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“Good points both.  No, unfortunately we probably need to hit this one squarely.  I think this is where Karen’s “block moms” might come in handy.  Kyle, could you please find Eric and Karen?”

“Absolutely, be right back.”  Ramirez replied.  He also thought to himself, and only to himself, that she’d called him Kyle, not Ramirez.  She hadn’t done that, even with protocol suspended, since they’d both gotten falling down drunk the night his father passed away nine years ago.

“KB, organize the communications teams and get them on the road.  I want them moving in thirty minutes or less.  You will not be going, I need you here.”

“Understood, they’ll be on their way as soon as physically possible, sooner in some cases.  I may need my other foot.”  With that, he was gone out of the tent, not that they couldn’t hear him bark to one of the men in his squad.

It was almost five minutes before Ramirez came back with both Karen and Eric, as Eric had been both a little harder to find since he’d been on patrol and then he’d insisted on cleaning up.  “Sorry it took so long, Mallory, Eric here didn’t think he was clean enough for your presence apparently.  He comes to bed without a shower but won’t come to the command tent without changing clothes.”  Karen elbowed Eric in the side, but winked at Mallory.

“Tell you what, I’ll order him to the command tent every night at about 9:30, maybe then you’ll get a clean boyfriend in bed from now on.”

“Deal!”

Eric was rolling his eyes in Ramirez’s direction when he realized that nobody else in the room was really getting into the ribbing.  “Ok, what’s up?  If Morris’ jaw clenches any tighter he’s gonna need new molars.”

Morris made a concerted effort to relax is mouth, and commented that ‘there was a reason he hadn’t gone into intelligence’, something about wearing his heart on his sleeve and his emotions too openly.

Mallory called over to Corporal Pine in the communications tent again and had him replay the recording for Karen and Eric.  Hearing it again didn’t do anything for anyone’s mood, and Karen looked like she wanted to act out several of the more inventive ideas that Ramirez had come up with.

“Karen, take a breath.  If you pass out, I
will
dunk your head in a bucket of ice water,” Mallory said matter of factly.  “Better.  Now, this happened about fifteen minutes ago, and we need to address it, soonest.  We aren’t going to hide it and we aren’t going to sugar-coat it.  A bunch of folks out there had heard of Pete before they joined up with us, some even joined because of him.  Everybody has heard of him since they came in.

“Word will get out no matter what, and we don’t want to look like we’re hiding anything because we aren’t.  What do you think of using the ‘block moms’, Karen?”

“That was actually going to be my suggestion once you got me thinking instead of reacting.  We don’t have phones, and we still haven’t set up a radio station yet, so that was one of the things we figured they could be responsible for--passing on information reliably.”

“Alright then, that’s settled.  Let’s get to writing it.”

…

Once the statement was finished and typed up, it was printed out and distributed.  They had decided they would go ahead and continue to use laptop computers and inkjet printers as they both consumed less power than their desktop and laser counterparts.  The statement was very simple:

“Today, July 28
^th
, at approximately 15:19, or 3:19 pm, Sergeant Keeler and Ms. Sheri Hines, after meeting with a group claiming to have a desire to join the Natchez Trace Guardianship, were ambushed.  At present, the following information is known or assumed:

·
        
There appeared to be a single assailant who waited until after the meeting was over.

·
        
Sergeant Keeler was struck in the head and rendered unconscious at the scene.

·
        
Ms. Hines was abducted by the single assailant.

·
        
Ms. Hines was able to transmit her conversation with her abductor.

·
        
Ms. Hines tentatively identified her abductor as the individual calling himself ‘Peter the Great’.

·
        
Ms. Hines may have also been struck by the assailant, but that is not known for certain at this time.

·
        
Sergeant Keeler was left at the scene by the assailant when he abducted Ms. Hines.

·
        
Sergeant Keeler regained consciousness a short time later and radioed in, corroborating a brief portion of events.  He has been treated by medics, and is being transported back.

·
        
Everything possible at this time is being done, and more is being planned and will be done, to rescue Ms. Hines.

As soon as any additional information is known, it will be made available.”

The reactions ranged from fear and anger to despair.  Some feared for Sheri, while others feared for themselves.  Some were angry at Peter, while others were angry at the Guardsmen who had failed to protect her, and in their own minds, themselves. 

