Holding Their Own: The Salt War - Part 15
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Part 15

With only his finger on the trigger, the heavy rifle jumped considerably. Kevin was ready, quickly realigning the weapons position so he could view the impact of his bullet.

It took almost three seconds before Kevin looked up from the optic and admitted, "s.h.i.t. I missed."

Again a.s.suming the role of leadership, Grim tried to respond smoothly. "Thats okay. That was just the sighting round. Youve got two more opportunities."

The process of setting up the rifle went by quickly this time, Kevin having all of the components he needed at hand. "Ready," he stated calmly.

"Send it," Grim responded, not feeling a need to check the perimeter.

The spoon hit the saucepan, and then Kevin was rearranging to see the results.

Grim would have sworn it took the bullet an hour to reach the target, but the wait was worth it. "I hit it!" Keven reported with a smile, his face never leaving the scope.

But then he frowned, looking up at Grim with a questioning expression. "I know I hit the pipe," he stated coldly, "but it didnt bust. Theres no water leaking out."

It was Grims turn to cause a delay, pacing back and forth while he considered their options. "Are the guards reacting in any way?"

It took another few minutes before Kevin reported absolute calm around the school.

"Try the third shot," Grim stated.

The rifle fired the third and final heavy bullet, both men waiting anxiously for the result. Kevin pulled back from the optic, grinning widely. "Its like a thunderstorm has. .h.i.t the school," he said with joy. "Here, take a look."

Grim didnt need to be asked twice, trading places with the kid and putting his eye up to the scope. What he saw made him whistle.

A steady stream of water was spraying in a considerable arch across the schools flat, tarpaper roof. Hundreds of gallons were pouring out of the ma.s.sive tank, indicating a significant rupture of the pipe. "They aint going to patch that leak with duct tape," Grim said, obviously pleased.

The celebration was short lived. "Come on, weve got to get in touch with Cory and let him know what were doing."

A few moments later, the duo was exiting the home, hustling for the edge of town.

It was the smell that led the security team to the bodies. With the continued shuffling of a.s.signments, no one had noticed three of their own were missing... until now.

The chief, his nose and mouth covered with a handkerchief, examined the three corpses, their personal effects identifying them all as part of Stans security force.

"Theyve been here for at least two days," observed one of the deputies. "Other than that, we would need a full autopsy to determine the cause of death."

"Well, its pretty d.a.m.n clear to me two of them were killed with a knife, the other guy shot in the chest," replied the senior lawman. "Thats cause enough for me."

Hurrying outside to gulp the fresh air, the chief ran into Stan. "Whats all the ruckus about?" the head man asked.

"We just found three of your security people in there. All three died violently. Im not sure what to make of it just yet. No witnesses... no obvious clues."

Mr. Gospel pondered the announcement for a moment, reaching a conclusion quickly. "Hes got help, d.a.m.n it. That f.u.c.king Alliance goon has people inside of our town helping him."

"Could be," responded the chief. "But why kill those men? Why here, completely on the opposite side of Cartersville from where hes operating."

"It doesnt matter," came the angry response. "They are among us, and no doubt up to no good. Lets run every stranger at the park out of town. Right now."

The lawman became worried about his friend, Stans reactions getting more and more paranoid. "If you say so, Stan. But Ive got to tell you, I think were overreacting. We dont know that these men werent slain by a completely independent party. Maybe someone managed to steal something valuable and was trying to get out of town? h.e.l.l, for all we know, some of our own people might have begun an uprising."

Stans eyes darted left and right, and for a moment, the chief thought they might roll into the back of his head. "Dont f.u.c.k with me on this!" the man screamed, veins popping out on his forehead. "Im sick and tired of everyone second guessing my decisions. Get every d.a.m.n stranger out of this town and do it right this minute! The only people I want to see at our feast tonight are the loyal, happy citizens of Cartersville."

"Yes, sir," came the brisk reply, the lawman retreating as quickly as possible, rushing off like a sergeant eager to execute an officers orders.

After his adrenaline had a chance to burn off, the chief used the walk to gather his thoughts. Stan was losing control, the signs of a breakdown plain to see.

Moving with a purposeful stride toward the school, the experienced lawman pondered his options. Was it time for a change in management? Was it time for his old friend to have an accident that would force new leadership to be appointed?

His a.n.a.lysis was interrupted by one of his men rushing up. "Weve got a problem at HQ," reported the out of breath man.

"What now?"

"A pipe on the roof has burst; the building no longer has water. The second shift will be coming in soon, and theyre going to want showers and food."

The chiefs first reaction being that someone had executed an act of sabotage against his forces. For just a moment, it flashed through his mind that perhaps Stan wasnt so insane after all.

After a few questions and answers with his deputy, he determined it was just a maintenance issue and not an attack. Exhaling, the top lawman said, "Dont worry about it for now. Weve got new orders to execute. We need every available man in town. Stan has ordered the park cleared out, as well as every non-resident. Thats going to take a while."

