Tumultus (5 page)

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Authors: D. W. Ulsterman

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Military

BOOK: Tumultus
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“Talk to me in a few days about that, Mr. Tedlow.  I’m not a gambling man, but if I were, I’m pretty certain you’ll be singing a different tune by then.”

 

Bear took a step onto the porch as he raised both his hands upward and shrugged.  Cooper’s dog let out a low growl at the big man, its eyes glaring toward Bear warning him not to come any closer.

 

Cooper issued a sharp whistle that instantly quieted the dog, his right hand resting gently on its neck.

 

Dublin pointed at the dog.

 

“What kind of dog is that, Mr. Wyse?”

 

Though Dublin had spoken, the dog’s eyes remained fixed on Bear.

 

“He’s a red Doberman.  My grandparents used to breed them years ago.  His name is Brando.  Last of his family…like me.  He just turned seven a few months back.  He’s eyeing you, Mr. Tedlow, because you’re the biggest one of the four of you.  Figures you to be the most potential threat.  He’ll come to trust you in time, but for now, I wouldn’t make any sudden gestures around him.  Brando is about the smartest dog I’ve ever known, but he’s damn protective of me too.  Kinda funny people call you Bear.  Brando here chased one out from behind the barn just last summer. Tore into that big old bear and didn’t let up until the poor bastard was running back up into the hills.  Seems like Brando wants to do the same to you about now.”

 

Mac leaned down and slowly reached his hand out to pat the dog’s head.  Brando sniffed his hand briefly before giving it a lick.

 

“Not too common a dog for Alaska.  Short haired and all, must not handle the winter months too well.”

 

Cooper smiled down at Brando.

 

“Oh, he does all right.  He prefers a good fire for sure, but if we have to be outside during a cold spell, he puts up with it.  Seems to like you well enough, Mac.”

 

Mac shook his head slightly.

 

“Guess that makes him a piss-poor judge of character then.”

 

Mac stood back up and looked from one end of the covered farmhouse porch to the other, before his eyes settled back onto the still seated Cooper Wyse.

 

“So, we heading out first thing in the morning, I suppose?  You told me you had all the supplies we would need for the trip.  Mind if I confirm that about now?  I like to be prepared.”

 

Cooper stood up and pointed toward the large dilapidated barn that sat nearly a hundred yards from the ranch house.  It had been painted red at one time, but only remnants of that paint remained.  Most of the wood was fully exposed and weather aged a dull grey color. 

 

“Supplies are in the barn.  Like I said, everything we’ll need.  And then some.  C’mon, let’s go take a look then.”

 

The four Dominatus survivors followed behind Cooper Wyse as he made the walk to the barn structure with Brando following closely on Cooper’s right side.  The barn’s entrance was a large wooden sliding door that had single metallic lock to keep it secured.  Cooper removed a key from a coat pocket and turned the locking mechanism and then slid the door open.  Inside were six stables likely used to house the horses during the cold Alaskan winter.  A single light above the middle of those stables offered faint illumination.  On both sides of the barn large bales of hay were stacked nearly to the ceiling some twenty feet above their heads.

 

Mac turned to Cooper while pointing toward the six horse stables.

 

“Which one is the access, Coop?  One on the far right?

 

Cooper Wyse’s eyes widened slightly at the question.

 

“Access?”

 

Mac gave a sly smile.

 

“Yeah – c’mon now, did you think someone like me wouldn’t do their homework on you?  That I’d spend all day making my way here without having some idea what you’re about?”

 

Cooper remained silent, looking back at Mac without expression.

 

Mac walked to the stable farthest to the right of the barn.

 

“The wood is hardly worn.  The straw on the ground is too uniform.  Hasn’t been a horse in here for a long time.  Look how the wall in the back, it’s slightly different color than the other stables’ back wall.  Guessing it’s a bit more substantial than the other walls, right?  And notice how that one light up above isn’t actually centered above the six stables – it’s right of center.  You wanted more light on that particular stable.”

 

Cooper Wyse again ran his fingers across the stubble on his face.

 

“Well, Mac, I see you’re already living up to your reputation.  C’mon then, let me show you what we got.”

 

Dublin and Reese looked at one another, silently communicating their confusion over what was just said.  Bear was focused on that sixth stable, trying to figure out what Mac was seeing that remained unknown to him.  The three of them followed behind Mac, who in turn was following Cooper.

 

Once inside the stable, Cooper Wyse brushed away some straw from the floor of the stable and then leaned down and pulled a barely noticeable rope that was colored to match the look of straw.  Instantly a panel just large enough for a man to walk through opened up in the back wall.

 

Mac turned to Bear, Reese, and Dublin, a wide smile breaking across his weathered face and extended his right hand toward the panel space.

 

“And there you have it boys and girls.  Now, Coop, you care to tell them what you’re all about?  Seems to be a bit more than just raising some horses and hanging out with that dog.”

 

Cooper Wyse stood back up and folded his arms across his chest as Brando took a position to Cooper’s right.

 

“Sure thing, Mac…I’m among friends.  Right?”

 

Mac shrugged.

 

“I’d like to think so, Coop.”

