Beginnings

[The Stig]

As the lead Humvee pulled into the main town square and squeaked to a stop, Captain Mike DeMetrie hopped out and stretched. It had been a long overnight drive from the marshaling area on the coast. The convoy of Humvee's and open topped six wheeled trucks full of troops slowly ground to a halt. The townspeople that were out in the early morning stood in shock at the sight of armed troops hopping out of vehicles and starting to martial up.

"Sargent!" he called out. As the lean Sargent appeared he issued out several orders covering a number of topics. His first mission was to find the local Sheriff to update him and coordinate their activities. DeMetrie's group of a hundred and fifty or so men would be enforcing the curfew in both this town and the others throughout the county. DeMetrie had spent the night studying maps of the country and decided to marshal most of his forces in town since it was near the center of the county and then distribute forces as needed through the other smaller areas. Roving patrols would also be set up.

DeMetrie had joined the service out of high school because most the men in his family had done the same. He had served well in various places in the Middle East and had seen combat along the way. He was well liked by his troops and had been very effective in leading them. The decision to join the National Guard after rotating out of the regular army was easy because he genuinely liked serving his country. Besides, what was he going to do, sell insurance?

He really wasn't sure why they were doing on this mission. He had received his orders as the tensions built in the past few months and was mobilized shortly after the outbreak of the problems up North. All he knew was that he had to enforce a temporary marshal law in the county for the peoples safety. Something didn't really add up about the orders but he was a solider. He wasn't used to questioning orders.

****

Ketch and DeMetrie rubbed each other the wrong way from the get go. Ketch didn't like the intrusion into his turf and DeMetrie didn't like Ketch's arrogance. But they quickly worked through the details of how the operation would be run. DeMetrie was amused when Ketch tried to give him direction on how to arrange patrols. He made it clear he fully intended on doing things his way by utterly ignoring the advice.

"Captain" Ketch barked out, "you can set your men up in the high school as a base of operations.". He dispatched one of his deputies who left with one of DeMetrie's men to get into the school building and start setting up operations.

"Sheriff, how many contractors are working in the area?" DeMetrie asked. He despised the contractors he had met so far this past week. He knew plenty of good honest men who had taken up high paying jobs as contractors post military service. There were a lot of good ones out there, some of who had served by DeMetrie's side in the sandbox of Iraq. But lately he'd run into far more scum than honest men.

"Well Captain, as you know, our friends in the capitol have sent out quite a few to help augment local law enforcement" Ketch replied obviously not answering the question.

"So how many?" came the straight forward reply.

Ketch was fuming to be addressed in such a way by someone like this but he bit his tongue. "Right now there are about twenty working across the county. Most of them are attached to units with my men."

"Right, well then. Be sure they understand we are in the area, and will be operating with live weapons. I'm sure they won't mistake men in ACU's and helmets as curfew breakers but you need to remind them just in case" the Captain said with obvious disdain.

Ketch merely grunted in response.

As Captain DeMetrie spun and begin to walk out of the Sheriff's office Ketch threw out one last bit of information. "Captain, we are also in the middle of a manhunt for some fugitives wanted for murder"

DeMetrie didn't even turn back around, "get pictures to my Sargent's and they will distribute them. If we see anyone matching the description we'll pass along the information". With that he rounded the corner and left Ketch to glare at his coffee mug.

****

The men took several hours to cover the ground between their overnight campsite and town. They held up in some woods a mile outside of town and took up a protected position just at the top of a small wooded rise.

Webb volunteered to take the first watch so Miller and Dink padded down under some thick bushes and a felled tree. In the event of trouble they kept their AR15’s at the ready, loaded and ready for business.

As they drifted off Dink asked aloud to nobody in particular, “Did I get drunk, pass out and wake up in crazy town?”

****

Smythe strode into Sheriff Ketch’s office in the late afternoon. Ketch was having a particularly bad day as the phone was ringing off the hook and people kept stopping by trying to get more information about the martial law proclamation. He had been able to keep people calm by playing up how it was temporary and that Senator Donovan had to enact it all over the state to be fair to everyone. For whatever reason the mention of “fairness” seemed to make most people happy.

Still it was tiresome and didn’t address the real problems he was facing. The Miller situation was lingering and so far the day’s search had turned up nothing. More ominously nobody had called with information, which Ketch was counting on happening.

The other issue bothering him was word from Lumberton that some of the good-ole-boys in the area weren’t too happy about the martial law proclamation. Worse yet they were quick to say so. Ketch knew Donovan’s actions wouldn’t sit well with most folks and now he was going to have to clean up the mess. Worse yet, he’d have to work with Captain DeMetrie and that didn’t thrill him at all. For now he’d let DeMetrie worry about the martial law and mad redneck situation in Lumberton.

He considered walking over to the Diner for something to eat, and to get out of his office, when Smythe came around the corner. “Shit” Ketch thought to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was play mental sparing games with Smythe.

[The Stig]

Ketch laid out the situation in the county, updated Smythe on the obvious arrival of the National Guard troops and gave him a status on the contractors working in the area. They conferred over some organizational and operational details before Smythe brought up the subject Ketch was clearly avoiding.

“Sheriff” said the overtly polite Smythe “what is going on with this Miller situation and my five missing men”. The emphasis on “my” was pronounced.

Ketch glared at Smythe. Sheriff Ketch’s glares didn’t seem to have much effect with the likes of Smythe and Captain DeMetrie and he didn’t like it.

“Well Mr Smythe” he responded back with poorly hidden irritation “I’ve issued orders that they be brought in on charges related to the missing men. I’ve had a couple reserve deputies spreading the word around town while most of my men and your contractors have been conducting sweeps of the outlying areas”.

