Bug Out! Part 9: RV Ambush (10 page)

“Jane and Jasmine are still watching,” Jeb said. “I’ll text them, and ask that they let us know if they stop somewhere.”

“Yeah, you do that,” Malcolm said.

Jeb picked up his phone and typed.

Girls, we’re all safe, giving cretins some lead time before we go get them. Let us know if they stop anywhere. We don’t know which bridge they’re headed for.

He got an immediate response.

On it. Be careful.

“They’re on it,” Jeb said.

“Good. This is going to be a different kind of operation,” George said. “It’ll be more dangerous.”

“Yeah,” Jeb said. “We probably won’t have cover.”

“They’re going to be watching, too,” Malcolm said. “Assuming they know what we just did. And now we have that second group coming.”

“Yeah, better check on them,” Kurt said. He pulled out his phone and loaded the long range app. “They’re trying to link up. I’ll bet they’re coming to guard the folks blowing the bridge.”

“Shit,” George said. “We should go now, and take out those coaches on the road.”

“Yeah, if we wait until they’re working, we might not be able to get to them,” Malcolm said.

“Agreed. Saddle up, guys,” Jeb said. “We can probably catch up to them if we leave now.”

The men grabbed their weapons and got back in their jeeps. Heidi stayed in Jeb’s coach with Rosie this time.

Jeb led the way, Malcolm following, as they quickly drove out of the RV Park.

“We still have some grenades left, right?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah, we didn’t use any of those at the canyon,” Jackson said. “We’ve still got the mortars, too. I could set one up fast.”

“Any Willie Pete left?” Kurt asked.

“Only one,” Earl said. “The rest are conventional.”

“If that main coach is full of explosives, a regular round would be better anyway,” Jeb said. “One of you should be on the app at all times.”

“I’m on it,” Jackson said.

“Me too,” Earl said.

In Malcom’s jeep, George was trying to re-arrange the weapons.

“Ever drive this thing with the windshield folded down?” he asked.

Malcolm laughed. “I know what you’re thinking. You want to use the M107.

“Yeah, I could rest the tripod on the hood,” George said.

“Well, I think that’s a great idea, but let’s not put down that windshield until we get closer. Neither of us have goggles.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think of our friends?” Malcolm asked.

“One of the best groups I’ve ever worked with. I can’t believe they’re amateurs. They’re battle hardened.”

“Yes, but that’s not all. The support team. Frank, of course, with his apps and hacking ability, but also Jane and Jasmine and several of the others.”

“Wars aren’t only fought on the front lines,” George said.

“I’m enjoying the hell out of this, and we haven’t even gotten to the Nighthawk case yet.”

George’s phone dinged. So did Malcolm’s.

“Text coming in,” George said, pulling his phone out. “Jane. That other group of enemy fighters just got past the Denver traffic jam; they’re heading towards the other group in a hurry.”

“How far away are our targets?”

“Looks like about twenty miles. We’re gaining on them slowly but surely.”

“We’re going to beat the other group to them, though, right?” Malcolm asked.

“Oh, yeah. By over an hour,” George said. “You know they might not be heading for the demolition team, though, right? They might be going to rescue the larger team.”

“I know,” Malcolm said. “We won’t know until after we’ve taken out the demolition team.”

“Maybe we should lay off the Willie Pete this time. Might help us if their chips are still working.”

“Thinking about a trap, huh?”

“Well, yeah,” George said. “If the chips stop in a place where they shouldn’t, it might draw the larger group over to investigate.”

Malcolm laughed. “I almost wish these apps weren’t going into wide distribution. This is too much fun.”

“If they don’t, I think we’ll lose a lot of citizens.”

“I said
almost
,” Malcolm said.

George chuckled.

Back at the Kansas Park, Jane and Jasmine were still at their laptops.

“Getting tired?” Jasmine asked.

“Yeah, but we can’t stop now,” she said. “Not with our guys still in the thick of things. Hope they’re not getting too tired.”

“They’re going to beat that new group to the smaller team, at least,” Jasmine said. “What’s going on back at the canyon?”

“There was one icon that moved slowly for about twenty yards. Probably crawling. Then it stopped. I’m guessing dead or unconscious.”

“Good,” Jasmine said. “No other movement out of the Denver area?”

