The Jared Chronicles | Book 4 | The Devil's Bastion, page 5
part #4 of The Jared Chronicles Series
John registered the soldier’s look of recognition, which was instantly replaced with a mask of genuine fear as the soldier fumbled for the safety on his rifle. John could not allow two things to happen, or he and Jared would be eating a shit sandwich very quickly. First, John couldn’t have Jared firing his unsuppressed rifle at the soldier, and second, he could not allow the soldier to get off a round with his own unsuppressed weapon. Both scenarios would alert the other six soldiers, and John couldn’t have that.
Mustering all the training and discipline he’d garnered over the years of his military life; John pulled his rifle up and drove it forward like a lance in the direction of the struggling soldier. His trigger finger gathered most of the rifle’s trigger slack while he went through the production of getting the weapon generally into his shoulder or at least as close to a perfect firing position as he could manage considering the time constraint placed on this task.
Two quick snaps from John’s rifle and the soldier’s pale face grew paler as he dropped straight to the ground like an abandoned doll. Instead of yelling for Jared to hold his fire, John moved at a sprint, placing himself between Jared and the fallen soldier, knowing Jared wouldn’t fire through him to get at the downed soul—at least John hoped Jared wouldn’t shoot. He was upon the soldier in a flash, kicking the weapon from the still dying man’s hand in order to ensure no shots were fired from the man’s rifle.
Jared came racing around the truck, his face telling John his partner was definitely spun up, but not panicked. John, on the other hand, was trying to deal with their current situation while at the same time struggling to lay out a plan for the others who would be returning shortly, not to mention what to do once it was all over. The soldier wasn’t dead, breathing in great gasping rasps that would have sickened most people. As Jared stopped beside the downed soldier, John knew he wouldn’t be executing the felled soldier with Jared around, and quite frankly, John doubted he would have without Jared present.
The man’s death was assuredly an eventuality, and the intelligent tactical action would have been to hurry this process along so John could move on to phase two of this unplanned goat rodeo, but Jared’s staying hand in situations involving human life had begun to find its way into John’s own moral compass.
“Watch the trail. Don’t shoot unless you absolutely have to. There are two more of these bastards back at the OP, and I’d prefer dealing with ’em on our terms, not theirs,” John said tersely while gazing upon the mess at his feet.
Jared glanced at John, then back at the soldier, who thankfully was lying on his side with his face buried in the grass.
John gave Jared an incensed look. “I’m not gonna shwack a downed dude, bro. Don’t worry, go.”
Jared shook his head. “No, let’s get this guy in the truck, then set up an ambush, hit the four when they get back to the truck. Can you get all four?”
John stared at Jared for a second, then nodded. “I think. We can set up an L shape, and if for some reason any of them get out of the kill zone, you can mop them up, but the cat’s gonna be out of the bag at that point, so let me work, and stay out of it unless you are one hundred percent sure it’s getting away from me,” John admonished.
Jared bobbed his head in agreement before casting a sober look at the still rasping man at their feet. John reached down and rolled the man onto his back, where his lifeless eyes stared unblinkingly into the heavens above.
“He’s as good as gone. Let’s put him in the truck, passenger side, and sitting up,” John said as he heaved the soldier into a sitting position.
Jared pushed his rifle to his back and grabbed the soldier’s legs, and together he and John moved the man to the passenger side of the truck. With a great deal of effort, they hauled the soldier onto his dead feet and pushed him against the rear quarter panel as John reached out forgettingly and tugged at the locked door.
“Muthafucker,” John growled. “Can this day get any more fucked up?”
Jared tugged at the soldier, whose breathing had suddenly stopped, and pushed the man to the ground. John let the man go as Jared slid him to the ground, where he hovered over the now dead soldier and began searching the man’s pockets. The soldier’s front right pants pocket was where Jared struck pay dirt, pulling a set of keys out and tossing them to John. A moment later the dead soldier was seated inside the truck, where, from a distance, he appeared to be patiently awaiting the return of his buddies.