Smythe remained quiet for an uncomfortable period of time. Ketch suddenly felt like he had been called in front of the principal. “Have you sent men back to their homes and last known positions?”

“Well Mr. Smythe, no I hadn’t” replied the Sheriff. “The men I sent over last night after your men originally went missing did a quick sweep and then returned back here.” Again Smythe let the silence hang in the air and again Sheriff Ketch didn’t care for it.

“In that case Sheriff” Smythe continued the questioning, “did you seal off the airstrips in the area after finding the hole in the fence and clear evidence of tire tracks?”

Smythe didn’t need to wait long when Ketch’s reply was a blank stare.

“Sheriff Ketch, I do believe I will be staying with you for a while” pronounced the leader of the contractors. Inside Sheriff Ketch boiled with rage.


****

So far Captain DeMetrie’s job had gone smoothly. His troops quickly set up a command center in the High School and troops were distributed through out the county. Most of them stayed in town while another large group were sent over Lumberton. Small groups were then sent to the smaller towns and villages across the county. The troops in town were arranged into roving patrols and shifts were created to ensure good coverage.

DeMetrie sipped a cup of coffee as he stared across the open park area at City Hall. He wondered what problems Sheriff Ketch was going to cause for him.

A corporal from the communications section interrupted him.

“Sir, Baker-2 group reports they have arrived in Lumberton and set up operations. They got some taunting from some locals but overall they are good to go”

“Excellent. Tell them to set up patrols and be careful with the locals. Also, send word to Baker-3 that I’m going to rotate them and Baker-4 around a fair amount between those 5 small bergs they need to cover so don’t get too comfy” replied back the Captain.

He didn’t hear the corporal respond with a crisp “sir” before he turned and scurried off to send the messages.

“Sergeant Lowry!” he called out. The same lean Sergeant who had appeared when they first pulled into town suddenly appeared again. Despite overseeing several things at once and having a to-do list a mile long Sergeant Lowry always seemed to be around when his captain needed him.

“Listen Lowry, I don’t know what this Sheriff Ketch is up to. Keep an eye on him. If you pick up any scuttlebutt I want to know about it” instructed the captain.

“You want me to spend a little extra time at City Hall to make sure I get all the details right on tonight’s patrol rotations?” replied the wiseass Sergeant that had been through thick and thin with Captain DeMetrie.

“I think that is an outstanding idea that shows initiative and a desire to get the job done” replied back the Captain who had genuine affection for his Sergeant.

[The Stig]

Smythe was furious. The first group of men sent back to Miller’s place found the dead contractors right off the bat. Further, two more men were found stuffed in a closet at the airport. One of his contacts in the FAA ran back the radar tapes and saw where a low flying plane had come out of the north west, dipped below radar coverage and then reappeared a short while later on the same return course.

While the airplane wasn’t shocking (there was a big hole in the fence and two dead guys at the airport) it clearly demonstrated that it was a small plane and that it was unlikely all of Miller’s group had left the area.

But mostly he was mad at the loss of his men. Not because he cared for his men or their families. But these men represented income potential and projection of power. He would be dammed if some local-yokle was going to cut into his bottom line.

Within minutes of hearing the news Smythe called in a helicopter with FLIR cameras for air support. It wouldn’t arrive until the morning but it would greatly increase their searching abilities.

Further he took over operations from Sheriff Ketch. The Sheriff protested meekly as Smythe rattled off orders and tried to stay in control of the situation but power had clearly passed to the head of the contractors.

In the short term before the helicopter arrived Smythe recalled all of his contractors from around the county along with all the Deputy Sheriffs. He began working with his second in command to organize a search that would begin at town hall and originate out. Ketch tried to interject that they didn’t know if Miller was even in town, Smythe shot him a dirty look that effectively shut up the obese Sheriff.

“Look Bobby” he said to his assistant “I want every inch of this town searched to ensure they aren’t here. Let’s at least establish that. We’ll start radiating out from town in the morning once the chopper arrives. I want every airstrip in the county shut down and take a look at the maps for any stretch of road that might be used to land a plane.”

Bobby nodded and turned to leave the room. “Oh and Bobby….have Miller’s house burnt to the ground and tell the teams they should shoot first and let me worry about the questions later. They owe me for five men and I expect to collect”.

After Bobby left Smythe turned to the Sheriff “Sheriff, you will man the communications center for now. Later on I expect you will be on one of the search teams. Bobby will let you know which one”

Whether Sheriff Ketch realized it or not, he had lost his entire command.

Shortly after Smythe stormed out of Ketch’s office, Sergeant Lowry returned back to the High School to fill in the Captain on what he overheard while reviewing information with a cute office worker at town hall.

****

Jason Klepper lived on the very outskirts of town in a small house he took over when his mother died. It was a small, rather non-descript home on one of the last streets in town. He had a couple of neighbors, mostly nosey older folks who never seemed to leave him alone.

Jason Klepper was a bit of a loner and never really fit in. He had made friends with John Miller years back and they had an ongoing, if rather casual relationship. They’d shoot together on occasion, and John would pass along leads for Jason’s small cleaning business.

The location of Klepper’s home suited Miller’s needs. His house backed up to the woods which provided excellent cover. Miller figured they could sneak up to the house, make contact with Klepper, have him work his magic on the radio and be on their way ricky-tick. He didn’t want to expose Jason to any more harm than he had to, especially from the contractors who clearly had no restraint.

As the three men snuck into the backyard of Klepper’s home they worked quickly and quietly to traverse the open back yard. The moon was fairly bright and they didn’t want to stay exposed any more than they had to.

“Dink” Miller whispered “you go over towards that small shed and keep an eye on things.”

