Sons (Book 2) (43 page)

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Authors: Scott V. Duff

BOOK: Sons (Book 2)
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“’Credit’ is not the word being used but, effectively, yes,” Messner said.

“Colonel, are there any plans in place to take care of these problems?” Peter asked.

“Yes, sir, but those plans fell through when we were unable to detect which facility these men came from,” Echols explained.  “We were expecting to pull excess stores from there as well as use onsite vehicles.  The nature of this encampment is bizarre.  It’s as if whoever brought them here didn’t expect them to get out.”

“They didn’t, Colonel,” Peter said, tilting his head slightly to the side, confused.  “Every man out there was supposed to be dead now, either by our hand or the blood mage’s.  It was only because of Seth that they’re alive.  What time is it?”

“Four ten,” Calhoun said.

“Do you have any good news, Colonel?” Peter asked.

“Peter doing okay?” Ethan asked me, slipping in beside me for the view.

“He’s doing fine,” I answered.  “It’s everybody else that’s screwing up.  He’s gonna need help in a coupla minutes and considering the time frame we’re working with, it might be all of us.”

“What are we working on?” he asked quietly, watching Peter make Echols squirm about food again, specifically how to cook it.  Propane levels where down excessively low.

“Basics: food, shelter and sanitation.  Pentagon and law enforcement aren’t coming through like they should,” I said.  “And we can’t leave ‘em out there to starve.”

“Damn, he’s an idiot,” mumbled Ethan.  Turning back to the room and raising his voice, he said, “Okay, guys, looks like we’re going to Alabama before dinner.”

“So basically what you’re telling me, Colonel,” Peter said with severe aggravation, “is that all you and your men have managed to accomplish is to add another eighty-five mouths to feed to an already starving group of men?”

“Well, no…” Echols stammered.

“Eighty, two flew out with the three injured this morning,” Messner corrected.

“What would you have done if we hadn’t come back?” Peter asked, looking to each man in turn.  “We were an hour away from leaving, totally unavailable until sometime next week, and as it is, it’s going to be nearly impossible to do anything about this.  I am so
fucking
glad I’m Canadian!”

“Don’t!” Messner and Calhoun shouted simultaneously at Echols, the outrage of patriotism clear on his face.  He backed down, having been beaten down too many times today.

“He ready for us yet?” Kieran asked.  Looking up, I jumped a little, suddenly encircled by everyone.

“Not quite yet,” I said.  “He’s still spanking them for not getting anywhere, but I think it’s more like he’s stalling to figure out what he needs to do.”

“All right, Seth, send ‘em in,” Peter said as if hearing me.  “I need all the help I can get.”

“That’s our cue,” I said to Kieran and opened the portal.  I glared at Echols as I led the line through the tent to outside, waiting by the tentflap until I could close the portal again.  Echols stared into New York in awe the entire time we traipsed through and frankly it irked me.  Kieran and Dad stayed with Peter, so I left them to plan out what they wanted to do.

Once outside, it was apparent that knowledge of the situation was pretty widespread.  Echols’ men were spread out around the perimeter of the field and the prisoners were more tightly cordoned.  Pressing out past my current visibility showed pretty much the same thing: eighty armed men in shifts trying to guard over four hundred unarmed men.  If it came to an actual fight, the armed didn’t stand a chance for survival.  Barely a chance for containment.

Spotting Major Byrnes in the crowd, I waved him over.  Three other men surged forward with him but wavered after a step, suddenly nervous about approaching uncalled.  I waved them forward, too, fairly certain they’d be useful.

Even before Byrnes stopped jogging, I asked, “Major, do you have any accountants among your men?”

He wasn’t expecting that sort of a question and it confused him for a moment.  “Um, no, sir, but I believe we have a couple of bookkeepers.”

I nodded.  “That’ll be a good enough start.  I’m jumping the gun a little here since my Dad and two of my brothers are in there setting up plans to get y’all taken care of for the week, but I don’t have much faith in Echols’ planning capabilities.  Apparently, Washington was planning on putting y’all on a three day diet of water and septic conditions.”  The look of disgust on Byrnes’ face was epic.