Some reactions were a bit deeper than those.  One reaction in particular couldn’t actually be classified.  Chuck had helped organize the “block moms” when Karen first had the idea, and as more groups joined them they had proven their value a number of times.  He’d seen Paula, one of the original “block moms”, waving the red and white checked flag-- that he was still sure had come from a tablecloth--so he headed over to the gathering group to hear what she had to say.  It was amazing how quickly they could pass information without phones or a radio station when they needed to.

Then he’d heard about the ambush, about Keeler, Sheri getting hit by Pete.  He was sure Sheri’d said something and he’d hit her, just as he was sure it was in fact Pete, and it was like a switch had tripped inside.  Different people describe it different ways; for some, it’s a physical sensation, and for others it’s purely mental.  Some people describe it as ice water running down their spine, or over every square inch of their body.  Others say it’s like an electric shock.  Some people feel like every nerve is exposed or on fire.  Some people say it’s an incredible calm, and everything takes on an unnatural clarity, like the first time they saw an HD movie.  Still others claim that they have a heightened sense of awareness, almost a fifth sense.

What is that ubiquitous ‘it’ that people talk about?  Sometimes ‘it’ meant snapping, going over the edge, or losing ‘it’--being the guy in the bell-tower, so to speak.  Sometimes ‘it’ meant being in the zone; you could do anything, mothers lifting cars off of their children, or athletes becoming unstoppable on the basketball court for just one game.  Chuck both lost ‘it’ and ‘got in the zone’ at the same time, in an instant.  In the future, when he really thought about it, he would swear he heard a click and felt a rush of heat course throughout his body.  He’d been pretty sure that was just adrenaline keeping his heart from stopping. 

But the world slowed down at that point too, and unlike some people’s experience, while edges were much sharper, colors were dull.  And, oh yeah, he was furious; in a seething, white-hot rage.  He had heard the term before, but never understood it until now.  He’d been pissed before, plenty of times, but never so mad, so furious, so over the top that it threatened to take him over completely.

“ERIC!” Chuck called to get Eric’s attention over by the Army command tent.  When Eric turned around and saw Chuck he held up his hand to wait a minute, finished a brief conversation, and then came trotting over.

“Chuck, I’m so sorry, I was actually one of the last to know before they typed up the ‘Press Release’.”

“Man, I’m not mad at you, I just want to know if there is anything, and I mean
anything
I can do, right now, or later, here, there, over there, way over there, whatever, to get Sheri back.  I don’t want this to go on long.  And if you can tell me anything to keep me from going off half cocked, please do Eric, because right now I’m wound about as tight as a cheap watch, and I’ve known for all of thirty seconds.”

“Chuck, I don’t know anything for sure, honest I don’t.  We really don’t know where Sheri is, nobody does yet.  But if I were you, I’d get a hold of a grid map and a radio, and listen in on CB19 and SAT46 so you at least know what’s going on.  What are you packing?”

“Taurus .45 1911, 8+1, Ranger SXTs, why?”

Eric closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “You know why, Chuck.  Please don’t do anything stupid.  You’re a grown man and she’s a grown woman, and although neither of you has said anything most of us here aren’t blind.  I’m not asking you to stay out of it, because I know you won’t, but don’t do something dumb, please.”

Chuck blinked, “Neither of us?  C’mon, Eric, I really don’t think it’s a two-way street.”

Eric snorted and shook his head, “Ok, you can go ahead and do dumb things as long as you limit them to phrases like that.  Yeah, Chuck, neither of you, as in the two of you, as in Sheri and Chuck, the two people in the relationship who don’t know they’re in the relationship.  Man, you need to settle down for a bit, nothing’s going to happen for a couple of hours at the very least, possibly a couple of days.”

“KB’s got it covered if they try to call in again to set up another meeting.  We should be able to pinpoint their position to within 500 meters and then swoop in like the wrath of God, or in this case, the wrath of Top.  If you drink, find a drink, if you don’t, go get a pill from the medics and try to get some sleep.  You’re a little closer to the situation than you’re willing to admit and you’re going to need your wits about you later on.  I’m saying this as a friend, Chuck, please stand down man.”