Dink nodded and moved off. After a few steps, however, he accidentally knocked into a trashcan and the lid nosily fell to the ground. Everybody froze for a few seconds until it appeared nobody was going to respond.

One thing Miller knew from his relationship with Klepper was that he never locked his doors. He and Webb quickly entered the back door and went into the kitchen.

****

At city hall Smythe paced the floors of Sheriff Ketch’s office. The search had been underway for several hours. They had covered about 60% of the city in what proved to be a very time consuming search. He planned on having the city mostly secured by morning so when the helicopter arrived they could wrap things up and begin moving into the countryside.

He decided to go by the communications center to check on things and make sure Ketch was playing nice. Smythe had absorbed other LEO’s commands before and knew that the key was marginalizing the Sheriff as quickly as possible. Usually the deputies would fall in line and within six months most of them would be on his payroll. With the changes Donovan was hoping to enact every last man Smythe could employ would represent that much more money in billings.

“Status?” he asked as he entered the room.

Sheriff Ketch clearly didn’t like taking orders but at this point he really had no choice. Smythe wasn’t going to allow any contact with Senator Donovan and without his support a pissing match with Smythe would prove very costly. Ketch knew what those contractors were capable of and where people ended up who crossed their paths. For now, he’d have to bide his time.

“About 65% of the city has been searched. Thus far no signs of Miller and his men. Coordination with the military has gone smoothly. They are just running patrols to enforce the curfews while the men perform the door-to-door search for Miller. No real reports of anything out of the ordinary other than a slight disturbance out on K Street” reported Ketch.

“My men. You said the men, when they are my men” Smythe corrected. “Is this disturbance odd?”

“Well” responded Ketch who ignored the lecture, “on a normal night I’d say no. But with the curfew nobody is out roaming around which generates our normal complaint calls because of accidents, noise, drunkenness, kids doing dumb things or whatever. Normally, a single report of strange noises from the neighbors would be filed away but since there’s no other normal reports coming in this one sticks out”.

Smythe pondered for a moment. “What’s the closest search team?”

Ketch referred to some papers but Bobby beat him to the punch. “We have men about three streets over. Could be there right away, or in about 15 to 20 if they continue searching”.

Again Smythe pondered. “Alright, keep them searching. Don’t want to get all willy-nilly with the pattern. But tell them to complete their searches without delay and get over to K street as soon as they can.”

[The Stig]

“Miller you guys are in big trouble” Klepper protested as they headed into the basement and the radio room. “Sheriff Ketch says you are wanted for murder and there’s been teams of contractors and deputies going door to door for the past few hours. What the hell have you done?”

“Nothing to worry about Jason, just a simple misunderstanding. Look, just let us use your radio and we’ll get out of here before anybody is wiser. I don’t want you to get in trouble”, replied Miller as Klepper settled into his chair.

Klepper started to turn dials and flip switches but stopped to turn around. “Man, I don’t want any heat. I don’t know what’s going on with this martial law business or this Senator Donovan. Things have just gone all sorts of wacky”. Klepper was a good man but he spoke very quickly and sometimes his words all ran together.

“Martial law?” asked Miller.

“Yea man, Senator Donovan is in charge of a couple states that grouped together to deal with any blowback from up North. He laid down the martial law order this morning. Curfew tonight at dark. Army guys showed up in town earlier today. They’ve been walking around all day and then started roving patrols once it got dark and the curfew started. They have M4’s, Humvee’s and everything” Klepper spat out.

Webb and Miller just looked at each other as they took in the news.

Klepper didn’t stop. “I’m telling you its bad news. Anybody with firearms is supposed to report to the county seat the day after tomorrow for “safety checks”. That can’t be good. Todd at the gunstore told me that all the background check forms were pulled by Sheriff Ketch.”

Webb glanced at Miller, “If they pulled the 4473’s you know they aren’t checking for clean guns and magazine catches that work”.

Miller tried to get them all back on track. “Ok. Thanks for the news, man. You two get to work. I’ll be upstairs.

****

As Klepper and Webb worked their radios Captain DeMetrie was trying to figure out the game Smythe was playing. It was bad enough when he had to worry about Sheriff Ketch, but when he got word that Smythe was in the picture he knew trouble was brewing.

DeMetrie didn’t know Smythe at all, but he knew about bad groups of contractors and he didn’t care for them one bit. It was one thing to use your skill sets to help your country and make a buck after your service had ended. It was quite another to rape, pillage and murder under some sick protective shield.

As he poured over maps of the area and the disposition of his men the corporal from the communication section came in.

“Capt, we’ve picked up some sort of radio activity from town. It’s been all quiet most of the day but then we started getting this single sideband frequency. It’s close. Maybe two miles away”.

DeMetrie looked up from his maps. “Was their any sort of civilian prohibition on ham radio types of communications?”

“Don’t think so sir”.

“Ok”. DeMetrie thought for a second. “Ok. Try to narrow down the location and then have a patrol swing by the area. Unless there is a curfew violation don’t get involved in any disturbances. But keep an eye out for any suspicious activities and report back in.”

“Oh, especially any sort of suspicious contractor activity” he added for good measure.

“Ok Jenkins” he said to sergeant looking at the maps with him. “Let’s look over that Lumberton area again”.

****

“You get your message out?” asked Miller as Webb and Klepper came back up from the basement.

“Yep” replied Webb. “He’ll get it when he lands. Got him the grid and GPS coordinates you gave me along with the frequencies to use when he gets within range. Also told him when we’d be there and that we’d come back to the same area at one hour later each night for the next three nights if he got delayed and then gave the alternate site if he was delayed beyond that”.

Klepper couldn’t contain himself. “Ok guys. I’m glad to help you but you have to go now. I mean, sorry man. I know we’re buds and all but I don’t want any heat”.

