Bonner Incident (29 page)

Hearing more voices coming, he eased back under the target and saw a group of people heading to the monster tent, all carrying boxes. Waiting till they were gone and glancing around, he slowly moved back to the few trees and grabbed the rest of his explosives.

Laying down, he made his last bomb and set the alarm. Rolling back to his stomach, he crawled to the last tree before the parking lot and waited. On the other side of the tent, going up to the main office were several groups of people. He crawled back to the next tree and waited.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his small digital camera. He turned it on, took a picture of the group and then pressed the record button. Aiming at the group, Joshua said in a normal voice. “This is Joshua Anderson,” and tilted the camera to show the bomb he’d made. “I do this of my own free will. You fucked with my family and now I have to kill all of you.” Not showing his face to the camera and hitting pause, he shoved the camera back in his pocket.

There in the shadows, he laid for an hour till the group had all gone back into the tent or had left. Hearing a diesel engine behind him, Joshua slowly rolled on his side to see an MRAP stop on Lodgepole Lane fifty yards behind him and a bunch of men in black tactical gear got out and walked toward the other tent, following a dirt track that connected the Lodgepole to Elkins Rd. This was the first time he’d seen one of the huge vehicles up close, and really didn’t want to see it any closer.

If the group had headed to the other tent, they would’ve passed within feet of him. As it was, the closest man only got  within five yards. Hearing them talking and laughing, Joshua almost pulled out his M4 and started right there.

The group was laughing at how the kids and teachers had screamed when they’d run into the school to get William. Their only saving grace was when one shouted, “You see how hard that kid fought back? We had to cuff him so he wouldn’t hurt himself.”

Proud that his son had fought back and knowing he had to show them what happened when you messed with his family, Joshua stayed calm when another MRAP pulled up. A group of guys dressed like the others got out but stayed around the MRAP.

Looking back toward the monster tent, he didn’t see anyone close and crawled back to the last tree before the parking lot. Glancing around and not seeing anyone, Joshua pushed up and darted over, diving under the target. He paused, but didn’t hear any calls of alarm and checked his bomb. Seeing it was okay, he shoved it over the axle. This close to the tent, he could hear people talking inside and the hum of a bunch of computers and TVs.

Glancing back, he saw the group still standing around the MRAP and knew the other group was around the first tent. He looked south to where a small canal to the lake had been dug and some cabins ran beside it. Looking around, Joshua darted across the parking lot to the trees that were around the closest cabin and stopped.

Taking his M4 off his back, he hung it across his chest. Easing past the cabin, he heard men talking inside and a TV blaring. Still with ample light, Joshua pulled out his camera again and hit the record button. “This I do in retaliation for your actions against my family. This is now a war. Look on the dock for my calling card,” he said and held up a scrench. Others called it a chainsaw T-wrench, but loggers called it a scrench. After turning the camera off, he put it in a plastic bag and hoped the pamphlet about the night vision goggles was correct on how waterproof they were.

Coming to the canal, Joshua eased to the bank and silently slipped in, drawing in a sharp breath as the cold water started sucking heat from his body. When he was chest deep, he continued lowering his body till just his eyes and nose were out of the water.

Walking along the bottom, Joshua headed for the lake and towards the marina. The sky was clear and there wasn’t a moon out, but if anyone saw a helmeted head floating by in the water, they would certainly investigate.

Reaching the marina, the ground fell away and Joshua treaded water while heading for the docks. On the docks, he saw tall antennas lined up and a few more satellite dishes. Reaching the docks, he lifted out of the water and drove the scrench into the boards as he lowered himself back down into the water. Gently swimming under the docks so he wouldn’t leave a wake or splash, Joshua cleared the pilings for the dock and continued swimming parallel to the bank.

Willing his body not to shiver, he picked up a little speed but felt his feet start to go numb in the frigid water. In March, Priest Lake is cold.

