Eden's Hammer (12 page)

CHAPTER 11

March 12, evening

R
ex gathered his team leaders
for a debriefing of the day’s exercises. “Men, we’re getting closer to Fort Brazos every day. Closer to all that food and all those women. By now, they have an idea that we are heading toward them. I expect them to send out scouts to spy on us and perhaps engage us in some tests. They’ll want to see what our tactics are when attacked. If they do, it’ll be a quick hit and run ambush; they won’t have their full force out this far.

“I want those scouts captured alive at all costs, and I do mean at
all
costs. I want them alive—be very clear on that point. Kill one of their scouts, and you’re going to have to face me. Bring them to me alive, and your reward will be extraordinary. I want them alive, all of them, for my interrogation. What they can tell me is far more important than you can imagine. If they attack, return fire as you ordinarily would, but do not aim at them, aim near them. I want them to think you are reacting normally and shooting at them. Immediately send runners up and down the line to order the nearby groups to commence encircling them.

“Those of you that will be encircling them, put out a net completely around them, dropping off men wherever appropriate, but do not fire at them unless they are trying to escape. If you fire at them, fire in front of them to try to herd them back into the circle. When the circle is complete, start drawing in closer until they surrender. I cannot stress this enough: I want them alive. I don’t care how many men you lose in the process. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir!” they all responded.

“Good,” Rex replied. “Tomorrow morning we’ll practice. Choose two men to act as the aggressors, live fire exercise. The two men will, of course, fire above our heads, and our return fire will be directed near to but not at them. We’ll repeat this exercise until everyone reacts swiftly and correctly . I’ll be observing and correcting until you get it right. Dismissed.”

Rex watched the men leave as they went back to their groups. He thought,
sooner or later, Adrian will be out to scout for himself. He’ll have to; it’s his way to see the enemy with his own eyes before engaging. With a little luck, I might catch him early on. Maybe.

Later that night, Rex went back to his tent and unpacked his “Adrian bag,” as he thought of it, checking each item, fondling them with delight. He checked every nut and bolt on the take-apart crossbow. Rex thought back to the only time he had fought Adrian. It had been in a bar. He had watched Adrian for hours, drinking and celebrating a successful mission accomplished with his crew. Rex hadn’t killed in weeks, and he was tense. Watching Adrian laughing and carrying on wound his tension up to the boiling point, and Rex had snapped.

He shouldn’t have taken Adrian head on; he knew it was giving himself away, but he couldn’t help it that night. Adrian had exactly one advantage over Rex: Adrian was faster. Adrian’s reflex time was unbelievable, and Rex knew it. Still, he attacked, and because Adrian had been drinking a lot more than Rex, the fight was nearly even for a few moments. Rex got in several good, hard blows, blows that seemed to bounce off of Adrian with no effect. Adrian was faring no better against Rex, however.

Then Rex’s foot had slipped in a wet spot, and Adrian had taken advantage of it, knocking Rex out.

Over the ensuing years, Rex had gone over and over that fight
. If I hadn’t slipped
, he thought,
I would have beaten him, sure as hell.
He acknowledged that it had been a strategic error. Adrian had kept a closer eye on Rex after that. Otherwise, Rex would have surely had an opportunity to implement his plan. As it was, he tried to maintain a lower profile, waiting for Adrian’s attention to fade or slip. In time, he was sure it would have, but the grid collapse had happened first, and Rex lost track of Adrian in the aftermath.

March 13, evening

Rex watched from a hilltop as his men encircled the two mock attackers. It was the third run, and the men had finally gotten it right. The first one had been a clusterfuck, one of the men being killed in the process. The second went better, but not well enough. This one had gone smoothly, the men rapidly stringing out the net and then slowly drawing it tighter until the two aggressors had no option but to surrender or die. Rex was pleased. He wanted Adrian so bad he could taste it.

After the exercise, he would return the men to their march on Fort Brazos. Capturing Adrian wouldn’t be easy, but it would be done, come hell or high water. Rex was contemplating what he would do to Adrian when his second in command cleared his throat to get Rex’s attention.

“What?” Rex snapped with irritation. “What the hell do you want?”