“I understand. We’re gone and you never saw us” replied Miller.

“Oh, here” said Webb as he handed Klepper an envelope. “This is a gift from Dink Roberts”.

“Yea. Thanks. Ok. Bye guys” as he shooed them out the door.

After they had disappeared into the night he thought to look in the envelope. In it was two thousand dollars in cash.

It had been several minutes after they left so he couldn’t track them down. At least he had some compensation for his troubles.

As he started to walk back to the basement to shut down the radios there was a knock at the door.

[The Stig]

“Mr. Klepper” Deputy Johnson asked as he looked down at a clipboard.

“Sir, may we come in?”

“Red, what are you doing. We’ve bowled together before…” fired back a confused Jason Klepper. They weren’t the best of friends but they did know each other, certainly well enough to dispense with the formal ‘Mr. Klepper’.

Before Jason could say or do anything else two large contractors barged into his house.

“Hey!” yelled out the surprised Klepper.

One of the contractors pushed him down onto the couch while relieving him of the envelope full of cash.

“Well, what do we have here?” asked the contractor.

“Nothing man” stammered a confused and now scared Klepper. “It’s money my mom left me when she died. I got it out today to count it”.

“That’s lame shitstain” fired back the contractor. “You better come up with something better than that.”

The other contractor came up the stairs from the basement and back into the room. “What the hell were you doing on the radios? They are still on and warm. What the fuck were you doing?”

“Uh…I was trying to find out news about the situation in the…the..north” was all he could stammer out.

The first contractor slapped him. “You’re lying shitbreath. You better fess up our you’re going to be in big trouble”.

“Nuuthin. I swear”. Before he could finish his meek protest the contractors had picked him up off the couch and started hauling him out the door. “Let’s go have a talk with Mr. Smythe you shitface, then you can go to camp…..” Both contractors chuckled as they hauled a clearly terrified Jason Klepper off the front porch and down the street towards the truck parked a few houses down.

Sheriffs Deputy Johnson wanted to say something but was too scared to say anything. He just stood by and watched his friend get hauled down the street by two goons.

****

Miller, Dink and Webb didn’t stop moving until they were a good mile away from Kleppers house.

“Ok boys” said Miller as they took a breather. “Let’s haul ass back to the truck at the back of Fred Thompson’s lot, grab some gear and then get trucking over towards Lumberton. If we hump it hard all night I think we can cover a lot of ground”.

“I always loved night hikes”, said Dink sarcastically.

“Ok, I’m just going to keep moving unless someone needs a break. Otherwise, stay quiet, stay moving and do it triple time”.

With that Miller spun and took off into the darkness.

****

DeMetrie didn’t know what to think when the radio call came in that some of his men had caught some contractors hauling a civilian down the street. While technically that was a civilian matter the poor guy was hysterical and showed signs of having been assaulted.

Further, contractors were involved. That didn’t sit well at all. DeMetrie didn’t know what was going on, but he aimed to find out.

“Jenkins! He called out. Lets go for a ride”.

****

When DeMetrie arrived on scene it was tense. A couple of contractors were yelling with a couple of his men. While the contractors had side-arms, his men had the advantage of M4’s, body armor and ACH helmets. The Humvee with the M2 .50 cal machine gun blocking in the contractors pickup didn’t hurt either.

”Quiet the fuck down!” he announced as he walked up.

“Corporal, sitrep?” he demanded of the African-American soldier that looked oddly like Cuba Gooding Junior.

“Sir, these men were hauling this civi down the street kicking and screaming. We came around the corner and they tried to double-time it. Gave us nothing but attitude when we tried to investigate” came back the report.

The larger contractor chimed in. “Captain, this is a civilian matter. We’re taking this person of interest back to the Sheriff’s office for questioning. He’s just a little restless is all”.

Captain DeMetrie leaned in and shone a light on Klepper’s face. “So, what is this giant red mark on the civilians face?” he inquired of the contractors.

“He bumped his face on the door jam as we tried to help him out”.

“Fuck off!” came the suddenly emboldened Klepper. “You fucking hit me”, he protested.

A small argument broke out between Klepper and the contractor who still held him by the arm.

“Enough!” shouted the irritated Captain. “The civilian will ride in my Humvee back to City Hall”. He cut the contractors off before they could protest. “This is a civilian matter and you’ll get to deal with it. But technically you are all breaking my curfew and I’ve not seen your identification to make sure you’re really acting in an official capacity. So he rides with me back to your station house and you can deal with him from there”.

Captain DeMetrie nodded at the corporal who then took charge of Klepper from the contractor who was clearly not pleased. The contractor tried to stare down the Captain who in turn ignored him.

As they got into the Humvee Captain DeMetrie told the driver to go slow. He turned around and addressed Klepper. “Ok son, you’ve got about 5 minutes till we get back to City Hall. I want to know exactly what is going on and I want to know it right now”.

Jason Klepper told him everything he knew about John Miller and the events of the past few days. The socially awkward outcast knew a surprising amount of information, all of which he gave to the Captain.

[The Stig]

Smythe exploded with rage when the contractors raced into the station house and told him what had transpired. The contractors had radioed back as soon as DeMetrie’s men released them and then raced to City Hall to fill in the details.

“That fucking twat!” screamed Smythe as he pounded the table. People in the outer offices jumped as items bounced off the desk. He quickly collected himself and turned to Bobby. “Bobby, be a good lad and see the Captain in when he arrives”.

“Captain” said the barely contained Smythe as they addressed each other for the first time. “I hear we’ve had a bit of a confrontation. I trust we have no problems”. Smythe put on his best air of authority. It was one that combined with his height, impeccable dress and general demeanor usually worked to put people off balance.

