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Chapter 38 -Belt Fed Revolution

I ran to the improvised front gate falling in beside the  guard  kneeling there as he returned fire into the growing dusk.  “Corporal! Sit-rep!” I asked as I knelt next to him and leveled my rifle out toward a group of vehicles at the farthest edge of the Wal-Mart parking lot.

“Not sure, sir.  Guard duty was ’bout the same as every night  then Stevens just goes down. Looked like  he was shot the throat…” I didn’t need to ask who Stevens was. I could see the bodies outside the gate already bled out. I eased myself between the Corporal and the wall and raised my rifle, resting the forward part of the stock on my left arm using the scope to scan the vehicles.  It was only about 150 yards away, but I couldn’t see faces only  feet and the top of an occasional head.

I continued scanning for a few moments seeing occasional muzzle flashes from under the vehicles and hearing the reports of rifles with no idea where the rounds were landing. Even though I didn’t have a great shot to take, I did have a .300 Winchester Magnum and that made up for a good deal  of the cover my targets were hiding behind at such a relatively close range. I was watching the furtive movements behind the vehicles when the Norns stepped up and began snipping threads.

The first kill was pure luck. I happened to be looking at one of the trucks as one of our unidentified OpFor ran between vehicles, leaving his head exposed for a second as he passed by the truck’s sliding rear window.  I almost missed the shot but just then time  slowed to a crawl. As soon as I saw the bill of the man’s ball cap enter the opening I squeezed the trigger and the man disappeared from sight.At the moment I couldn’t actually say I had hit the man, only that I had fired and seen him drop.

My next opportunity came when I saw a head using cover poorly. The top of another ball cap peaked out just behind a mirror of a big truck, the kind used for hauling horses. I squeezed the trigger gently and smiled a bit when I saw the hole appear in the mirror and the hat get ripped from the head it had been on.

Within moments the entirety of the camp had turned out and began taking up positions around and on top of the Wal-Mart building. The people on top of the building allowed us to set up almost in an enfilade-defilade position.

Without a word from anyone firing began en masse. If I had to guess I’d say this was just random shooting as I wasn’t seeing a lot of enemy bodies dropping given the amount of lead we were sending downrange.

The OpFor group was larger than I’d guessed .Their reinforcements began to move up on foot in small groups from the road that lead to the Wal-Mart.  I knelt back down and began to pick them off as quickly as I could. I wasn’t exactly Gunny Hathcock out here, but I was dropping people as fast as I could work the bolt.

I dropped the expended magazine and yelled “Reloading!” though I’m not sure to who. Everyone was busy dishing out their own personal size servings of whoop-ass just then. I slammed a fresh magazine up into the mag well and gave it a tap just to be sure but for some reason it wouldn’t seat. I pulled the magazine out and gave it a quick shake and a tap against my leg trying to get the rounds to settle into the magazine then realized I must have shot up every round of  the .300 Win Mag I had. The rest of it was back at the Jeep in bag I hadn’t been able to take with me because of my knee. The magazine I held in my hand was filled with .338 Lapua which was mostly useless to me just now.

I cursed and shoved the magazine into my pocket. I pulled out the BFR thinking at least I could shoot fairly accurate from kneeling. I had a target lined up and fired. The shot came nowhere near the target I had selected.I took aim again thinking I might be able to walk a shot in. I took a second to slow my breathing and make sure adrenaline wasn’t giving me a case of the shakes.

I focused on one truck I noticed sitting at the far edge of the parking lot. The truck looked familiar for some reason. It was the same truck I’d shot through the mirror to get at the tango that had been hiding there. I gave the truck a long look and was pretty sure I was looking at a black Ford F-450 with most of the front end torn off.

****

“Cease fire! Cease fire!” I stuck the BFR back in my belt as I walked up and down the row of soldiers and armed civilians nearest me calling out “Cease firing!” until eventually the word started spreading down the line and the rate of outgoing ordnance dropped to a crawl.

