe and called for Jennifer to join her inside. “Let’s keep getting breakfast ready. These folks will be hungry when this is over.”

  Wolfe appreciated the confidence, but he did not feel the same way.

  The old veteran finally arrived and looked worried. He worked over the grenade launcher to make sure that it would deliver when needed. “I’m not sure, Mister Wolfe.”

  “You can call me Jim. I never got your name.”

  The old man laughed. “It’s Jim too, but you can call me James if it makes it easier.” He sobered and pointed down the road. “With Steve at the far end, we’ll put a major hurt on these guys. I’m not sure about anyone else. I figure half of them won’t fire a single round, but with these babies,” he tapped the barrel of the Mk 19, “we’ll be able to stitch grenades the length of the convoy. They won’t know what hi
t them. Trained soldiers would get out of the trucks and attack the ambush, but FEDCOM soldiers don’t fall in that category. They’ve never been challenged. They don’t know what it’s like.”

  “Some of them have been challenged,” Wolfe replied, his face as hard as leather in a brisk desert wind. “They might not be what you consider real soldiers, but they are mean. Many will die, but the rest will fight, angry and determined. Some might be cowards. Hell, I think most of them are cowards, preying on women and the weak, but that does not mean they will stand there and let us kill them. You and Steve will carry the day. We will clean up the rest.”

  Bessie had to walk all the way to the gate. “You need to come with me.”

  “I need to be here for Mister Wolfe,” Jennifer replied.

  “The last place you need to be is out here,” Wolfe said. “Get breakfast ready. As long as no one is shooting, bring us something, will you? That will help keep us sharp.”

  “Good call. You know all about soldiers and chow. Gotta eat. Need fuel to keep the engine running.”

  Jennifer thought it might have been a ploy to get her out of the way, but it made sense to her, and she did not want to disrespect the man who had sworn his life to protect her. She had understood what that meant when he’d killed the two guards at the border station where the convoy of soldiers was now going. She nodded and left with Bessie. Buddy wanted to stay outside but joined her when she called to him.

  James turned to Wolfe. “You haven’t served, but you’ve had run-ins with FEDCOM. I can tell that you have no love for them.”

  Wolfe did not answer. He watched the road while tightly gripping his rifle.

  “Looks like we got some time to kill. What happened to you after the guvmints tore the world apart?”

  The sun finally arrived. “What time is it?” Wolfe asked, avoiding the question.

  The old soldier checked his watch. “Looks to be about six. Whaddaya figure? Hour out and an hour back? They don’t take it easy on those trucks, and it’s about sixty miles.”