B.B.U.S.A. (Buying Back the United States of America) (36 page)

Doug started to make a move for his sidearm but was stopped when Ervin aimed the gun at his head. “Go ahead; do you want to be a hero? Try me, son. I’m your worst nightmare.”

Doug winced at the theatrical choice of words, thinking this guy had been watching too many late night television shows, but at the same time relaxed, waiting for the guy’s next words. He expected to hear “Go ahead, make my day.”

While Ervin had his attention focused on Doug, Leo un-holstered and retrieved the .38 revolver that was still clipped to his belt at the small of his back, and then griped the gun firmly in his right hand out of view from Ervin.

Ervin saw Bob limp across the road and head up the mountain by the spring. “I’ve got them,” he shouted. “I’ve wounded Leo and he’s in a lot of pain. I’m going to finish them off, okay?” Ervin had looked away for just an instant and then was staring back at Leo and Doug again. He had an evil smile on his face.

Bob was used to Ervin’s sadistic ways and responded that he did not care what he did with them, as long as they both ended up dead.

Leo looked down at his upper thigh trying to determine the severity of the wound. He hoped it wasn’t as bad as it felt. The amount of blood oozing from the wound did not look like a sufficient amount to indicate that a main artery had been hit; therefore he wasn’t in any immediate danger of bleeding to death.

Ervin grinned down at him. “See, you’re not so tough now, are you? You know something? Your office manager squealed for mercy when I beat her. She had perky little tits too. Of course I’m sure you noticed that around the office. Did you ever have the pleasure of touching those little knockers, Leo? I did. Not bad, eh? Perhaps you are just pouting now because you only dreamed of touching them.”

Ervin continued in an even somewhat friendly voice, “I bet your leg hurts. You know, you should have heard your office manager yell when I pinched her breast. At first I thought she was getting off on it. You know how some women mix pain with pleasure? They pour hot candle wax on you and shit like that? I admit I back handed her a few times. I didn’t even hit her all that hard, but each time the back of my hand connected with her soft cheek, this ring would just open her up.”

He seemed lost in the sickening enjoyment of reliving the memory. “If it weren’t for one of the pussy assed wimps we had with us, I would have had the pleasure of burning her alive. I guess the end result was the same either way. She’s still dead.” He laughed. “Just like you guys will be soon. I don’t mind prolonging it a bit, as I think I’ll actually miss the chase. Leo, you have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to this very moment!”

Leo glared at Ervin. He had never before so intently wished a man was dead. Doug was ever-so-slowly easing one hand towards his holstered pistol. Leo was waiting for the right moment to jerk his right hand out from behind his back and fire up at the looming figure above the back wall of the stone cabin.

Doug had unsnapped his holster while Ervin talked, but did not dare attempt to pull his side arm out yet.

Ervin continued to savor his recollections of the office manager. “I wonder something, Leo. Your office manager was bleeding, her blouse and skirt were ripped off and she begged for mercy. What I wonder is, will you do the same? Perhaps you might even begin begging before I shoot you again. Now ask me why?”

Leo looked at him with undisguised hatred on his face. If he could somehow play along for a moment, maybe one of them could get a chance to do something. “Ok, I’ll play your sick game. Why?”

“Oh I’m so glad you asked, because next I am going to shoot your balls off. Maybe, just maybe, if you begged convincingly, I might just shoot you in the head. You know, I really can’t stand cowards or beggars. So if you did a marvelous job of begging I’d probably just tire of your sniffling and plant a bullet right in your frontal lobe. So, now, answer the question, are you going to beg or just let me shoot your manhood off and watch you slowly bleed out?” Ervin aimed his side arm at Leo’s crotch.

A branch broke on the hillside above Ervin. He partially turned and looked up the hill, and then he raised his pistol in the direction of the snap. Leo brought up the .38 and aimed it at Ervin, immediately squeezing the trigger five times. Ervin stumbled with the impact of Leo’s bullets but maintained standing. At almost the same time, Doug pulled his 9mm and cocked it. Another gunshot cracked from above the cabin. Ervin was hit again in the stomach from someone higher up on the hill. At least three of Leo’s rounds connected with Ervin’s torso.