“Get someone up to the roof and tell them to stop shooting!” I  grabbed a civilian near me and yelled an order I didn’t know if he was capable of carrying out, but I didn’t have time to do any hand holding. I started calling out for Starke who was a bit further down the line than I had walked.

Starke was taking the cease-fire call as an opportunity to deal with the M-16 he was carrying which had double fed on him in the midst of the fight. “Starke! I need you to go get everyone to stand down.”

Starke finally cleared the malfunction in his weapon before he agreed. “Sure thing. What’s going on?”

I winced slightly “I think I might have just shit the bed here. Just try and get everyone calmed down.”

Starke gave me a shrug and headed off to make sure everyone had the order. I began looking around for towel or t-shirt or anything large enough to serve as a white flag. I finally found a civilian who was wearing a dingy, sweat stained A-frame shirt and told him to surrender it or risk getting shot by the OpFor, or if they couldn’t be arsed, I’d find someone on this side to do it.

The man looked more than a little perplexed, but took off his shirt and handed it to me. I made a quick search for a broom or something I could use to  keep the soiled garment away from my face. It’d be cool if I could use it as a flag pole too,  but fire from the PLM was picking up speed and I had to give up the search.

With no firing coming from our side I walked back to the gate and stuck the shirt out giving it a wave. Firing from the other side must have hit a lull about then and I took it as a sign that my decision to sue for peace had been accepted.

I stepped out and waved the flag over my head and felt a weird tugging sensation in my abdomen. Awesome. I survive the firefight unharmed only to pull a muscle during the surrender.

I continued walking forward for a bit, waving the t-shirt over my head while hearing the occasional shot being let off. I was about a quarter of the way to the PLM’s improvised cover when I heard someone from their side yell out “Cease Fire!” I saw heads poke out over the hoods of cars. One of those heads belonged to General Leader and it began moving toward me.

He walked at a brisk pace. I was glad because I suddenly felt very tired. The muscle I had pulled felt like it was on fire. I put my hand on my abdomen to apply some pressure to the muscle and felt a warm, sticky substance there. My hand came away bloody and breathing suddenly seemed like chore.

I staggered a few steps  as I tried to turn around before I fell to my knees.

****

I was surrounded pretty quickly by people from both sides. There was a tense stand-off going on out in the middle ground. Starke rushed out  and began hauling me backward by the sleeve of my BDU shirt. Others from the MVDF camp were trying to help him while maintaining a defensive stance with the PLM.

“Starke!” I thought I yelled but apparently my voice wasn’t all that loud. “STARKE?!” I tried again this time grabbing his wrist with my free hand.

He wasn’t listening, instead focused on dragging me back to the camp. I had a brief surge, from adrenaline or some other substance I didn’t know. I  managed to turn  to the point where  Starke had to drag me almost face first. I manage to get to my knees and fully grab his wrist. He finally stopped pulling for a second.

“They’re not enemies . . . ” Starke must have thought I was in shock as he started trying to drag me back once more.  “Adam! Damn it!” Starke stopped again.

“What the fuck? What? What’s so important? You’re shot in the gut here how about you just hold off on the long meaningful conversation until you get patched up?!”

I ignored him and pointed to General Leader. “He’s the head of the PLM . . . not an enemy.” Fuck, why was it so hard to talk? The words coming out of me felt like cement blocks being mixed in my mouth and turning solid as I spoke. I suddenly felt weak, weaker than I could ever recall and was overwhelmed by nausea.

I noticed now there were bodies all over inside the camp. People were running around tending to the wounded. It was a scene of pure chaos, but I had to get through to Starke. “Truce . . . declare a truce. Go meet with them. . .”

“Yeah, fine! I’ll give him the fuckin’ keys to the city if you’ll just shut up and let me get you taken care of!”

