Chapter 12 -- TNBYIJXUEXROTSIMBVG
They were back at the range the next day, not for shooting but for unarmed
combat. Or at least, combat without firearms. Both of the instructors was a
former special forces types, and they taught a blend of martial arts and
general purpose brawling. Since few if any of the other participants were
near them in skill and experience, it was mostly a matter of teaching as much
as possible how to survive when forced into a fight, or escape if possible.
Although Carter had had an exposure to hand-to-hand combat as part of his
police training and had practiced with some colleagues who were practitioners
of various martial arts, he found he got a few bumps and bruises despite the
efforts of the instructors to take it easy on their students.
There were some exercises involving armed attackers, with dummy knives and
handguns or course. A couple of automobiles had been placed on the field to
all for exercises it dealing with combat in and around vehicles. He found it
interesting that in some the scenarios the students played the part of the
aggressor, to the degree that they practiced resisting arrest and even
assaulting the 'cops' with knives or guns. Most of it was at close quarters,
and he noticed that in exercises in which the objective was to use a knife or
small handgun while the target was close enough to touch.
"Your best chance is when you're this close," said Mike, a forty-something man
who from his condition might have been an active duty Ranger. Carter later
found out that he was only recently retired, and he turned out to be a rather
pleasant type given that he had just spent the past couple of hours practicing
killing people.
"Remember this," he told them, after one demonstration. "When the time comes,
the only important thing is survival. By the time you have to use what we're
learning here it will be too late to allow a police uniform to cause you to
hesitate, or that is being worn by a woman - guys, that can be hard to overcome.
You might by then have accepted that the law is the enemy, but using lethal
force against a woman can still cause you to hesitate. Don't."
He grinned.
"I don't expect you ladies to have such inhibitions. But deliberately killing,
or even injuring, another human being is not something any normal person wants
to have to do. But in this situation, your survival depends on it. And given
the kind of treatment that dissenters have received recently, and I'm talking
about completely non-violent protesters - some of them are still in jail and have been there for years.
Once they have the cuffs on you, your chances are not good.
"After lunch we'll go through all this again, to help you make it reflexive.
Thinking is what you do before the necessity for action arrives."
It appeared that most of them had been to these sessions before, probably
several times in some cases. Jessica had told him she came several times a
year, and besides the learning experience it allowed the members of the
various freeholds to meet and share experiences. Each day she found someone
new to introduce him to at lunch or dinner, and by the third day he knew quite
a few of them. Among them were a couple of ex-cops, one from Texas and one
from Arizona. Both had been sheriff's deputies and so they had different
experiences, but he learned that being a lawman in the wide open spaces could
be as dangerous as in the big city, particularly in the southwest. He was
aware of the drug and weapons traffic, along with the numerous criminal types
that came in among the other illegals, but these guys had had to deal with it
regularly. Both had eventually quit in disgust at seeing nothing done to
secure the border.
"Before long, we'll have an army of millions of illegals to deal with along
with the regular military," Cole Taylor - the one from Arizona - said. "I
don't even want to think about that."
"Hope the hordes in the cities don't come out all at once," said the Texan.
"Unless they decide to play with each other."
"If only we could get them to," Cole said. "Keep the government busy."
Back at their cabin that evening, Carter took a shower and put on a fresh pair
of jeans and a t-shirt, and went out into the common area. Jessica was there
in pajamas, watching television.
"I guess we should see how this goes," she said. The news channel was on again
and a the shooting incident of the previous day was the main subject. It
seemed one of the armed robbers was indeed dead, the other hospitalized. Due
to the nature of the conflict that ensued upon the arrival of the police, the
cop's bodycam recording was almost useless and left the account up to the cops
and some rather inconsistent witness accounts. Thus, there would be a lengthy
investigation before anything was settled.
"Bad news," Jessica said as a commercial interruption ensued. "It was a white
cop. You know what that means."
"Yeah," said Carter. "If he is smart he'll run fast and far. That'll give
him better chance than he'll get any other way."
"No doubt," Jessica said. "Even if they had the video to prove he didn't do
anything wrong, it won't matter. Things have gone too far, they'll throw him
overboard as a first resort."
"I have to wonder," Carter said, "why none of these guys has ever tried that.
Believe me, in that situation you've got nothing to lose."
