Resistance: A Prepper's War (5 page)

Jim was pacing back and forth in the small station room where him, Coyle, Brett, and Twink were staying while preparing for their mission with Samantha. He was speaking into his phone as he strode across the room. “You’re sure,” Jim said.

Locke leaned forward on his desk with the phone pressed against the side of his face as he answered. “It’s a hunch,” he said.

Coyle kept looking at Jim pace back and forth. It was making him nervous. Coyle leaned into Twink who was loading ammo into clips. “I don’t think it’s a good phone call,” he said.

Twink didn’t look up at Coyle as he continued to load the bullets into the empty magazines strewn about the table. “When was the last time any of us got a
good
phone call?” he asked.

“Your mom called me to come over last night,” Coyle whispered back at him. “That was pretty good.”

Twink stopped loading the magazines and eyed Coyle who flashed him a shit-eating grin smile. Twink paused for a moment and then went back to loading the clips.

“What did we find on Brenner?” Jim asked.

Locke pulled up his file on the screen. “We didn’t find any direct correlation between Brenner and Matt, but after some digging we saw that PamTech was a shell corporation under one of Brenner’s many ‘business’ ventures. Currently most of Brenner’s resources are tied up in renewable energy.”

“Seems too neat,” Jim said.

“That’s what we thought, so we dug a little deeper into the financials and found that the solar, wind, and water factories that he started had little to zero material for actual renewable energy,” Locke explained.

“Where are we at with the codes Samantha gave us?” Jim asked.

Chris walked in and handed him Locke a file. Locke gave him a nod and set it down on his desk. “We were right about the chemical warfare. Brenner’s been stockpiling all of the ingredients for VX nerve gas for the past three years,” he said. “He has weekly shipments to his chemical plant in San Diego where we think he’s storing it.”

“Christ,” Jim whispered to himself. “Do we know how much he has?”

“It’s enough to wipe out all of California if he wanted to,” Locke replied. Then after a pause he said, “Jim, this guy’s smart. We found out that he got a congressman to sponsor a bill looking into our missions. I haven’t fought it because I know it won’t pass, but he put it out there to see whose desk it would float across.”

Jim was having second thoughts about bringing Samantha into this, but it was too late to turn back now. Samantha and Chase were meeting in less than an hour. “We’ll keep our heads up,” Jim replied.

“Good luck, Jim,” Locke said and then the call ended.

Jim glanced down at his phone to check the time. He slipped it back into his pocket and went over to the table where Twink was still loading the clips. “We head out in fifteen,” he said as he glanced at the men in the small operations room. “Be ready.”

Samantha took a left at a traffic light and headed down one of the main highways that would take her to her destination. Annie had already left for Matt’s aunt and uncle’s and Jim had four men watching the house. She wasn’t sure what she was getting herself into, but she wanted to know the truth, she was sure of that. She just wished she had handled her interaction with Jim better. She knew he must be hurting. She saw it on his face.

“Stop it,” she said to herself as she tried to shake off the thoughts racing through her mind. She had to stay focused. If all of the theories and everything that Jim thought were right, the people that she was about to interact with were very dangerous.

The closer she got to her destination the tighter her hands gripped the steering wheel. The buildings around her were thinning out the further north she drove. What was once a bustling metropolis area soon turned into rural farms and a few factory warehouses. She checked the GPS and saw she was only ten minutes out. She reached for her phone and dialed Jim’s number per his instructions.

“Hey,” he answered.

“I’m almost there,” she responded as she tried to sound confident.

Jim was tucked into the back of a surveillance van with Twink and Coyle. He was a half a mile from the location, but he had Brett there on the ground in case anything happened.

“I just spoke with Brett. He’s already there, so you just go in and get as much info as you can. Don’t press it though. You don’t want to act like you’re trying too hard,” Jim said.

“I know,” she said. “Jim, about Matt’s funeral,” she started, but Jim cut her off.

“We can talk about it after we finish this.” It wasn’t that Jim didn’t want to talk about it. He just understood what needed to be done now, and he couldn’t have her getting soft right before facing these people.

“Okay,” she said as she let out a breath and she tried to get into character. She hung up the phone and slid it into her cup holder. She kept both hands on the wheel as she breathed in through her nose and slowly out through her mouth.

Jim slid the phone back into his cargo pant pocket. He reached up to his radio piece and clicked on the receiver. “Brett,” Jim said.

Brett was lying down in a tall patch of grass on the edge of the building where he had an eye on two of the guards outside the front door. “Copy, Jim,” he whispered.

“She’s ten minutes out,” Jim said.

Brett shifted the scope on his rifle to check the other end of the building. “Roger that,” he said and then made sure to click the radio off. “Next time I’ll sit in the van and someone else can lie perfectly still for over three hours. God I have to pee,” he whispered to himself.

Back at the base Locke’s unit was busy researching all facets of Chase Brenner’s corporations, materials, taxes, anything they could get their hands on.
 

Kate was lying on her back on the cot in her cell. The lumps in the mattress caused her body to elevate and sink in random places. Her dirty, gray jump suit hadn’t been changed in over a week and the cuts on her face were still fresh. Her left blood shot eye roamed the concrete ceiling. The dim florescent light flickered above her as she lightly drummed her fingers on her stomach.