Knowing he couldn’t stay in the water much longer, Joshua dog paddled past a floating platform that was about seventy yards off the beach. Fighting the desire to climb up on the platform just to get out of the water, Joshua swam on, knowing the platform offered no reprieve.

He started angling toward the beach and could easily make out the line of cabins that Elk Lodge rented out, and most had lights on. When his feet finally touched bottom, Joshua lowered his body to keep it in the water as he walked to shore. This took great effort because his body wanted to get the hell out of the water.

When the water was only two feet deep, he stood and moved to the bank and shivers erupted from his body. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop. Trying to grab his M4, Joshua found his hands didn’t work and his legs moved like they were made of wood. Moving next to a tree, Joshua looked between the cabins and saw that he was just past the first tent. Outside it, he saw the first group of guys that were dressed in tactical gear.

Moving between the cabins and using trees as cover, he crossed Elkins Rd and stopped when he was still several yards away. Getting on his knees, he pulled his vest off, then his jacket and wrapped it around his waist. Putting the vest back on, he realized it was an easy fifty degrees but it actually felt warm compared to his jacket. Knowing that was the best he could do for now, Joshua moved beside the road up to Reeder Bay Rd and stopped again. Hearing a vehicle coming, he dropped down. As white as his skin was, Joshua thought he might glow in the night.

When the vehicle had passed, he lifted his head and saw it approaching the roadblock that the forestry vehicles made. Not waiting or caring, Joshua darted across the road and fell into the ditch on the other side. Scrambling into the trees, it was getting harder to make his legs work.

Through sheer will alone, he moved up the hill he’d left King and the mule on. When he reached King, Joshua dropped to his knees and fell on his back, shivering so bad that his vision was wobbling. With inhuman effort, he pulled off his boots and pants. With only his tactical vest left, he pulled it off and crawled to King.

On the back of the saddle rolled up like a bedroll were the two wool blankets he’d worked on at the dugout. On one side, he’d sewn fishing net and had cut up some of the A-Tac camo and some of his own in strips, tying it to the net to make a ghillie blanket. Then on the other side, he’d sewn an emergency heating blanket.

Falling to the ground and wrapped up in the ghillie blanket, Joshua remembered the day that Chris had shown him one. It wasn’t until he’d made these and had carried one outside and covered up King with it that he’d believed they worked. Looking through the thermal scope, King had looked like his body had completely disappeared.

Knowing that he couldn’t stay there, Joshua stood up and wrapped the blanket around him, hearing the shiny heating blanket crinkle. Grabbing his gear with numb hands, Joshua hung it on the mule, only keeping his M4. Climbing in the saddle barefoot and naked, Joshua pulled the other blanket off and draped it over his legs.

It didn’t take long to realize that it also trapped King’s body heat. Spreading the one over his shoulders out to catch more of King’s body heat, Joshua kicked King in the side and guided him north. When he crossed Granite Creek, Joshua pulled his bare feet up, not wanting any water to touch them.

It took an hour for his feet to get feeling back in them. Wanting to go to sleep, Joshua pushed on until he reached Watson Mountain. Climbing off King, Joshua tied him to a tree and pulled his backpack off the mule. He dug out more clothes and dressed. Pulling out some heat tabs, Joshua grabbed his boots. Making a tent with one of the ghillie blankets, he put his boots under it and lit a heat tab, placing it beside them. 

Taking his sleeping bag off of his pack, he crawled inside. Looking through the breaks in the trees, he could see small spots of the lake. Grabbing his wet pants, Joshua pulled out the plastic bag with the camera and sighed, relieved to see that it was still dry. Tossing the pants in with the boots, Joshua lit another heat tab and put it in the make-shift tent.

Pulling the camera out of the bag, he turned it on and played what he recorded. Joshua had started carrying one of these years ago when they’d gotten so cheap. When he’d first arrived at the dugout and before he’d shaved, he had made a recording, in case things didn’t go his way.

