The sun finally slipped below the horizon, covering Saxon and his group in a blanket of darkness. Having seen the return of both the first and second convoy from the eastern outpost, and noted several vehicles had stayed behind, Saxon felt it was time to begin maneuvering out of the area and back across the river.

While he always enjoyed the more action oriented missions more, they had gathered solid information regarding the movements of the convoys supporting the eastern outpost. Number of vehicles, times, routes, even how many vehicles didn't return. The Captain had decided that outpost would pose to great a risk to their operations and at some point would need to be destroyed. The information Saxon and his team gathered would aid in that effort.

Saxon's base of operations was actually just across the river on the Kentucky side. This provided them a relatively safe position from which to plan and execute their missions, but did require traversing the occasionally treacherous Ohio River, and then maneuvering to their final destination.

Currently Saxon and his men were only about fifteen miles from the river, but they'd have to move at a steady pace to have a chance of crossing before sunrise. Otherwise, they'd have to spend another day on the Ohio side before attempting the crossing. Besides the obvious dangers of crossing a river in broad daylight, the Captain was didn't want his opposition to know that his teams were moving freely through their backyard.

So shortly after full darkness had settled in, both teams started backing out of their observation posts and began the phase of the mission least popular to most fighting men: walking.

****


John Miller had met Dink Roberts and Webb shortly after he moved to Mississippi in search of a quieter, more peaceful life for his family. His life since the move could not be described as anything of the sort.

When the problems in the North erupted, a Senator used the opportunity to seize power of a group of states and formed what most referred to as The Southern District. Attempting to create his own empire, the Senator inflicted his tyranny in millions of people and in the ensuing chaos, Miller's family was forced to flee the area. He and some friends then began fighting back against the various goons attempting to exert the Senator's will.

At various times Dink and Webb both returned from the safety of the Wyoming ranch to assist Miller's efforts. What neither of them knew, despite the strong friendship that had developed between them, was that Miller had experience in fighting back against tyrannical governments.

While in his first hitch in the Marines, Miller had caught the eye of the leader of a shadowy government organization. The man, a swashbuckling character of immense physical build, was universally referred to simply as “Papa” by the men who inevitably came to revere him. With graying hair and beard he bore an uncanny appearance to the television pitchman for a particular brand of Mexican beer, only taller and larger in stature.

Some say he cut his teeth helping the Mujahedin fight the Soviets in Afghanistan, others told tales of him running spy rings in eastern Europe during the late 1970's. There were some whispers of him being on the ground in Central America during the Reagan administration while commonly accepted opinion was that he actually held rank in Manuel Noriega's army.

Fact was, the only thing known about Papa was that he ran a group of clandestine shadow warriors so secret that their existence was known to only a handful in the upper circles of power in the Federal Government. What was also known was they had been so successful that funding, despite whatever the current economic situation of the country, was never in question.

Soon after catching Papa's eye, Corporal Miller found himself undergoing an unorthodox apprenticeship program that transformed him from common rifleman in the US Marines to a solider more comfortable working behind the scenes and in non-traditional ways on behalf of his country's political goals. Unlike most of his contemporaries who went to the Middle-East, most of Miller's time was spent in Eastern Europe, split between more James Bond like spying in several of the sprawling metropolitan cities and straight field work in the rural areas. While there, he'd work with local groups of insurgents or rebels, not unlike a CIA field officer.

He had loved his time working for Papa, but after finding wife and starting a family, he felt a more traditional means of employment was in order. Miller had been one of the few members of Papa's organization to retire and leave the life. Most agents either worked until their age prevented field work, at which point they often transitioned into support

But his life working for Papa had never been far from his mind.

****

“Have another beer Miller,” teased Dink. “I think all this snow is warping your common sense.” The snow had continued to fall at a rapid pace and the tracks Miller's truck left in the snow had already started to disappear.

Smiling, Miller replied, “Dink, you're the duck out of water here. A good old boy like yourself being stuck in a Wyoming snow-storm for two years?” He paused to take a long pull on his beer, “Mercy. I'm surprised you hadn't cracked yet.”

Webb interjected, “Don't think that he hasn't.”

Miller, digging into a slice of pizza of his own, continued, “look, it was probably nothing but something wasn't right. A big black SUV from out of town, clearly full of men and suddenly just happens to be traveling the same route as little old me? Come on.”

“Who the hell would want to follow you up to this boring place and deal with the snowpocalypse?” Attempting to coax an errant piece of cheese from a slice of pizza into his mouth, Dink continued, “Now Miller, I'm not saying you were imagining things but your wife has been away for two weeks and that tends to make a man a little...well...antsy.”

Webb nearly choked on his beer while Miller teasingly taunted, “well that ought to make you BSC then”.

With a mouth full of pizza Dink looked at him quizzically. Miller smiled and replied, “Bat Shit Crazy.”

****

Their card game continued well into the night. Like most card games among male friends it was replete with taunting, jibs and copious swearing. There was some story telling and boasting but mostly it was three friends enjoying each others company during a rare time uninterrupted by the responsibilities of life.

As the cigars were lit and the cards transitioned into a casual game of pool in the game-room, the pace of the evening started to wind down.

“Miller,” said Dink, seemingly unaffected by the copious quantity of beer he had consumed, “you may have been all super-spy at one point in your life, but you flat stink at billiards.”

Miller was about to return the taunt when the evening was rudely interrupted by the crash of a metal object falling to the ground somewhere out in the compound surrounding the main house.

All three men froze as they processed the noise.

“That sounded like it came from the animal barn.” said Webb.

“I thought you moved the animals out of there?” asked Dink.

“I did,” responded Webb with a hushed whisper. “They are out in the pasture barn while the main one is being repainted and cleaned out.”

Dink, stating the obvious said, “So that probably wasn't a horse knocking a bucket over in his stall.”

Glancing at each other they suddenly realized one thing: Miller had been right. The truck following him had been full of professionals who had decided to come back to finish their job.