Reclamation (Best Laid Plans Book 4) (34 page)

Tom drove them right up to the command tent, where half a dozen Marines were waiting, including Williams. The corporal nodded at Trev as he and Mason jumped off the back. “We'll guard the prisoners, Smith. Sarge wants to see you.”

“All right. Thanks.” Trev started for the tent.

As he passed Williams the man caught his arm. “He's pissed,” he warned in a low voice.

Trev wasn't surprised. He nodded his appreciation for the heads up as he ducked into the tent. Inside Davis stood hunched over the map table glaring down at the detailed map he'd cobbled together, but he didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular. As soon as Trev entered he lifted his head, glaring.

“Care to explain the stunt you just pulled?”

It took a lot to keep calm under that scrutiny, especially since Trev wasn't exactly sure what the problem was. “Stunt?”

The sergeant reddened slightly, but he kept his tone disconcertingly polite. “What else would you call arresting US citizens?”

Ah. “Fred Vernon, former Sheriff of Newtown, and his former deputies who aided him in committing crimes, are guilty. Just like I told you when I radioed in. I have eight witnesses who can testify to that, and that I had good reason to arrest him.”

“You don't have the authority!” Davis snapped, finally starting to lose his cool.

“With all due respect, you confirmed my position as leader of my squad and sent me to guard that road however I could. I assumed I had a bit of leeway when it comes to authority. Besides, even citizens have the right to arrest suspected criminals and turn them over to law enforcement.”

“And what should we do with them? Shove them in a big cage in the middle of camp and waste time and resources guarding and feeding them when we have a war to fight?” The sergeant rubbed his forehead. “How many men does Vernon have with him?”

Trev hesitated. “Thirteen.”

“So that's fourteen well armed and supplied men coming to volunteer in the fight against the blockheads, assuming that part of your report was also correct. You realize that's probably not happening now?” Trev had no answer for that, and Davis sighed. “Fine. Tell me exactly what they did that you just couldn't look past.”

Trev quickly explained obtaining the truck from the Gold Bloc internment camp and the decision to enter Newtown for supplies, as well as Fred Vernon's highly vaunted reputation. Then he described having the truck taken at gunpoint and the “payment” the sheriff tossed at them as if it made it all okay, and Vernon and his men abandoning the town in the stolen truck.

Once he was done Davis shook his head. “Downright civilized compared to some of the atrocities I've heard about,” he growled. “You realize we're fighting a better supplied, better equipped, better trained, and numerically superior enemy force and need all the help we can get? Is his crime worth canceling out the assistance he and his men could provide?”

“I-” Trev hesitated. “That's up to you to decide, sir.”

Davis swore at him, then yelled for one of his Marines waiting outside. “Go grab our car thief.” The soldier saluted and left.

After a minute of tense silence the same Marine pulled the entry flap aside to let Vernon through. Aside from his hands still being bound the former sheriff didn't look much like a prisoner, with his shoulders back and his back straight. Even his cowboy hat was on straight.

Davis motioned to his soldier, who cut the zip ties binding the man's hands. Vernon nodded his thanks and rubbed at his wrists to restore circulation, and when Davis waved him forward he came to stand next to Trev without hesitation. Meanwhile the Marine settled into an at ease position near the entrance, eyes on the former sheriff and hand on his sidearm. So it wasn't all rolling out the red carpet.

“Fred Vernon, right?” the sergeant asked. Vernon nodded. “Mr. Smith has told me his side of things. Now I want to hear yours.”

The former sheriff glanced over at Trev. “I like to think I have a handle on Trevor's honesty. I'm willing to accept that he told you the truth.”

Trev took half a step back from the man, completely shocked. He didn't know what he'd expected, but it wasn't that.

Davis looked surprised as well. “You admit you and your men stole his family's truck and possessions at gunpoint, then robbed and abandoned the town you'd committed to protect?”

“Yes.”

The sergeant glanced over at Trev, then back at the former sheriff. “Smith tells me you were headed south to Mexico. How did you end up here?”

“Only partly by choice.” Vernon looked at the ground, and his expression actually seemed a bit haunted. “We got pretty close to Mexico and what we thought was safety, only to learn that the Gold Bloc already had an army there. Tens, maybe hundreds of thousands of soldiers.”