“Ok, ok, I’ll take the day off, after I get that radio and the map.  Not that I remember where I heard I should get one,” Chuck nodded as he turned around and headed off to the quartermaster.

He is so gonna do something stupid and heroic…and stupid.
Eric shook his head.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“What were you thinking?” The oldest of the three current representatives of the pothead group he’d attached himself to demanded.  “Are you insane!?  That’s the U.S. Army you just pissed off, man!”

“Shut your mouth and show some respect,” Pete said around a joint, which he was now chain smoking like gas-station cigarettes. “I don’t have to explain myself to you or anyone else, ever.  If you don’t like something I’ve done, you are free to leave at any time.”  When he said that, though, his eyes got just a bit wider, and it was obvious from the gleam in his eye that anyone who left would be doing so feet first.

“Do you have any further plans, then?” The next oldest asked.  He was in his middle thirties and a little less stupid, as he hadn’t been doing drugs quite as long.  “Just asking--not making any judgments.”

“Yeah, you’re going to call them tomorrow, just like we planned, and set up another meeting, just like planned, and pretend you had nothing to do with it, because you didn’t.  Roach-clip here can even go along and be all up-in-arms about how upset he is, just as long as he keeps his mouth shut about knowing anything about me.  It’ll make the whole thing more believable if it’s sincere.”

Sheri was handcuffed to what looked like a heavy-duty towel rack in the kitchenette area, but otherwise completely comfortable, and actually finding the entire situation rather amusing.  Pete was stoned out of his mind, acting like he was the king of the potheads, and apparently thought that this was a good idea.  She was literally biting her tongue to keep from laughing at the whole thing.  When she wasn’t thinking about how screwed up the situation was, that is.

He does have a gun after all, and although I haven’t seen him use it yet, I don’t know that he won’t.
  Sheri was very careful to think to herself and not mutter. 
I sincerely hope that tonight doesn’t go like I’m afraid it might.  One thing at a time girl, one thing at a time.

“In the meantime, what are we going to do with her?” Less stupid asked.

“
We
aren’t going to do anything with her.  Like I said, you didn’t have anything to do with bringing her here, and you won’t have anything to do with her other than making sure that she gets food just like everyone else.  Plausible deniability my friend.  Speaking of food, what’s for dinner?  I’m hungry, I haven’t eaten since lunch.”  Pete snickered, and then started to giggle, and within a few seconds he was yipping like a hyena.  Pete was apparently a munchy-giggly pothead.

After almost a minute, tears streaming down his face, he stopped laughing and looked at the three still standing in front of him.  “Well, what the hell are you still standing here for?  I said I’m hungry!”  Pete roared.  He was also apparently an obnoxious-jackass-mean pothead too…great.  Eenie, Meenie, and Miney, as Sheri had just decided to start thinking of them, filed out in reverse order of age.  What a motley crew they made.  How in the world did the little hippie societies like this that continually sprang up ever survive long enough to reproduce?

“C’mere Sheri.”

“That’s gonna be a little tough, Mr. Great, sir.”

“Watch your tone, bitch.”

“Watch your mouth, Pete.  You don’t own me and you have to sleep sometime.  Call me bitch again and unless you do it from across the room and then shoot me dead, it’ll be one of the biggest mistakes you’ve ever made, regardless of what it costs me in the long run.”

“Fine, please come over here then, I want to look at you.”

“Thank you for saying please Pete, but again, that’s going to be a little difficult handcuffed to the wall as I am.  And Pete, that’s a little sick.  I’ve been here for an hour.  You don’t really believe that I’m going to just roll over and be your little slave do you?  I mean really?”  Sheri said.

“This isn’t a fantasy role playing game Pete!  I’m a human being, and a strong willed one at that.”  Sheri wasn’t sure why she was taking this tack with Pete at this point, but she didn’t want to just let it go.  She was starting to get mad again.  “This is real life, and contrary to what you think, you can’t do whatever you like.  Not everyone is afraid of you, I mean think about it, only one of the three who just left was afraid of you, the other two are just keeping their mouths shut because they aren’t as stupid as the one who
is
afraid.  For heavens sake, Pete, you’re using a
revolver
when everyone else is using a semi-automatic; assuming everyone in the world is an equal on the battlefield, everyone else has more bullets in their gun than you do!  You aren’t even playing it smart!”