“Yes sir. We have. Some of your contractors appear to have assaulted a civilian in the course of their duties. My men intercepted them and here we are”, reported the clearly unimpressed Captain.

“I see. We do have a problem them. I would suggest you and I have a talk with my men while this Mister Klepper receives medical treatment” offered Smythe.

DeMetrie was no dummy. He knew the second Klepper was taken out of his sight he’d likely be hauled off to some camp or at the very least would be held until DeMetrie’s unit was ordered out of the area.

“Well sir” said the Captain “the men who stayed behind at Mr. Klepper’s house also found radio equipment, weapons, cash and several other suspicious items. There’s a good chance he’s starting some sort of insurgency unit. At the very least, his home is a safety hazard. I’m taking him back with me to my headquarters until my intelligence guys can get up here from the coast in the morning to interrogate him.”

Smythe about spit out his coffee. Even the normally level-headed Sergeant Jenkins was taken aback by the captains bluff.

“I’d hardly say this gentleman is a terrorist and he’s involved with some men wanted for murder. That makes it clearly a civilian matter” paired Smythe.

“Sorry sir. This is a matter of National Security and no matter how unclear things are in the United States right now, the fact is we’re still one country and Homeland Security trumps civilian matters” fired back the Captain.

There was a clear moment of tension in the air and for a brief second DeMetrie thought one of the contractors might be dumb enough to try something. Then again, M4’s, body armor and ACH helmets go a long way to keep people from doing dumb things.

DeMetrie, Jenkins, the other soldiers and Klepper walked out of the station and drove back to the High School.

****

Miller and his friends kept moving all night long. Smythe, normally a professional, had so lost his cool over the incident with Captain DeMetrie and Jason Klepper that he essentially spent the night plotting how to kidnap Klepper. After several hours it was determined that trying to storm a military compound was not a great idea no matter how skilled Smythe's men were. It was loss of focus that was uncharacteristic but it gave Miller, Dink and Webb the time they needed to get out of town and out into the countryside.

As the night sky was starting to lighten a bit Miller's group took a rest break to eat quickly, reorganize and change modes from night movement to day. Their mission would get more difficult with daybreak. Obviously they would be more exposed to being sighted and it would drastically cut down on their overland travel speed.

They had made it three quarters of the way to the small shed on the way to Lumberton where Dink had stashed some supplies. The men figured they could reach the shed, replenish, lay low and again wait for nightfall to complete the trip to Lumberton. Miller wanted to reach the outskirts of Lumberton before the morning of their third day so they'd have plenty of time to scout out their proposed landing site, set up ambushes, and generally make a good plan. They got lucky the first time the airplane swooped in, they weren't likely to be as lucky this time.

As they policed their trash Webb asked, "think they'll have a bird up today?"

Dink replied, "I figured those boys would have had one up tonight. I think they might have been asleep at the switch."

Miller agreed, "We got lucky boys. Things are only going to get harder from here."

All of the men knew things were probably about to get ugly.

[The Stig]

Sheriff Ketch coordinated the landing of the helo in the small park next to city hall. As the Bell UH-1H landed it kicked up dust and debris forcing the sheriff to hold on to his Smokey the Bear hat. The pilot trotted over, bent at the waist in the classic "running under helicopter blades" position.

Ketch escorted the pilot into Smythe's office where he met with Bobby, the second in command. Smythe had taken a phone call from Senator Donovan.

"Ok, listen" said Bobby dispensing with any formalities "we've put together a search pattern and we're starting it right now. We'll do what we can until you are bingo fuel. We'll hit the county airport to refuel and then resume the pattern. Myself and two of my men will be joining you as a quick reaction force in the event we make contact. I'll fill you in on the details once we get airborne."

"I'm ready whenever you are Bobby" replied the pilot. "Let me hit the head and we'll get on with it".

"I'll meet you at the chopper" he said back with a smile.

While Smythe and all the men called him Bobby, and he kept an outward appearance of being a nice guy, the plain fact was Bobby as a sadistic son of a bitch. The fact was he personally carried out the orders to burn Miller's house to the ground and he carried them out with glee. His history was one of random moments of brutality thinly hidden behind a wide smile and a childlike name.

****

"Listen Smythe, I've got most of the counties falling in line and only sporadic trouble makers. What's the friction down your way?" asked Senator Donovan of one of his main contractors.

"Senator, we've got the situation well in hand. There is some local rabble rousing in a small town west of here and a couple of towns folks who may be playing hero, otherwise everything is running smoothly" Smythe stretched the truth a fair amount to avoid any confrontations.

"Bullshit Smythe!" fired back Donovan. "I'm fully aware that you've lost five men, your "hero's" are fully capable of attracting a lot of attention, the rednecks are getting fired up in Lumberton and your local military contingent is being run by Dudley Do-Right. You've got brewing problems down there and I want them taken care of. This martial law business is a risky move and my plans will not be derailed by one jerkwater county. Get your house in order."

Miles Donovan was not one to mince words.

"Senator, we've already got a helo in the air to deal with the hero's and while the local military commander is a dreamer I'm confident we can convince him to deal with the folks in Lumberton. You will not get any problems from my end Sir" said a controlled but clearly uncomfortable Smythe.

It took Smthye several seconds to realize the Senator had already hung up the phone.

He went back to his now empty office and sat back in his chair. Donovan was good, very good, at what he did. He didn't assume command of three states without attracting much nationwide attention by accident. But it didn't leave much to the imagination to determine how Donovan knew what he knew.

****

DeMetrie stared at his morning coffee as he Jenkins and Lowry ran over the morning details. They worked out the continuing search rotations and crafted a plan for dealing with the brewing trouble in Lumberton.