I relented and things got really fuzzy. I heard Starke say “asshole” but if it was directed toward me I couldn’t tell.  I couldn’t tell much of anything except that I seemed to be floating, no longer being dragged, but facing down, looking at the pavement moving below me as I floated along.

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Chapter 37 -Belt Fed Revolution

Upon reaching the camp I noticed things were greatly relaxed compared to the last time I’d been here. The guards around the supply CONEX were still pretty rigid, but the rest seemed to have settled into a mode that spoke of resignation to their new lives. I could recall having seen this when I was deployed with guards that had been in country before Desert Shield kicked off. Sure, they’d still shoot you if you looked wrong, but they probably wouldn’t bother shouldering the rifle; they’d just shoot you from the hip.

I hit the little two-stroke’s kill switch and let our momentum carry us into the center of the camp which was the erstwhile Wal-Mart delivery area. I had to stand there and blink the grit out of my eyes for a few seconds before I could begin to engage in conversation.

“So what’s the plan?”

Starke shot back “You’re the guy with the plan, you tell me?”

Having seen which side of the loop we were both on, we decided to go Dwyer’s office for my after action report. I didn’t have to wait this time. Being escorted directly into Dwyer’s office suited me just fine. I had some questions that needed answers right now.

Dwyer looked up as we entered, appearing slightly surprised to see me. I waved his opener away before he said it “Yeah, I know you didn’t expect to see me so soon.”

Dwyer gestured to the plastic chairs in front of his desk. I stood back and let Starke take the one furthest from the door. As soon as he settled in, I stepped around behind the desk and drew my revolver, shoving Dwyer’s head down onto his desk. Starke regarded me with the same look I imagine he would have if I’d sprouted tentacles and began to dance. I stripped Dwyer’s sidearm from it’s large, ostentatious holster and pointed it at Starke.

“Relax. I’m going to ask the Major here some questions and I think you might want to hear the answers as well.” Starke nodded and held up his hands, leaning back into the chair slightly.

“Not that I don’t trust you, but I’m gonna need to relieve you of your sidearm as well.” Starke drew his 9mm from the shoot me  holster on his leg holding the grip with two fingers. “Now empty it.” I could see the rage building in Starke and I understood it. When you carry a weapon for so long you get used to its presence and for someone to take it from you carried the same feelings that might accompany having a finger removed with a cold chisel and a hammer.

Even though he didn’t like it, Starke ejected the magazine and pulled the slide back until it locked, letting the chambered round dribble down the mag well onto the floor and set the gun on the desk.

I did the same with Dwyer’s gun, a very nice chrome plated Colt chambered in .45 caliber with what appeared to be genuine pearl handles. A show piece I thought as I examined it. The gun fit Dwyer to a Tee.

“So question number one. Who are you working for?”

Dwyer didn’t answer immediately so I placed the revolver at the nape of his neck.

“What do you mean? I’m working for the governor, for the state of Michigan! Who else would I be working for?!” Dwyer wasn’t shouting which was good. I didn’t need to draw too much attention from the bored looking guards outside.

I considered his response for a moment before switching gears “Okay, let me rephrase. You are working for the governor who wanted martial law declared and wants to continue martial law, with the help of the feds. True or false?”

Dwyer began to try and bluster. This didn’t really work for me. Turns out in the new world there are quicker and better ways to get things done, so I drew my Ka-bar and slid my revolver back into the holster. Placing the blade between his index and middle fingers , I drew the edge over the soft web of  flesh there until I saw a little line of red appear.

Dwyer to his credit endured this well a sharp intake of breath the only hint that  he was not enjoying the days proceedings. Starke stood up and began to protest. I didn’t point the gun at him this time, only stared at him until he resumed his seat. I placed Ka-bar against Dwyer’s eye this time and repeated my question.

“Yes, damn it!Yes!!!”  I was glad that the threat of losing an eye was enough to motivate him as I really didn’t want to strip him naked and cut off his balls. “My orders come from the Governor himself! We want the Feds to know their place, but we don’t want them to leave!”