"Where could you go?" asked Jessica. "If a guy like him runs, it would be the
biggest manhunt ever. Sooner or later they'd get him."
"Maybe," said Carter. "What if he had some help?"
"What kind? He'd have to have a new identity, change his appearance, and even
then he would never be safe."
"Yeah, but if he did that, and had protection, a hiding place when needed, it
could work."
"Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"
Carter looked over and grinned.
"Most likely."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"Think about it for a minute," he said. "Like Mike said, once they have the
cuffs on you, you're done. Suppose they indict this guy, and it's likely they
will. It could take close to a year to come to trial, and he hangs around like nothing's
wrong. Then, a month or two before the trial, he bails. Disappears, which we
can make him do. The worst thing is he has to give up his old life, but
believe me, that's gone anyway. And like me, he has a chance for revenge, and
the time in between isn't so bad."
Jessica was silent for a long while, and he waited, not knowing what else to
say at the moment. Finally she spoke.
"Our objective is much bigger than one man," she said. "I understand how you
feel. You've been there. But drawing attention to ourselves prematurely,
could be a costly mistake. I don't know how such a suggestion would be received."
"You mentioned probing, before the drop dead date. Would something like this
fit? It would be fairly small and easy to keep under wraps."
"I really can't say," she replied. "That's something that would be decided at a
higher level. I do know that among the Council there's an idea that the big
crisis might be averted by attacking the troublemakers now, each time they
have one their loot and burn events, go in and shut it down. The problem is
it could probably expose us prematurely, whereas later, when the country is
clearly lost, or almost so, we can go in and eliminate some of the bad people."
"Yeah, you mentioned that. But I was thinking, rescuing one man would be a
small operation, easily concealed."
"We should discuss it with Dad when we get back. At least in this case we
have time. It will take months, maybe a year or more, for a trial. If there
is one. We can still hope there isn't."
The television was back with another 'breaking news' segment.
"I thought it was breaking news yesterday," Carter said.
Jessica laughed.
"And it will be until they find something new to talk about."
They watched several representatives of the city government recite the usual
verbiage about thorough a investigation and justice being done. While another
reporter added that protesters were beginning to gather at police headquarters.
Switching to a scene of a group of people, probably several dozen in number,
being held away from the building by a line or policemen.
"Wonder how many murders they've had in Little Rock so far this year," he said.
"Bet they didn't get this kind of attention."
Jessica looked up from her phone.
"Forty-two so far" she said. "And the year's barely half over."
"And Little Rock isn't even a really big city, like Chicago or even St. Louis."
"Not that it matters," Jessica said. "We know from experience that for at
least a couple of years now, these things have been staged by rent-a-mob types,
transporting the participants in from out of town in most cases - there'll be
more tomorrow, once they get them in from Memphis, Houston, wherever. Even St.
Louis. And they'll keep it up until they get what they want, and if they don't
get it immediately the rioting will start. Looting and burning, the usual.
"That's why we, our leaders especially, have such a grim view of the future.
There's practically no hope of a societal or political solution, and no reason
to believe that will change without some major disaster, and even then it
would be exploited by the government to tighten their grip, while the sheeple
become even more frightened and will go along with anything. The only
disaster that will do any good will be the one we create."
They watched for a while longer, but it looked as if there would not be much
change for a while.
"It's getting late," she said. "Guess we should get some sleep. Wilderness
hiking tomorrow."
As they got up they both turned towards the space between their chairs, face
to face and almost close enough to touch. Jessica closed the distance,
reaching down to close her hands around his.
"Darrell, I'm glad you're here. This has been a lonely business for quite
a while."
"Yeah, I can see how it would be."
"I know you've had a rough time, of a different kind. I hope you're healing."
"I died seven years ago," he said. "They took my life but left my body
breathing. There was no reason for me to live except revenge."
"Is there another reason now?"
"You gave me one."
"We've been walking on eggshells at times," she said. "At least I have, and
you seem to be at times as well. It's all right to have feelings again, if
you can let yourself do it. And I'm not the boss's daughter, or anything like
that. You're a member of the team. And a friend."
Carter was only a couple of inches taller than she, and leaning in, slightly
on her toes, she kissed him. A quick kiss, not passionate or lingering, but
with obviously something that had been held in check for a while. He put his
arms around her and held her briefly before letting to.
"We probably should get some sleep," he said. "Good night."
"Good night," she said, turning to go.