Holding Their Own: A Story of Survival (27 page)

The
Hefei rose up and began walking around, talking to the remaining men. Bishop studied the man closely and figured he was a natural leader. In the distance, a horn started honking, and everyone tensed up. The guards moved in close around the Hefei, and the over watch shooters went on high alert. A pickup came into view on the road and was moving fast. The guards stopped it before it could even get close to the Hefei. A man was lying in the bed of the truck. Bishop could see that his leg was bleeding, and someone had applied a tourniquet. After some arm waving and heated conversation, the injured man was granted an audience with the Hefei.

Whoever he was, he must have had important informa
tion, because Bishop could see the Hefei listening intently. The leader waved over one of his guards, and a chair was pulled up for the injured fellow. Another guard rushed back with a map that was unfolded on the ground in front of them both. There was a lot of pointing at the map and various arm motions, while the Hefei seemed to pay particularly close attention. At one point, the Hefei’s head tilted slightly, almost quizzically. Immediately, the injured guest took the Hefei by the arm, steering him toward the corner of the hotel. When the newcomer reached out to touch the Hefei, Bishop thought the poor guy was a goner because all of the bodyguards raised their weapons immediately, but the Hefei settled them down.

Both men went to the corner of the hotel where the injured man pointed
at the interstate to an abandoned school bus. Bishop watched in horror as the injured man flipped his flattened hand in the motion of “on its side.” Bishop’s heart froze.
He is telling the Hefei about a school bus lying on its side.
Oh Jesus - Terri. The firefight he heard last night. This guy must have been shot in the fight and is telling the boss where it had happened.

Bishop expected t
he Hefei to sound the war drums and gather up the braves, but he didn’t. The biker king had finished his business and was ready to talk some more. His buddies were still nowhere to be seen. Bishop could just imagine the Hefei’s frustration as the half-drunk biker bragged about his manly accomplishments with the girl. Bishop was sure the Hefei wanted to go collect scalps, but the war party would have to wait as he couldn’t insult his guest. It was almost dark when the biker crew finally departed for their side of the bridge.

There was still enoug
h light for Bishop to make out the Hefei talking to two of his men. He looked to the west at the sun, and then made the motion of “to hell with it” and pointed to the east as if to say,
We will hit them at sunup
. 

Night Signs

The next few hours were the worst Bishop could ever remember. He was so worried about Terri he couldn’t think straight, and lying in a fixed position for almost the entire day was giving his body fits. He had been tempted to sneak down the ladder before it got completely dark. It had taken all of his willpower to stay put.

When
the light finally faded, Bishop began rushing to get back. He wasn’t paying attention while swinging over the rail to the ladder, and a piece of his gear caught on the edge. Two fingers, barely hanging on, saved him from falling to certain death. The rush he received from the close encounter with his demise served to sharpen his focus, and kept him from taking any more dangerous short cuts.

It took him almost an hour to get back to Nick’s house, and the closer he got, the more he dreaded bad news. He took a rock, whistled, and threw it on the roof of the house. That was the signal for “I’m coming in, and please don’t blow my head off.
” The rock had no more bounced off of the roof than Terri was running around the corner toward him. She almost knocked him over, jumping into his arms, kissing him over and over. He couldn’t stop smiling, so relieved to see her unharmed. She finally came up for air, and started talking so quickly he had trouble understanding.

“Oh my God
, Bishop, I’m so glad to see you. It was awful. Are you okay? They were everywhere. Did you see anything?”

It took Terri a bit to settle down. As t
hey walked around the corner, Bishop looked at Kevin and Nick and instantly knew something was very wrong. “We lost Grandpa,” was all they said.

Bishop replied, “I’m
so sorry. Look, I don’t want to be an ass, but we have to get out of here right now.”

Nick and Kevin both perked up and looked at him.

“They are coming. You shot one of them, but he made it back and reported to the boss. They will be here in force and hit us at sunrise. We have to get moving.”

Everyone immediately started scrambling around and loading the trucks. Nick’s truck did not have a lot of diesel fuel left, but it ran fine. The boat had been unhitched long ago. Boxes, supplies, and virtually anything they could find was retrieved and loaded into the truck beds.

Bishop estimated they had less than an hour left when they were finally ready to go. He could see Nick and Kevin talking, and went over to make sure everything was okay.

“We can’t find the keys.”

“What?”

“You heard me - we can’t find the keys to the truck.”

Another mad scramble ensued with everyone looking everywhere for the keys. Bishop was sitting in the truck, bending down with his head craned for a view under the seat when he sat up and thought,
No, it can’t be that simple
. He pulled down the visor, and the errant keys fell into his hands.

“Found them!”