Starke stared at Dwyer now as if he, too, had grown tentacles and joined me in singing a duet of ‘No Greater Love’.

“Terrific. Now that we’ve answered the how full of shit is this guy question, hopefully we can proceed without need of further crude  demonstrations. Agreed?” I waggled the blade of Sweet Louise in front of his face slightly until he nodded. That was impressive considering he had most of my weight bearing down on his neck.

I stood just behind and to the left of Dwyer, letting him raise his head and rub his neck a bit. I was pretty sure that Starke, if he wasn’t on board was at least swinging that way, but I wanted to be able to cover the both of them just in case. There was one tense moment when Dwyer, apparently without thinking, turned slightly away from me and reached toward a drawer in his desk. My .357 was out of the holster and laid against his temple before he had a chance to close his fingers on the drawer pull.

He held his hands up “I just wanted to get the neosporin out of that drawer there” he gestured slightly with his head. I opened the drawer for him and saw that it did indeed have a tube of neosporin along with a compact .380 semi auto located just deep enough inside the drawer that most people would have missed seeing it from the other side of the desk.

I took possession of the little handgun and, wrapping my hand around the grip as I slammed my fist into Dwyer’s face twice in rapid succession. I had opened a small cut on the bridge of his nose and my hand was on fire from the impacts.

“If you have any ice in the other drawer, you just leave it there unless you want me to send you off to meet your gods.” Dwyer nodded and took a tissue from the box on his desk and placed it against the cut on his nose.

The voice in my head was insistent that I kill him, but I knew I couldn’t do that and hope to walk out of here alive. I took a moment to master my emotion and gave Starke a chance to chime in. “So why have we been killing the Feds if we’re on the same side?”

“The Governor considers it an ‘acceptable loss’. Plus there just isn’t a way to get everyone in the comm loop on this. We can’t exactly fake a battle!” Dwyer’s face had taken on a deep purple hue. I guess being made to answer to an NCO is a blood pressure trigger for some people.

I waved Starke back before he could say anything else. “So you sent me out to meet with the militia in the hopes that, what? They’d agree to your little plan and when they showed up you’d just slaughter them?”

Dwyer laughed. “Not entirely. We have a use for the so called Patriot’s but it’s a plan that’s already happened you see. We’ll be sending a patrol along shortly to pick up the survivors.”

“You total piece of shit. I was your bird dog?”

Dwyer regarded me calmly “In a sense. We knew where they were, but not what buildings they were using and it’d be wasteful to destroy the whole town, so we just added a little something to your Jeep.” Dwyer looked like the cat that ate the canary, his smile was wide “their headquarters probably went up in flames moments after you left.” He shrugged and smiled so broadly I thought his head might split open “I mean, I’m no pilot but I’m pretty sure the guns on an A-10 have incendiary rounds, right?”

A slight wisp of smoke wafted out the muzzle of my revolver before I had a chance to remind myself that killing Dwyer would likely mean a full on shooting-war to get clear of the camp. The room stank of gunpowder and quickly of urine and feces as Dwyer’s bowels let loose.

I swung to the door seconds before it flew open, two guards with M-16’s appearing there looking confused. Their confusion was short lived as they saw Dwyer’s lifeless body sitting behind his desk.

I pointed the revolver at the guard nearest me and fired before he had a chance to swing his muzzle toward me. The second guard wasn’t as slow in aiming, but had been about to order me to drop my weapon before I shot his companion. I dropped him with another round, his mouth still working wordlessly as he fell.

Starke reached for his gun then stopped holding up one hand “I’m on your side here, okay? But we have got to get this shit under control now. Just let me handle it and don’t shoot anyone unless you have absolutely have to.”

I nodded and thought if I made it through this, he and I were going to need to have a talk about my definition of ‘absolute’.  Starke took up his sidearm and reinserted the magazine, pausing for a second to grab the loose round from the floor and inserting it directly into the barrel.

