Holding Their Own XI: Hearts and Minds (15 page)

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Authors: Joe Nobody

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Dystopian, #Action & Adventure, #Literature & Fiction

BOOK: Holding Their Own XI: Hearts and Minds
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“Those blowhards are full of shit,” she barked. “This place has been in our family for a hundred years before you were born. Now get out, mister, before there’s trouble you can’t handle.”

On cue, one of the ranch hands made a show of moving a hand toward his holstered sidearm. Grim countered, stepping from around a truck and holding out a hand grenade for all to see. The contractor made a show of tossing the safety pin over his shoulder.

“Go ahead, fill your hand with that blaster, sonny,” Grim challenged. “Then we’ll all play a little game of hot potato with this fragmentation device.”

Kathy Baxter wasn’t as impressed as her riders. “Who the hell are you people?” she snapped, trying to keep her now-jittery mount under control.

They’re scared
, Bishop thought.
The animals can sense their masters’ fear. Good
.

Back to her question, Bishop found himself lacking an answer. He hadn’t thought of that.

“My name is Clint,” he finally replied with a shit-eating grin. “Clint Wayne. My friend over there is John Eastwood.”

She didn’t get it for a second, finding no humor in Bishop’s response once the names did register. One of the cowhands did, however, grunting and pointing toward Butter. “And I suppose he’s Chuck Norris?”

“Nope,” Bishop smirked. “His name is Yul Fonda. Now, why don’t you nice folks act a bit more neighborly and ride on out of here? My friends and I just left the service of the U.S. Army and have been driving all over hell’s half acre looking for a place to hang our hats. We don't want any trouble, but if it comes to a fight, we’ll hold our ground.”

“This isn’t over,” Mrs. Baxter spat, turning her horse and spurring the beast. Her men followed.

Butter and Grim soon joined their boss, the trio watching the riders fade into the distance. “That went pretty well,” Grim offered.

“Mister Bishop, sir, I’ve got a question,” Butter said, his voice colored by bewilderment. “Who is Yul Fonda?”

Despite the late hour, the courthouse in Alpha was buzzing with activity. The Alliance was preparing the public launch of its property ownership solution, and that was taxing everyone.

Posters, public notices, manuals, printed rules, and guidelines were all part of the campaign. The same activities were underway in Austin, Houston, and Dallas.

From there, hundreds of government representatives and volunteers would spread out across Texas, traveling to small towns, ranches, farms, and all points in between. Most smaller communities had established some sort of building or central location for a bulletin board. Often this was in the old post office. The new laws were typically posted there.

As she worked on sorting several large stacks of copies, Terri couldn’t help but wonder about the wisdom of such an ambitious effort being undertaken before communications had been established throughout the territories. The north side of Dallas now had cell service, at least part time. All of the major population centers had at least eight hours of daily AM radio broadcasts.

Television was still out of the question, the huge transmitters and home receivers requiring too much of the limited electrical energy that was badly needed elsewhere.

The internet was months, if not years, away. Despite the commonly made claim that the worldwide web had been built to withstand nuclear war, the absence of spare computer parts, knowledgeable personnel, and neighborhood-level communications equipment was a challenge that even the most optimistic engineer thought would take a significant period of time.

So that left the printed word as the primary method of communications throughout the land.

Paper was already in short supply, ink nearly as expensive as gold. In the early days, the Alliance had burned through ink cartridges at an amazing rate, trying to get information out to the people.

Now, most publications were being run with old fashion mimeograph machines, many salvaged from the storage closets of schools and churches. The formulation of homemade ink was a cottage industry in many parts of the territory.

Terri had just finished sorting her assigned stack when she sensed a presence behind her. It was Chase.

“Hello, there,” he smiled. “This is an amazing thing to watch,” he continued, indicating the bustling courthouse with wide arms. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“We’re lucky to have such dedicated people who believe in the Alliance,” she replied. “Heck, most of the folks you see here today are volunteers.”

He continued into the small room, taking up a position where he could make eye contact as Terri returned to her work. “I want to thank you for accepting Diana’s offer to be my office’s liaison. While we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, I still believe we can work well together.”

Terri glanced up quickly, flashing a short smile before returning her attention to the table full of papers. “Well, of course, we can. We are both professionals, aren’t we?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Chase replied. “I just wasn’t sure how much of a problem that night had caused you at home.”

She waved off the concern. “Bishop and I are just peachy keen. We had a great week together until he got called away today. There’s no problem in my house.”

“Good. That’s so good to hear. The last thing I want to do is cause you any difficulties.”

Terri smirked, “Given what we’ve been through together… what with the collapse and all? It would take a whole lot more than a simple misunderstanding to come between us.”

“I always wonder how my wife and I would have weathered the storm. On one hand, I think it would have pulled us closer – strengthened the relationship. Other times, I don’t know if we would have survived it… how anyone does really.”

“Bishop and I learned the true meaning of trust throughout the entire ordeal. It definitely made us stronger, both as individuals and as a team. If I had told my co-workers at the bank in Houston that one day I’d been representing a new government that controlled Texas, they would have laughed me out of the building.”

