[Author's note: this chapter was written in response to some readers' comments on another forum. They seemed to believe I wasn't taking into account the darker side of the collapse of monolith government (is there a dark side to the collapse of a monolith government?) and that all was happy and light in this brave, new world. I wrote this to show just what capabilities are out here in the hands of the 'common man.' BTW, there is as of yet no Chapter 6.]
It was 0135 hours, and as Mike-1 approached the sentry post from behind, he snorted to himself in disgust. He could see them clearly playing cards and drinking from bottles, probably home-brew beer. The lamp on the table would have destroyed their night vision for the first critical few seconds. Quietly he rose to his feet about ten yards from them and checked to see if his assault rifle was ‘on-safe.’
As he did so, both men rose to their feet and turned to face him. The older one addressed him.
“Hey, Mike-1, took you long enough to cross that last hundred yards. My name’s Jerry, and how you react in the next few seconds will determine whether you live or die. You can die where you stand right now, or you can point that -16 at the ground and listen to your mistakes.”
Mike-1 heard a hammer being pulled back to his right, and turned his head slightly to see a dark-clothed man holding what appeared to be a large-caliber semi-automatic pistol pointed straight at Mike-1’s head. Mike-1 was unable to determine the actual make and model, however, due to the rather large can-style silencer attached to the barrel.
Mike-1 grudgingly lowered the barrel, certain his team in the shadows could salvage the mission. He’d learn what he could, then blow away these bumpkins when the opportunity presented itself.
Jerry smiled and continued.
“I don’t know what you think you’ve stumbled into, but you’re wrong. We’ve had you and your team made from five miles out. You’re not the only ones out here with night vision and comm skills. Speaking of night vision, we’ve been ‘playing cards’ with our eyes closed for the last ten minutes, just to dope you out. Worked, didn’t it?”
Mike-1 began to get angry, but he was damned if he’d let these guys see it.
This time Jerry smiled to himself. Everything they’d drilled so far had been working. He and Ralph had positioned themselves so that one, he couldn’t shoot them both without shifting his stance significantly and, two, their faces were in shadow, and the intruder’s face was well-lighted from the lantern. Mike-1’s eyes had narrowed and his lips had tightened almost imperceptibly, and Jerry knew he had gotten to him.
“Didn’t you wonder when I addressed you as ‘Mike-1?’ We’ve been monitoring your comm chatter for quite a while now. We’ve already got your frequencies and call signs, we’ve got somebody inside your operations.”
This last was pure bluff. Their security scanners had picked up this team’s communications while still at a distance, but Jerry wanted to spread discord into this bogey's operations when, or if, he was sent back with his tail between his legs.
Jerry got serious.
“Now, listen to the rules. Your ‘dark-of-the-night’ entry tactics are considered unfriendly. Anything less than absolute strict obediance to whatever I say next will be considered an act of war and will be dealt with accordingly. Understand? Good!”
“You have walked into a free zone protected by a team calling itself ‘Mama’s Boys,’ for reasons you are unlikely to ever know. Your team of three men and yourself are under arrest. On my command you will lay down your weapons and come forward with your hands behind your heads. Your weapons and comm gear will be confiscated, your id will be logged as your frequencies and call signs have been already, and you will be turned out of town, never to return upon pain of death. Consider this counting coup, and be glad we don’t use the time-honored method of the indigenous peoples here.”
Jerry grinned again.
“Depending on how much trouble you give me and my men, there is a small chance you will be stripped of everything but your boots before you start your long walk home.”
He got serious.
“Now pay attention. Your exact orders are: Comm your men and tell them, in clear, to lay down their weapons at arm’s length, get to their feet, put their arms behind their necks and walk slowly to this spot. They are all under observation at this moment.”
“You’re bluffing.” Mike-1 said in a brusque manner.
Without raising his voice from a conversational tone, Jerry said “10, Have we still got everyone covered?”
A double-click came from the commset at Jerry’s waist.
“Call my bluff, if you dare,” Jerry said evenly.
Mike-1 took about ten seconds to think about it, then pressed his own transmit button.
“Mike-1 to Mike. Lay down your weapons at arm’s length, get to your feet, put your hands behind your necks and walk to my location.” He paused. “Authentication X-Ray.”
There was about five seconds of silence.
Crack! Crack!
Crack!
“Well, looks like either your men don’t follow orders too well, or you don’t,” Jerry said grimly. “Want to take roll call?”
The rage that had been building up in Mike-1 over-rode his sense, and he barely had his weapon halfway up when the .45 slug slapped him in the side of the head and ended his life.
Jerry shook his head, and spoke into his vox headset.
“Report.”
“2. Target dead.”
“3. Target dead.”
“6. Target dead.”
“10. Target dead, all bogeys accounted for, good work guys,” Jerry said into his own set. “7, bring up four body-bags, and notify burial detail in the morning.”
“These guys think they know it all,” Jerry said, mostly to himself. “We may look like farmboys, but apparently they’ve never heard of ‘protective coloration.’”
Jerry looked again at the fallen rogue in front of him, and smiled wryly.