“Okay, come on. We have to get to comms riki-tik.” Starake turned and left the room stepping over the bodies, not glancing back to see if I was following him. In the maze of CONEX boxes and regular semi-trailers there stood a small U-Haul style truck with several confused looking guards around it. They’d heard the gunfire, but no one knew where it was coming from or what they should do about it, so they kept their posts, but now in high alert.

One of the guards attempted to challenge Starke, but he stood down as Starke brushed by him saying   “The fuck out of my way before I shoot you in the dick, boy.” The guard and his compatriots chuckled nervously as we rushed the truck.

Starke raised the door of the truck and stepped inside walking immediately over to a gray phone and snatching it off its cradle before anyone inside had a chance to object.

“All civilian section leaders and all NCO E-5’s and above report to command immediately.”

The inhabitants of the commo truck began to ask questions, but Starke shook his head and held up a silencing hand “Command has issued a change of orders. Your squad leader will be by in a little while to explain.”

Starke looked at me and let out a pensive breath. “Let’s go. You have a meeting to lead” and was out of the truck before I had a chance to respond.

I stood there for a moment wondering if it was too late for me to sneak out of camp. Yeah, probably was.

Before I could formulate anything resembling a plan small arms fire erupted around the camp. I turned back to one of the comms techs and told him “if there’s a general order to get everyone moving, issue it now. After that, I expect everyone in here to get suited up and get out there ready to build a wall of lead,brass and flesh.” I paused for a moment the comms tech was a slightly pasty faced and overweight kid who probably spent most of his time playing Modern Warfare instead of learning how to operate a rilfe. To the blank stare I said “How read?”

The kid jumped up out of his seat and pressed a button before responding “Sir, yes sir!” I muttered something about being called ‘sir’ under my breath and exited the trailer, the sound of small arms fire still intermittently filling my ears.

Chapter 34 -Belt Fed Revolution

As a Heathen turning the other cheek has never really been an option on the board for me. I’m flexible though and I’d like to think a rational man. I could forgive being struck. That’s the way men handle things. Shooting up my Jeep on the other hand, that was something I was going to need some payback for.

The jackhole that had shot up my Jeep was also the very same that hit me as my new militia friends were covering my head with a pillowcase. The pillowcase was flannel and I liked it. I greatly preferred it in fact to the place I now found myself which I could only assume was a long- abandoned service station.

Large yellowing plexiglas greeted me, heavily scuffed and covered with the same initials I had seen earlier, PLM. The murky light coming through the windows was still enough to keep me at a disadvantage. There were people moving around in the small space, but they kept themselves between me and the light effectively making them little more than shadows.

After some conversation a second chair for my interrogator was produced and shortly occupied by someone with a flashlight which was pointed at my face. I recognized the voice as someone from the fight at the gas station, but it wasn’t the leader who had remained mostly in the truck during that encounter.

“You with us?” the voice began. “Hello?”

“If this is the way you treat all your guests, I’m going to be leaving a very negative note on my feedback card.”

“Sorry about all that. Some people don’t know how to treat valued customers.”  It was good to know people had a sense of humor still. “So what are you then? I mean no offense, but you don’t look like a SEAL, but hey,  FedGov’s gotta be scraping the bottom of the barrel too, am I right?”

“You think I’m a Fed? Wow, yeah they would be scraping the bottom if they sent me. Good looks aside, that is.” I paused. There was no laugh this time. Screw him, I know I look good. “I’m just a guy trying to find a safe place to hole up and ride out our collective failure.”

My captor’s posture changed. “Our failure?”

“You don’t think we have a part in this?”  He didn’t respond so I carried on  “We let the government do this to us.  We had plenty of opportunities to ‘correct’ our ‘leaders’, but we just sat back and let them run the country into the ground all the while thinking we could vote our way out of it, or we’d elect the right guy and he’d fix everything. Tell me you don’t see how ‘we the people’ could have done something before it got to this point?”