Chase thought about the comparison for a moment before speaking. “I wouldn’t have laughed. I always knew you were going to be fantastically successful one day. I thought it would be international finance, corporate investment banking, or something along those lines. I knew back at A&M that there was a greatness inside of you… some inner strength or destiny that would surface one day. It’s always been there.”

“Why thank you, kind sir,” Terri fluttered. “I appreciate those words.”

A volunteer came in just then, looking around the room, desperately searching for something. “Have you seen any staples around? We can’t find any, and I’m afraid we might have just used the last batch in all of Texas.”

Terri hustled around a counter and rummaged in the contents on the marble top. She lifted a box of paper, and underneath was a box of the little connectors. The nearly panicked lady exclaimed, “Thank, God!” and rushed out the door.

Chase chuckled, “Now wouldn’t that suck. All this work, all these man-hours getting ready and preparing, and the entire project is halted due to a lack of staples.”

Shrugging, Terri replied, “We would have found a work around or another supply. What choice do we have?”

“But where is the staple factory? What condition is it in? Is anyone left alive that knows how to operate the machinery? For both the Alliance and my government, those are the challenges we face. It’s probably going to take years before the small things stop hindering the big things.”

Terri nodded, “That about sums it up. I’m sure both of our governments are battling the same issues every day. But again, what choice do we have? We have to plow through and do the best we can.”

“Do you ever consider what will happen when there are choices?”

Pausing, Terri looked up with a puzzled expression. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean?”

Chase hesitated and then changed his mind. “I was just thinking out loud, it wasn’t important or pertinent.” The deft conversationalist quickly changed the subject, leaving only the slightest of questions regarding his previous inquiry. “So, your husband is off to the north I hear, trying to settle some land dispute?”

“Yup. That’s my Bishop, always galloping off to save the day.”

Grunting, Chase responded, “And yet your big hero keeps his family in a camper. Doesn’t seem fair.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Terri fired back.

“I’m just saying it seems like the Alliance doesn’t appreciate you, that’s all. From everything I’ve heard, Bishop and you have gone well above and beyond the call of duty. If anyone had done the same for Washington, they would have been greatly rewarded.”

“Bishop and I do what we can because we believe in the Alliance and want to serve, not because we are looking for compensation or glory. We’re just trying to make life better for our friends and neighbors and help build a place where our children will have a future.”

The ambassador seemed to accept her response, at least enough to move on. “But the sacrifices you’ve made… continue to make…. Does it trouble you greatly when he’s away? Surely it must worry you sick?”

Terri chose her words carefully, not liking where the conversation was going. “Of course it causes me to lose a little sleep now and then. Who wouldn’t? This mission’s not so bad, though. There are two families threating to fight over a parcel of land. Bishop and his team are going to keep them separated until the Alliance gets this new plan in place. This trip doesn’t sound nearly as dangerous as some he’s been on. As a matter of fact, this trip sounded fascinating from a governing perspective. I would have liked to go with him.”

“You wanted to go because it fascinated you? Hmmmm…. Now, that does beg the question, doesn’t it? In what way was it so intriguing?”

Terri proceeded to tell Chase about the history of the dispute north of Fort Davidson, filling in the ambassador on not only the details but her take on the social aspects and how something so small as a tiny portion of land could lead to much bigger problems. “That’s why I wanted to go, but I just got back home after being away for weeks, and with this new program getting ready to launch, I decided to stay here and help out.”

“I heard you’ve faced your fair share of danger on some of these adventures. Diana was telling me about a few of them. You should write a book someday.”

Terri rolled her eyes, “That would certainly be a lengthy work. Heck, maybe a whole series of books.”

 

Bishop watched Grim’s shape move through the darkness, a spool of fishing line spinning quickly as the contractor backed from the former barn to the house.

“That’s the last one,” Grim announced, arching his back and stretching stiff muscles. “Nobody is getting close to the place without our knowing about it.”

“And the flash bombs?” Bishop asked, bending to help his man tighten the tripwire.

“All set. If anybody ventures close enough, they might get their eyebrows singed, but no one should be seriously hurt. Do you really think they’ll be coming in tonight?”

“Yup. I would if I were Mrs. Baxter. She’s smart enough to know that the longer she waits, the more we’ll dig in, and ultimately the harder we’ll be to dislodge. They’ll be here. Until then, why don’t you make sure the shotguns are loaded and ready? I’ll take the first watch.”

Grim’s sleeve wiped the perspiration from his forehead as he took one last look around. Bishop knew something was bothering his teammate. “Smoke bombs, flash bang grenades, shotguns loaded with sandbags… I’m feeling a little exposed here, boss. If those guys do come in tonight, they’ll have real rifles and pistols expelling high-velocity lead. We might as well be throwing spitballs back.”

“We’ll have our carbines close if things get out of hand. Remember, we’re here to keep people from killing each other. It would be kind of pointless if we ended up planting more bodies than they could slay on their own.”

Grim still didn’t like it. “This reminds me of Iraq during the insurgency. We could only fire if fired upon. That was a little too late in my book. We lost some good men with that bullshit policy. Hell, even cops can draw and fire if they feel threatened.”

“Nobody said this was going to be easy, partner. Such is life for those of us incapable of making a living any other way.”

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