Time seemed to slow in Leo’s mind. A squirt of blood sprayed from Ervin’s abdomen and splashed on the collapsed canvas tent. Loose gravel fell from the upper side of the stone cabin and cascaded down onto the toppled aluminum tent poles, sounding like a faint gunshot echo. Ervin’s gun fired up the hill. He was severely off balance and already fatally wounded. He seemed suspended in the air at the top of the wall. Doug’s 9mm went off rapidly. Ervin’s hand managed to pull off one more round directed at the sky.

When Doug’s bullets penetrated Ervin’s body, instantly pulverizing bone and muscle, he was yanked from the top of the wall like a puppet. One second he was standing there and the next he was gone. More pistol fire erupted from the direction of the spring. The downed tent began to dance as pieces of tarp were flung in the air. Bob was shooting through the window opening into the stone cabin from the aspen trees near the spring.

Doug tossed the empty pistol down on the canvas tent, grabbed the .30-30, and peeked over the stone wall next to the window. He could see Bob hiding behind a clump of young quaking aspen trees. He was putting a new magazine in his pistol. Leo tossed the empty .38 revolver onto the tent, crawled over to his sleeping bag near the front entrance and picked up the shotgun, and cocked a round into its belly. Doug fired the .30-30 but missed. He quickly bolted another round into the chamber. Bob pointed his pistol in their direction.

Leo peeked around the open door frame and hollered back to his friend. “I’ll draw his fire, and then you can pop up and nail him.” Leo opened fire on him with the shotgun. Bob screamed out a superlative as some of the pellets ripped through his exposed flesh, but he managed to remain kneeling and returned fire with his 9mm, aiming at the open door frame trying to hit Leo.

Doug stood up, aimed the .30-30 at Bob’s exposed shoulder between two small aspen trees, and pulled the trigger of the rifle. The bullet hit its intended target. The force of the .30-30 slug knocked Bob over backwards. He lay still for a moment. Leo peeked out through the doorframe, pointing the shotgun in the direction he had last seen Bob kneeling. Doug chambered another round in his rifle and kept his crosshairs on Bob’s limp body. Much to their surprise, he coughed and tried to get up, but fell back down. He rolled over on his side, leaned on another aspen branch, and raised his gun in the direction of the stone cabin.

Doug, who had kept Bob in his sights the entire time, took the final shot. It hit him square in the neck, nearly decapitating him. He was dead before he touched the ground.

Leo and Doug stared at each other in disbelief for a few seconds. Leo pumped another round into the shotgun. “I think it was Florin who saved our asses. Why don’t you take the .22 rifle and head up the hill and see if you can locate him. He can’t be too far. I hope that tall guy didn’t hit him.”

“Okay.” He picked up the smaller rifle and hollered, “Florin, it’s me, Doug! I’m coming out of the cabin now. Don’t shoot! Are you all right?”

No one responded. “Be careful, buddy.” Leo warned.

“Yes, Mom.” He jumped out over the left side wall of the old stone cabin. Ervin’s broken body lay sprawled on the ground. His face was about the only body part still recognizable. Doug saw Florin leaning against a large pine tree, nearly twenty yards further up the hill. He could see blood on his shoulder. “I can see Florin, but he’s wounded. I’m going up to help him. Are you all right?”

“Yes, go, I’ll survive.” Leo found the opening to the tent and retrieved a T-shirt. He unbuttoned his 501 Levis and ripped the shirt in half. He balanced most of his weight on his left leg and leaned against the cabin rock wall, then he wrapped his right thigh the best he could. The bullet had only cut through about two inches of flesh, but it looked pretty nasty where it came out the back. Leo partially stuck the shirt into the wound and used the other half as padding, tying it around the wound to keep some pressure on the leg. He pulled his pants back up and buttoned the first three buttons to hold it all in place.

Doug reached Florin. He was in serious shape. He had been hit in the left shoulder and had a second bullet wound a few inches down on his left upper arm. Blood soaked his sleeve. Doug lifted him like he was a child and carefully carried Florin to the stone cabin, where he laid him down on top of the canvas tent. Florin was in and out of consciousness.