 

Cooper removed his cowboy hat and held it in both hands in front of him as he gathered his thoughts.

 

“This here ranch of mine has been an access point for the black market between Alaska and the provinces for…hell, been almost ten years now.  Don’t do it for profit, do it to help people out.  Get them supplies, medicines…things like that.  Got a few paths in the hills behind here, take a horse and cross the border into Canada and then back again.  Done it hundreds of times.  Know the drone patterns, their surveillance cycles.  Store it up in here and then bring it into the city where they get sent off to wherever.  Guessing some of the stuff made its way to Dominatus from time to time.  Yoti, your Eskimo friend, he made a few requests for things over the years.”

 

Bear stepped forward, causing Brando to issue yet another low warning growl.

 

“So, you’re a smuggler.  Is that it?”

 

Cooper placed his hat back atop his head, pulling the brim down so it rested just above his eyes.

 

“Suppose that’s one way of putting it.  Don’t much care what you call me.  I know I’m helping people get things they need, or want, and that’s fine by me.  Kept me occupied since my wife and kids, since they…since they were gone.”

 

Mac tipped his head in the direction of the panel.

 

“Can we see what you have in there?  What we can take with us for the trip?”

 

Cooper Wyse made his way to the panel and then disappeared into it, his voice following behind him.

 

“C’mon then.  Let me show you what we got.”

 

The other four followed Cooper through the opening and then stood in complete darkness.  The air was slightly cooler inside the dark space, and cleaner smelling than the musty hay and horse odors of the main barn area.

 

Bear’s low voice grumbled for some light.

 

“Can’t see a damn thing in front of me, Cooper.”

 

Two loud hand claps followed Bear’s complaint, followed by three large lights instantly turning on above their heads.

 

Mac gave Cooper Wyse a quizzical look, then glanced upward again at the now illuminated lights. 

 

“What the hell was that, Coop?”

 

Cooper gave two more claps and room was again dark.  Two more claps and the light returned.

 

“Clap on.  Clap off.  My mom was crazy about this thing.  Kept it in her room inside the house.  She’d be in there laughing and clapping every night before bed.  I wired it up for the lighting out here when I was completing the room.”

 

The four Dominatus residents began to note all of the various supplies and materials that were neatly organized in the room.  It was nearly twenty feet long and almost as wide, with a ceiling that appeared to be nearly ten feet high.  The walls were painted a light silver color, and in the far right corner was a small air circulation unit.

 

Cooper’s pride in his construction was noticeable as he began to tell them the history of the hidden room.

 

“I made this place myself.  The walls are fully insulated, got a temperature control unit over there that keeps the room sixty five degrees 24/7.  Power comes from a battery bank I keep under the floor.  That battery bank is powered by the solar panels I have across the barn’s roof.  The New United Nations approves of solar power, but I use it to keep this room which I store all kinds of things outlawed by those bastards.  Guns, ammunition, medicines, electronic devices, those little coal powered generator units I know you used up in Dominatus…all the things that people can’t get anymore unless they have someone like me to help them out.”

 

Rows of rifles were neatly hung across the entire left wall, while individual boxes of various handguns were stored in a shelf just below that wall, and below that shelf was another shelf that contained boxes and boxes of corresponding ammunition. There were easily fifty different firearms in the room.

 

On the floor were four brand new coal generators as well as an entire oil extracting unit and next to that was a miniature refinery system capable of producing a hundred gallons of gasoline fuel per day.  Reese spotted several handheld short wave transmission devices.

 

“Those transmitters – that’s top of the line and their brand new.  New production which hasn’t been allowed for years.  How did you get those?”

 

Cooper Wyse shrugged.

 

“Figured you would like those, Reese.  Thing is, there’s anything and everything out there somewhere.  Just need to know how and where to look.  The New United Nations has tried to wipe out the free market, but it hasn’t done it.  Not yet.”

 

Mac was looking over the guns on the walls when his attention was diverted to something on the floor just below those guns.

 

“What the hell, Coop – is this what it looks like?”

 

Without even looking to see what Mac was referring to Cooper replied.

 

“Yup.  Hardly used.  The technology came all the way from Russia. They had a program for years developing it.  Then it was defunded.  At least that’s what they said.  Made thousands of them which have been sold off over the years.  I got that one there just a few months ago.”

 

Mac looked to back to Cooper Wyse, his eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning.

 

“May I?”

 

Cooper nodded.

 

Mac carefully picked up a small rifle-like weapon that hung by itself on a four foot high rack.  It looked somewhat like a toy gun, with a rather clumsy box like device that was attached to the lower portion of the barrel. 

 

Mac let out a long slow whistle.

 

“Heard about these things man, had to be about thirty years ago.  Old Soviet technology.  They were trying to keep up with our missile defense stuff.  The Chinese did some work on this as well.  A laser gun with a computerized scope.  Accurate within an inch of the target up to a mile away.  One clean little laser beam that can rip through a half inch of steel.”

 

Mackenzie Walker looked over the laser rifle more closely, his fingers running along its smooth, dull black finish.

 

“No serial number?  Who made this?  You said it was from Russia?”

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