“Pretty much how I felt about it,” I agreed.  “We are extremely pressed for time, though.  We need to get this fixed under three hours, so we’re going to use you and your men.  But…” I paused for emphasis.  “I want one pissy thing to happen after we’re gone and until we come back.  I want an accounting of everything—and I mean,
everything
!—that any of the Marshals, FBI agents, or Echols’ men eat, use, or even look at that costs me money.  Keep track of everything because I’m gonna try to get my money back regardless, but I’m not going to cry about it if I don’t.  I’m definitely gettin’ it back for them if I have to take it out of their hides.”

Byrnes smiled at that, then looked over the crowd of rubber-neckers.  He shouted a name and waved him over.

“You might as well grab some runners anyway,” I said.  “We may be at this for a while.”

“Yes, sir,” Byrnes said, reaching back blindly and lightly hitting one of the three.  That man jogged back and started calling out names while Byrnes called out orders to his man.  I felt an odd sensation rush through the camp as the anxiety level began to fall yet attention and calm began to rise.  It was an interesting change to watch and fascinating that it could happen so quickly.

“All right, Major,” I said once he’d returned.  “I’ve heard their assessment.  What’s yours on the largest problem right now?”

“Food, we have barely enough to get us through evening mess and that’s stretchin’ it,” he said.

“It’s roughly four thirty now.  When do you serve supper?” I asked.

“Now,” he said.

“You ain’t
that
good,” Ethan said quietly beside me.

“No,” I responded, chuckling.  “Any chance you have a list of what you’ll need?”  He started to answer, then thought a little harder about it, then shook his head.  Turning to Richard, I asked, “You want the food details?”

“I think I can handle that,” Richard said, nodding.  “How long should we plan?  Wednesday morning?”

“If the Pentagon doesn’t come through by then, we’ll be unavailable,” warned Ethan.  “Thursday morning would be better, maybe even Friday midafternoon.”

“Can you lie to Calhoun and Messner?” I asked Richard.

“Those pups?  Seth, please,” he answered, flicking imaginary dirt off his sleeve.

I grinned at him.  “Then plan through Friday morning but tell them we only bought enough for Wednesday morning.  Give ‘em a day.  Major Byrnes, get your head cooks together and draw up menus so that shopping lists can be made.  Please remember that time is of the essence here, but be as complete as possible.  There’s no running to the convenience store and we’ll likely be clearing some shelves.”

“The man is an idiot!” I heard Peter shout as he stomped out of the tent behind us.

“Go on, guys,” I said, chuckling.  “I’ll let ya know if something’s changed.”  Watching Peter storm up to us, I asked, “What’s he want to do now, take ‘em to a car wash and hose ‘em down with a high pressure wash?”

“How’dya know that?” he asked, positively shocked.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I gawked.

“Yeah, and you fell for it,” Peter said, bursting into a grin, his eyes glinting in the setting sun.  Ethan lost it, falling on his butt on the ground he was laughing so hard.  He better not try to say he hadn’t fallen for it, too; I knew better.  I could hear Richard’s laugh not far away, as well.

“Y’all all through in there?” I asked, knowing better since Dad and Kieran were still in there.

“I am, but there are still issues to contend with,” Peter answered.  “This is just another Harris-type case.  Your dad, though, has a different style…”  He cut me a sideways glance when he said that.

“What does that mean?” I asked, laughing through every word.

“With you, he was afraid for his life,” Peter said, acting as though he thought hard about his analogy.  “With me, he was afraid I’d throw him to you.  With your dad… I don’t think his balls will ever stop retracting.”

I had no idea
what
to make of that, but Major Byrnes and his men thought those were the most hilarious words ever spoken and they swept through the entire camp within minutes.  Four minutes, thirty-two seconds to be exact.  Within that time frame, every man and woman was laughing or heaving to get past it.  Talk about a tension-breaker, all hail King Peter!  It was so infectious that I was laughing and still didn’t understand why.  When I looked back at the command tent, the five of them were standing outside and staring at everyone, wondering what was happening.  Dad was questing outward, searching for the magic at work, but Kieran was silent on that front.  They headed towards us.