"Listen Jenk" started off the tired Captain, "send a squad and reinforce Baker-2 in Lumberton. That's a bad situation over there. We don't want any drunk fools causing shit and force a tough situation into a really bad one. I figure it will be a quiet morning. Take advantage of it to get men over there, try to find someone with a level of authority in the town and get them to help calm things down. Close down the bars and stores that sell booze. That will piss people off but it may help keep people from getting blitzed."

"Roger that Cap".

After Jenkins left to organize and dispatch the men the Captain ran his hands through his hair and turned to Lowry. "Now we have to track this Miller guy down and get to him before Smythe does. I don't know his story, and don't really care but I'll be dammed if we let a good guy get ramrodded by one of those scumballs".

"I hear you Captain. They have a bird in the air" replied back the Sargent.

"Yea, I heard it this morning. I don't suppose that was brought in to deliver water to the orphans" the Captain said sardonically.

"No, probably not Cap. I have a small squad of guys on standby as a quick reaction force. I figure whether the bird finds Miller, or the bird responds to someone on the ground who found Miller, that wherever that bird takes up residence Miller will be nearby. I can't imagine Miller's too much farther than this after last night", Lowry outlined an arc on the map. "If they find him today we'll be able to respond from here. If it gets too far out that a Humvee can't respond quickly enough I'll have units set up to respond further out".

"Sargent Lowry. You truly are an army of one".

"Captain, I know these contractors are fucksticks but is this a fight we want?" asked Lowry.

"Lowry, I have no idea. All I know is that it's our job to enforce martial law for the safety of the people of the county. I can't imagine any less safe situation than being hunted down by these contractor types."

"Well Sir" said the Sargent "That is why you have bars and I have rockers".

****
Bobby came trotting back into City Hall as the Huey lifted off in a cloud of dust and noise. Smythe had recalled him just as they were getting ready to leave.

"Oh good Bobby, I'm glad I caught you in time." He turned his attention to Sheriff Ketch. "Sheriff, I've gotten a lead that John Miller and his group may have been seen in the area around his house." Bobby and the Sheriff looked at each other somewhat quizzically. Miller was too smart to spend time in an area he knew was likely to be watched, not to mention his home and barns had been burnt to the ground.

Smythe read the confusion on his men's faces. "Listen, I think the report is thin too, but this is important. I want the people to know we're responding to their concerns. Now Sheriff, take Bobby and another one of my men with you. Put together a plan of how you'll search the area and what you will do in the event you do encounter Miller. This operation is important to me".

Ketch was irritated that he we being lectured on how to run an operation but this was the opening he needed to get back in the game with Smythe. He definitely liked being in charge of Bobby, this was the way things were supposed to be.

"While you are at it Sheriff, go check out that Thompsons place to make sure my men cleaned it properly. Then go over to the airport. The chopper can pick you back up there when it refuels." commanded Smythe. "I'll make sure the communications and search team's are covered until you get back" he added for good measure.

"Oh Bobby" called out Smythe as he and the Sheriff were departing. "Come here a second. I need to go over the search details with you to make sure I don't muck them up".

"I'll meet you in the truck Bobby" declared Sheriff Ketch. "And pick out a man who's good with a rifle" he added.

It was as if new life had been pumped into the Sheriff. While he continued to find Smythe insufferable, this was the opportunity he needed to regain control of his department.

[The Stig]

John Miller couldn't help day dreaming as they walked through the wooded land. The visions of little Ava playing in the backyard of her new house for the first time flooded his mind. The time she laughed and squealed as she played on a swing was as vivid as the day it happened. He figured that if all went well the plane carrying her would be landing in Wyoming later that night. If all went well...that was a big qualifier.

Webb's brother had to fly his plane low, across thousands of miles of land, while avoiding detection from radar or military aircraft. He was lucky that he was mostly flying though areas that were currently uncontested in the dispute between the forces of Crutchfield and Alan. But ultimately, he still had to pull off a long stressful trip to get Miller's family to Wyoming safely. Then he had to make the same trip two more times to come get Miller and his friends.

He wasn't sure how things had spiraled out of control so quickly.

He was slammed back into reality by the sound of a helicopter flying low. Because of the low altitude, the chopper was able to get relatively close to the men's position before they heard it. Instinctively they all dropped to the ground and froze immediately. As the sound grew closer and closer Miller's heart started to pound. Had they been tracked somehow? It's not like they had days to plan a stealthy track. They were basically making a straight line to Lumberton. While Sheriff Ketch and Smythe had to search an entire county it only made sense to keep an eye on the next biggest town in the area.

The distinctive thump thump thump noise of the rotor-blades passed several hundred yards to the left of their position and then faded off into the distance.

Dink, as usual, was first to speak up. "Well boys, I doubt that was a traffic chopper".

"I think we may want to step to and get to this shed" advised Miller.

****

Captain DeMetrie poked into the science classroom that served as Jason Klepper's temporary home. Klepper amused himself by reading textbooks and playing with Bunsen burners. So far he had only managed to burn himself once.

"Captain, thank you for what you are doing for me" expressed Klepper to the man who has essentially saved his life.

"Don't thank me yet. You aren't in the clear. I just wanted to check in to make sure you are taken care of. I don't know how this thing is going to play out but I think you'd be well advised to continue to be our guest for a while." The Captain appeared to inspect the bed, small locker and supply of food Klepper was given.

"No, this is great. Really. I'm fine and am glad to stay. Those contractors are assholes"

Before DeMetrie could respond a corporal for the communications section came running into the room.

"Sir, you need to hear this!" he declared. That, of course, served to get the attention of Klepper, DeMetrie and the guard standing just inside the door.

