Chapter 16 U S E K U K P Z C F M J S C Q K X V M K N V Z E V C V E C Y Alex was wishing he had taken a different route back to the safe house. He wanted to spend as little time as possible on the road, in order to minimize the amount of time he was exposed to surveillance and possible pursuit. He had watched some of the news coverage of the incident with the cops - he had seen his picture and name, no doubt from a database keyed to his driver's license. He had a new identity, a new car, and had altered his appearance as he easily could. His beard and mustache were gone, and discreetly applied skin coloration, unnoticeable unless one knew what to look for - and a pair of glasses would help. The glasses turned dark outdoors, and the baseball cap was pulled down to hide as much of his face as possible. That didn't do anything for his current situation, however. Warned of checkpoints along his route, he had taken several detours to avoid them, and had ended up in Wilkesboro. It wasn't a large city, just over eighty thousand, with several nearby towns making up an area population of something over a hundred thousand. Surrounded by farms on all sides, the major traffic conduits were two highways which intersected on the south side of town. It was late in the day when he arrived, and he immediately began looking for some of the local criminal class - he need a place to stay overnight, and it needed to be safe for Cassandra. He looked over at her as he drove down a street in a warehouse district near the south edge of town - she was as calm as ever. He suspected she trusted him completely, without the slightest apprehension about anything as long as she was with him. And she would not be separated from him, would not let him out of her sight for a moment. Some of those who lived just outside the law, not hardened criminals but who survived by helping others evade certain legal constraints, would be found around here, and he needed such help. Staying at a reputable hotel could expose him - he needed a place where no questions were asked. He knew the signs well, and before long he found what he was looking for. A young man was loading some boxes into the back of a truck, apparently in no hurry at all. Each time he placed a box in the truck he stopped, leaned on the truck for a few moments and surveyed the area, then loaded another box. It appeared that the boxes were empty, or at least were quite light. Alex watched for a while, and eventually he finished, then got into the truck and drove away. But not far - he drove to another warehouse and stopped. He got out, looked around, and took a box from the truck and set it on the ground. Alex started the car and drove forward, stopping a short distance behind the truck, the window down so he could easily be seen. This was the critical moment - Alex needed to quickly establish that he was not a cop. He took off his baseball cap and put it on backward. One would have to look closely to see the small strip of fabric sewn onto the back, and even then it would probably look like a manufacturer's logo. In fact the arrangement of colored stripes were a signal that few would recognize, and it was changed regularly. He took a silver coin from his pocket and flipped it into the air, the shiny metal flashing in the afternoon sunlight, caught it and put it back in his pocked. He could see the young man had seen the entire performance thus far. He took off the cap and put it back on in the proper manner, and watched. The young man reached into a pocket and took out a small knife, opened it, and began to clean his fingernails with it. Alex approached slowly. The man was leaning with his back against the tailgate of the truck. Alex took up a similar position, just a foot or so between them. "Two rooms, one night" said Alex quietly, without looking over at him. The man held up four fingers. Four of the one-ounce coins, like the one he had showed. Reasonable. "How's crime around here" Alex asked. "Non-existent" the man replied, "as long as we all play by the rules." "Seems to be worth the price, then" said Alex, "with a bonus. Where to I find you in the morning?" "What time are you leaving?" the man asked. "Eight seems good" replied Alex. "The curfew ends at six" said the man "so don't be outside before that. It begins at ten, by the way. Follow me." Alex didn't ask about the reason for the curfew - such things were quite arbitrary and often seemed to be imposed solely to torment the people. They followed the truck a short distance, never going far from where the conversation had started. He opened a door in the side of a long building, one of many such doors. "Put your car inside" he said. "The next stall is just like this one - a small bedroom, bath, kitchen in the back. They're connected - I'll unlock the door between them. Do you need anything else?" "Not just now" Alex replied. "How do we find some one if we do?" The man handed him a card. "Call this number" he said. "Do you have a black phone?" "Yes" said Alex. He handed him four of the silver coins. "That just about cleans me out - I've got to get out of here quickly in the morning. Can you advise me on a route?" "You never know where they will have checkpoints" the man replied. "If you're leaving at eight, I may know something by then." "Thanks" said Alex. The accommodations were as advertised - each was a storage stall about twelve feet wide and around thirty feet deep. Alex inspected the door