“BS,” Trev snapped. “We haven't heard anything about an army in Mexico.”

Vernon glanced at Davis, who surprisingly hadn't reacted to the news. “Then you're about to have a very unpleasant surprise. The army's had the southern US in a massive cordon for weeks now, snatching up any refugees fleeing from the Gold Bloc forces coming down from the north. Those poor people are caught between hammer and anvil and from what I've heard it's beyond brutal. My men and I were lucky to get away ourselves, and we wouldn't have without the truck. We had to fight every mile of the way to break through to Utah from New Mexico.”

Trev grit his teeth. “You know the people of Newtown are some of those “refugees” fleeing south, right? Deb, Clara, Max, even Westman and his barflies.”

The former sheriff flinched, and his haunted expression became almost haggard. “I'd figured as much.”

“Let's set that aside for now,” Davis abruptly said. “You and your men want to volunteer, Mr. Vernon?”

“Yes.” Vernon finally looked up, fighting to regain his calm. “I wanted to run with my men, but it looks like that's not possible. The only option left is to fight, so that's what we're going to do.”

“You're dead right about that.” The sergeant settled back against his desk, arms folded across his chest. “We could use everyone who's willing to fight alongside us. Especially people who can handle themselves.”

“Wait, hold on,” Trev said incredulously. “Are you seriously going to trust him? He told you himself he'd run if he could, and he's already proven it once.”

Davis shot him a hard look. “The point is that he's here.”

“Until he finds something better and runs off! This is the guy who abandoned the town he swore to protect as soon as he could steal a vehicle with fuel.”

Vernon clenched his jaw. “He's not wrong,” he said grudgingly. “I don't expect you to believe that I feel guilty about that, and for more reason than just because we couldn't run south like we'd planned. But whether you believe me or not I
do
feel guilty. I watched a blockhead convoy massacre a group of refugees and couldn't do anything about it, and I had to accept the fact that I'd probably left my friends and neighbors to the same fate.”

“Well in that case welcome aboard,” Trev said sarcastically.

“Give it a rest, Smith!” Davis barked. “I'm already pissed at you, don't give me a reason to really lose my temper.”

Trev hesitated, then nodded and stepped back. He wasn't doing his case any good antagonizing the sergeant, and anyway he was starting to sound spiteful. Justice was on his side, he'd have to be content with that.

Davis gave him a final glare, then turned to Vernon. “Here's the deal, Sheriff. You and your men can join, and punishment for your crime is waived as long as you're with us, all the way to however this war ends. You will, however, return the truck and all remaining fuel to Mr. Smith, and anything else you took, at which point he will generously pass them on to the military until such time as we no longer need them.”

The sergeant paused to look at both of them. Trev nodded, since he hadn't expected to get the truck or anything on it back in the first place, and Vernon nodded as well.

Davis continued. “The other supplies you brought with you from Newtown are likely also stolen, but that's just fine because you've already generously offered to donate them to the military. You can keep your weapons and other equipment as long as you fight with us, and once this war's over they're yours to keep.”

Vernon glanced at Trev. “What about the gold I paid him for the vehicle?”

Davis slammed his fist down on the table behind him. “You can't pay for something you stole!” he snapped. “If Smith wants to return it to you that's his choice, but as far as I'm concerned that gold is a gift, or you could consider it reparation for the suffering and danger you put the man's family through.” He motioned for the Marine waiting by the door to escort Vernon out. “Get your men settled, Sheriff. I'll talk to you more then, give you an idea of what we expect of you and fill you in on what you need to know. Oh, and welcome to the Rockies.”

Once Vernon was gone Davis whirled to Trev. “You going to have a problem with that?”

Trev hesitated. He thought the sergeant was making a mistake, but if Davis had made up his mind then that was probably that. “If you think he can be trusted then I'll trust your judgment. I just hope you won't let your guard down with him. I certainly won't.”