Bishop had two monocles and couldn’t decide how to distribute them. He figured there was enough moonlight so that Nick could follow Terri and him without headlights and not rear-end them. Terri left the driveway and turned away from I-10, heading back the way they had come. Bishop was in his normal position in the sunroof, scanning. They removed the brake, reverse, and dome light fuses from Nick’s truck, so they could move without any lights giving away their position.

Bishop exhaled when they were a mile away
. When they were 10 miles from the house, the sun poked through the clouds to the east. They found a trail leading back to a wooded area and pulled in to regroup and rest.

Everyone was burning adrenaline, so they set camp quickly. Hammocks were hung,
tripwires set, and truck beds reorganized. They built a fire after Nick and Bishop scouted in all directions. Bishop savored that first taste of coffee. They ate a little breakfast, but Bishop was the only one really hungry. Terri made some oatmeal and dried beef. It wasn’t half-bad, given the conditions.

They agreed on a schedule for sleep and keeping watch. Bishop got to close his eyes first and was mad as hell when he woke up seven hours later
, Terri having taken his shift.

After stretching and
more coffee, Bishop told everyone about his day on the billboard, leaving out the part about the girls. He displayed his sketches and answered questions for over an hour.

Nick and Terri told Bishop about the firefight and how Grandpa had died. “He was a retired Marine and died with a
weapon in his hands,” was all Nick said. Kevin was very quiet, but responded quickly when Nick asked him to do something. Bishop was worried about the boy, and so was Terri. She hung around him constantly, always asking his help doing little chores, hoping it might take his mind off of things. He seemed not to mind.

When Kevin and Terri were out of earshot, Nick leaned over to Bishop and explained, “Terri shot the last one off of the top of Kevin.
Both the attacker and Kevin had empty guns, and the guy was getting ready to bury his knife in my son’s chest. Terri shot him seven times.”

Oh shit,
Bishop thought,
that’s her first time
.”

“She puked for
10 minutes, and then just sat watching the fire for hours. I tried to comfort her, but hell, I’m divorced and don’t understand women at all. Her coping with it right now is all an act. Keep an eye on her.”

“Damn this world.”

“Look partner, old war horses like us have enough trouble dealing with that shit. I remember the first time I was 100% sure I had killed a guy, I wanted to eat my own barrel and be done with it. The only thing that stopped me was the belief that my buddies needed me as much as I needed them. The other men in my platoon, the ones I had sweated, bled and suffered with, were depending on me. You need to make sure she understands you need her. End of marriage counseling session – I’ll send you my bill.”

Bishop thought it over for a bit. “I don’t know about women, but you don’t do so bad with people, Counselor.”

They sat quietly and poked sticks in the fire. Terri and Kevin were busily making something on one of the open truck gates, whispering the entire time. Bishop finally looked up and said, “Nick, we are going to start a war.”

Nick’s face didn
’t react at all. “Now
that
sounds like fun.”

Starting a war

High speed, low drag

There is a ritual involved when preparing to go into
harm’s way and any man who has ever readied himself for battle has experienced it. In reality, all of the equipment plays a dual role – it is essential for the fighter, as much as for the fighting. Regardless of a handmade bow with a quiver full of arrows, or an M4 rifle with a chest rig full of magazines, men who were about to go into combat have always taken some measure of comfort from their kit. The countless hours of training extrude a confidence with the tools of the trade. Sometimes, that confidence can be the difference between life and death.

In an odd sort of way, preparing for a fight was not much different than preparing to ride out a hurricane or survive an earthquake. Lists are made, equipment is secured, and everything is checked for readiness two or three times. While an approaching storm would require having enough food, an approaching gunfight requires enough ammunition. Items like medical kits, a good knife, water, batteries, and food are
essential in either situation.

Bishop was not as experienced as N
ick, who after many years in a wartime army, had “loaded up” many times. Despite the gap in their experience, both men knew their lives would depend on each other. Their mood was professional, quiet, and focused on helping one another. Straps were pulled so tight they caused pain. Pouches and bags were pulled, thumped, yanked and slapped. Nothing could make noise or fall off. After they had strapped on over 30 pounds of equipment each, they donned goggles and masks. When they were finished suiting up, they would have made a great recruiting poster for any Special Forces unit in the world.

Bishop looked over at Kevin, who was watching their every move. He kept thinking that if he messed up, he might be responsible for the boy’s father not making it back.
I wonder if Nick is looking at Terri and thinking the same thing.
Bishop knew he had done all right at the Brazos River, but this was going to be a much more complex operation. He had to work with another man, not alone. Another difference was that they would be moving quickly and executing a hit and run type of attack. At the river, he had remained stationary for most of the fight. Nick seemed to have sensed Bishop’s self-doubt. He grabbed Bishop’s shoulder and in a low voice said, “If you
don’t
have doubts, you are dangerous. It’s the guys who are cocky that fuck up. Let’s go kick some ass.”