“Not that I can see,” Jane said. “There are still icons moving into the Denver area from the west, though.”

“Where are all these folks coming from?”

“I’ll zoom out and take a look,” Jane said. “Canada. A new route has been opened up, from the look of it.”

“The demolition team is slowing down,” Jasmine said. “I think they’re getting off the road.”

“I’ll text the guys,” Jane said. She started typing on her phone.

Enemy slowed, probably off interstate now.

“They stopped,” Jasmine said, “but there’s one problem I see.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s no river there. Not in miles and miles. What bridge are they going to blow up there? Maybe it’s not their final destination.”

“I’ll look at Google Earth. Coordinates?”

“Looks like about 41 degrees north by about 103 degrees west,” Jasmine said.

Jane studied her screen as Google Earth found it. She zoomed in.

“There it is. This is brilliant, really,” Jane said.

“What?”

“The railroad that goes into Denver,” Jane said. “It’s under an I-80 overpass. They blow that, they take out both the best rail route and a major highway route towards Denver.”

“Better text the guys,” Jasmine said.

“Yeah.”

“We’re only about three
miles out,” Jeb said. “Let’s keep our eyes open.”

“All three coaches look like they’re together,” Earl said, looking at the app.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m seeing,” Jackson said. “That other group is a long ways off. Maybe we can take out these guys, and then lay in wait for the second group.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jeb said.

Kurt’s phone rang.

“Kurt.”

“Malcolm here. We’re going to stop for just a second.”

“Why?”

“George has this hair-brained idea that we should fold the windshield down and stick the M107 out there.”

“You know, that’s a damn good idea. We’ll slow down for a few minutes.” Kurt put his phone back in his pocket.

“What?” Jeb asked.

“Slow down for a few minutes. Malcolm’s going to pull over, so they can fold the front windshield down.”

“Why?”

“So they can stick the M107 out the front and wail away at the enemy.”

Jeb started laughing. “Cool. Rat Patrol.”

“What’s Rat Patrol?” asked Jackson.

The other three men started laughing. “Kids,” Jeb said. “Wonder why they never re-run that one?”

“Good question,” Kurt said. “Always wanted a jeep when I was a kid. It was because of that show.”

“I’m surprised Earl remembers it,” Jeb said.

“My dad loved that show,” Earl said. “He bought all the episodes on VHS. I thought it was stupid until I actually sat down and watched it.”

“Somebody going to tell me about this?” Jackson asked.

“It was a show about World War II, set in North Africa,” Earl told him. “The US Army had jeeps with machine guns mounted in the back. They used them to go after the Germans. I’ll never forget the shots of those jeeps flying over sand dunes, catching air, with the machine guns blazing.”

“Oh, I get it,” Jackson said. “Cool.”

“How’s George gonna control that M107 when it’s not tied down?” Kurt asked.

“Well, I doubt that they’ll be catching any air going over sand dunes,” Jeb said, laughing. “Going down a straight smooth highway, it’s probably doable. I’d fold this one down if we didn’t have the rag top on it.”

“Here they come,” Jackson said, looking back. “Damn, the barrel on that sucker looks huge.”

“Seriously,” Earl said. “Better start slowing down. We’re getting close. Glad there’s a moon out.”

“Look, there they are, just past the off-ramp,” Kurt said. “Do we go down the ramp, or past?” Just then Kurt’s phone rang. He answered.

“See them there?”

“Yeah, Malcolm. Going down?”

“We can see all three coaches from the road. We’re going to stop and wail away at them with the M107. We’ll try to concentrate on the original coach, since we know it’s got explosives in it. Why don’t you guys go past the bridge and hit them from the other side?”

“Sounds good. We have some grenades left.”

“Perfect, Kurt. Talk to you in a few minutes.”

“Go past the bridge a little ways, then we’ll attack them from that side,” Kurt said. “Maybe lob some grenades down on them.”

Jeb nodded and kept driving, going over the bridge and down about fifty yards. “I don’t think they can see us here.” He pulled over to the side, and the men jumped out with their weapons and grenades, just as they heard the M107 open up.

