Chapter 4

Soon enough we headed back up Highway 59 and I hoped we'd get back to Atlanta before we came across any more trouble. There was no such luck. Just south of Nacogdoches we spotted a damned road block on the highway. I looked it over with a pair of binoculars when we were still more than a mile out. They didn't look like any official law enforcement types and I could see they had already stopped two cars.

They were on a bridge over a small river. I knew damned well we didn't have any really long range firearms so I stayed where I'd stopped in the middle of the road nearly half a mile from the bridge. I broke out the long guns we had, M1s, and had all the girls who knew how to shoot load them up and get ready to fire in case they sent someone down to check us out.

My next trick was to call back to Houston for support. General Frankston was on the radio with me in minutes and after I explained the deal he had what he thought was the cure for it right away.

Jack, we happen to have a squad of snipers around here just now. I'll send them out in a couple of helicopters. They should be there in an hour or so," he said.

I thanked him and we ended the conversation. I told the help was on the way and we just brewed a pot of coffee using the Hummer's electric outlet and a Mr. Coffee. We even broke open an MRE each and had a snack.

We were considering brewing another pot when two Apaches and a Chinook set down behind us. I hopped out and went to talk things over with them.

A colonel was in charge and he introduced himself as Chester Groton. I gave him all the intel I had on the situation and pointed out that I thought they had some captives already. He had one of the Apaches get up again and directed him to the other end of the bridge to keep them from running away.

About then he had eight snipers and their spotters get out of the Chinook and set up for business. They carted their equipment to the end of the bridge and prepared to open the ball. It left them with about a three hundred yard shot. I just waited and watched the targets with the binoculars.

I don't know what the fools on the bridge had in mind, but they were just standing around. Most of them were carrying long guns, but they looked like hunting rifles and they weren't pointing them in our direction.

When the snipers got prone and pointed their Barrets toward the targets the Colonel told them to make sure they didn't hit any of the detained civilians and then he told them to fire when ready.

Damn. Those Barrets made one hell of a lot of noise. I was watching when they fired and the eight men standing around with rifles all went down at once. Soon enough one of the men I considered a captive got out of a car waving a white rag. The snipers jumped up and started trotting toward them then. I noticed four of them would trot about fifty yards and then shoulder their weapons while the other four leapfrogged them and did the same thing fifty yards later. They only shot one more individual on the way and only then because he popped up from behind a pickup with a rifle, pointing it at them.

When they reached the jam up they began sorting the sheep from the goats. Apparently the captured civilians helped them. Six more men were rounded up, stripped of their weapons, had their hands bound behind them and were sent our way with two of the snipers following them. Meanwhile the remaining snipers and spotters began throwing the dead ones off the bridge and into the water.

The captured men were crying and begging by the time they made it. I didn't know the snipers had told them they were on their way to their final trial. The Colonel knew it all though and as the culprits arrived he shot them each and every one in the forehead with his sidearm. It was a .45 auto.

He motioned for a couple of his men to pitch the bodies onto the shoulder of the road and then he went back to the Chinook. He told me to go and examine the bad boys vehicles in case I wanted them as he left.

We got back into the Hummer and took off again. When we reached the road block I was happy to see two new looking four wheel drive crew cab pickups. I checked them out and found they were lightly loaded with supplies and equipment. I asked Carol to drive one and Kathy to drive the other. The civilians looked shell shocked and I asked the oldest man with them if any were injured.

"No, but it was lucky you drove up when you did. I had the feeling they were going to kill all us men and they were looking long and hard at the girls," he said.

Hell, I didn't say so but I would have been too. They didn't look like girls to me. They were young women and they were worth looking at. We let him go then and they took off toward the north after Carol and Kathy had the pickups out of the way.

Just as I was about to climb back into the Hummer the Colonel came back to tell me he was going to let the Apache scout the road ahead of us. He told us what frequency to get on to talk to the pilot and I finally figured out how to do it. He'd also told us the pilots call sign was Snakeyes and I called him to make sure I could reach him. He came right back and said he hadn't seen anything else in the road so we took off.

We stayed behind the civilians we'd help rescue until they turned off the road in Nacadoches. We kept at it. Three hours later we made it through Bivins Texas, a small town just seven mile south of Atlanta. Snakeyes called us and said there was another roadblock just outside the town of Atlanta. The colonel told him to take a blocking position again and as we came near the place, on the ground, the Chinook sat down behind where we stopped and the snipers piled out and took up positions again.

The colonel came out with a bull horn, pointed it there way and told them to clear the bridge at once by driving toward us. They didn't make any moves to comply. I was looking at them through my binoculars and saw one I knew and damned if he didn't seem to be the head man in charge.

"That's Cooter Jameson giving the orders down there. He's a wanna be tough guy and he's a known thief." I said, to the colonel.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into him. Want to give it a try?" he asked me.

I took the bullhorn and did my best.

"The Jig's up Cooter. This is a patrol sent out from Houston to get rid of the roadblocks on Highway 59. That helicopter behind you ain't going to let you leave except in flaming wreckage. These are eight snipers laid out in front of me and they're just waiting for the word to cut you down like the piece of shit you are. If you want to live ten more seconds you'd better give up," I said.

Cooter's last action was shooting us the bird. A sniper took his head off seconds later. Man, I was going to beg for one of those Barrets before they left. The rest of Cooter's buddies couldn't throw their weapons down fast enough. One word from the colonel and they were on their backs on the bridge. The snipers took the lead and we headed toward them.

There were nine of them when we got there. The colonel took out his cell phone and called the county sheriff when we stopped. He explained who he was and explained that we had executed the ring leader of a band of road pirates and that we had nine others captured. He asked if the sheriff wanted us to hold the others for him to pick up or just execute them all here and now.

Apparently the sheriff didn't have the manpower to deal with them now and the colonel didn't say a thing except "Goodbye." He then took out his sidearm and began cashing in the chips of the others. The snipers stripped the bodies and threw them into Black Bayou.

Cooter and his cronies must not have had time to steal any good rides since they had come in one shitty pickup and two shittier cars. The snipers got them going and drove them off the bridge.

I told the colonel I was home now and he said they'd park up in the National Armory and wait for a telephone call so we could tell him we were safely in my home. He handed me a brand new cell phone and told me it was on a government account so I should feel free to call anytime I needed something. He said there were several numbers saved in it already. I thanked him and climbed back in the Hummer in the passenger seat and gave Marilyn, the current driver, directions on which way to go.

We went directly to my family home at 601 Miller Street. The house looked abandoned when we got there and I was glad enough about that. The electricity and gas were off though and I didn't think much of that. I used the cell phone and called the numbers directory assistance gave me.

I'll admit I threw my weight around a little when I got someone on the line. I gave them my official title and ordered them to get the electricity and gas back on right away. One woman at the Electric company said it wouldn't be possible and I told her I'd have a squad of Special Forces to see her about it if they didn't get on the way right now. She said she'd take care of it so I let it go and hung up.

I was surprised to see a car from the gas company show up in about five minutes. A single man got out and headed for the meter. When he got to it he asked if there were any valves open in the house. I told him I didn't know and he asked if we could open the place up and check. We opened the garage door with a butt stroke from an M16 and then everyone went inside to look for open gas valves. I led the way since I knew where the possibles were. They all seemed to be off and I went out and told the guy.

"I'll go ahead and turn on the gas and if you'll show me where the water heater and any other appliances that use pilots are I'll light them," he said, and then he gave the valve a turn.