The flashlight turned off. “Yeah.” he laughed “I’ve heard something like this before.” This time everyone  in the room laughed.

I was blinking, trying to clear the after image of the flashlight from my eyes. “Does this mean I can go? Don’t I have answer two more questions?”

Another voice chimed in, this time I recognized their leader.  “We know you’re not part of FedGov” He said,the word seemed somehow strung together. “What we don’t know is who you are working for?”

“I’m working for the real Michigan Militia. MVDF.” I looked to the shadows where the voice was coming from “They paid me with a Jeep Cherokee. I think you may have seen it?”

An uncomfortable silence passed. I could see movement from the shadows as several people left the room.

“You have my apologies for that.” He cleared his throat before continuing “However, you’re working for the government and that makes you an enemy of the Patriot’s Liberty Militia.”

I stifled a laugh. “The government? As I understand it these guys are fighting the same people you are. Maybe you’ve heard that old saw ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend?’ I mean, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your war, but maybe you ought to consider at least having a sit down with them?”

Quiet laughter filled the room. “That what they told you? They’re fighting FedGov? Hate to bust your bubble son, but you’ve been had.”

****

Things got a might friendlier after that. I wasn’t exactly welcomed as a long lost kinsman, but I was offered some water and taken to sit at a table with the PLM leader and others.

“So they told you they’re fighting FedGov, eh?”

I shook my head.  “Not so much told me as showed me.” I recounted the fight that had taken place between Starke’s crew and the Fed forces, skirting around things like John’s death and my desire to leave Starke and his friends to their own devices while we got out of dodge.

“What rock is it you lived under?” I couldn’t see who said this. Apparently this little meeting had become a bit of entertainment drawing in a lot of the militia members to fill the room behind us.

Mr Leader waved his hand and the room quieted. “You got a little less than half the story. It’s true FedGov tried to declare martial law, but they did so at the request of the governor.” the old man drew out a pipe and a small pouch. As he was packing it he raised an eye “Hope you don’t mind. Even if you do, though.” he shrugged and left it at that continuing to fill his pipe.

“It’s true, I think, for the most of them–the NCO’s that is–that think they’re fighting FedGov. Their command structure isn’t exactly sharing information down the chain.” He paused to light up his pipe, an aroma of cherries filled the air in the small space. “I was part of that chain. I commanded the 3rd AO–that’s Detroit, by the by–So I know what was going on. Now it may be true what you say, that you were with a group that fought FedGov forces, but the truth of the matter is they and probably those they fought didn’t know the truth of things.”

Somewhere in the distance I heard a small generator kick on as it began to grow dark. The men of the PLM affixed plywood to cover the windows of the small building, while others went out to secure the perimeter. Loud fluorescent lights came on inside. I wasn’t exactly pleased when I saw them beginning to make coffee as I recognized the container they were drawing it from.

“Oh yes, please help yourselves to some coffee.” I intoned wondering what else was going to come up missing from my supplies.

Mr Leader nodded and smiled “Spoils of war, friend.” he tapped his pipe on the edge of the table adding “your donation is greatly appreciated.”

“So what’s my part in all this? If you’re going to kill me, then how about we just get to the show?”

“Your part in all this is you get to be our inside man. You can tell us what they’re planning. Tell us something about troop strength and armament.”

“Actually, no. I can’t tell you any of that. What I can tell you is why I’m here, because that’s what I know. Their man, Major Dwyer?” heads nodded as I mentioned the name “He tasked me with making contact with you, so you could be brought into the fold–as it were.”

Coffee was served. It was weak, but hot and I enjoyed it.

“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure anyone on that side is entirely in-the-loop on what the plan is. It’s possible even their officer’s believe they’re fighting for freedom from the Feds, as you call them.”  Mr Leader leaned forward in his chair and looked me in the eye “That being the case, let me make you a counter offer.”