The Resolution (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Rats and the Cheese

As Ed stepped into the dark and musty room of the old, abandoned house, he glanced around to see several men looking at him with uncertainty. He counted five total, including Henry, trying to gather as much information on his situation as he could in his typical analytical style. Each of the men were armed with various weapons, ranging from an A2-style AR-15, a bolt-action Ruger M77, an Israeli Galil, a lever-action Henry Big Boy, and of course, Henry with his shotgun.

“This is Ed,” Henry said breaking the silence. “He’s the fugative from Camp Twenty-one I was telling you about.”

“I thought you said there were two?” said one of the men, who appeared to Ed to be in his mid-fifties and seemed to be a fairly gruff and sturdy fellow.

“There are two; the other is still banged up. He’s back with Meredith right now.”

“You trust someone you just met to be alone with your wife?” another man asked, as if he was chastising Henry for the decision.

“Damn straight!” Henry responded firmly. “And that should be all you need to know to trust these guys like I do.”

A few of the men looked at each other as if they were looking for some sort of unspoken agreement to accept what Henry was saying. After a moment of silence, one of the men reached out his hand to Ed and said, “Any friend of Henry’s is a friend of mine. My name is Gary Sobolewski. Nice to meet you, Ed.”

“Nice to meet you, too, sir... and thanks,” Ed responded with a firm handshake and a smile.

Now that the ice had been broken, the other men each introduced themselves to Ed as the tension left the room. “So where are you headed?” asked Gary.

“My friend Nate and I need to make our way back to East Tennessee. We were on our way with some other friends of ours to Hot Springs, North Carolina, in an attempt to do some trade and barter at the swap meet we heard they had there. A UN helicopter and several Humvees with Russian soldiers apprehended us and split us up from the others. We aren’t sure what happened to the other two guys who were with us. They took us to Camp Twenty-one and tried to get any info they could out of us about the militia groups in the area.”

“Were they successful?” asked one of the men who had introduced himself as Paul Welch.

“No, sir. Not at all. Which is why they were less than friendly with us.”

“Regardless of whether you spilled the beans or not, they would have ultimately been unfriendly with you. They kiss your ass to get you to talk, then after you do and are expecting to win their favor, in the tin shack you go.”

“How do you know so much about Camp Twenty-one?” Ed asked.

“Because my treasonous brother-in-law became a ‘blue belly.’ I believe that’s how you guys referred to them. That son of a bitch never was much of a man in my eyes. It killed me when my sister married him. He just wasn’t a fit for the family. He likes to brag about the authority he wields there. I just let him run his mouth and make mental notes of it all.”

“Was he... was he there during the rescue? Not a lot of those guys made it out, from what I saw,” Ed said hesitantly.

“Nope, as usual I couldn’t be that lucky. He was off that day. They’ve got him on some kind of cleanup detail out there now. He hates it. He thinks that’s a job for his prisoners. Serves that turncoat right. Actually, he deserves a hell of a lot worse than that. They all do,” Paul said with contempt as he spat on the floor. “Just talking about him puts a bad taste in my mouth. If the militias don’t get him someday, I have a feeling I’m gonna end up killing him myself.”

“Back to business,” Henry said, interrupting Paul’s tirade. “This group of grumpy, socially maladjusted old men are sort of the neighborhood watch around here. We take care of things that need to be taken care of, and tonight is one of those nights. We thought you might be interested in a little payback.”

Ed smiled and said, “What did you gentlemen have in mind?”

“Ever since your bus incident, the UN has stepped up its patrols of the area. We assume they are looking for the few that got away. We would like to put a little dent in their operation. They’ve come through every day and every night, at varying times, and on varying routes, consistently patrolling the area, but especially on a nightly basis. If you’re willing to be the cheese, we can catch the rats.”

“Cheese, huh?” Ed said inquisitively.

“Yep, a big ol’ slice of American cheese,” Henry said, pulling Ed’s old orange jumpsuit out of the bag he carried over his shoulder.