“Ahhgh, I was hoping to get a little further…” I grumbled.  “What did y’all decide?”

Dad took the lead.  “Food’s the first priority, obviously.”

“Okay,” I interrupted.  “Messner, First, get together and start making calls.  There’s at least one wholesaler in town.  Pay ‘em to stay open if you have to but we’ll hit them first.  Then we’ll probably have to hit every grocery store in town for meat and produce.  We’ll need enough to get through to Wednesday morning.  Then they’re the government’s problem.  Well, maybe.”  Jimmy was here for the Wednesday-Friday discussion, so I wasn’t worried about that little fabrication.  “Tell ‘em anything you want, so long as we get food.  Richard’s with the mess staff getting an idea of what they’ll need.

“Okay, next?” I asked Dad.  He was surprised that I had a handle on this and that people were moving on my orders.  I gave him a wry smile.

“Potable water would be the next concern,” Dad said.

Byrnes nodded in agreement when I glanced back at him.  “I’m a little confused by this one.  The sanitation aspect I get, but the water lines should be enough for drinking, unless… Major, have you guys tapped into the pipes before or after the cave?”

“We’ll have to check,” he answered.  “We didn’t know about any taps into the cave system.”

“The Yaeger’s did it themselves so it’s probably leaking like a sieve,” I said looking up at the darkening sky.  “You probably won’t be able to find it until light tomorrow anyway.  But, no matter what, you are
not
to enter the caves.  I cannot stress that enough.  Do not go into the caves.  Got it?”

“Yes, sir, do not enter the caves,” Byrnes repeated.

“So, three days of water.  How much is that for four hundred people?” I asked anybody who could answer.  Nobody could.  “Mike, get Darius Fuller on the phone, please.  While we’re waiting on that, what’s the next problem?”

“Three and four are related,” Dad said.  “Sanitation and infestation.”

“They’ve overrun the bushes and now the bushes are overrunning them?” I asked.

Dad chuckled and nodded.

I went on, “And problem five is probably fuel for cooking and heating water.”  Dad nodded again, only mildly surprised this time.  “There was a propane tank at the Morgan’s house.  We could steal that.”

“Yes, I believe we could,” Kieran said, taking a liking to the idea.  “What about the Walker house?”

“I don’t remember,” I said.  “Pete, you remember where it is?”

“Not well enough for a hole,” he said.  “I could drive there, though.”

“Major, can you even use propane?” I asked.

“Yes, sir, it’s compatible to what we’re using now,” he answered.

“You want that?” I asked Kieran

“Yeah, be back in a minute,” he said, vanishing.

“Calhoun, start looking up numbers in case that doesn’t pan out, please,” I hollered.  “Major, if we can get fuel, do you have a way to heat water?”

“In small and limited ways,” he said.

“Any civil engineers or, God forbid, plumbers among your men?”

“Several of both, actually,” he said and turned to his first runner, issuing orders for men and pointing to a space for them to gather.  I turned and found David eager and waiting.

“You’re up, then,” I said with a smile.  “We’re gonna have to get some propane water heaters of some kind and rig up some plumbing for showers.  Ask them if they can think of anything else they’ll need and remember we’re on a clock.”  He took off excitedly for the spot Major Byrnes indicated.  “For the pest control, as much as I don’t like the idea, we can add pesticides to the supplies list.  That will be a small and immediate help.”

I heard Mike arguing with someone on the phone, which bothered me because that should have been a simple conversation.  “What’s next?”

“Medical supplies,” Dad said.

“Oh, for the love of Pete,” I muttered, then yelled, “Echols!”

“Yes, sir!” he called and pushed meekly past Steven and Calhoun.

“You had better arrange for three doctors, ten nurses and a damned truckload of medical supplies by morning or I’m turning the Pentagon back into a God-damned swamp!”

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