The sergeant swore at him again. “I like you, Smith. You're the kind of person I can respect, and you and your people do your jobs well. I don't even blame you for seeking justice.” He pointed an accusing finger at Trev's chest. “But you and your Aspen Hill irregulars came in with a deserter from the US Army who'd spent the winter robbing innocent people! Remember that?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Trev said reluctantly. And unfortunately it was a pretty good point.

“You expected me to look past that because Gutierrez had earned your trust and was trying to pay for his mistakes, and you were lucky because my orders
were
to look past it, if he was willing to fight for us. And you know what? I looked past it.” Davis waved vaguely at the tent's entrance. “So do the same for Vernon and his people and don't let me hear about you causing problems. Understood?”

Trev couldn't think of a way to argue with that. “Understood. Hopefully he'll do the same.”

“He better,” the sergeant growled. “We ignore past crimes, we don't ignore current ones. Those we come down on like a ton of bricks.” He reached behind him and absently tapped his map. “On the subject of keeping you apart, I hope you realize he was going to be your reinforcements at Cedar Creek. Next group of volunteers to show up, right? But I guess you'll have to wait a little longer for more fighters.”

That was something he could've done without hearing. “Couldn't you reassign people from another camp and swap him out there?”

“No,” Davis said, with finality. He rounded his desk to lean over his map again, obviously considering the meeting over. Trev stayed where he was, though, waiting patiently until the man finally looked up. “What?”

“Vernon was telling the truth about the army coming north out of Mexico,” Trev said, “and you knew about it.”

Davis set his jaw. “And?” Instead of answering Trev just waited in silence, and finally the sergeant growled in annoyance. “We haven't known about it for long. The blockheads managed to sneak it into Mexico without anyone on our side knowing. A hundred thousand conscripts from newly inducted Gold Bloc countries, who were just positioning themselves in Mexico to push northward when the Retaliation happened. Since then, as best we can tell they've taken Texas, Louisiana, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Arizona, New Mexico, and the parts of California that aren't irradiated slag. And from our reports Vernon's spot on about how they're treating the refugees fleeing their way.”

A sudden realization struck Trev. “That's why Erikson pulled back to Utah. If the blockheads have a force that big coming up from Mexico they could've easily pushed right between the two arms of the Rockies where we'd set up, dividing our forces.”

Davis nodded. “Yeah, that's right.”

“So why didn't you guys tell us that?” Trev demanded. “We all thought either Erikson had suffered some major defeat you weren't telling us about, or he'd just retreated with his tail between his legs and put up barely a fight.”

The sergeant's eyes narrowed. “Morale, Smith. Our soldiers are having a hard enough time fighting on against a vastly superior force that's already swallowed up most of our country. You want to tell them that on top of that there's nearly a hundred thousand more blockheads coming up from the south that none of us knew about? Who'd stayed so well hidden from us that not a single nuke targeted them during the Retaliation, leaving them completely intact with all their equipment and plenty of supplies?”

Unfortunately that wasn't the worst argument. Lassiter and Erikson had done their best to scrape together every single available soldier they could find all over the country who'd managed to survive the chaos, as well as recruit as many civilian volunteers as they could find, and their forces still barely numbered over 100,000 people.

If those brave defenders found out that the enemy that already outnumbered them 10 to 1 had a fresh army as large as their entire ragtag group that no one had even known about, that was about to flank them from an entirely new direction, that would be more than disheartening.

“That's why General Lassiter's got as many people here in the south as General Erikson is positioning up north, even though most of the blockheads we knew about were coming from up there,” Trev guessed. “He has to hold our flank.”

“If he can,” Davis said grimly. He slumped down on the cheap metal stool behind his map table, vacantly staring down at the wrinkled paper. “The casualties in Colorado massively favored us, but the blockheads were still positioning themselves and hadn't even started really throwing bodies at us to try to break our defenses.”

The sergeant sucked in a breath. “Once they do that here we'll be closed in, and the casualty numbers are going to get worse as they grind us down and we use up all our fuel and munitions. If we can't outlast them they'll bury us like a tide coming in, and that'll be it for the US.”

Trev was a strong believer in the mindset of knowing the reality of a situation so he could deal with it. But at the moment he almost wished he wasn't hearing any of this. It made defending his little canyon seem a lot less useful to the overall war.