Bishop and Nick were in full “Jedi Knight” mode as they approached I-10. Their route took them under the Endless Salad Bar sign
, and Bishop made a note to tell Nick about his pissing contest when they made it back. They crossed I-10, making their way to the biker’s side, and then headed for what Bishop thought was the biker’s headquarters. It really wasn’t that hard to find - they only had to follow the music. They approached a single story, block building that had once been a small pub.

The biker bunch has posted sentries at the expected places, but Nick was suspicious.
“They could not have held off the Hefei and his boys with this level of security. We have to be missing something.” Bishop agreed, and they took their time scanning and scouting the area. At one point, Bishop stopped and listened to the voices coming from the building. He heard the normal laughter and background voice noise you would expect when eavesdropping on a party. He almost laughed out loud when he heard a voice yell, just above the others, “The soldier told the major, you use the camel to ride into town, sir!” followed by a lot of laughter. Bishop knew that joke, and it was a pretty good one at that.

After an hour of searching, they couldn’t find a single
tripwire, hidden guard or even a stray mousetrap anywhere. Besides the four men with rifles at each corner of biker headquarters, they couldn’t locate any other security. Bishop whispered, “Peace dividend?”

“I don’t buy it. Remember that old saying - if it is going well you are walking into an ambush.”

“I just can’t see anything else.”

“We are not in a big rush here. Let’s look around one more time.”

They made another full circle of the building and found nothing. “I don’t get it, but we have to do this now. “

Their plan was to kill the guards, bust in the door
, and shoot the place up. Simple, effective, and no doubt, the biker army would blame the banger army, and war would be on. The biker hive had about 30 meters of open space they would have to cross. Each corner guard was within the line of sight of two others. The problem for the guards was they could only be looking one direction at a time. The problem for Nick and Bishop was they could not be sure which direction the guard was looking. It there had been any reasonable light, it wouldn’t have been difficult, but there were only shadows from what looked to be a few candles inside of the building, and all of the curtains were closed.

Nick looked at Bishop and whispered, “Ready?”

Bishop looked around a few more seconds and started to reply when he heard, “The soldier told the major, you use the camel to ride into town, sir!” with the same voice and the same laughter following it.

“Hold!”

Nick gave Bishop a questioning look, and Bishop waved him back. They retreated about 50 meters away from the building, and Bishop explained what he had heard.

Nick
shook his head, “Well those clever bastards. Who would have thought they were that smart? A decoy building as a diversion, complete with repeating sound track - how cute.”

“Don’t go getting all high and mighty, we almost fell for it.”

“Good point.”

Knowing there was a decoy changed what they were looking for, and it did not take them long to find the
real
biker headquarters. What gave it away was the smell of urine, as most of the boys just went out back and relieved themselves. They had originally bypassed the building because it looked unoccupied. Boards covered broken glass in the windows and a quick glance indicated black, hollow windows with collapsed timbers hanging inside. When they encountered the heavy odor of urine, they studied the building carefully and realized it was all a façade. The windows were covered with paintings of a collapsed interior. The broken glass was painted on as well. It was not five minutes before a light suddenly appeared out back when a door opened and closed quickly. One of the bikers was delivering a bag of sandwiches to the guards over at the decoy.

Bishop watched as the man walked
toward the decoy structure and noted the guy stopped some distance away from the guards. The sandwich delivery boy whistled, and then threw the bag over 20 feet to the nearest sentry. Bishop thought it odd the guy didn’t just walk up and hand over the meal.
Why was he being so careful about approaching that building?

Once they had confirm
ed they had the correct hideout, finding the real security should have been easy. They found the first two quick enough, and thought they had the entire layout in their minds, but Nick stopped them again. “This just is not right. They wouldn’t leave one entire side of their main quarters exposed like that. We are missing something.”

“I agree. Let’s take another look.”

The unguarded side of the biker nest faced a slight slope. There were two overflowing dumpsters about 50 meters away, a small strand of trees just beyond the dumpsters, and then a pile of wooden pallets at 110 meters. Bishop scanned all three of the possible hiding places and saw nothing. They split up and approached the dumpsters from the rear on opposite sides. Despite the stench, they peeked around the dumpsters and found nothing but rotting trash. The strand of trees was next, and it proved empty as well. They spread out again and approached the stack of pallets from the rear. They got as close as they could without any potential sentry hearing them and visually searched every bit of the random scraps of wood. They looked at each other with questioning eyes. They were about to move off again, when Nick snapped his fist up in a motion that meant “Hold.”