A ranger’s truck came barreling up the road. Leo tried to stanch the flow of blood from Florin’s wounds while Doug went down to talk to the rangers. They quickly used their radio to call the Custer County Sheriff’s office to request emergency help.

Within an hour Custer did not resemble a ghost town any more. Florin and John were both sent to Saint Alphonsus Regional Medical Center in Boise via Life Flight. It was John who Leo had shot with the .22. He was found to be in a great deal of pain under Doug’s truck, but was still alive. He had two bullet wounds in his legs and one in his butt. He had lost a fair amount of blood, but he would survive.

Leo and Doug were questioned repeatedly and sent to Boise in an ambulance, accompanied with a police escort, until the matter could be cleared up. Leo was happy. He smiled at his old buddy and extended his hand for a handshake. “You know I couldn’t have done it without you, bro. I owe you one.”

Doug smiled at Leo who was laying on the ambulance gurney. “Remember paybacks are hell, and you are darned right you owe me one. Big time! You can count on me calling it up when I need your help, so don’t you forget it, buddy. I had your back when you most needed it and perhaps someday you can return the favor.”

Custer was swarmed with Sheriff Deputies, Coroners, Police, FBI, Forest Service Rangers, Paramedics and various other rescue workers and media reporters. It became a hive of activity for several days. The event was so large there was no way the story would now go untold.

Leo and Sarah never reopened their real estate office. They simply referred their current business to other brokers or agents, and listed all their remaining investment properties so they could completely sever all ties to the former B.B.U.S.A. Organization. They thought they might open a little antique shop. Leo wanted to dabble in storage unit auctions and estate sales, and of course continue with his Santa Claus plans. Sarah thought she would try to turn her hobby of artwork into an actual second career and open her own art studio.

Leo purchased tickets back to the sleepy west coast resort in order to look up Sam and the over-the-hill waitress. This time he took his family. They ate at the old lighthouse restaurant and he showed them where it had all begun. He took the family out on the old pier at night and explained what had happened there. By luck, someone caught a catfish while they were there and Leo showed his sons the fin, called a pen, and let them see the ugly squirming thing. It was a way of leaving his ghosts behind.

Denver was the next stop on their trip, as they wanted to reconnect with Doug. On the first night, Leo took Doug aside and privately presented him with a new .30-06 rifle with the best scope he could find. Sylvia had moved in with him and they seemed happy. She was driving the sporty Mazda MX3. Doug had earned another promotion at work and finally seemed to be settling down.

Sacramento was their final stop. Florin had recuperated from his wounds. He had already endured two surgeries, but his agility and range of movement had been reduced in his left shoulder. Luckily, Vickey was a registered nurse and had given him wonderful care during his recuperation. Leo had twenty-eight stitch marks on his upper thigh and a nasty scar, but suffered no permanent damage. They compared war wounds and let the children meet each other. The two boys seemed very impressed with Florin’s four beautiful daughters. They all got to see the pride of Florin’s life, the new baby boy that had recently arrived.

Both John and Florin had turned state witnesses and had testified in hours and hours of court proceedings. Leo, Sarah, Joyce and Doug had also been called to appear. Governor Roberts resigned and Mayor Dickerson committed suicide. The President and Vice President announced that they would not seek re-election at the end of their term. Carl got off free regarding his involvement with the bombing in Namibia, as it had taken place in a foreign country and Florin’s testimony against him was only circumstantial. There was no proof of any involvement and Carl stood by his story that he had never gone to Swakopmund. Neither John nor Florin ever saw or heard from Carl after the proceedings.

While they were in Sacramento, Leo and Sarah found the perfect piece of property for Florin and Vickey. They presented it to them as a thank you for saving their lives. Florin had nearly given his to save Leo’s and had certainly risked himself to call Namibia in warning as well. They set up a trust fund for the education of Florin’s children, but did not tell them about it yet.

Joyce decided to retire and base her life out of Challis to help care for her aging mother. They had plans to do many things while her mother was still able to travel. Chris and Traykie spent a good deal of the summer with their grandma and great grandma in Challis.