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Joel whistled softly.  “Have we heard back from him yet?”

“No, nothing, but I’m not surprised.  It took us a day to start transmitting and I wouldn’t expect him to take much less than that to send something back.  Once we’ve started talking I sincerely hope our communications pick up the pace though.  I’m not accustomed to waiting a day for a reply during what amounts to a phone conversation.”

“So, what exactly do you need
me
for again, then?” Joel asked.

“I need your take on this as a civilian.”

At Joel’s questioning look Mallory went on.  “Put yourself in Clint’s shoes as much as you can.  You’ve put this group together and you’ve justified everything you’ve done up to this point.  You now have forty-one of your adults out on a raiding, or reconnaissance, or whatever trip and it turns out that your objective was the U.S. Army.  Now what?  What’s going through your head?”

“Aside from a slug from my own gun?” Joel chuckled.  “Unless he’s certifiable I’ve got to think that thought’s crossed his mind.  We haven’t told him that he’s inflicted any casualties on us, nor have we informed him of his ability to increase the food rations for his people.  Frankly, that’s going to piss him off.”

“Explain,” Mallory said noncommittally.

“Well, if he’s justified everything he’s done up to this point and all we
know
about is the theft, he feels he’s in the right.  A 1-for-8 or 1-for-9 trade in people is
not
going to sit well with him and Troy isn’t even dead?  Did we have to shoot all those people?  Did we have to shoot to kill?  If the one we injured dies did we really do everything we could to save them?  Those are just the first couple of questions to come to mind.”

“Ok, fair enough.  Go on.”

“Next he has to wonder if we are going to be looking to aggress him in the future.  What is our end game?  Will we be constantly watching him to make sure he doesn’t get too big or become a real threat?  If we’re going to peacefully co-exist, how to we go about, oh, I don’t know,” Joel was at a loss for words, “recruiting isn’t right, but bringing in the refugees that are going to be roaming around eventually.  We really don’t need to be bad-mouthing each other if we’re going to be so close--not when negotiations are down to ‘food and firearms’.”

“Joel, you are so depressing,” Mallory said.

“Duh, hello, clinically depressed,” Joel waved his hand like he was trying to get her attention.  “Was on medication up until a week and a half ago.  That’s life though, Mal.  You didn’t ask him to attack us and you
sure
as heck didn’t tell him shoot at us.”

…

“I didn’t ask for this, any of this,” Clint said to Cooper, Tony, Shane, and Frank under the awning in front of his trailer.  They were all sitting down, for once, after dinner on the 26th, the day they had received the broadcast from the Army.

“Maybe not but you stepped up and took the lead when it mattered.” Shane said.  “You’ve got it now and unless you’re ready to step down and walk away, and I mean completely away, I don’t think anyone else is willing to take over.”

Clint stole a glance at Coop who didn’t even flinch.  Good, maybe he’ll keep his head down for a while and I can deal with one mess at a time.  Aloud he said, “We have to respond.  If nothing else, they’ve got almost half the adults--and a bunch of them are parents.”  There had been a couple of cases where both the husband and wife were on the raiding party, but not if they’d had any kids.  Clint had put his foot down when it came to the possibility of creating instant orphans if he could help it.

“I’m going to radio tomorrow morning and open some sort of dialog.”  Clint sounded resigned to the fact but still ready to put up a fight.  “I still don’t know what I’m going to say but I can’t put it off any longer than that.  I’d call tonight but I figure at least one person on the call should get some sleep beforehand.”

“How bad can it be, boss?” Tony said.

…

“This is gonna be bad, I can just tell,” Mallory said as she walked to the communications tent.  All three of her platoon Sergeants were in tow, as were the civilian contingent that had accompanied the Armory to the park, and the now ever-present Ramirez.

“Why do you say that?” Kyle asked.

“When was the last time something like this went well?”

“There’s always a first time.”

 “You’ll forgive me, I’m sure, if I don’t hold my breath while I also wait for the avian swine?”

“Oh I guarantee you, Top, given sufficient force pigs will most assuredly fly.” Kyle replied.

“Judicious application and all that…well, here we are.”  Mallory looked over her entourage and shook her head.  “We aren’t all going to fit in there and frankly we don’t all need to be here.  Everyone but Sergeant Halstead and Joel is dismissed.”