"Cap we picked up increased radio traffic on a band that's been used before by these contractors. It's scrambled so we can't make out info but there was a definite increase in radio activity just a few minutes ago" spelled out the Corporal.

DeMetrie thought for a minute as he began walking back towards his command room. His communications man naturally followed him and they talked as they walked.

"Do we know the position of the chopper when the traffic spiked?"

"Yes Captain. I already have it plotted for you on the board". DeMetrie had set up a separate easel with a map dedicated to the search for Miller. There was already a sea of maps spread out on tables with various soldiers working on various tasks. The "Miller Map" stood prominently at the front of the class room. "here it is here, Sir".

His commands flowed quickly and suddenly.

"Goldberg" he addressed the communications Corporal, "continue to track the radio traffic and work with the guys in here to plot out when and where the spikes occur. Be ready for Sargent Lowry's group that will be leaving. I want their comms to be 5 by 5. Make sure this group, including me, is on the right freqs"

To another soldier standing close by, "Go get Sargent Lowry on the double".

"Sir!" came the quick reply as the young soldier ran out of the room.

"The rest of you guys I want a fire team assembled and on standby. They aren't going anywhere yet, but things could get interesting with our friends across town square. Keep them out of view for now. Just make sure they have vehicles at the ready."

"Fritz" he called out to a solider. "Your sole job is to know where Smythe is at all times until I tell you otherwise."

"Sir" came the crisp reply.

By this time Sargent Lowry came in the room. "Walk with me Sargent" the Captain instructed.

"Ok, Lowry" the Captain continued as they walked back out towards the two Humvee's just outside the school building. "Looks like your hunch paid off. Radio traffic on freqs the contractors used spiked. You'll get the coordinates on your comm system in the Humvee. No idea if they have found Miller but you better get your team and go".

"Roger that Captain" replied the erstwhile Sargent.

"Now listen Lowry" the Captain said. "I have no idea what these contractors are up to, or capable of. We're on thin ice here since our mission didn't include starting a turf war. Use your judgment out there. Do what you can to avoid starting something, but if you or your men are threatened you are cleared to engage."

"You got it Captain" responded the Sargent who hopped in the passenger side of the lead Humvee.

Captain DeMetrie watched them fire up and drive off down the road. The drivers, obviously aware they were likely being watched by the contractors across the square, drove slowly and were sure to do nothing that would raise suspicions.

As they turned the corner and disappeared from view Mike DeMetrie hoped he was doing the right thing.

****

Ketch's truck pulled up to the still smoldering remains of John and Christy Miller's house. He made Smythe's man drive and he sat in the back as if he was being chauffeured. Bobby and his counterpart got out of the truck and began searching the property as Ketch had instructed them.

They took ten minutes to determine there was nobody in the immediate area of the house. "I could have told you that" snorted the obese and sweaty Sheriff.

The men continued to poke around until Smythe's man yelled out "Sheriff, over here, something you have to see". He motioned down into what appeared to be the basement area. "Over in the corner there" he pointed at something "it almost looks like a body".

Instinctively, both men leaned over slightly as they tried to discern the shape in the midst of charred debris.

Bobby's suppressed Glock 23 barked it's distinctive "thuuump" sound at the same time the round crashed into the back of Sheriff Ketch's knee. The Sheriff screamed out in agony as he collapsed and pitched forward down into the basement. There was a loud crash and cloud of ash stirred up by the bulk of the Sheriffs body slamming down. Blood poured from the mangled mess of shattered bone and ripped flesh as the Sheriff tried to stem the flow of blood and he writhed in agony.

"What the....what.....holy hell" was all he could spit out.

Bobby proceeded to place another round into the Sheriffs upper thigh. The process of screaming, grasping at shattered bone and flesh and swearing repeated itself.

As the shock set into the Sheriff's system Bobby hopped down into the pit that was soon to be the Sheriff's crypt. His eyes glazed over with what could simply be described as lunatic ecstasy. "Looks like you picked the wrong man to rat out fatso. Your stunt passing info to Donovan was a really, really bad idea".

"Please...please no" protested the Sheriff as he writhed in a crumpled mess of ash, blood and flesh. The metallic click of Bobby's automatic knife cut through the still air of the burnt out basement.

Terror filled the Sheriffs eyes. "No...god no...please..."

Bobby knelt down next to the heap that had become of Sheriff Ketch. "Now Sheriff, what do you suppose God has to do with any of this?".

The last sounds of Sheriff Ketch's life were whimpering and crying as Bobby remorselessly carved him to pieces.

[The Stig]

As President Allan's motorcade left the Plaza Hotel the country had already panned his latest speech aimed at quelling the growing tensions between the North East and his support base. He and his advisers had basically ignored the Southern and Western portions of the country and focused on avoiding the brewing conflict. Thus far they had failed. It didn't help that the fiery politicians in the North East were stirring up trouble in every speech, meeting and interview they gave. The media dutifully reported every word.

Crutchfield was in a tough spot. He had an entire geographic region of ardent supporters, billions of dollars of operating funds and at least a couple of military commanders who secretly met with him to express their support. They were, clearly, committing treason but that was the sort of man Crutchfield was. He inspired loyalty as he drove his people over a cliff.

But despite all his power, he couldn't openly encourage a rebellion let alone try to stage a military attack. His only option was to orchestrate a situation wherein he could launch a coup with a thin veneer of justification.

Because he couldn't openly throw around military forces, unlike the President, he had to do things a little more subtly. That was why he instigated the riot several days before. At the same time the President's speech was flopping, Crutchfield supporters, bolstered by some contractors and "civilian militia groups" staged a march in Youngstown, Ohio. Before it was over there was a full blown firefight and military forces were called in to assist the police. Over 30 people were killed and the country was in shock. Accusations and counter accusations flew and the North Eastern politicians whipped their constituents into a frenzy. It was a modern day Heymarket Riot.

