TOCABAGA (Revised Edition) (Book #1 of The Tocabaga Chronicles) (4 page)

April 17, 2025

Continued

Suddenly Big Jim made a movement with his right hand, reaching around to his back. In an instant I drew my Glock 9mm out from its Kydex holster… Bam! Bam! Bam! I shot Big Jim with a triple tap, which is one bullet in the head and two in the chest. Big Jim never knew what hit him.

A Glock is without a doubt the best hand gun ever made.  The barrels never wear out and they are very dependable.  It will fire under water, you can throw it in the mud or run it over with a truck, and it still works every time. It is light weight and has a 15 to 17 round magazine capacity, which means you can fire a lot of bullets. I like the luger 9mm round because it is the most common hand gun ammunition. It is used by the military and police departments all over the United States.   

At almost the same time, Robbie and I shot the other guy twice in the chest. They were dead; they both fell like a lead sinker, hitting the pavement with a thud.

The slaves fell to the ground begging us not to shoot them.

Ricked yelled, “What the hell are you guys doing shooting someone under a white flag?”

I yelled
back, “Rick, I had no time to tell you or Robbie, but these are the guys who shot the Deputy a year ago at the 7-11 store. I recognized the big dork from that night.”

A dork is defined as a whale penis; another meaning is a big prick.

I walked over to his body and found a gun behind his back tucked into the waistband. Just as I thought it was a Glock 9mm, which is standard police issue. I took my gold chain out of his dirty pocket, wiped it off, and slipped it back over my head.

I said,
“Look here is the gun that the dork took off the cop.”

Robbie
checked the other guy and found another Glock. Most gang members don’t carry an expensive Glock; they usually have a cheap old .38 special revolver, what we call a midnight special, a hot gun sold illegally. Later Deputy Matthews checked the serial numbers and they were police-issued; one belonged to Deputy Hardy, who was killed that terrible night a year ago.

I told
Robbie, “Good shooting, Bro, I knew you would start shooting when I did.”

Then I ordered,
“Mark feed these guys to the sharks and hurry up!” Mark, strong as an ox, picked them up and tossed them over the bridge railing into the shark-infested water.

Mark laughed while
saying, “You fucks are fish food; you don’t mess with Jack Gunn.”

As I was moving to a safe spot behind a ca
r I ordered, “Take cover and make your way back up the bridge before we get shot!”

Robbie
, Rick and I had the slaves in tow, pulling them along with us as well as we could. They were in shock. Eddy laying low, came up and took the slaves out of the range of fire back over the bridge. They would be safe and in good hands now.

Robbie, one of my best friends whom I have known more than 20 years, used to love to fight. I guess it was to prove his manhood. We used to have a fight club that would meet every month and we would practice the skills of self defense. We had six people in our club, one was a Navy Seal and another was a retired DEA agent. Back then Robbie did not own any guns for fear he would kill someone due to his quick temper. Many times I was with him and he would start a fight with someone for no reason at all. If a man looked at him wrong Robbie would just walk up and sucker-punch him.

Rick was still bitching about me shooting the dork, and I told him, “Look, there was nothing else I could do. He was wanted for killing a cop and they threatened to attack us. I figured if we shot the assholes then the rest of them wouldn’t mess with us.”

Rick is a good guy but he thinks too much and is slow to react
. He said, “You can’t shoot people in cold blood.”

I
answered back, “Look, I knew those guys had guns and they were making a move. We were going to fight them anyway, no matter how you look at it, so drop it. We also saved five people from hell.”

Robbie
told Rick, “Shut the fuck up Bro, it’s over, we’re alive and they’re fish food.”

Mark
exclaimed, “Yeah, fish food!”

Mark is a guy who does what he wants, when he wants. He does not like authority. Mark is single and yes Mark is a little crazy, so most people here stay away from him. Deep down however, Mark is a good guy who would do anything for me because I pay attention to him. I think he considers me a father figure since his own has passed away. One drawback is Mark likes to smoke pot.

A story from years ago is Mark
had just purchased a new truck and drove downtown to buy pot. Well, the police had a sting set up and started chasing him in his truck. Mark tried to get away but the police stopped him.

The Officer
asked him, “Why are you running from us?”

Mark replied,
“Because you’re chasing me.”

The police ask
ed him for his license and Mark said, “It’s on the back of the truck.”

Now who gives answers like that to the
police? They found the pot in his truck. He was arrested for the dope and was also charged with fleeing and eluding the police. He spent eight months in jail and they took his truck for running drugs. Now Mark rides a bicycle everywhere. Mark works as a handyman, so if you need something done, Mark will do it. All-in-all, Mark just wants someone to notice him. But never call him crazy to his face.