"The men arent going to like that," reported the lieutenant. "A lot of them have been out searching the woods for the last few days. Youre going to hear lots of b.i.t.c.hing about Stans promise of a hot meal and a little down time."

An idea then occurred to the chief. "Tell them they can still get a special supper. Well just cut in line at the festival tonight and make sure our guys get their share first."

The deputy was skeptical. "Are you sure Stan is going to be okay with that?"

The senior lawmans initial reaction was to bark a reprimand at his subordinate, but he held his tongue. "What choice do we have? Not five minutes ago, he ordered me to clear out every stranger in town. I dont see how we can safely accomplish that and provide security for the festival at the same time. h.e.l.l be okay with it."

Cory and the doctor finished their task late. By the time the physician was handing over his share of the poison, the Alliance man realized he was going to miss the scheduled meeting with Grim at the fence.

While he was still trying to figure out the next move, Cory heard whistles blowing outside. He ran to the window in time to see several of the security men walking through the streets. "Oh s.h.i.t," he said. "Theyre on to us."

But the local thugs pa.s.sed by the doctors house, continuing on toward the Exchange and the park. A nervous looking Victor arrived a short time later, sneaking in the back door like he had just robbed a bank. "Stan has ordered all non-residents to leave town immediately," he reported. "I think theyre suspicious about something, maybe even our plan."

"s.h.i.t," Cory snapped. "I better get back to the park and pack up my stuff. Ill do my best to deliver our little liquid package here, but now with all this going on, it is probably a long shot."

"Its okay," replied Dr. Hanes. "Our scheme will still work even if we only manage to spray the festival food. Do your best, but if its too risky, dont worry about it."

Cory shook the hands of both men, pledging to see them soon. Tucking the small bottle of poison into the top of his boot, he exited the doctors home and made for the park.

As expected, he found the local enforcers bullying the temporary residents of their camps. Moving quickly, so as not to draw their ire, he began folding up his tent and packing the few belongings hed brought into town with him.

Twice, one of the local goons had pa.s.sed by, ordering him to hurry up and get out of town. Cory had just smiled, thinking about the man puking up his socks after he consumed the docs special sauce.

And then he was hustling for the north gate with the rest of the visitors, everyone grumbling and cussing the town of Cartersville. Cory wished he could have let them know they were better off not being able to partake in the feast, but again, he kept his mouth shut.

And then he was hiking along the same road where the bushwhackers had tried to rob him just a few days ago, wondering how he was going to make contact with Grim and Kevin.

Not knowing what else to do, Cory headed for their camp, not expecting to find anyone there, but not relishing the thought of wandering around the countryside at night alone and unarmed. If Grim and Cory didnt show up pretty soon, it was going to be too late to seed the poison in the guards headquarters.

It was almost dusk when he approached the abandoned home theyd been using to conceal the pickup. It seemed like a year had pa.s.sed since theyd left Fort Hood, the four-man team excited over having a new leader and a new mission. In reality, it had only been 10 days, but to Corys bone-weary body and exhausted mind, much more time seemed to have pa.s.sed.

"SAINT, coming in," he announced to the empty-looking abode that had been home for most of the mission.

He found their truck undisturbed, Grim deserving credit for finding the excellent hiding spot. Cory found the secreted key, right where it should have been, and was soon pulling his weapon and radio out of the cab.

The radio! Grim and Kevin still had their radios!

He flipped on the still-charged device. Keying the mic, he said, "SAINT C to anyone. SAINT C to anyone. Do you read me?"

His heart fell when no one responded immediately. He tried again.

Finally, distant and riddled with static, he received a response. "SAINT C, this is SAINT N. Do you copy?"

Nick! It was Nicks voice he heard over the airwaves. The boss must be close.

"Roger that, N. I read you."

"Im two miles south of camp," came the response. "I should be there in an hour, if the creek dont rise."

"Copy, N. It will be good to see you. If you hear from K or G on the way in, let them know I need to talk to them ASAP. Its critical."

"Copy that, C. Heat up some coffee for me, would ya?"

"You got it, boss. C out."

Grim checked his watch for the tenth time, worry painted all over his face. Kevin and he had been late arriving at the rendezvous point; Cory had never showed. It weighed heavily on the temporary team leader.

He had moved in as close to the blocked street as possible, switching his radio off so as not to give away his position, and save battery time. It never occurred to him to keep the transceiver operational. Cory hadnt taken his communications device into town, afraid of getting caught with equipment would make him seem like anything but a poor, barely-managing traveler.

Kevin was acting in his usual role as overwatch, guarding Grims flank with his high-powered rifle. The combination of their positions would make it nearly impossible for their teammate to slip through unnoticed.

When Grim first spied a group of men walking away from Cartersville, the contractor relaxed. While he had no idea why Cory wouldnt come alone, the fact that his man was safe eased the stress somewhat.

But Cory wasnt among the group.

Before he could react, another small band of pedestrians appeared. What? Grim thought, we havent seen this much foot traffic since weve been here. Something is wrong.