The four soldiers who left the truck had done so by walking back down the road nearly ten yards, where they found a suitable avenue up the side of the hill. John banked on the men returning the same way, and set up his ambush position accordingly. John established his ambush location next to a large oak that would offer both cover and concealment while Jared hunkered into a low depression to the front of the truck in case any soldiers escaped John’s initial ambush and were able to seek cover on the opposite side of the truck. In this case, Jared would hammer them from the flank.
Both John and Jared heard the four returning soldiers long before they saw the men. Although they couldn’t discern exactly what the men were saying, the soldiers’ voices carried across the countryside, alerting the two ambushers lying in wait of their arrival. The lax attitude of the men didn’t disappoint John as he tracked their progress across the side of the hill. Before the men dropped down onto the road, one of them called out to the dead soldier propped up in the cab of the truck.
“Carter, get your ass in the back; you rode up front on the way in,” the man hollered. When Carter failed to respond, John heard the man grumble about sleeping on duty, before the four soldiers dropped onto the dirt road ten yards to the rear of the truck.
John had a fresh thirty-round magazine in his rifle and used his thumb to flick the safety to fire. Just feet prior to the first soldier reaching the tailgate of the truck, John let loose on the men. He swept left to right, hitting the first two soldiers high up in the shoulder area, hoping to slip rounds past the men’s body armor. The next two soldiers turned, squaring up on John, searching for the cause of their fallen brethren. They were felled with the next ten rounds of 5.56-millimeter buzz saws that tore into the unfortunate group of green, undisciplined soldiers.
John had purposefully engaged the soldiers before they came alongside the truck so he didn’t put any holes in the vehicle. He wasn’t sure exactly where the fuel tank on the vehicle was located, but decided not shooting the truck to bits was a good idea. John caught movement below him, realizing one of the soldiers was still alive and crawling slowly toward the ill-perceived sanctuary of the truck. This was different than the soldier before; if this man could crawl, he could surely pull the trigger. John shot the poor bastard three additional times, bringing the man’s crawling to a stop.
Carefully, while casting several glances back the way the four soldiers came, John got to his feet and moved down to the downed men. Seeing John moving, Jared also approached the truck, a sickened look painted on his bearded face.
“Sorry, man, I just can’t get used to killing guys like this.”
John gave him a grim nod, knowing Jared wasn’t a killer at heart. Jared always lamented after a fight, but to lie in wait and gun down unsuspecting men was probably tearing him apart inside, John surmised. “Let’s get these fellas into the bed, and then you can sit the next part out if you want.”
Jared gave a brusque shake of his head. “I’m not sitting any of it out, John. I don’t like it, but what I’d like less is letting them overrun us. Don’t want to think of what they’d do to Shannon, Essie and Steph.”
Ten minutes later, all five dead soldiers were stacked in the bed of the old Ford pickup truck. The men’s clothing and gear were left intact, but their weapons were hidden nearby in the event someone happened on the disaster. Next, Jared and John set off in the direction of the OP.
Their plan was to stalk to within two hundred yards of the two soldiers in the OP on the finger, set up, perform a countdown, and fire simultaneously, killing both men. The fact that Jared’s weapon would be heard all the way to the Thacker ranch was only regrettable in that it would probably send the girls into a tailspin, not knowing what was happening up in the hills. Jared would have loved to drop down and let everyone know what was happening, only they didn’t feel they had the time.
When the truck failed to return in a timely fashion, both Jared and John felt sure Carnegie would send people out to search for it. John suggested they kill the two at the OP and hide their bodies, after which he and Jared would return to the truck. They would drive the vehicle halfway back to Stockton, dump it in a ditch, lay the bodies around the truck, shoot the hell out of the thing, and do their best to create a false ambush site. Then Jared and John would leg it back to the ranch and decide what to do next.
