Chapter 14

When the protection detail learned of Jim’s demands, some looks were passed between several of the suits, but nothing was said.

When Suzy and I said, we would take him there. We were vetoed immediately. Jim was a material witness and needed to be guarded. If it hadn’t been for Jim insisting that we come along, I’m sure that we wouldn’t have been included. As it was, we were allowed to follow in our rig, transportation being unavailable for civilians.

When we arrived at Jim’s home, I was immediately nervous. This was a cul-de-sac and had no exits. I could tell Suzy was just as concerned. The SUV carrying Jim pulled into his driveway and shut down. Lance pulled his jeep in next to it. The backup rig pulled in behind him. The alarm bells were getting louder.

I pulled into the cul-de-sac and got situated facing out. I sat there with Suzy. “Matt, this doesn’t feel right. Those bozo’s have blocked themselves in. I smell an ambush.”

“Me too. I think we need to get Jim out of here as quickly as possible. You head over and see if you can convince these guys. I’ll get out and see about getting at least a little security going.”

Suzy and Shadow got out of the truck and headed towards Jim’s house. Meanwhile, I was surveying the area.

This was a standard Cul-De-Sac. 5 houses in a semi-circle with a single access road. At the entrance, there were houses on either side. At the house on the left, A foreign-made sedan was parked. Across from there, a green cargo van was parked in the driveway. Everything seemed normal. But something just didn’t feel right. That’s when I noticed the real estate ‘For Sale sign in front of the house on the right.

I jumped from my truck and started yelling for the nearest FBI agent. He just stared at me. Until he saw me pull my 1911, that’s when He realized that there was a threat, ME.

Meanwhile, I was running towards the van. That’s when there were two gunshots fired in rapid succession. Followed by an explosion. And then silence.

It had dawned on the FBI guy that I wasn’t the threat, but something behind the van was.

The FBI agent beat me to the van. Only because I was a little less enthusiastic in my approach, he came busting around the back of that van with his Glock in a search and destroy mission. I gave him his advantage and eased around behind him.

Laying on the ground was a white male. I could tell that because he had blond hair. But there was no other way to tell eye color anymore. The right side of his head was a mangled mess. His right hand was also mangled. Lying next to him was an AK47. The upper receiver was shredded.

I looked over to the FBI agent. His eyes were the size of dinner plates, and he was as pale as a ghost. He was staring at the corpse, his lips moving, but no sound was coming from him. I slowly came in from his side and grasped the Glocks slide and his lower arm.

“It’s OK, son, you’ll be alright.” As I was talking to him, I turned him away from the carnage and started gently pushing him away from the van. I was continuing to speak to him until we got out of view of the body. Then I sat him down on the curb. At that point, I was able to take the Glock from him. I dropped the magazine and ejected the round in the chamber. Then I slid the pistol back into his holster.

By this time, we had been joined by the others. I didn’t say anything, But I had a good idea of what happened. I had seen that kind of damage before. Whoever the shooter was, He had used a cheap chinese civilian model AK, illegally converted over to full auto. What a lot of these idiots didn’t realize was that these civilian models were made from a cheaper grade of metal. That was stamped and not forged.

Next, He had been using reloads. The AK47 uses a 7.62X39 mm round. Most people would buy a box over the counter, and that would be it. Shooters that spent a lot of time on the range usually got into reloading. Fresh rounds got to be expensive, and many target shooting enthusiasts, to save money, would reload their own ammo.

There are years, decades of information available on reloading ammo. So just about any mix and match on bullet weight versus powder grains, or amount, had been experimented with and information available.

One of the problems that pop up with inexperienced reloaders was their powder. If you don’t use enough powder for the bullet size, the bullet won’t go as far or as fast as you want. In some cases, the bullet might not even leave the barrel. And that is bad, very bad.

The other side of the coin was too much powder. Then you run into the problem of a barrel rupturing on you.

When a round is fired, gas is generated. That gas is under pressure. The bullet, in front of that pressurized gas, takes the path of least resistance down the barrel. Followed by the gas, which then vents into the cycling system to load the next round, or out of the muzzle of the weapon.

But, If the gas generated is too strong or the barrel too weak, you stand a better than fair chance of the barrel rupturing. If there is enough pressure, that rupture is an explosion.

Now, why would you use too much powder? Well, Powder equals power. The bullet will go longer, faster, with more punch. An experienced reloader looks for the tradeoffs. And tailors his ammo for the mission. The military loads all of their own sniper rounds. They will not use off-the-shelf, mass-produced ammo. Their sniper ammo is tailored to the shooter, gun, and mission.

What I suspected happened was that whoever the shooter was, He had a civilian grade AK47 knock-off. Made from inferior metals. And he had converted it to full auto. Then in a macho expression of bravado, He loaded his ammo to be the hottest possible. I would be willing to bet that his goal was something made to penetrate resistant vests. What he did was reinvent a Darwin award method of unintentional suicide.

While I was tending to my shell-shocked FBI Agent, Lance came up and pulled me away from the scene and towards the house. “Reynolds, we’ve got a problem.”

I was willing to bet that the day had just got worse. “What problem?”

“The kid and your lady have disappeared.”

“What do you mean disappeared?”

“When the shooting started, everybody was focused on the shooter. Your lady hustled the kid into the house and slammed to door in my face. When I finally was able to get in, they were gone.”

As we approached the house, I digested what he was saying. “How about my dog? Did you see Shadow?”

“Your DOG? Your lady and the kid are missing, and you’re worried about your DOG?”

“Look, bonehead, did you see the dog or not?”

“No, No sign of him.”

“Alright, Let’s look at the house.” We went in through the front door into the living room. Everything was covered by sheets and dust clothes. A layer of dust on everything.

As we went further, I could tell by the undisturbed dust on the stairwell that no one had been up there in a long time. However, there was a trail downstairs leading towards the back of the house. The dust had been disturbed. I noted several dog tracks leading that way. The trail lead through the dining room, kitchen, out the back mudroom, and outside.

I stood on the back porch and looked around at the forest that bordered the backyard. While it wasn’t a total wilderness like at home, it was more like an untended park. It was overgrown with ferns and undergrowth.

I stood a moment, looking at my surroundings. Then I whistled. Just one short sound. Lance asked, “What was that about?”

That’s when I heard a faint woof. I turned and smiled at Lance. “I don’t think you need to let anyone know about this. I would bet that the conclusion is that Suzy and Jim have been kidnapped. Probably by Islamic terrorists. Meanwhile, I am going to have a seat in that comfortable-looking slider on the front porch. When you’re ready, you can join me.”

I then retraced my steps and sat down on the slider. Lance followed me with a confused look of anger, disgust, and curiosity on his face. As soon as we were out front, He approached the lead DOJ agent and let him know about the new developments.