At first, Ed was taken back by the suggestion and had mixed feelings about being used as bait. After a few moments of thought, he looked at Henry and said, “Sure thing. Anything for the man who's kept me and Nate alive, and anything to get back at those bastards.”

“Outstanding,” Henry said with a smile. “Now, go ahead and change into the jumpsuit. You can keep your shoes on though. I suppose it’s plausible that during this time you’ve managed to scavenge a pair of shoes. I’ll explain more once we get to the rat trap.”

Taking the jumpsuit from Henry, Ed looked at him and said, “Just don’t let the rat eat the cheese, if you can help it.”

“We’ll do what we can,” Henry said with a crooked smile.

~~~~

Reaching Henry’s pre-planned location for their ruse, he, Ed, and the others slipped into one of the abandoned houses just across the street from where they wanted to position Ed. As Henry led them through the house, clearing it as they went from room to room, he looked at Ed and said, “Just because it was empty last time we were here, doesn’t mean it is now.”

Ed nodded in agreement and looked around the room, taking it all in. The house had clearly been empty for quite some time and had been stripped bare of anything of use. Even the wiring looked as if it had been torn from the walls.

As they crept into the living room and Henry signaled that the room was clear, he knelt down by the window to avoid exposing himself to anyone outside. Although it was well into the night, the bright moon provided ample illumination that could be both a benefit and liability.

Motioning for Ed to kneel down beside him, he said, “They have a common entry point into the neighborhood before they start randomly patrolling the streets. They come in from that direction,” he said, pointing down the street to their right. “Once they enter the neighborhood, they tend to take random routes through the surrounding streets. With that in mind, and as long as they follow that general pattern, if you hide out between those two houses across the street there…” he said, pointing directly across the street.

“You mean in between the brick house and the one with wood siding?” Ed asked to clarify.

“Yep, exactly,” Henry confirmed. “You hide over there and when you see them coming, dart across the street as if you are busted, and run back toward us. Paul and I will be in here, and Gary and Joe will be in the blue house next door. Once you run between the houses, we’ll take them out as they attempt a pursuit.”

“Seems fairly straight forward,” Ed said.

“You don’t really have anywhere to keep that pistol in that orange jumpsuit, do you?” asked Henry, looking Ed over, reconsidering the sidearm for their ruse. “Those bastards will shoot you on sight if they see that you’re armed. We want them to chase you.”

Ed considered Henry’s concern for a moment and said, “Maybe in here,” as he unzipped his jumpsuit down to his waist. He placed the holster securely around his waist against his bare skin and zipped the suit back up to his neck. “There, it will be a pain to get to, but it will be there if I need it,” he said.

“That’ll do,” Henry replied. “Okay, Gary, you and Joe head on over to your stations, and Ed, scoot on across the street. Once in position, everyone lie low until the fun begins.”

“Roger that,” replied Gary. He patted Joe on the back, and the two men headed out the back door.

“Stay safe,” Henry said to Ed as he turned to leave as well.

“You, too, sir.”

“Stop calling me “sir,” damn it. I was enlisted. I worked for a living,” Henry said in a grumpy and commanding voice.

Ed just smiled in reply, seeing Henry’s days of hard-fought battles in the lines on his face and the crackle of his voice.

~~~~

Several hours passed and the men hadn’t seen anything other than a feral stray cat and a squirrel. Ed’s eyelids grew heavy from the late hours, as well as the boredom of sitting in an overgrown bush growing against the front of the abandoned house. The only thing that kept him awake was the occasional need to swat an ant or some other pest off of himself, as he had become a fixture in their small world.

Nearly dozing off, Ed was startled awake by the sound of an approaching diesel engine. His heart raced as he feared what would become of him if things didn’t go as planned. An escaped prisoner probably wouldn’t fare well with the Russian soldiers, who were probably looking for revenge.