Rick had never killed anyone and always wanted to give the other
person the benefit of the doubt. I saw him get beat up pretty bad in a bar fight once because of that. My thinking is, shoot first and ask questions later. When in doubt, let God sort it out. This is the Wild West, where you shoot the other guy first or you die. Here there is no such thing as a fair fight.

I think the gang was in shock seeing their two big leaders blown away and thrown into the water like fish food because it took them about ten minutes to react. As we were taking cover, all of a sudden we heard a shot fired and we ducked behind a car. We didn’t see where it came from but our men were returning fire at the gang below. Fifty guns firing all in a space of a few minutes are loud as hell. I saw a couple of dirt bags fall as the dummies were standing out in the open shooting at us. It seemed they had no training at all. After three more scumbags fell, they ran behind their trucks and cars.

I guessed that
Tommy had shot at least three of these jerks. Now they were taking pot shots at us but their aim was so bad the bullets just whizzed overhead or hit the cars around us. The gang started to jump in their vehicles to make a getaway. Our fire power was overwhelming. They didn’t expect that.

I yelled
to our people, “Hold your fire, save your ammo!”

The gang
withdrew, driving down the road about a mile to the empty condos abandoned two years ago. My guess is more than a few were also wounded by our excellent shooters.

I told Mark,
“Go down there and dump the bodies in the water. Robbie, go with him and make sure they are all dead.”

Rick and I watched as
Robbie put a bullet in the head of each of the bodies. Rick and I looked at each other and started to laugh at what Robbie just did, but we were laughing in relief that we won this round with none of us hurt. Mark and Robbie carried back three AK47 rifles and a few mags.

J
ust north of us, about a mile away, there used to be a big condo and townhome community. Now it is empty, for the most part, and falling apart. Homeless people, gangs, criminals, terrorists, and other dangerous people have taken it over. They would like to take over our island and homes but we won’t let that happen. Some in small groups of five or six have already tried to come here over the bridge or gain access by boat. They all died trying so they don’t try any more.

After the battle
, most of us went down to the bar for a beer and a lot of people gathered around us and wanted to know what had happened. Everyone was worried but they were all happy we weren’t hurt. I hate having to tell a story over and over again, but Mark likes to tell stories so we all just let him tell it in his own way, which can be quite funny most of the time, but not always accurate.

The
slaves were checked out by Doc Scott at our clinic to see if they needed medical assistance. Doc said they just needed food and water. Several families who had no kids stepped up to the plate and volunteered to take them in, including the older woman. They are all in good hands now.

We could hear gunfire coming from
the condo area and guessed that the same gang that was just here was engaging with the criminals now living in the condos. With any luck they would kill each other off. It was dark now and we wondered what would happen next.

What will we do
tomorrow?

April 18, 2025

Last night nothing happened except we heard
continuous sporadic gunfire. We left ten people on guard at the bridge, figuring that would be enough until others could arrive. I don’t think anyone slept well, worrying about what would happen the next day. I dozed off a few times, getting about an hour of sleep. My whole family slept together that night. We took turns serving a two-hour guard duty just in case.

Ron,
Tommy, Robbie and I drove down to the bridge around 7 am after a great fried fish and orange juice breakfast. Rick was there, it seems he spent the night on guard duty.

I
asked Rick, “Anything new?”

Rick re
plied, “Nothing, you can only hear gunfire every now and then. Jack, I am sorry about yesterday; you were right and I will back you up that they were making a move for their guns.”

I
stated, “I don’t think anyone is going to put me in jail for killing two bad guys, so forget about it.” I think Rick chose to pull guard duty all night because he was sorry for chewing us out over killing the two dorks.

I suggested, “Rick
, let’s have a meeting to decide what we’ll do next. We can’t let a force of thirty armed people control our one and only way out of here for very long.”

Rick
asked, “Who do you think should attend the meeting?”

Eddy
, who was standing there with us, said, “How about the head of each security team, the Board, and anyone else who wants to attend.”

Rick said, “
That’s what I was thinking, please pass the word to meet in two hours.”

Eddy has three main jobs, brewing beer and wine, growing pot, and pulling security duty. Ed used to be a full-time brewer of beer in the big city. Everyone likes Ed’s beer so he is a popular guy. Ed likes pot more than anyone and once he starts smoking he becomes very weird. I don’t know who is crazier, Eddy or Mark. Anyway, Mark and Ed have the pot under control and get along just fine. Ed won’t tell anyone how he makes beer, keeping it a secret for some reason, maybe to make himself more popular or to feel needed. Ed is married and his wife does a lot of the farming in our community garden.

