The Independents (30 page)

Terri wearily
sat on Bishop’s
lap
. She sniffed a few times and
sighed deeply. She looked up at the stars and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She looked at
Bishop and then pointed skyward.
“There, by the way, is Orion’s Belt. I promised you the other day we would find it. I didn’t have anything to do after you left to get Samantha, so I got out the book and found it.”

It took Bishop a while to finally see what Terri was pointing at. She was always so much better than he at abstract things, like connecting the dots of stars.

Bishop reflected,
“The ancient people must have been very bored most of the time
,
Terri. To sit at night and look up at the sky and find those combinations, make up those shapes and
create
legends out of just a few pinpoints of light. I wouldn’t have been much help to them
.
I just don’t have the imagination
,
I guess.”

The couple sat and looked up at the stars, pointing and enjoying the view of the ultra-clear Tex
as night. The change helped calm Terri’s mind.

“Okay
,
Bishop, we need to finish this conversation. What do you want to do?”

“I want to go back to the ranch as soon as possible. I want everything to be like it was two days ago before we heard that airplane. Unfortunately, that’s impossible. We have David and Samantha to think about, as well as
the Colonel
.”

“What about his files here? What about the
president
and civil war and all that?”

“I thought we were in agreement that was bullshit?”

Terri jumped off his lap and pointed her finger at him again.
“Ohhhh no
,
you don’t
,
Bishop. Nope, no way,” Terri replied
,
shaking her head. “You are not going to put that on me
,
mister. I never said you couldn’t go. I’m just mad this fell on your head like this.”

Bishop
chose his next words carefully.
“Terri, I don’t know how I would get to Bliss.
The route goes right through
El Paso, and everything we have heard indicates that’s not the place to be these days. Even if I went around El Paso, I would imagine Fort Bliss is locked down tighter than a fly’s ear.”

Terri started to speak when a distant popping noise interrupted her. Before she could even ask what the noise was, Bishop was moving, “Fu
ck! Those are shots! G
et the k
ids,
get your rifle
,
and get
everyone into our room. I am going to see what is going on.”

Terri started to say
,
“Be careful,” but Bishop was already gone.

Bishop rushed to his room and grabbed his equipment. It took him a few moments
to
switch to a full fighting load. He attached his night vision onto his rifle, verified everything was secured
,
and jogged out into the night air.
He could see Terri, Betty and the kids heading to the room as he left.

Others had heard the shots
,
and a
group of men was
gathering
on Main
Street.
Bishop ran up and found Pete pointing west toward the roadblock. More
individual
shots sounded, followed
closely by a long rattle of automatic weapons fire.

Bishop asked, “Do the guys manning the roadblock have auto weapons?”

One of the men answered nervously,
“No – someone from the outside is shooting.”

A pickup truck started its engine nearby and quickly pulled up to the group of men. Bishop recognized the driver from the town meeting earlier in the day. All of the men started climbing into the bed, handing up their weapons as the
y
pulled themselves
into the back of the truck
.

Another single shot, followed by a rattle of automatic fire
sounded
in the distance.

Bishop shook his head, “I don’t think
this is
a good idea.”

One of the men looked up and protested,
“We have to
help ’em
…everyone swore they
’d
come and help if there was trouble.”

Bishop thought for a moment, “You men stay here and spread out. Don’t let them into town. I’ll ride out and help our men. I have an or
ange glow stick. I
f you see an orange light, don’t shoot us coming back.”

The intensity of the shooting down the road
was increasing
as Bishop climbed into the
passenger side of the cab. He told the driver to turn off his headlights, and grabbed the wheel using the night vision to steer. The men of Meraton started spreading out as the truck sped off.

Bishop had the driver stop about a quarter of a mile from whe
re the roadblock had been put in place
. The shooting was louder now
,
and he could see the twinkle of muz
zle flashes
in the distance.

He told the driver to turn around and go back halfway to town, shut off the truck and keep a sharp eye out for anyone not wearing an orange glow stick. The driver nodded and quickly did as Bishop asked.

Bishop moved off of the road about 100 meters and then
turned
toward the roadblock. He found a slight rise in the terrain and took cover behind what was a small knoll rising from the desert floor. He was sca
nning with his night vision
,
trying to grasp the tactical situation in front of him
,
when a noise very close-by made him freeze.

He moved only his eyes slightly to the side and made out three men moving toward the road not more than ten feet away
.
They were going to step on his rifle if they kept going.
Bishop thought there were
only two Meraton men guarding the road. He didn’t think anyone else from the town would be out here, but he didn’t want to get into a fight with
allies
. When the men were less than five feet away, they stopped and crouched down. Bishop thought at first they had seen him, but they stayed put.

As slowly as his could, Bishop moved his arm and reached for his flashlight mounted on his vest. While the light was small in size, the LED bulbs were very bright and he hoped he could reach it without the men’s eyes detecting the movement. After his hand closed around the handle of the light, he gradually shifted his weight to one side so as to unhook and remove the torch.

Again, moving only his eyes, he checked to see wh
at
the three men were doing and could make out their heads scanning from side to side.
They are either waiting on someone or something to happen.
Another exchange of shots occurred down on the road, and Bishop used the noise rolling across the desert floor to click off his rifle’s safety.

The men were to his right and the M4 was in his right hand, flashlight in his left
.
In one motion, Bishop rolled onto his left side whil
e swinging the rifle around one-
handed
ly
. His left hand hit the switch on the light
,
and he pointed it at the stunned men only a few feet away.