 “Sergeant Wilson, I need a pair of headphones for myself and please put the conversation on speaker--no mic though.” Mallory said as she walked into the tent with Halstead and Joel.

“Roger, already set up for you over here,” Wilson pointed to another chair and headset and flipped a switch to turn on the monitor speakers once she had her headset on.  “We got the first transmission at 8:30.  He’s transmitted twice at 5 minute intervals since.  We should be getting another one in just a minute.”

Right on cue the speakers came to life with the static-click common to CB transmissions.  “This is Clint Baxter calling the U.S. Army base located in Natchez Trace State Park.”  Joel noticed that the voice was the same but, just as Earl had said, the speech wasn’t.  Whatever had been going on that day on the highway had been some sort of act.  He nodded to Mallory.  “Contacting as requested regarding the group sent to Natchez Trace on Twenty Five, June.  Please respond.”

Instead of letting the request linger, this time Mallory replied.  “Mr. Baxter, this is First Sergeant Jensen, U.S. Army.  Can you please verify your identity by providing the number of persons accompanying Mr. Hanson?”  No reason not to at least be polite when telling someone you don’t necessarily believe they are who they say they are.

“I don’t know that I’d ever call Earl Mr. Hanson, but he was accompanied by forty others.”

Good, the man can count, do simple math and follow directions.
  Mallory had dealt with a lot of people who would tell you how many people were in a group instead of answering the question you asked.

“And what color and make of vehicle did Mr. Hanson drive?” Mallory asked, not rising to Clint’s bait about Earl’s moniker.

“Burgundy Chevy Suburban, 2500.”

“We need to talk.” Mallory said.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”

“Yes, it is.  We need to talk face-to-face, though.”

“I assume Murphy paid a visit at some point.  How badly did it go off, if I might ask?” Clint asked.

“I’d rather discuss it in person.”

“Top, I need something to take back to my people!”

Mallory’s eyebrows went up as she glanced over at Wilson and Halstead.  They had both caught it as well.  “Very well, Mr. Baxter.  We attempted to convince your group to surrender prior to any contact being made with the base as a whole.  We were fired upon and took a casualty.”  Mallory had not wanted to say anything about the raid over the air but Clint hadn’t left her any choice.  She hoped that Clint would both understand what she said next and realize why she was saying it the
way
she was saying it and keep his cool until they could meet face-to-face.

“Of the forty-one in the group, nine fired on us unprovoked.  Eight are currently Tango Uniform.  One is recovering from wounds received at the time.”  T-U, Toes Up, one of the ‘nice’ but obscure ways of saying dead in the military.  If he loses it he’s going to do it now.

“They’re WHAT!  What the hell did you people do?”

“Mr. Baxter, we need to talk.  Face-to-face.”

“You’ve got that right!  And I want my people back--all of them!  I’ll be in contact later.  Baxter out!”

…

“What’s Tango Uniform?” Sean asked.

“It means Toes Up, dead.  Of the forty-one people we sent in eight are dead and one is recovering which means whoever it is probably got lucky and they missed the heart.” Clint said absently as he started to pace.

“She said they had one casualty, so one of theirs died at least.” Tony said into the growing silence.

“No, that’s not what that means.  A casualty can actually be an injury, regardless of severity.  It just has to be sustained as a result of action, battle, whatever.” Clint made a dismissive wave with his hand, not at Tony but at the fact that he wouldn’t know the difference between action and battle.

“And don’t take death lightly.”  Clint went on.  “Are you happy they killed one of our people?  Eight?  Maybe nine if the last one doesn’t pull through.  We’ve been together two whole weeks; how hard did you take it when someone on the force got killed?  An Army unit is the same way, Tony, so don’t be so glib and free with the ‘at least’ when talking about killing people.  It’s not a numbers game.”

“So somebody could have tripped leaving the scene and sprained their ankle and that could be their ‘casualty’ and we lost eight or nine people?” Sean asked.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what could have happened, although First Sergeants don’t get as far as they do by embellishing like that for long.”

“Speaking of First Sergeant, why’d you call her Top?” Frank asked.

“What?” Clint spun and took a step towards Frank.  “What did you say?”