As Jared and John drew near the finger, they dropped to their knees and crawled through the grass, searching for a site they could use to remove the two soldiers watching the Thacker ranch. The terrain didn’t lend itself to what John and Jared were trying to accomplish, with the only spot they could make a two-hundred-yard shot from being uphill in the open. If they missed or were discovered on their way into the final firing position, they’d be left with little to no cover.
It was what it was, both men knew what must be done, and they did it. Slithering through the grass like two giant serpents, they drew ever closer to their prey. Both moved slowly and deliberately, pulling themselves forward by pushing with their toes and pulling with their elbows. The human eye is attracted to movement, and this was what John was trying to overcome by keeping their progress as slow as possible.
When Jared felt they were close enough for him to make his shot, he tapped John’s leg from behind. John stopped, and Jared wormed his way up alongside him.
“Let’s take a minute to catch our breath and get set,” John suggested.
A minute later, John pulled his rifle into his shoulder and sighted the man on the left. “Take the guy on the right, make sure you’re off safe, and I will do the countdown. We fire on a zero, I won’t bother saying,” John whispered out of the side of his bearded mouth.
“Got it,” Jared answered, pulling his own weapon into his shoulder and acquiring the soldier on the right.
“Ready?”
“Yep.”
“Three, two, one—” Jared’s rifle was deafening as both men fired as one. John’s shot caught the man on the left squarely in the back of the head, killing him instantly, while Jared’s shot went a little low, striking the man on the right at the base of his neck where it connected to his shoulders. Jared’s shot, although slightly low, was just as effective as John’s, and both soldiers were very dead by the time John and Jared reached the OP.
Jared and John dragged the bodies downhill several hundred yards before depositing them in a small ravine created by one of the many seasonal creeks in the area. The carrion would come, that was a given, and that could give away the dead soldiers’ position, so John stripped both men, hoping to make their disposal that much easier for the wildlife whose job it was to rid the earth of rotting corpses. The men’s gear they hid in order to later come and retrieve it for their own use.
Both Jared and John were beginning to feel the effects of the dangerous mixture of limited sleep, adrenaline, and the exertion as they trudged back to the truck filled with soldiers’ bodies. Jared and John climbed into the truck, John driving and Jared sitting shotgun. John backed the truck carefully down the dirt road until it widened enough to turn the old truck around.
They drove in silence all the way to Highway 5, where they turned north, traveling along the shoulder. John held the wheel while Jared stared out the window at the scenery racing by outside his window. The feeling of riding in a car was welcome while at the same time, Jared fought to push away the thought of the horrific pile of dead human beings three feet behind him.
Prior to reaching the cutoff through the city of Tracy that would lead to San Francisco by way of Highway 580, John began looking for place to abandon the truck. As they approached a large semitruck-trailer combination, John pulled the Ford to a stop, surveying the area.
“Let’s see about blocking the road here, make it look like someone impeded their travel for an ambush.”
Chapter 5
Jared stepped out, and together he and John pulled a large strap from the semi’s trailer, using it to connect a smaller car to the Ford. John jumped back in the driver’s seat and more dragged than towed the car across the shoulder, effectively blocking passage. John rearranged the Ford, driving it off the side of the highway and down a slight incline before allowing the vehicle to push up against a fence, where it came to a stop. John left the old truck running, flipped the headlights on, and jumped out to help Jared with the grisly detail of hauling the bodies out of the Ford’s bed.
With a great deal of effort, Jared and John placed two of the men in the cab of the old Ford before pulling one of the soldiers out and dragging him back up, where they deposited his body on the side of Highway 5. When they returned to the Ford, Jared stopped, staring at all the blood in the bed of the truck.
“I say we just leave these two back there. If we take ’em out, someone is going to wonder where all that blood came from.”
John squinted at the remaining bodies in the bed, then gave a quick pursed-lip nod. He moved to the truck and did some quick rearranging of the soldiers’ body positions, then stepped back to admire his handywork.
“Now for the shitty part of this,” John said begrudgingly.