Knowing Kevin had his back made things easier. Rising from the shallow ditch that had been providing cover, Grim slung his rifle around to his back and approached the small group of walkers.

"Howdy," he greeted, the strange Texas custom sounding weird coming from his mouth. "Have you folks been to Cartersville?"

There were four men, two women, and a small child huddled together as he approached. They did not seem happy or eager to make new friends.

"I mean no harm," Grim stated explicitly, stopping several feet away and trying to look non-threatening. "Im just seeking information."

"Yes, we were just thrown out of Cartersville, stranger. Its not a very friendly place at the moment," stated the oldest of the bunch.

"Sorry to hear that," Grim answered. His concern over his teammate immediately escalating. Still, he did his best to conceal the elevated anxiety. "I was there some time ago, and while they were pretty strict, it was a fair place to hole up for a while."

"Yes, yes it was," replied one of the others. "But today, something went wrong. They started rounding up everybody who wasnt a full-time resident and forced us to leave. We didnt have time to gather any supplies - barely got out of there with our belongings."

"Any idea what happened?" Grim questioned, trying to pry as much Intel out of the frightened exiles as possible.

"Theres been a lot of unusual activity lately. They had some man come visiting from something called the Alliance a few days past, and thats when the trouble started. Ever since then, the local goons have been high-strung and mean as h.e.l.l. But today... today was really off the charts. They kicked everybody out and were d.a.m.n rough about it."

"Well, thank you for the warning. I think Ill avoid visiting for a while, maybe give things a chance to settle down."

Grim started to turn, but then remembered something the man had said. "Hey mister, before we part company, did I hear you say something about the Alliance?"

"Sure did. There was some guy meeting with Mr. Gospel, the man who runs Cartersville. Rumor had it the visitor was from a new group taking over a lot of central Texas. They call themselves the Alliance."

Grim smiled, nodding his understanding. "Not long ago I pa.s.sed through an Alliance town. It seemed to me they really had their act together. It was the nicest place Ive been in a while. If you folks head south and west of here, Im sure youll run into them."

"Thanks. We might not have much choice. Appreciate the advice."

Both parties continued on their way, Grim circling back to Kevins position. After filling in his comrade with the news out of Cartersville, he said, "I think something bad has happened to Cory. Either hes been detained or hung or is in hiding."

"Its not like him to give up on meeting us so easily. I wish hed been able to take his radio in there."

Grim announced their next step. "Kevin, this is going to be dangerous as h.e.l.l, but I dont see any option. We dont leave a teammate behind. I wouldnt abandon you and would expect you guys to burn down the gates of h.e.l.l for me. We are going to have to go in and look for him."

Kevin nodded, "You dont have to tell me that, Grim. Id die for any of you. We are a team."

"Glad to hear you say it," Grim replied. "This is going to be extremely tricky given their security people seem to be on high alert. But if were careful and work together, I think weve got a good shot at pulling it off."

"Im in, 100%. Just tell me what you want to do."

Bishop awoke from his catnap, his dreams interrupted by the sound of excited voices. While he couldnt understand the language, it was clear something was happening in the village.

He stayed inside the tiny, single room adobe, watching through the narrow door as women, children and men moved along the street at a quickened pace. Everyone appeared to be heading for the square. He decided to follow.

A significant crowd had gathered by the time the Texan arrived. Fortunately, he was taller than the average citizen, so standing at the back of the throng didnt limit his visibility.

A procession came down the main street, several of the villages younger men brandishing their rifles while being kissed on the cheek as they pa.s.sed through the cl.u.s.ters of local maidens. Everyone was expressing congratulations, patting the armed party on the back and sharing hugs of celebration.

Toward the end of the parade, Bishop finally saw the reason for the merriment. A single horse was being led into the square. In the saddle sat a cowboy, his hands tied behind his back. The man looked nearly dead, blood streaming from his nose, mouth and ear. Red welts covered his face and bare chest. Somebody had beaten the captive badly.

Then another horse came into view, a body tied over the saddle. The villagers hurled insults and pointed angry gestures at the pa.s.sing dead man.

Rocco appeared on the churchs steps, the default, elevated speaking platform for the tiny square. After the horses were led to a stop in front of him, Rocco clasped his hands together in victory and waved them above his head. The throng went nuts, cheers of support filling the adobe lined streets.

"Viva Tejanos!" Rocco yelled over the crowd. "Viva Tejanos!"

Several voices took up the chant, it soon sounding like the entire village was shouting at the top of its united lungs.

While the mob continued to celebrate, several men pulled the prisoner from his saddle, roughly manhandling him up onto the stage. Bishop noted they had to support the poor fellow, his legs unable to bear his own weight.

While he couldnt catch every Spanish word, it soon became clear to Bishop that Rocco was telling his supporters that the captured Salineros rider would be interrogated throughout the night and hung in the morning. He warned everyone that their sleep might be disturbed by the prisoners screaming and begging for mercy. The crowd didnt seem to mind, many of the people around Bishop calling for the man to be skinned alive right now, right there on the church steps.