Terror At Dawn

NINETEEN

The daylight was starting to fade when the first glitch appeared. Hank Greenfield came up to Tombstone and said quietly, “A word, if you will.” Tombstone followed him out away from the rest of the agents.

“What’s up?”

Greenfield shook his head. “The Air National Guard elements won’t support us. Said they’re worried about this federal pursuit issue. That last robbery from the reserve center shook them up some, and they’re claiming that we don’t have any intelligence about what we’re facing. Their CO said it’s too risky for the helicopters to commit.”

Tombstone swore quietly. “Why didn’t they tell us before?”

“They said they just found out themselves. Evidently the war is being fought back in D.C. as well. Seems not everyone approves of the President’s idea.” Greenfield shot him a look that said, “And neither do I.”

“Then we’ll move without the helicopters,” Tombstone said.

“Not a good idea. We can lose them too easily in the hills in this terrain. I recommend we reschedule until we can firm up the intelligence and air support.”

Tombstone studied him for a moment. Greenfield knew what it was to move in on a position like this without adequate intelligence. That had been his downfall at Bull Run. Under normal circumstances, Tombstone would have agreed to reschedule the mission.

But these weren’t normal circumstances. Somewhere in this area was a large stash of weapons and ammunition and rocket launchers, and they needed to be eliminated immediately.

Tombstone’s legal advisor had suggested halfheartedly that they apply for a search warrant, but hadn’t pressed the issue. They all knew the odds of getting any state or federal judge to issue a warrant when the whole issue of Fourth Amendment rights and hot pursuit ran smack up against posse commitatus. After Bull Run, any judge would probably want to see stone tablets carried by Moses before he signed off on a search warrant.

“So we’ll cover both the trucks and Carter’s HQ ourselves,” Tombstone said.

“Aren’t you listening to me? If we break off assets to cover the trucks, we won’t have enough people to adequately cover Carter’s HQ. And we’re likely to lose the trucks in the hills. Both ends of this will be catastrophes.”

“So we get some more people,” Tombstone said.

“Can they get here in fifteen minutes?”

“No.”

“Then they might as well not get here.”

“How long will it take us to get there?” Tombstone asked.

“Around two hours, maybe a little more. As long as the weather holds,” Greenfield answered, glancing up at the sky. “The prediction says scattered thundershowers. That’ll complicate everything, of course.”

“And may ground our airpower anyway. Look. I know what you’re saying, and I don’t want another Bull Run any more than you do. But it’s time to rock and roll. Get everybody packed up and set a covert watch around Carter’s HQ. Sooner or later, he’s going to go to the trucks or they will come to him. That buys us a little time, enough to get the air problem and manpower problem solved.”

“And if they don’t head for HQ?”

“Then we concentrate on Carter. Cut the head off the snake.” A sudden thought occurred to Tombstone. “Get me a cell phone. I think I may have an answer to our airpower problem.”

After two hours of winding their way along treacherously narrow roads, the truck pulled into a clearing. Except for the narrow access road with overhanging trees, the area was surrounded by sharp peaks and rugged terrain.

Mertz pulled in and backed the truck up to a pile of brush. Jackson hopped out and started hauling it away. Mertz shut the truck down and joined him. Fifteen minutes later, they’d cleared away the entrance to a small opening in the rock.

“Let’s get it all out,” Jackson said. He grabbed a case of ammo and slid in through the opening. At first, it appeared to be no more than a narrow crevasse in the cliff, but ten feet later it widened into an open cavern of around five hundred square feet. It was dry and smelled of old dirt. Cases of MREs and bottled water were stacked neatly along one side, sleeping bags and packs along another. Jackson picked a space near the entrance and set the crate down. Thirty minutes later, the two men had unloaded all the weapons and ammo. They stopped for a moment to admire their handiwork.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Mertz said finally. “Seems a shame to leave it here.”

“Yeah.” Jackson grabbed a rocket launcher and slung it over his shoulder. “Find some rounds for this.”

“I thought it was all ’sposed to stay here. That’s what your daddy said.”

“Change of plans.” Jackson patted the rocket launcher fondly. “These babies pack a round that will take out an armored vehicle. They’re a lot more effective than what we’ve got if we have to deal with any pursuit problems.”

“What kind of pursuit problems?” Mertz asked suspiciously. “There weren’t nobody following us.”

“And we’re going to keep it that way.”

“But your daddy—”

“I’m on-scene commander. I’ll deal with him when we get back to HQ. And this little baby will make sure that we do.”