“Orders for tomorrow, sir?” Frank replied calmly. He was used to Rex’s irritability, though not quite immune to it. He knew that he maintained his high position because he was willing to confront Rex, but only to a certain degree. He was also aware there was a line that he dared not cross, and he was careful not to. He was aware that Rex valued his confrontational style because it kept things moving smoothly, and kept Rex from having to attend to the details himself. Rex’s frequent mental withdrawals and emotional outbursts would otherwise have had things moving in fits and starts.

“We return to the march on Fort Brazos in the morning. These idiots took all day to get this simple exercise right. Jesus, I wish I had better men than this.”

Frank replied carefully, “They’re the best of a generally poor lot, sir. On the bright side, though, they are certainly killers. They don’t hesitate to do that.”

Rex looked at Frank for a long, tense moment. “Are you trying to tell me my business? Do you think I don’t know what we have?”

Frank, not backing down the way the rest of the men would have, said, “No sir, just pointing out the facts. I’ll give the order to move out in the morning as usual, sir.” Not waiting to be dismissed, Frank turned to leave, thinking,
Psycho, pure psycho. But he’s our psycho, and he’s damned effective. I pity the poor fools at Fort Brazos.

CHAPTER 12

March 14, late afternoon

A
s the two men drew
closer, Adrian was able to make them out. From the way they moved, taking no care to be stealthy, and their two small caliber rifles, Adrian was sure they were refugees.

Adrian whispered, “I make them out as refugees. They’ll pass a little to the north of us. I don’t want to waste anymore time, and talking to them would take too long. As soon as they get behind that tree line, let’s move out.”

They traveled the rest of the day without incident. They camped that night without a fire. After eating a cold meal, Tim pulled out a flask and took a long swig. He saw Adrian looking at him and said, “What? You’ve never seen a man drink before?” He took another long swig and then screwed the cap back on the flask. “Son, I was doing this shit when your dad was a puppy. I know how much to drink and when.” He proffered the flask to Adrian.

Adrian took the flask, unscrewed the top, and took two short swigs, then handed it to Jerry. Jerry took it and handed it back over to Tim. “No thanks, I’ll wait ‘til we get back. God knows what kind of cooties you have, old man.”

Tim snorted and smiled, then said, “You may have a point there, youngster, you just may have a point.”

They stood the same watches as the previous night, then hit the trail early the next morning.

Two hours after sunrise, Adrian said, “There’s our rendezvous point—that grove of trees just south of the water tower.”

When they arrived, Adrian and his companions spread out and slowly entered the tree line. Bollinger called out from inside the grove, “Adrian, over here.”

The five men joined up. Adrian asked, “How far away are they?”

Bollinger said, “A day’s march will put you in sight of them.”

Clif nodded in agreement.

Adrian replied, “Show me on the map. Anything new to report?”

Bollinger said, “Naw, just the same old, same old. They’re moving a little faster over this flat land, but not much.” After conferring over the map, Adrian said, “Ok, you two go back and send out the next two. We’ll meet them at the farm with the big red barn. The one next to Highway 22, by the creek. Okay?”

“Got it,” Clif said.

Adrian, Jerry, and Tim set out as Clif and Bollinger headed back. Adrian maintained the same pace as before, knowing it would only take them a day to get in sight of the raiders, since the raiders would also be moving toward them. That would leave them two days to scout, and just enough time to meet up at the barn.

They traveled all day, then set up a cold camp that night. When Adrian took his watch, he thought about Linda. She was an attractive woman with her copper hair and blue eyes. She had a near perfect figure, slim and trim, but curved in all the right places. He shook his head.
What in hell am I thinking about? Last thing I need or want is to get involved with a woman. Alice isn’t even cold in her grave yet; it’s only been a bit over a year. The way she acts around me is cold and irritable, anyway. Obviously, whatever it is that I feel isn’t returned. Got to stop thinking about her; too much on my plate as it is.

With a conscious effort, Adrian wrested his thoughts away from Linda and focused on tomorrow’s activities. “We’ll see the raiders tomorrow, and if the setup is right, we’ll hit them with a quick ambush and draw back to see how they react.” He continued planning how to set up the ambush, what kind of terrain they would need, and what time of day would be best. After a little while, though, his thoughts returned to Linda.
Damn it!
What’s with this? I have to keep a clear mind and not get bogged down by thoughts of a woman I don’t want and who doesn’t want me.

The next morning when the sun was up, they could see a plume of smoke to their east, about half a day’s march. The raiders were burning another house, making them easy to find.

