Chapter 11

It was the thirty eighth hour on the trail when we saw trooper Maggie Mills. We were tired but we were on site with at least two days to spare. Red Hawk, Two Horses, Broken Knife, Milt, and I rode out to meet Maggie. "Where are they?" I asked but the smile on her face told me she had good news.

"They're still three, maybe four days away. They broke an axel yesterday morning. Tom, all of those wagons are overloaded, but the first three are the heaviest, so we came up with an idea. They have to come up through the canyon now. We caved in the other road and sacrificed some buffalo to make it look like the buffalo caused the cave in and a couple of them died in the process. Then in the canyon at this end we dug a tunnel all the way across the road. It's four feet wide and four foot tall and there's only maybe seven inches to a foot of soil to hold up those heavy wagons. We're not even sure it will hold up the mules pulling the wagons, but either way the first one to go over the tunnel stops right there."

Red Hawk looked like he could hardly contain his glee, "Will they be able to see the tunnel?"

"No Sir! We closed the end up with rocks and brush. If you don't know where it is you can't find it," Maggie looked like she was about to bust with pride.

Two Horses was nodding his head, "What else have you done to get ready?"

Maggie ran her fingers across the many blisters on her hands, "We have started digging foxholes up on the sides of the hills, and our sharpshooters have taken a few shots to see how well they could fire from concealment."

"Well done Maggie," Red Hawk reached across and took her hand looking at the many blisters, "Tom, it looks like you have some doctoring to do."

Two Horses whistled up the squad leaders and one of them was really glad to see Maggie. Two Horses smiled and nodded his head towards Robert. Robert jumped off his horse and ran to his wife. Maggie got off her horse very gingerly, the back breaking work of the past two days had been non stop and everyone in the two squads were tired and sore. Robert wrapped his arms around his wife as they kissed, "God I missed you. This has been the longest week in my life."

"While Robert and Maggie get reacquainted I'll brief you a bit. Maggie's and Franks squads have worked their butts off. They have sabotaged the other road and dug a trap on the other road the wagons will have to take. They have also started digging foxholes. As soon as their reunion is over we're going to ride over to the ambush site and go over the plan." I watched as Robert helped Maggie back on her horse, "Alright Maggie, lead on."

As Maggie led us to the ambush site we went over the dangers created by the automatic weapons. The ambush site turned out to be everything that the scouts had reported and more. The road between the two hills was the steeper of the two roads; the other road wound around the series of low hills and, according to Milt, was only used in really bad weather or when the loads were extra heavy. He also said that many of the people that used the trail a lot had noticed how the mostly dry creek that ran beside the other road was cutting into the trail and Milt had been told that it might not be usable after this year.

As we looked down at the three dead buffalo lying with the dirt that had once been the road we had to smile because nothing looked out of place. We went over every inch of both hills and assigned squads to specific areas along the road. The only negative was that there would be no place to hide horse mounted troops that could seal up the rear. The troops to perform that function would have to be almost three miles away.

Once the assignments were made half of each squad was put to work digging and camouflaging their foxholes. This battle would fit perfectly with our doctrine of war, if possible we always wanted to pick the place and this was an ideal site. The second thing that we always wanted were superior numbers. We would have every trooper we had dug in to those two hills. The one thing that I did not like to think about was what would happen if we failed with our first volley and that is what I tried to focus our people on: what would happen if we missed. If we got into a fire fight we would get hurt and hurt bad.

For two days we worked our tails off. While we were doing that our target was having trouble by the bucket load. They had replaced the broken axel and travelled less than a mile when the wheel on another wagon broke. The third wagon in fact and our scouts watched as they yelled and screamed at each other over the broken wheel. It was obvious that their frustration level was very high. That frustration made them make mistakes. That night our scouts reported that two men had been badly hurt and the axel damaged when they had dropped the wagon while trying to change out the wheel.

It took them three days to cover a little over five miles and that gave us plenty of time to prepare. The problem was the extra time was only causing second guessing and nervous worry. Day three and the target was still over a day away, the scouts that night reported a big argument between the man the scouts had nicknamed "Big Boss" and the man they called "Booger picker". I don't think I have to tell you how he got that name.

"Big Boss" spent all day riding out to the side of the wagons on his big bay horse yelling at the men driving the wagons. Several times when the scouts had been within shouting distance they had heard Big Boss screaming about running behind schedule. On other occasions he had referred to the governor and then last night in yet another blow up with Booger Picker had said, "I don't care if your brother is the governor." That bit of information had made our task all the more urgent.

They made good time and covered most of the distance to the ambush site before they made camp. Scouts hiding in thick brush listened as the two men had yet another shouting match. The subject of this one was water. Their breakdowns had caused them to take three days longer than normal between water holes. This meant they were getting desperate to get to the creek where the rest of our Band was encamped. I hoped this would be a good thing.

The ambush would happen tomorrow. We had an early supper then everyone went and spent time with their loved ones. We had moved our bed for the night to the wagon where Mae was. She was only fourteen years old and I didn't really understand why, but she was the same as my other wives. I had fought it briefly but had surrendered to Beth's logic when she had said, "We have accepted it, why shouldn't you?" So Mae had joined our marriage. Her vagina and anus were still healing as were her many bruises and broken bones but we included her where we could. And since tonight was so important we made love in the bed we had rigged beside Mae's. I had worried that watching us would be hard for her, reminding her of her rape.