“Thar she blows,” Jeb shouted. They ran over to the bridge in the darkness. One of the motorhomes was already on fire, lighting the whole area under the bridge. A second coach was smoking, but the original one was still rolling, attempting to escape down an access road. Jeb and Kurt opened up, shooting at the tires. A rifle barrel came out one of the side windows and started shooting at them, but it was too late. Two tires were done, and the coach sank. The M107 opened up on it again. Jackson ran up close to the bridge with a grenade and threw it. It didn’t get under the coach, but it got close enough. It went off about three feet on one side, and the hot shrapnel hit the gas tank, causing a fire to start. Men were running out of the door in a panic as the fire started to rage, but Malcom and George were hitting them as they ran. Then the motorhome exploded, lifting up in the air about three feet and then falling down, losing its driver’s side wall and part of the back end.

“Wow,” Jackson said. Then a bullet whizzed by his head, followed by more rounds from several other AK-47s. He dropped, and crawled over to the edge of the bridge, another grenade in his hand. He pulled the pin and tossed it down. It went off, and then there was silence, until the second motorhome caught fire. Somebody screamed from inside, and then took off running through the door. Kurt and Jeb opened up, sending him sprawling to the ground with several bullets in him.

“Got any grenades left?” Malcolm shouted.

“Yeah,” Jackson yelled back.

“See if you can roll one underneath that last coach.”

After that, several men rushed out of that coach with their hands up.

“Guess they know English. No prisoners,” Jeb shouted. All of the men opened up on them, while Jackson pulled the pin and tossed the grenade under the coach. It blew up and became an inferno right away.

“This is why we don’t want to get into a battle on the road,” Kurt said, looking at the three ruined coaches in flames. “A motorhome is a rolling tinder box.”

“Seriously,” Earl said.

They waited for a few minutes. It was silent below.

“Should we go down there and check it out?” Kurt asked.

“There might be somebody waiting for us down there,” Jackson said. “I didn’t see enough men show themselves.”

“Wait a minute, there goes George,” Jeb said, pointing. He was carrying the assault rifle that Malcolm brought.

There was some gunfire, and then some shouting in Arabic. Malcolm got behind the M107, aimed it, and fired. There were screams down below, and then another man ran out from under the bridge. Jeb’s rifle cracked, and he hit the ground dead.

“All clear,” George shouted, coming out into the open. “Let’s meet over there, in front of that bluff.”

Jeb looked over at the bluff. “I think I know what he has in mind,” he said. “We can see the whole area from there. Good place to ambush the other group.”

“
If
the other group comes here,” Kurt said. “I’m still not convinced they’re on their way here. I think they might have been sent to the canyon.”

“Well, let’s go over there and see what they’re thinking,” Jeb said. The men walked back to their jeep and took off across the bridge, linking up with Malcolm and George on the other side.

“Nicely done,” Jeb said, getting out of the jeep. The others bailed out, and looked up at the bluff. “You’re thinking we should take the jeeps up there?”

“Good vantage point, from the look of things down here,” Malcolm said.

“If they’re sending forty men, they’re going to be in a lot of vehicles,” Kurt said. “We might be biting off more than we can chew, unless we can wait until they go down under the bridge and bunch up. I wouldn’t count on that, unless they’re really stupid.”

Jeb’s phone dinged. “Text message coming in,” he said, pulling the phone out of his pocket. He got a strange look on his face, a mixture of fear and relief.

“What is it?” George asked.

“The second group of cretins turned around. They’re high-tailing it back to the Denver area.”

“They know we can see them,” Malcolm said.

“I’d say that’s a pretty sure bet,” Kurt said. “What now?”

“Let’s go back to the RV Park and get some shut-eye,” George said. “Then go to Kansas in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Kurt said. “We’ll be able to see anybody else coming.”

“I’m good with that,” Jeb said. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m bushed.”

The men got back into their jeeps and headed for Sidney.

Howard drove the Class C east on the interstate, until they were just outside of Kansas City. He pulled off onto a small highway. The bedroom was still noisy. Lots of bumping noises and grunts, but no more screams. He hoped she wasn’t dead yet. That wouldn’t do. There was a dirt road coming up, which curved off into a stand of trees several hundred yards down, bordering the back pasture of a farm. He turned onto that and drove the heavily rutted road, the coach bouncing and creaking, pots and pans making noise in the kitchen cabinets. He slowed down some more, but he wanted to go faster. He couldn’t wait to get back there. Suddenly the bedroom door slid open.