At midday, they were in position to see the raiders from a small rise in terrain they lay on. Adrian watched with his binoculars, careful not to let the sunlight glint off of them. He could see men leaving a burning house; it looked like it had been abandoned long ago. Adrian said to Tim and Jerry, “You know, I keep wondering why they burn every house they come to. Maybe it’s so they can more or less keep track of each other. They sure don’t seem to be sneaking around. It’s a wonder they ever find anyone home, the way they’re going about this. It doesn’t make sense—it’s as though they want everyone to know they’re coming. It doesn’t add up to a hill of beans.”

March 16, late afternoon

After watching for two hours, Adrian said, “These guys don’t change their habits, do they? Let’s move down the line and find the middle area; maybe we can find the command group.”

That afternoon, they had reached a spot where they could spy on the middle of the line, but without having spotted the command group. Adrian said, “They look like they’re done for the day; they’re setting up camp. Let’s talk about doing a probe. I’m thinking that we wait until dark, then move in close, following that dry creek bed. First light, we open up on this group, take out a couple, and raise some general hell. Then skedaddle back to that high spot a mile southwest of here and watch to see what happens. Tim, you could set up right here and pick off a few to give us cover as we move back, then join us at that old bridge over there. We’ll head for the hill together from there. What do you think?”

Tim said, “I can hit them from here, all right, as long as they aren’t moving around too fast. If they get after you in a fast chase, I can slow them down, but don’t count on me taking them all out for you.”

Jerry said, “If you start shooting at them with that big cannon of yours, they’ll think twice about chasing after us. When we get halfway to the bridge, you stop firing and move over to meet us. We should arrive at the bridge at the same time. We have two good positions before we get to the hill to fire back and slow them: that bend there and that one there,” Jerry said, pointing. “But if they’re really aggressive, we may be in for a long day of running.”

Adrian said, “If they get too hard on our tail, Tim will head back for the barn on his own while you and I draw them off to the southwest by firing and running. You and I can outrun them, I think. I know we can lose them after we cross that other big creek; it’s got thick brush on the other side. Then we’ll swing around from there and meet Tim back at the barn. We’ve burnt one of our last two days, so all we have left is tomorrow and then we have to head back. Mostly what I want to see is how the other groups react, and maybe spot the command group.”

Tim replied, “Sounds like a plan to me. I’m itching to get in a little shooting. If possible, I’ll pick off their leader first. I’m pretty sure it’s that tall fella.”

Adrian said, “All right, then. Come dark, Jerry, and I’ll work into position while you wait here. As soon as we stop shooting, you start. If you get a clean shot at the tall guy, go ahead and take it anytime after we start shooting, otherwise wait until we stop. We’re only going to fire two rounds each, and then hightail it out of there. One of the worst mistakes ambushers make is hanging around too long. I know of guerrillas that only load two rounds in their magazines so they don’t get too caught up in the action—it’s a smart move.”

Tim said, “If that fella shows me something to aim at, there won’t be a nickel’s worth of dog meat left of him one second later. These half-inch chunks of lead tear up a lot of territory when they hit. So start slow, that way maybe he won’t take cover too fast.”

March 17, dawn

Adrian and Jerry picked their main targets, but waited for four men to be open targets at the same time. It was a tense wait. Two or three would occasionally be open at a time, but not four. Adrian had begun to think that they would have to settle for two or three when suddenly, four were in the open. Four shots, sounding like one single long blast, roared from the creek bed. Four men fell. Then the tall man seemed to be picked up off his feet as a huge spray of red mist filled the air behind him. Adrian and Jerry were already on their feet and running back up the dry wash when the sound of the .50 caliber shot filled the air. By the time they had covered a hundred yards, the .50 had fired twice more, then fell silent.

Tim arrived at the bridge just seconds ahead of Adrian and Jerry. The three men ran up the dry creek bed another hundred yards and then left it to head for the hill. They made good time getting to it, using all the cover available. When they got there, Tim was exhausted. Adrian got his binoculars out and started scanning the areas he thought they might come from. As soon as he noted that Tim had caught his breath, Adrian said, “Tim, you head on to the barn now. Go in a straight line. Jerry and I will wait here until we see movement. If they’re coming fast, we’ll play rabbit with them and draw them away, then disappear and meet you at the barn as soon as we can. Don’t shoot unless you have to. If you hear us shooting, you’ll know about where we are, but keep going. Got it?”