Mae had to remind me of what I already knew, being raped and being made love to are worlds apart. Mae laughed as she watched Jana get on top of me and ride me to a noisy end. "Well," Mae started, "what Jana does to you is somewhere between rape and making love."

"I can't help it, I was horny." Jana complained.

Which was answered by all of us saying at once, "You're always horny."

Jana just grinned, "So?"

We all laughed; it was a good way to take the edge off. We really needed to sleep but we were way too keyed up for that. At two in the morning the call went out and I kissed my wives. Beth and Prissy would stay here with Mae, while Jana, Fran, Sam and I went to take our positions. It would be a long wait until dawn.

As the sun came up that morning everything that we had thought to do had been done. The thing that nagged me was whether we had forgotten anything. We had put our best two hundred marksmen and women in the foxholes all along both sides of the narrow pass. At the far end was the trap that we hoped would stop the wagons. Robert's two field pieces were dug in looking down the pass if it didn't. Robert's three squads with their two cannons and Gatling gun would, with the rest of our troops, stop the wagons from ever getting though the pass.

A light shower had passed through the day before giving Tommy an idea. He had taken off without saying a word and returned two hours later with Moses and six of his men. They took four spare axels and used them to make tracks so that it looked like two wagons had gone through right after the rain. The axels were light enough that they rolled right over the tunnel; two wheels with horseshoes attached to it left the needed horse tracks. The trap was now baited.

At half past ten Big Boss rode up to the fork and saw the buffalo decaying at the bottom of the creek. He rode up the pass a couple of hundred yards looking at the tracks that Tommy and Moses' men had left then he looked around, but didn't see anything out of place. When he turned his horse and rode back to the approaching wagons all of us breathed a sigh of relief.

The wagons entered the pass with Big Boss off of the main trail; twice he rode within ten feet of one of our foxholes. The lead wagon approached the trap, the drivers urging the teams up the long hill, the guards watching, perhaps worried about the very thing that was about to happen. When the first wagon rolled right over the tunnel and nothing happened everyone's heart rate seemed to double. The second wagon came and went and still nothing happened. The signal, a meadow lark call, went out and Robert's men got ready as the third wagon approached the tunnel. The mules made it over, as did the front wheels, but when the rear wheels went over the tunnel it collapsed and the yelling started and the wagons behind had to stop. The two wagons that had passed over the trap stopped as well. Now that all the wagons had stopped the countdown had started.

At the five second mark the pass erupted. There were a few late shots but the first volley had worked. Forty guards were hit with at least two bullets each, Big Boss was hit by five. I yelled down for the others to put their hands up if they wanted to live. Six did not want to live, but those six inspired the rest to put up their hands.

Troopers that had been assigned to secure the automatic rifles now did so as the rest of us rushed down from the top of the pass. The four squads that had trailed the wagons and had been hiding in the clouds of dust the wagons raised had come at full gallop at the sound of the first shot. By the time we rode down the pass those troopers had come up to the tail of the wagon train.

Among those four squads were many of the freed slaves. These squads had been picked specifically for this task because all of the slaves were kept at the tail of this train. We had just cornered Booger Picker when we heard shots at the tail of the train. Broken Knife rode to check it out. While I tried to get Booger Picker to talk, "Where did these come from?" I held what turned out to be an M-4 rifle complete with grenade launcher.

"Mr. Black, he's a friend of Mr. Johns. What are you going to do with us?" Booger Picker asked.

I took a look at the wagon that had fallen into the tunnel it was nothing but parts now, "Unhitch the team and whistle up a couple of wagons so we can off load this wagon." I turned back to Booger Picker who was at that very second digging in his nose, "What's your name? I'm pretty sure you don't want us calling you by the name we've been calling you?"

"Bob Jenkins. Why, what have you been calling me?"

The man was still digging in his nose, "Our scouts nicknamed you Booger Picker and the governor's brother, Big Boss about a week ago. We listened to too many of yours and his arguments."

The man slowly took his finger out of his nose and looked at me; some of his own men around us were snickering and covering their mouths to hide their laughter. "You've been listening to us? Wait a minute, what do you mean the late Governor?"

"We invaded Santa Fe over a month ago and captured the governor in his own house. He, along with his supporters, were tried and executed." I watched as the man swallowed hard, "And yes we've had people shadowing you for almost 2 weeks." The wagons were coming down the pass as we spoke, "Get the drivers searched and their hands tied."

Broken Knife rode up, "Some of the people didn't like the idea of freeing their slaves."

"And you killed them for that?" Booger Picker exclaimed.

"Working for the Governor or keeping slaves are both punishable by death." I watched as my words sunk in. The squads started unloading the wagon. It was filled with 5.56mm ammunition. Once all of the ammo was off loaded that wagon headed back to camp and the second empty wagon turned and eased back. The hidden compartment was opened up and case after case of M-4's were unloaded as the drivers look on wide eyed.