Bishop froze, watching Nick, who handed Bishop his rifle and pulled out his knife. He started crawling on his belly
toward a pallet that was lying slightly off from the pile. Bishop could tell where he was going and wanted to be ready to help, but there was nothing there except a pallet lying on the dirt.
Dirt? Why was there dirt? There was grass everywhere else.
Bishop watched as ever so slowly, Nick approached the pallet. When he was almost on top of it, he reached out to the dirt and pushed down with his fingers. They sank easily into the soft soil. Nick moved his hand six inches and gently probed again. His fingers sank into the dirt as easily as if he were dipping them in water. He turned and looked at Bishop and spun his finger in the air.
Is there anyone around?
Bishop did a complete 360-degree check with the NVD and saw no one. He looked back at Nick and gave him the thumbs up.

In almost one movement, Nick pulled back a piece of cardboard, lightly covered in dirt, and struck downwards with his knife, one,
two, three stabs in a flash. He rolled off and caught his breath. Bishop kept watching the area with his NVD, waiting for any reaction. None came.

The sentry was in a shallow trench covered to look like the surrounding ground. Often
referred to as a spider hole, a man would lie in the trough, keeping watch through a narrow opening. Using a spider hole had it advantages, as a well-constructed hide was almost impossible to detect. It also had its disadvantages in that the man in the hole had very limited peripheral vision. Nick had just demonstrated the results of what could happen if the hide were discovered.

While Nick caught his breath, Bishop grabbed the dead guy by the boots and dragged him behind the main stack of the pallets. Nick repaired the spider hole so it would appear as before, and then joined Bishop.

Bishop looked up and shook his head. He whispered, “No jacket on this one. No colors. Damn glad you saw him though. If he had any skill with that rifle, we would have been easy meat when we hit that building.”

Nick held up the rifle he had pulled from the hole. It was a military style bolt-action sniper rifle with a pretty good scope. They searched the body, and Nick pocketed about 20 rounds of .308. Nick pulled up the guy’s sleeve during the search and tapped Bishop on the shoulder. Bishop looked down and saw a tattoo on the dead man’s arm that said, “1S1K.” One Shot One Kill was the motto of military snipers.
We were very, very lucky.

Bishop moved off toward the next sentry, who was lying on the roof of a small outbuilding. Bishop
had detected him because the guard kept moving. In the three minutes Bishop had observed him, the guy had scratched his head at least four times. Most sentries, when taking cover on a roof, are concerned about someone coming up behind them. It is very common to set up a tripwire to avoid being surprised from behind. As Bishop went to the ladder leaning on the side of the building, he looked it over very carefully. When he saw the tripwire, he almost laughed. On the fourth rung from the top, there was a piece of string which was tied to a beer can, no doubt full of rocks. Bishop would have found that one even without the NVD.

He slowly climbed the ladder, shifting his weight on each step very carefully. When he got to the top, he stood on his toes and peeked over. He really couldn’t see anything, so he raised the NVD and took another look. He saw a man, lying on his side, not moving at all. Scattered all over the roof were beer cans. The man made a noise
, and Bishop ducked down. He heard the same noise again. The guy was snoring.

Bishop now had both a moral problem and a technical problem. The technical problem was the beer cans all over the roof would make it very difficult to approach the man without making noise. The moral problem was in killing a drunken, sleeping man.
No wonder the guy had been scratching, he was lying in a pool of beer.

Bishop knew that despite what people watched on TV, knocking a man unconscious was very difficult. There were only a few areas of the skull where a blow would do that, and most of those caused permanent damage. Bishop did not know where or how hard to hit a man to knock him out – just something he had ever learned.

Another myth was that you could cover someone’s mouth, and he would not be able to make noise. In a training class at HBR, an instructor had asked the students to cover their mouths and then try to make noise. While the yelling was not as loud, it sure wasn’t quiet by any means. Bishop decided to let Rip Van Winkle have his beauty rest, but would disable him from causing any problem.

Bishop climbed up onto the roof, and carefully plotted his path to the sleeping biker. He slowly reached down, picked up each beer can, and set them upright so they would not roll around a
nd make noise. It took him 3 minutes to make the 12 feet to the guard.
At least the cans are stacked neatly now.
Beside the now loudly snoring man was an AR15 rifle. Bishop could take the magazine out, but the old drunk might have more ammunition on him. Instead, he picked up the rifle and pushed out the hinge pin. With the entire inner workings exposed, he pulled the charging handle back and then removed the bolt carrier group. He pulled the retaining pin, and the firing pin dropped into his hand. He put it in his pocket, and reassembled the rifle in less than 10 seconds.
That will drive him crazy trying to get that weapon to fire.