Jared scratched his beard, but didn’t respond. He was glad his rifle was not suppressed, therefore making John’s rifle the only option for their next move. Both men stepped back several yards before John let fly several rounds, striking both the truck and the already very dead soldiers. John didn’t empty the magazine; ammunition was far too valuable to waste even on a staged ambush scene. When John was finished, he and Jared policed the empty shell casings and carried them up to where the road was blocked. The men scattered the empty casings around the road’s surface in several spots behind the cover of the semitruck and a couple of other vehicles.
With no forensics team available to Carnegie, John wasn’t worried about fingerprints or ballistics tests. After staging the crime scene, John wanted to sit down and take a load off, but had a nagging feeling they were running out of time and quickly.
“Now we get to walk home,” John announced, his voice heavy with irony.
Jared turned slowly, studying the scene near the truck. His mind was becoming foggy due to lack of sleep, water, and food. The continual adrenaline dumps compounded by his physical output over the last couple of days was becoming a real threat to sound decision-making. Jared felt as though they were missing something if they simply turned and made their way back to the Thacker ranch. He drew a breath through his nostrils, letting the cold air assaulting his sinuses shock his mind into a more wakeful state, and then it hit him.
“We have to strip these guys of all their gear. No one is out here killing people for the hell of it. They prey on people so they can take what they have. No one is going to leave behind all those weapons and ammunition.”
John leaned against a small dusty blue Honda Civic marooned in the slow lane of Highway 5 and stared up at the sky. He knew Jared was right and hated he hadn’t thought of this. He also wasn’t all that happy about the extra weight they’d be required to lug out of the area.
“You’re right, but we have to suck it up and make this fast. I have a bad feeling.”
Jared shot a worried look north along the great highway, knowing exactly what John was referring to. He had the same sentiment, wanting to get off the highway and back up into the relative safety of the hills, away from the flatness of the valley and all the death he and John had created. Both men set to stripping the soldiers of gear and weapons along with the shoes from three of the unfortunate soldiers. The hodgepodge looting of the soldiers was meant to further convince whatever reactionary force came out that the men had been attacked by a few locals who then took the soldiers’ weapons and three pair of shoes that must have matched three of the ambushers’ foot sizes.
Finished looting the soldiers’ dead bodies, Jared and John set out, loaded with the men’s rifles, ammunition, and body armor. After a quarter mile, John and Jared began dropping body armor and web gear into the trunks of different vehicles left on the highway. They’d broken the rifles down and stored them in their packs along with the ammunition, which were the only things they intended on taking back to the Thacker ranch.
As soon as Jared dropped the last of the dead soldiers’ gear into the trunk of a filthy Lexus SUV, he and John turned west and hoofed it for the hills. Within an hour, they were climbing upward into the protection of the rolling hills. Jared led the way as the men climbed higher and higher into the small mountain range, the breadboard landscape to their rear falling away, much to both men’s relief.
Dropping over a small rise, Jared flopped to the ground, pulling out a water bottle and gulping down several mouthfuls. John did the same as Jared returned his bottle to his pack.
“We need some rest, man,” Jared said, thinking he was going to have an argument on his hands over mentioning taking some time off.
John finished drinking, wiped a dirty sleeve across some water caught in his beard, and bobbed his head in agreement. “Need to find a place we can crawl into and both sleep,” John rasped before hacking, then spitting out whatever had been in his throat. “Really wish I’d seen the guy at the truck. This is all a mess now.”
Jared used his thumb and finger to smooth his mustache as if he’d waxed the bushy thing. “Yeah, girls are probably going out of their minds right about now, I guarantee you that.”
John chuckled. “No shit, bro. Everyone is going to flip when we get back. I really think we’re all in for some tough times with Carnegie. I should have taken Ray’s rifle back there the week after the Navy left, and tried to kill the old bastard or at least skull capped Josh. Without Josh, Carnegie’s ability to wage war is significantly reduced.”