Before night fell the media almost universally painted the incident as an effort by the President to crush people exercising their First Amendment rights. Crutchfield gave a televised address calling for impeachment proceedings and offering to help guide the country back on course. Before morning would break the following day military commanders who cast their lot with Crutchfield would be mobilizing their troops.

The country was headed to war with itself at a breakneck pace.

****

As he climbed out of the basement of John Miller's house Bobby turned to his man, "take what's left of him and make it look like Miller tried to hide a body in a house fire".

The man, a thug in his own right, was clearly stunned by the brutality of Bobby's attack. He could barely stammer out, "uh...while you were....well....base called on the radio. Um....the chopper thinks they found something. They had to return to the airport to refuel...".

"Ok, I'm taking the truck." he said brusquely.

As Bobby was burning rubber and kicking up a dust cloud the contractor simply stared at the bloody heap of flesh that once was a man. It took him a couple of minutes to will himself to radio base for a lift and get to work.

****

At the same time as President Alan's speech, Miller's group was busily stuffing more food and other supplies into their packs at Dink's hunting cabin and resupply point. The cabin had all the charm of a truckstop bathroom but it had what the men needed. A place to catch a 10 minute cat nap, eat some chow and reorganize their gear. They knew they had a couple days to kill in the countryside and they would have to avoid contact at all costs.

The cabin was typical of many hunting cabins in the area. It was in a somewhat small, lightly wooded area that provided some cover but still allowed 25 to 50 yards of visibility as the trees were mature and there weren't many branches below 25 or 30 feet. The cabin was nestled in between several large rocks at the top of a small hill which wasn't by accident. It was only about 600 yards in most any direction from the cabin to wide open low lying areas that surrounded it.

"Dink...it's a shame your interior decorator had to kill himself after they got done working on this place" declared Webb.

"Boy, you live in the Bat-Cave. Choke on it" fired back Dink in good fun.

****

Lowry's two Humvee's took a cautious and circuitous route on the 14 mile journey to where the Captain had suspected the chopper located Miller. They didn't want to draw attention to the fact they were onto Smythe's men by racing directly to the spot. As such it took much longer to get to the area.

Lowry had already briefed his squad on Miller and the situation at hand. While none of them knew Miller they all understood his predicament. Good guy, likely falsely accused if the Captains information was correct, on the run from contractors who really had no reason for restraint. While the country was in turmoil and Donovan was running the show they were above the law.

"Listen up" he said as they started a course that would get them near the suspected site. "First off the grid we were given appears to be in a wooded area. Also, Miller likely kept moving after they were spotted so we're already going to behind the power curve when we finally do get to the site. We're going to get as close as we can to the area and then start a search pattern from there"

And for good measure he threw in, "you men are cleared to defend yourself. A contractor makes a move on you, open it up. If we get in a tight spot the Cap has a fire-team that can be here ricky-tick. Clear?".

The other three men in his Humvee responded affirmatively.

[The Stig]

The chopper set down Bobby and his two men in a small clearing about 1000 yards away from where the heat signatures were picked up. When the chopper found them earlier the pilot noted where they were but didn't break course and circle to give away to the men on the ground they had been spotted. Since they'd have to land so far away they would have already lost the element of surprise. And without Bobby there were only two of them to deal with three men who would have likely been dug into some sort of defensive position. That the chopper was getting close to fumes didn't help either.

By returning to get Bobby and refuel the chopper could be on station should the men need an extract. They also added to their firepower and it allowed Smythe time to send out a squad of men to reinforce them. While they'd have to reacquire Miller, tactically, it made more sense.

The men dropped from the skids before the choppers set down fully in the tall grass. It was not unlike their fathers had done 40 years earlier in South-East Asia. They scurried off and began tracking towards the site where the men were spotted as the chopper lifted off and took up a station just out of the distance.

Within thirty minutes they had reached the site.

"They didn't head back to town and odds are they are trying to get to Lumberton. Fan out and we'll work our way west towards those fields we saw as we came in" instructed Bobby.

"Oh" he added ominously "We don't need to worry about the Sheriff anymore. We'll be taking care of this issue from here on out".

The other two contractors looked at each other and began moving out.

****

Maggie Bond grew up with a hard life. Her mom died young and her father, Wallace, was a hard drinking and abusive man. They lived far outside of Lumberton in a small, run down trailer. During the 1960's and '70's Lumberton was one of a million thriving small towns across the country thanks to the pickle and lumber plants. After the pickle plant left town and the lumber industry jobs dried up the town withered.

As she hung the laundry on the line outside the trailer her mind drifted off to the many things she used to occupy her mind. She was an intelligent and strangely streetwise child of 16 who loved art. She'd spend hours drawing or painting something with the art set she was given by some church ladies who recognized her talents. Of course her father, never one who received much kindness, made it a target of his ridicule.

Income in the house was sporadic at best. Wallace would work occasional odd jobs for people and make just enough money to eek by. Maggie supplemented their income by selling her artwork at fairs and festivals. It was yet another way Wallace was threatened by his daughter. But her art gave her an escape and a hope that someday she wouldn't live in squalor and shame.

As she whistled a sad tune and continued to hang the laundry she couldn't help but think about the next painting she'd tackle. Maybe this time she'd try a landscape of some sort. She'd mostly done animals, buildings and people but never really done any work in nature. She decided that tomorrow, after Wallace had passed out, she'd go for a walk in the woods with her sketch pad and give it a try.

She finished hanging the last pair of pants on the clothes line and walked back to the trailer buoyed by the thought that tomorrow she'd be able to escape for a few hours.