A soldier leaned back in his chair as he occasionally glanced at the monitors streaming live video of the prisoners cell block and then went back to his hunting magazine. He thumbed through the pages when out of the corner of his eye he saw the first screen go dark, then the second, third, and then the other six. He jumped out of his chair and reached for his radio.

Kate had her eyes closed when she heard the click of her cell unlock and then saw the door cracked open. Her eyes popped open and a smile ran across her face as a knife slid through the opening.

Locke was at his desk when he heard the first shots fired down the hall in the cell block. He reached for his pistol in this desk and clicked the safety off. He crouched below the windows of his office and peaked over the top and saw a few MPs rush through the door and make a stand behind a few desks they flipped over.

Gunshots were blasting in both directions as Locke saw the door to his office crack open. He saw a pistol creep through the small opening and then as the door opened wider he saw the toe of a boot, leg, and then…

“Chris,” Locke whispered in relief. Locke’s assistant crouched down to make sure he was okay.

“I’m fine,” Locke shouted over the gunfire behind him.

“General, I need to get you out of here!” Chris shouted.

Locke shook his head. “No!” he shouted. “Get on the radio for back up. We can’t let them leave this facility.”

And just then Kate bust through the door holding a pistol she’d stolen from the weapons cache they raided. When she glanced down at the two men Locke opened fire and she jumped behind Locke’s desk. Bullets splintered holes into the wood as Locke emptied his clip.

Then Locke noticed the quiet behind him. The firing had ceased. Locke peaked over the wall through the window and saw a dozen soldiers dead on the ground and the prisoners making their way towards them.

Locke turned to Chris. “Chris, we’ve got-,” and then Locke’s words halted as he felt the cold steel of Chris’s 9mm pistol on the side of his temple.

“Get up, General,” Chris ordered with a taste of bitterness in his voice.

Locke slowly rose and the other prisoners piled into Locke’s office with their guns pointed at him. Chris snatched the pistol out of Locke’s hand and his hands fell limp to his sides.

Kate jumped onto Locke’s desk, strutted over it and landed on the ground in front of him. Strands of ragged hair fell across her face and she smiled as she let her pistol hang loosely in her hand at her side.

“I told you, General,” Kate said.

Locke pointed towards his desk behind Kate and raised his eyebrows. “May I?” he asked.

Kate looked back and saw a box of cigars on his desk. She walked over to it and picked one up and ran it under her nose taking in the smell of tobacco. “My grandfather smoked these until the day he tied. Anytime I get a whiff of one of these I always think of him.” She tossed one to Locke.

Locke pulled the cigar clip out of his front pocket and chopped of the end. He flicked his lighter and roasted the end of the cigar as he puffed long, slow drags of the Cuban. His face became clouded in a gray of smoke.  He let the fire fill him for one last time and then put the cigar into the corner of his mouth and took a good look at what would be the last sights he’d see on this earth.

The barrel of Kate’s pistol hovered inches from Locke’s face as she placed her finger on the trigger. “I told you, old man. I told you that it was a mistake to put your trust in men,” she said through gritted teeth.

Locke took the cigar out of his mouth and the smoke from the tip wafted from his face down to his side as he ashed the cigar onto the carpet of his office floor. “The only mistake I made was not adding retinal scans to the cell doors,” Locke replied.

He walked closer to her so that his forehead was pressed hard against the barrel of the pistol. “You think your idea protects you from those that try and oppose you. The only thing that does protect you is the piece of steel and composite that you’re holding in your hand,” Locke said. “And we have better trained gunmen than you do.”

A slight smile twitched on Kate’s face. She squeezed the trigger and the bullet went right between the eyes and then out the back of Locke’s skull as bits of blood, bone, and brain matter sprayed across the office floor. The cigar rolled out of his hand once he hit the ground and Kate bent down to pick it up. It had bits of blood speckled on it as she rolled it between her fingers and then took a long drag and blew the smoke straight up into the air. “Let’s move,” she ordered and the group filed out of the door as Kate bent down and put out the cigar on what was left of Locke’s left cheek. “I never liked my grandfather,” she said as one of the other prisoners took Locke’s phone out of his pocket and took a picture of him lying on the ground.

When Samantha pulled up to the building she sat in her car for a moment after she turned the engine off, then unbuckled her seatbelt and headed for the door. The guard at the entrance let her in and the small office she walked into was poorly maintained. The carpet was musty and worn. The wallpaper was peeling off in places around the walls and dust was caked onto the file cabinets that lined the walls of the office.

Derrick and his brother Chase looked incredibly out of place with their fine suits and clean-cut appearance. Chase flashed Samantha a large smile as he walked up to her with his hand extended. “Mrs. Kearny, it is a pleasure to meet you,” he said as his hand lingered in front of her.

Samantha looked down at Chase’s hand and then her eyes followed the line from his arm to his shoulder to his neck to the whites of his eyes. His smile didn’t waiver as Samantha stared him down.

Her hand finally went into his and he clasped both of his hands over hers as his face faded into a sad, condoling expression. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Chase said gently.

Samantha’s voice cracked from the dryness in her throat as she said, “Thank you.”