We have
six security teams made up of 16 people each for a total of 96 people who can shoot. Each team has a team leader, meaning six people in the meeting plus the five Board of Directors which is made up of Rick as President, me as Vice President and Director of Security, Steve as Treasurer, Robbie as Member at Large and Bill as Secretary. The Security Team Leaders are Police Bob, Army Mike, Navy Ron, Marine Tommy, Deputy Matthews, and Big Steve, using the nicknames that everyone calls them. Rick would put up a notice at the town hall that anyone could attend the meeting but the final decisions would be made by the Board.

At the meeting, we decided to do a recon of the area to see just what this gang was up to and exactly where they were located in case we needed to attack them. The recon would be conducted by Tommy and me. If my son was going then I was going with him. Tonight would be perfect for this surveillance because there was no moon and the darkness would provide us excellent cover. Tommy was a Marine Scout Sniper and an expert at doing recon so I relied on him as we got ready, suited up, checked our weapons, gear, put on our camouflage paint, bulletproof vests and then duck-taped anything down that made noise.

We had about a mile
to go to reach our destination with fairly good cover. The bad guys could be waiting along the way or lying in the brush watching us. Either way it would be dangerous. We drew a map and made a plan with set meeting points in case we became separated from each other.

Once we crossed the bridge and
were beyond the car roadblock, we had to cross an open space of about 300 feet. The plan was that Tommy would take the west side of the road and I would take the east side of the road. That way if one of us was spotted we could set up a crossfire and cover each other. A line of trees and heavy mangroves on each side of the road would provide cover most of the way to the first buildings.

We
crossed the bridge at 3 am, as the best time to sneak around is 2 to 4 am. That is when most people are in deep sleep. I was moving down the east side and Tommy down the west side of the road on the edge of the shrubs and mangrove trees. I could hardly see Tommy in the moonless night. He was about 100 feet across the road from me. We each had a radio to stay in touch. Clicking the transmit button three times meant stop and five times meant go. With this signal, the radio would hiss a static soft clicking noise. No talking unless it was necessary.

As we got within
400 yards of the first building I saw a person sitting on the edge of the road in a chair. I clicked three times to Tommy and he stopped. Using my night vision I saw this guy was asleep or had his eyes closed. I clicked five times to go. While Tommy proceeded I aimed my AR15 9mm at the guard’s head. After Tommy was clear, he would cover me.

I had to pass within twenty feet of this guard. I held my breath and watched where I was walking so
as not to make any noise, creeping along step-by-step until I was about one hundred feet past him. It was time for Tommy to cross the road over to my side, since the view was better on the east side of the street. Tommy slowly crawled on his belly across the road taking about 15 minutes, while I covered him. So far, so good, we had not been spotted.

I whisper
ed to Tommy, “I think these guys are in one of the big four-story buildings and may have a shooter on the top floor. It’s probably the one near the road.”

This complex ha
d about ten big buildings with two near the road, one on the east side and one on the west, so maybe they were in both buildings. As we sneaked around the buildings, keeping near the plants for cover, we spotted their cars at the one building on the east side of the road.

Tommy
said quietly, “I want to go inside.”

I replied, “
Negative, too dangerous. Let’s go back, we’ve got enough information.”

Tommy nodded
and we started back.

As we approached the guard
sleeping in the road, he suddenly woke up when an owl screamed in the night. He stood up and I froze about 30 feet away from him. Tommy was on the other side of the road out of sight. I clicked three times on the radio. The guy looked around dazed and then he saw me on the edge of the mangroves and jumped to reach for his AK47. I popped him with my AR 9mm carbine three times, which of course made three loud bangs. He was no doubt dead, as I never miss with my AR15 9mm. It shoots like a BB gun with very little recoil.

We both started to run for the bridge
, keeping close to the overgrowth. Tommy would run ahead about 50 feet since he was faster than me and then stop and look back, aiming his rifle to provide cover fire.

We were about halfway back and Tommy
shouted, “Dad, keep running to the bridge, I will cover you. They’re coming in a car.”

I was so out of breath I could
n’t speak or reply to him, but my brain was working overtime. I turned to see one car coming. That meant possibly three or four men.

I stopped
, trying to regain my breath and replied, “Don’t shoot, hide until they pass you. I am running in the middle of the road so they can see me.”

“Ok, Dad,” yelled Tommy.