Frank looked at the other three and swallowed.  “You called her Top.  You said ‘Top, I need something to take back to my people’ when all she would talk about was a face-to-face meeting.”

“Son of a…” Clint’s fists were turning white from lack of blood.  “Top is a nickname for the First Sergeant in a Company.”  Clint was looking around for something to hit or kick.  “It’s something that you would know if you read a lot of military fiction or maybe science fiction but you wouldn’t say it like I did unless you’d been in the military.  Stupid.”

Clint quit looking for something to vent his anger on and started pacing again.  “It’s not the end of the world.  She probably knows I was prior military, big deal.  I didn’t tip my hand that much but it’s one less advantage.”

…

“So, Mr. Baxter is prior military and most likely Army.  What else did we get out of that little conversation?” Mallory asked.

“He’s less than pleased with the fact that you killed eight of his people.” Joel replied.

“Now now, he didn’t blame me specifically.  He did say ‘you people’.” Mallory said.

“Ok, fine.  He’s mad at all of us then.” Joel replied.  “He went from sounding at least a little reasonable to totally irrational in a matter of seconds.  He wants
all
of his people back.  It was a good call to put the bodies in one of the refrigerator trucks for him, by the way.”

“Thank you, that was actually Morris’s idea but I agree it was a good one.” Mallory had a small smile but it was sad.  “We have no idea how long Clint holds a grudge and either way, it was the right thing to do.  We have no idea how many of those people have families who will want the bodies for a funeral and burial of their own.”

“Either way he’s not taking it well.  He focused on the dead and wants everyone back.  Not entirely unexpected but not the best possible scenario either.” Halstead interjected.

“What’s he thinking, Joel?” Mallory prodded.

“I’d be getting advice.  For as many people as he’s responsible for, he has to be getting help.  I would have had people listening in just like you were.  He’s probably explaining what Tango Uniform means and he may or may not be winding them up about it.”  Joel had his hands in his pockets as he walked in a circle in the tent.

“He wasn’t taking any responsibility for the situation, either.  The fact that things went wrong at all, he blamed that on Murphy.   And then when shots were fired, it was like he ignored or didn’t hear what you said about being fired on unprovoked. 
We
must have done something wrong and then overreacted.  He’s looking for an obvious way to make us the bad guys here and in the absence of that I think he’ll settle for a thinly-veiled excuse.  He doesn’t feel that he’s at fault.”

“How do you propose meeting with him?” Halstead asked.

“In the open but with a minimal guard,” Mallory said.  “I can’t appear afraid of him, because I’m not, but I’m not going to do something overtly stupid either.  It’ll be a place of our choosing and when we get together I think it should be probably three on each side.”

“There’s no way you’re going out with just two other people, Top!” Halstead snapped.

“That isn’t what I said Sergeant” Mallory replied.  “Nor did I get a chance to finish.  I have no doubt that there will be a contingent on both sides and that we can field more and more heavily armed people should we choose.  I meant for the discussion because more than that and we won’t get anything done because everyone will think they have to get a word in edgewise.  If we can keep the numbers that low then Clint and I will most likely do the majority of the talking.”

“Sorry, good point.”

“Forgiven.  I won’t push the man because he’s been dealt a little bit of a shock but I’m not giving him more than eight hours to call us back before I’m going to call him.  He’s a grown man, he’s most likely prior military and he needs to act like he’s in charge, not sulk.

Mallory looked at the two men who’d accompanied her into the communications tent.  “You two are who I’d like to come with me to the table.  Halstead, you don’t have a choice.  Joel, you do, and I would think that Rachael would also have a say in the matter.  Would you please discuss it with Rachael and get back to me as quickly as possible?”

“Of course I’ll do it, er consider it.  I’ll go get permission right now.” Joel was grinning like an idiot.  “This is the most fun I’ve had in a week.”

“To recap, insane,” Mallory shook her head.

“Beats being depressed,” Joel winked as he ducked out of the tent.

Chapter Thirty

“She isn’t going to wait forever and we need to get it out of the way.  They aren’t going anywhere and frankly neither are we.” Clint said.  “Oh we might move around a little as we find a slightly better place to set up permanently, or grab a town that’s been totally abandoned, but this area’s nice.”