He watched as the vehicle approached. At first, he couldn’t make out the type of vehicle due to its blinding headlights, but once it neared, he confirmed that it was indeed a UN-marked Humvee. As it reached what he felt was the right point in the road to get their attention, while giving himself adequate time to make it across the street without being caught, Ed took a deep breath and sprinted out of the bush as fast as he could for the gap between the houses.

Unfortunately for Ed, he did not hear the commands to stop that he expected. Instead, he was startled by impacts on the pavement directly in front of him, from the rapid-fire shots of the turret-mounted machine gun on the Humvee as the soldiers opened fire.

Crap!
Ed thought as he reversed course, running back toward the house from which he came. As the gun trained on him with bullets impacting the ground behind him as he ran, Ed made it between the houses just before the rounds merged with his path, narrowly avoiding being killed. Hearing the Humvee slam on its brakes and soldiers dismount behind him, Ed ran as hard as he could, never looking back. Jumping over a four-foot-tall wooden fence in the backyard, he heard small arms fire behind him, along with the sounds of high-velocity 5.45x39mm rounds whizzing by his head.

Taking a sharp left turn, Ed jumped across another fence, tripping, and falling on a child’s backyard toys upon landing. The soldiers gained ground on him as he struggled to regain his forward momentum. Ed heard other small-arms fire behind him and looked back to see several of the soldiers turning to return fire behind them.
Must be the guys,
he thought as he resumed his sprint through the backyard, jumping yet another fence.

As Ed made a sharp turn to the right, running in between two other houses, he heard the pursuing soldier’s footsteps gaining on him from behind as the soldier began shouting at him in Russian. Ed wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, but he knew the soldier was not simply trying to get him to stop running. He was out for vengeance and sought to get it tonight at Ed’s expense.

Unable to outrun the soldier, Ed reached for his zipper, hoping to be able to get to his revolver as he felt the hands of the soldier grab him from behind, tackling him to the ground. Sliding to a stop on his face in the tall uncut grass of the mostly abandoned neighborhood, Ed felt the soldier take him by the hair and begin to slam his face repeatedly into the ground.

Unable to get his hand into his jumpsuit to retrieve his weapon due to the overwhelming weight of the soldier who was now sitting on his back, Ed felt he had only moments to survive. Thoughts of Nate and his potential struggle home to Tennessee, alone, with no prosthetic or even a suitable crutch flashed through his mind as he felt his face become soaked with blood from both his nose and mouth as the soldier relentlessly pounded him into the ground.

The soldier then placed his hand on Ed’s shoulder, rolling him violently over onto his back. Ed could see the rage in the man’s eyes as he pulled his knife from the sheath on his belt, placing his free hand on Ed’s throat as he began to raise the blade high above his head.

Feeling himself losing consciousness from the tight grip the soldier had on his throat, Ed used his last ounce of energy to continue the fight. He reached into his jumpsuit, pulled the old Colt revolver from its holster, and while still inside his suit, he cocked the hammer and sent the 250-grain lead bullet crashing into the soldier's abdomen.

Feeling the soldier’s grip around his neck begin to loosen, Ed could see the look in the soldier’s eyes change from unrelenting rage to fear as he felt the man’s warm blood spill from his gut. As Ed watched the man’s life seemingly leave his eyes, the soldier fell onto his back, freeing Ed from his hold.

Ed immediately rolled away from the soldier, got on his knees and drew the Colt clear of his jumpsuit, aiming it at the man. He watched as he convulsed and shook violently, and then nothing. What one moment was uncontrollable rage and violence, had now become calm and silence.

Getting back to his feet, Ed turned his attention back to the direction from which his attackers came. He heard the sounds of footsteps rapidly moving toward him. He raised the old Colt and aimed it at the corner of the house, preparing to fire the remaining five shots at his pursuers as they rounded the corner.

As his target came into view, Ed immediately recognized Henry as he slid to a stop and shouted, “Whoa! Whoa, Ed. It’s just us. We took the others out from behind.” Looking over at the dead soldier, knife still in hand, Henry said, “The old Colt saved another life, I see.”