I thought I could run faster on the road than in the dirt. I can make it. My hope was if they saw me in the road then they would drive right past Tommy, who was hidden in the mangroves, come after me and then we’d have them in a trap.

I
knew Ron and Robbie would be there with more men and we would kill them if they came within range. I was huffing and puffing, running at full speed, slower than a turtle it seemed, with 40 pounds of gear on me.

I was tired and ready to fall
. I stumbled as I got to the first cars in the roadblock. Robbie and Ron were there to meet me. I stumbled falling to my knees; Ron raced out and grabbed me, half-dragging me back up the bridge behind a car. I laid there and puked, trying to gain control of my breath. I thought, man, I have to quit smoking.

I run three miles four times a week but running with all that gear on, a bulletproof vest, 100 rounds of ammo
, rifle, pistol, water and heavy boots was difficult. I am too old for this shit.

The car got closer and gunfire was
flashing from the windows. Ron, Robbie and about ten others started shooting, firing everything they had, and the car came to a screeching halt about 200 feet from us. Gunfire stopped coming from the car. One dope jumped out of the car and started to run back down the road, trying to get away. I don’t know how our bullets missed him as he ran out of effective range.

I got on the radio
and called Tommy saying, “Bad guy coming toward you, take him out.”

A few minutes later we heard one shot, which means one kill if Tommy fired it.

The radio hissed, “Got him, Dad. On my way back. Did you guys kill the rest of them?”

“I think so but check the car
on your way back.”

A few moments later, Tommy was
jogging down the road and he stopped at the car, pulled out his Glock 9mm, and started shooting into it. He pulled the bodies out of the car and dragged them to the edge of the water. Hopefully the high tide would wash them out to sea.

Driving the car
full of bullet holes over to us, Tommy said, “Some of those assholes were still alive but not now. I got us some more guns and ammo; here are three AK47 rifles and ten mags of ammo.”

“
Good job,” I said, and I thanked God we made it back.

“
What do we do now? They’ve still got us blocked in,” Rick asked.

Tommy replied,
“I have an idea; we have killed another five dope heads, cutting their numbers down to less than 30 men. I suggest we snipe them to kill more and after they lose another 10 or 15 guys, they may give up and leave. We don’t need to go after them and breach the buildings. I can kill them at 700 yards away. That way we stay safe.”

I
replied, “I don’t mind fighting in the open but going into their secured buildings is another matter.”

We
needed hand grenades and the Rangers gave us a boxful but breaching a building is risky and an easy way to get killed. I didn’t want any of us to get hurt, let alone killed. The idea was to take out the bad guys and not end up dead in the process. We’re not trained for breaching buildings. Tommy’s idea was a good one and everyone agreed with it.

I asked Rick, “Can Tommy use your Cobb 50 to shoot right
through the buildings?”

Rick
said, “Yes, but I don’t want to use all the ammo. I’ve only have 200 rounds.”

A 50 caliber armor
-piercing round will go through a car engine so blowing through a concrete wall is not a problem.

Tommy
, the expert in this said, “Here is the plan; the shooting platform will be the back of my pickup truck. This way we can get the hell out of there quickly if needed. I will take the Cobb 50 and my sniper rifle for easy window shots. Just give me ten rounds of 50 cal. I would like two people for added protection armed with ARs; they can watch for men who may try to sneak up on us. I need another person for a spotter to scan windows and ground areas for targets to hit. If we do this once or twice a day we can kill ten more of those jerks. This will demoralize them and they will give up and leave. I want Robbie, Eddy and Amy for a spotter.”

We all agreed and
Tommy made ready his Toyota four-door, four-wheel drive Tundra pickup. Tommy thought it important to hit them right away as they might not be expecting it and would be looking for the four men we just killed. Robbie and Eddy would go with him for security and my daughter Amy would be his spotter.

Amy
knows how to shoot and spot. She is an excellent shot and can handle any gun better than most men. Tommy and Amy are close and they think alike so she was the perfect choice but I didn’t like putting her in danger. She is my little girl even if she is thirty-five years old.

I was wishing someone else had the balls to go, as I was just too ti
red. Another reason I didn’t want her to go was that she was a nurse, an RN, and she was valuable to the whole group.

They started loading up the guns, ammo, gear and water
, when all of a sudden, we heard a lot of rapid gunfire coming from the other end of the island called, “NO MAN’S LAND.”

The radio
crackled, “We are under attack, send help ASAP!” called Army Mike, who was on duty with three other men at the edge of NO MAN’S LAND.