The next wagon to pull up had an axel and two wheels for the wagon in the ditch. lthough the wagon was badly damaged Moses and his men had it jury rigged in less than an hour and out of the hole created as the tunnel collapsed. The wagon that had held the parts and the broken wagon headed on back to our camp.

Four more wagons were lined up waiting to pull forward. When the broken wagon got clear, the first of the four wagons pulled forward, turned around parallel to the former tunnel. The wagon, like the three others waiting on the road in front of it, was filled with large rocks. The rocks were quickly unloaded into the hole, one wagon full after another.

As the last wagon rolled off the last rock, three more wagons started down the hill. These three wagons, which were filled with dirt, each turned and pulled up beside the hole, now almost filled with rocks, and ten troopers start shovelling dirt from the wagon. Soon that wagon was emptied and another took its place. Two and a half hours after the ambush the hole was filled and the captured wagons were pulling in beside ours at our camp.

Tommy found the wagon with the young girls. Fortunately these girls had been better treated than the last group we had freed. The drivers listened as we told what Preston Johns had been doing and how we had found out about it. Milt knew most of the trains that had been hit. Two of the drivers had to be consoled when they found out that brothers and sisters on those trains had been killed. Most of the drivers elected to stay and join our band. That left three that seemed alright but no one ever fully trusted them. One of the drivers said that the three men often drank with the guards. So it was no surprise when, two nights later, they were caught trying to steal some of the M-4 rifles.

The next day, after a quick tribunal, they were executed. I suppose I should feel bad about them, but I keep thinking of those kids and how brutally they were murdered. While they might not have done the deed they had knowledge. So many had knowledge and did nothing about it. I remember reading..."the only way for evil to exist is for good men to see it and do nothing" ... I don't remember who said it but I believe it to be true and, in a way, it has become what drives me, here in this time. My thoughts went back to the wagons we'd taken.

M-4 assault rifles, a thousand both with and without grenade launcher, and with them enough 5.56mm ammo to start a war. Hand grenades, smoke grenades, ten M-24.308 bolt action sniper rifles with several thousand rounds of ammo, claymore mines, and one M-82A1.50 caliber Barrett semi auto sniper rifle and plenty of ammo for it. Oh! And I almost forgot, night vision goggles with lots of spare batteries and still more drugs and medical equipment and books. What were these people playing at? How are they getting all this stuff to this time and why?

If I ever had any doubts about the character of Red Hawk and his brother Two Horses, they are gone now. With the weapons we have now we could close off the flow of settlers coming west. We could concede California, Oregon, and Washington on the west coast allow them Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. We would then rule everything else west of the Mississippi and it would be damn hard for anyone to stop us. They still wanted to go west but agreed that something must be done with Mr. Black, and with Mr. Chase's help we were learning a lot about their operation. We learned that there should be another wagon train coming through with more weapons. We decided to wait right where we were. Long range scouts had already been sent out. Taking a page from the Pony Express, we were setting up riders all along the trail. Each rider was set the distance one can safely gallop a horse without hurting the horse.

Five days later the first galloper arrived. She slid her horse to a stop and saluted. She handed off the pouch with the reports in it. As instructed the first paragraph gave a brief summery of the situation followed by details and suggested actions.

Squad leader Josh Jones had an idea. After a short discussion with Red Hawk and Two Horses, we sent the message for Josh to try his idea. Tia, one of the orphans Tommy had rescued from Santa Fe, returned after having a hot meal and picking up a fresh mount; putting the message pouch over her head she left for her twenty five mile leg of the trip back. Twenty two hours later the message would be in Josh's hands. After that all we could do was sit and wait.

Early the third day after Tia had left our camp at a gallop, she was returning, and if the grin on her face was any indicator Josh had been successful. Tia rode to the centre of the camp where Red Hawk, Two Horses, and I stood waiting. The crowd that had gathered parted, making a clear path and she never slowed until she slid her pony to a stop, saluted, and pulled the pouch over her head. Tia's smile had all of us even more anxious to hear the news.

I pulled the report from the pouch, and smiled myself when I saw the action report. "Here is what the after action report says. 'Stopped Wagon Train at ten am the morning of the fourth. Squad sniper Mae Smith fired one round as a demonstration, '" I stopped reading for a second, "The plan was for the sniper to make a long distance shot either with the M-24 or the M-82A1, then offer the Wagon Master a chance to either surrender or to die." I went back to the report, "Let's see, where was I? Ah here, "the Wagon Master ordered all of the men to lay down their guns and they complied. Initial search of the thirty special wagons found the following: M-4 carbines, M-24 rifles, two M-82A1, two large guns that shoot the same ammo as the Barrett's except the bullets are on a belt, five guns that use the .308 ammo on belts, four very strange looking guns, and large amounts of ammunition and medical supplies and five wagons with material that we cannot identify. In addition to the weapons seizures thirty eight slaves were liberated and Trooper Davidson rescued twenty two young ladies one of which had been raped two weeks earlier. Rapist had been hung by the Wagon Master the next day. We have taken control of the wagon train and are moving it too a location with better graze and more water, will wait for you there as ordered.'"