“They’re fine,” was all John could say, and then he looked past Bob to Kevin. “Go ahead and show him what we brought along.”
Kevin put his hand on Bob’s shoulder and guided him to the back of the pickup truck and pulled off the tarp covering the rear of the vehicle. Bob stared for a moment and then looked back to John.
“Upon all that I hold sacred, John, I swear to you they are not mine. I’ve never seen them before.”
“We stripped them of their gear,” Kevin said coldly. “High-quality stuff, regular army. The one Colonel Matherson shot in the face was roasted to a crisp when his house burned. His grave is the rubble that’s still smoldering. We’re still hunting the last one, but he won’t last long; he’s trailing blood. You want them back, sir?”
Bob looked over sharply at Kevin and shook his head. “Bury the bastards wherever you want. They’re not mine, and that’s final.”
“Kevin, take them to where we dumped the bodies of the dead Posse. That’s all they deserve.”
As he spoke, he watched Bob closely. Both he and Bob had been taught a code of honor when it came to their own dead. Not even a body was ever to be left behind, no matter what the cost of retrieving it.
Bob did not flinch or show the slightest emotion at John’s cold words of scorn.
“John, if there is nothing else, do I have your permission to leave?”
John could only nod.
Bob turned and started to walk back to his Humvee.
“General Scales?”
Bob turned and looked back.
“If not you, then who?”
Bob stopped and then slowly walked up to John, stopping almost within touching distance. Kevin was on one side of him, Lee on the other, and both were tense, ready to spring.
“Look me in the eyes, John.”
John did as requested.
“Upon the memory of Jennifer’s grave and wherever my Linda now rests, I swear to you I did not do this.”
“Then who?”
“I gave you a warning. There are more than a few who want you dead, John Matherson. I hate to think it is who I now suspect, but maybe it is.”
John took that in but did not reply.
“And if so, and if they tried for you in your home, they know more about you than even I do. It means you have someone in your community who has given information out.” He paused as if suddenly realizing something. “And it means they know that you and I have talked.”
He stood silent as if evaluating that thought.
“God be with you, John,” Bob whispered, “and maybe I should ask that He be with me as well in the days ahead.”
John did not reply as Bob turned again and walked back to his Humvee, which backed up, turned, and then sped off.
“I don’t believe him,” Lee finally said, and Kevin nodded.
John kept his thoughts to himself and then finally looked at Kevin. “Dump their bodies like I said,” John finally said. “And, Kevin, keep a twenty-four-hour watch on Makala, and I am not to know where she is.”
“Already taken care of, sir.”
“Lee, mind if I bunk with you?”
His friend smiled and nodded.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Ernie, I need something, and I need it now,” John announced while still standing out in the snow in Ernie’s driveway.
For once, Ernie was out the door to greet him and actually grabbed John by the hand. “You okay? We heard about what happened last night. Makala, is she okay?”
“Yes, just fine. We’re fine.”
“Those sons of bitches.”
Lee had thrown a fit when, at midday, John had roused from his exhausted sleep and announced he was going to visit Ernie.
That had triggered an explosion of anxiety, with Kevin appearing with a pickup truck–load of their troops, fully armed, several of them wearing the captured gear taken from the dead raiders.
The last attacker had been found dead, shortly after dawn, having apparently bled out from his wounds, and after being stripped, he had been dumped with the others.
At least for the moment, it meant to John that he was safe and would not let what happened stop him from his routine, and that included using Maury’s jeep when it was snowing, so he ordered Kevin and the others to relax and get some sleep. An order reluctantly obeyed.
“Mind if we come in?” John asked, nodding over to Maury, who was standing beside his jeep and throwing blankets over the seats to keep the snow that was falling from covering them.
“Why don’t you have a top for that damn thing?” Ernie asked, shouting to Maury.
“Couldn’t find one that was authentic to the period.”
“Oh, great, historical accuracy before comfort.”
Maury did not reply. John knew it was painful enough for his friend to redo the paint job back early in the spring to cover over the white star on the front hood and paint the rest in a speckled camouflage pattern, which of course Maury had to match up with the Normandy 1944 look, so it was less easy to spot them from the air.
Maury just glared at Ernie and did not reply.
“All right, you two, come on inside.” He motioned to the door into the garage. Slamming it behind the two, Ernie turned, arms folded defensively.
“Are you going to shut me down?” he asked sharply.
“Hell no.”
“Well, I heard you are taking orders from our new potentate down at the Asheville airport and assumed you were sent here to pull the plug after he failed at his attempt at killing you.”
“Damn it, Ernie, did anyone ever discuss diplomatic conversation skills with you?”
“Nope. And if anyone ever does, I’ll tell them to go to hell.”
John couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, okay. Everyone knows. I surrendered without a fight. You got an alternative short of a bloodbath for our side? As to damn near getting killed, just leave that be for now.”
“How many troops does he have with him?”
“He’s got at least half a dozen Black Hawks, maybe as many Apaches, a couple of C-130s, and from what our lookouts in Hendersonville told us, at least half a dozen Bradleys and a dozen truckloads of supplies and additional troops up from Greenville. And you suggest we fight that?”
“Go up into the hills and wait him out. He’d be facing half a thousand or more very pissed-off, well-armed folks.”
“Ernie, you have been a burr under my hide from day one, but this tops it. I’m supposed to go back to those kids at the college and tell them to suit up and head out into the woods in this weather?” He snapped out the last words and pointed back outside where a lightly falling snow was being whipped along by twenty-mile-per-hour winds. “Half of them would freeze to death within a couple of days out there with no fires to keep warm. Light a fire, you got an Apache with infrared seeking on top of you.”
“He’s right, Ernie.”
The two turned to see Linda slowly coming down the basement stairs. “So stop needling him. You know as well as I do there was no chance to fight back, so let it be.”
“I was just suggesting an alternative, Linda.”
“Fine. You suit up, take a rifle, go sit out on the ridge for a few hours, and then come back and tell us if we should fight or not.”
“I’m seventy-five; those kids trained to fight are in their twenties.”