As the light swung an arch caused by Bishop’s rolling motion, it crossed the faces of three men, all holding MP5 submachine guns. The light
in their eyes
caused them
to raise their arms
and turn their heads and that ga
ve Bishop the time he
needed. His
rifle started barking at pointblank range, and hit its mark even t
hough he could manage only one hand on his M4
. He kept
firing until all three men were down,
turned off the light
,
and quickly moved away from the knoll. He hadn’t traveled three strides away when the gr
ound where he had been lying erupted
in small geysers of sand caused by
the impact of incoming rounds
.
They had been waiting
on someone.
How many Columbians are
here
? What are they doing
?

Bishop had now lost the element of surprise. He was up against an unknown number of foes
,
and although he didn’t believe they had night vision, he couldn’t be sure.
Z
igzagg
ing
away from the knoll
, he could hear voices behind him.
He was trying to lure them away from the roadblock and
gain a little breathing room. A small outcropping of scrub and cactus was the first cover he could see
,
and
he dove
behind it.

He used the night vision to scan behind him and could not see anyone following him. He breathed deeply and as quietly as possible
. He used the moment to take a long pull from his water
bladder.
He hadn’t drawn any of the attackers
off and needed time to
determine the next move.

Estebon was not happy.
It had taken his men most of the next day to recover from the
rescue
of the girl and the ensuing firefight
. They had to find new shelter for their families
since the hotel could no longer be occupied. They initially searched the smoking ruins for car keys, but gave up and hotwired the remaining vehicles.
There had also been
the
wounded to attend to.
As soon as the first truck was
running, he had sent two of his best to scout Meraton. They were not to make contact, nor allow themselves to be discovered
, only to gather information
.

He had calculated that Bishop would
head directly
to the safety of the town with the girl. No doubt, the injured man from the plane crash was
t
her
e as well – if he still lived. Estebon’s
men had scouted the town and
reported back that
the Hummer
was
indeed parked at the hotel.

His plan
tonight
had been to draw some of the town’s men out to the roadblock and then
spring an
ambush
.
His c
aptain had carefully set up a fishhook
shaped
formation
,
and all of the men had been in place without the two sleepy fools on the road even knowing anyone was around. On
ce
the signal had been given, a few random bursts of fire were sent toward the roadblock while most of his men wait
ed
for
the rescue
rs
from the town
to fall into the trap
.

Estebon could only guess who had blown their ambush
.
This gringo
,
Bishop was beginning to get under his skin
,
and every single man that had done that
before had
met tragic deaths. As Estebon and the captain
sat
on the
roof of a park service truck with their binoculars, runners were sent to change everyone’s position. Three more of his men were now dead
, their bodies lying in the back of one of the trucks
.
The c
aptain had
sent
instruct
ions for
half of
the
ir force to encircle
the roadblock and kill the two guards.
All of the
remaining
men were
to hunt Bishop.

Bishop could tell something was going on, but couldn’t get a clear picture in
his mind. He could make out some
movem
ent through the night vision
in the distance, but even with the light gathering
device,
it
just
wasn’t clear what was
happening
.
No matter what it is, I need to move.

His instincts
told him to head back toward
town, but he remembered the promise made to the two guards
and couldn’t leave them behind
. When a sudden volley of fire
appeared in
the area of the roadblock, he knew th
ey
were still alive, but
probably pinned down. From the volume of fire being leveled at the roadblock, Bishop guessed there were at least six or seven shooters.
He had taken out three, so there had to be at least two cars or trucks parked around somewhere. He guessed that was where the head of this snake would be located.
He moved to cut off that head.

He tried to remember as much about the surrounding countryside as he co
uld, but really had not paid much
attention. He decided to risk r
a
ising up to see if he could locate the
position of the vehicles. H
e raised the rifle and looked
through the starlight scope,
immediately
ducking
back down. A line of men was approaching his position. There were
at
least five of them
, probably more
.

Bishop thought about
Estebon and his Special Forces C
aptain. They had
clearly brought most of their people to
Mer
aton
,
and he
imagined
the reason
had a lot to do with him.
Even with the advanced warning, this number of
skilled
attackers
c
ould do a lot of damage to the town, perhaps even take it over. At minimum, several of the
townspeople
would die. The fact that Terri and the baby were there was the final straw – he had to break
up
this attack
out here,
regardless of the risk.

There was no way he could take on the number of men moving toward him in open terrain and
with
no cover. Bishop figured he could get two of three of them, but the rest would close and shoot him down. He was so badly outnumbered his only chance was to make them fight on his terms
or get around them
.

He took one last look at the hunters approaching his position. They were moving his general direction cautiously, with two or three covering while other
s
edged
forward
a few steps
. They kept
repeating the process over and over again.
Their caution reassured him a little.
I think they
’re
a little worried about me.

Bishop, bending to keep low, ran away as fast as he could. After he had
gained
a little distance, he slowed his pace and studied the landscape
in front of
him. This was the last place on e
arth to be outnumbered in a gun
fight.
He had been moving through an area of
random patches of scrub and short cactus,
but in front of him was nothing but
flat hardpan sand. There wasn
’t a gully or significant
alter
ation for
hundreds of yards.
He would be easy to spot crossing this open area even if his pursuers didn’t have night vision.
He might as well turn around and face the approaching killers like a gunfighter at high noon in the old west. The thought struck him
as humorous because he knew gun
fights in the old west were actually very, very rare.
After pondering that action for a few moments and feeling the chill that went down his spine, he understood why.
No matter, it wasn’t time for drastic actions just yet.