Watching what he’d recorded, Joshua thought that it was either going to be seen as very foolish or very bold. To be honest, he didn’t care. They’d fucked with his family. It could be said that the feds were threatening his family when they’d gone after his livelihood and that would be correct. But to kidnap his son just to get to him, the government, which forced him to pay ridiculous taxes, had gone too far.

When Joshua got the warning from William that Ben had sent, he’d made the choice to fight back and not run. Kidnapping his son had turned the war; hiding and running wasn’t part of the plan anymore. Now, he would take the fight to them and kill as many as he could. From now on, he would film it just to show them that it was him, Joshua Anderson, the one they’d tried to kill just to take what he had built.

Feeling better, Joshua dug in his pack and pulled out the radio. Before he’d gone to sleep after killing that man in the RV, he’d heard the call go out for the search teams to get picked up. Joshua knew only twenty teams had gone out today and he knew where they’d been dropped off at. The other teams were staying back, along with those returning to get some kind of special training.

Thinking of that, Joshua chuckled, “You’re about to get some training. Looking for me out there in the mountains while I’m crawling around you here in your command area. Now you will know that I can show up anywhere.” Glancing at his watch and seeing it was 0310, Joshua set his alarm to vibrate and leaned back.

At six, he sat up when he felt his wrist vibrating. Pushing the button and turning off the alarm, he slowly stood up stretching as King leaned over with his head, nudging him. “Okay, hold on,” Joshua said and checked his boots feeling they were still damp, but the pants were dry. Putting another heat tab in, Joshua pulled a small bag of feed off of the mule.

Pulling out the feed bags, he filled them and put one on King and the other on the mule. Folding the empty bag up, Joshua carefully walked to his sleeping bag since he was still barefoot. Knowing the teams out were to report via radio between 0630 and 0700, Joshua pulled out his notepad and set it down.

Grabbing the M4, he broke it down and cleaned it before putting it back together. Hearing the radio start to come to life, he picked up his notepad and pen. Over the next thirty minutes, he got the location of fourteen of the twenty teams out. This shocked him that so many that went out had made contact. Then, when someone asked about the others that didn’t report in, a woman came over and said they had contacted by satellite phone.

To Joshua, that could only mean that the teams that were out had some knowledge of moving in the woods. When the man asked about team eighty-one, the woman reported that there was still no contact. “You’ll be waiting a while on those,” he said to himself and pulled out the map as the woman gave the location of the teams that had called by satellite phone.

Looking at the radio, “Thank you,” Joshua said and started marking locations.

Most were below Lamb Creek but one was near his cabin, which they still hadn’t reported finding. The team was just west of Blacktail Mountain. Another team was near Upper Priest Lake, looking for him and team eighty-one.

Folding the map up, Joshua put it away and dug out the cellphone William had given him. Glancing at his watch, Joshua took a deep breath and turned it on. As the phone woke up, he grabbed the camera and pulled out the memory card, putting it in the phone.

When the screen came on, he saw he had an excellent signal up on the mountain. Pressing the internet button, he put the web address to his favorite alternate news site and tapped the contact button. In the message box, he typed, ‘You will want to watch this.’ Next, he attached the video he took last night and hit send.

When the message said ‘done’, Joshua turned off the phone. Putting it up, he moved over and checked on his boots. Happy they were finally dry, he grabbed some socks and put them on. Packing up quickly, he put the vest on and it was still damp enough to send shivers through him.

Taking out his camera, Joshua looked at his watch. Chris had shown him and Ben how they could use the alarm function on a battery operated clock as a detonator. After Chris blew up a tree showing them it worked, Chris even gave them each a dozen of the clocks. Never believing he would use them, Joshua had just left the box of them at the cabin. When he’d emptied the cabin, those clocks were the first things he’d packed.

At two minutes till eight, Joshua pulled out the camera and looked toward the resort. He felt bad about the people that worked there, but as far as he was concerned, they were collaborators. No announcement had been on the FM radio about them all leaving.