before closing it - the external locking mechanism had been removed, and it could only be locked from the inside. Unless, of course, someone blocked it after he was inside. But the underground was, almost without exception, honorable. Some elements were merely criminal, but needed to work with the more principled political dissidents, and so refrained from preying on any allies of their associates. Alex figured they were safe, but was taking no chances. He could easily breach the sheet metal walls of the warehouse with the materials he had in the car, and would set it up before going to sleep. But first, he needed to get Cassandra safely to bed in the adjoining apartment. Never certain about the cleanliness of such places, he took out two sleeping bags and put on on Cassandras bed and the other on his. While they had a quick, quite meal he briefed her. "We're in a bad spot here" he told her. "With any luck we will have an easy exit and be out of here before anyone notices us. Unless they're looking for us specifically. You never know why they lock a place down like this. In the worst case, if we get locked in I can blow out the back wall over on my side in just a few seconds, but we'll have to run for it, try to steal a vehicle. So just be ready to move fast, OK?" She nodded, expressionless. In the months since he had rescued her from the hellish prison she not spoken, but always understood him. "Got your guns ready?" he asked. She opened her jacket to reveal a small holstered revolver on each side. He had give her a pair of the small revolvers Tyler had brought him when he began working with the freeholders. Small, slim, with five-shot cylinders, they were only useful at close range - the .35 caliber cartridges were not especially powerful. The general idea was to use them on an enemy close enough to touch, or nearly so - push the gun against a vital area and squeeze of a couple of rounds. He had taught her to shoot at more distant targets, and like most people who have never used firearms, when taught properly they can become relatively proficient in a short time. He also saw the handle of the knife she carried - and had used to deadly effect before. He knew that if they went down they would take a few enemies with them. "OK then" he said. "I'll be next door. Good night." He placed the breaching kit on the wall opposite the entrance and connected the trigger. It would take perhaps twenty seconds to cut a doorway in the wall, and exiting that way would put them next to the fence around the area. Beyond was a wooded area. He had surveyed it on the way in and knew that once across the fence pursuit would be difficult. Vehicles could not traverse the woods, and on foot he and Cassandra could probably escape easily from men who were generally not in such good physical condition and were carrying heavy equipment. After a final check of his gear, he lay down to sleep. He didn't sleep much - even though the area was largely deserted after dark, the huge metal building generated noises as the temperature fell, and sounds from outside - wind, leaves blowing against the walls, small animals passing - were frequent. His phone signal was good, and he knew their messaging system was completely secure, so he put out an alert to Gordon describing his situation. The only reply was an acknowledgment - no more was needed. Gordon would quickly marshal his resources and prepare to rescue him if necessary. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ His alarm was set for 0600 - the time he had been told the curfew ended. His contact would be here at 0800. He went over to check on Cassandra - she was already awake and sitting on the edge of the bed. A quick breakfast of a couple of pastries with coffee for him and hot chocolate for Cassandra, and they were ready to leave. He left the breaching kit on the wall. It would stay until the last minute - and waited. A message from Gordon indicated help was on the way. They were, Gordon believed, near the edge of the territory was was heavily policed. If they could go about twelve miles southeast they would be in an area that was almost completely controlled by a local militia friendly to the League. Gordon and Tyler were on their way - Tyler having arrived the previous day - along with several allied operatives. Twelve miles, Alex thought. If they were being pursued it might as well be a thousand. He opened the outside door and looked around. The area was still quiet - he suspected legitimate business was being conducted here, whether as a camouflage from the underground activities or if they simply leased space. The latter would probably be harder to detect. He was about to go back inside when he saw a man come around the corner of the building, and knew immediately who it was. The young man he had rented the place from the previous evening. Alex stepped back inside and waited. "You've got problems," he said. "They're searching the area, headed this way. I figure ten, fifteen minutes at the outside, they'll be at the front gate. Probably take them that much longer to get here." "If I can guarantee payment for the damage, can you destroy this car and everything in it?" Alex asked. "I'll give you what I have left now - I won't be needing it soon." "I can do that" the man said. "You're with the outfit they call the League, aren't you? We've got people inside the local law enforcement, apparently there's a man of your description, an Alex Marshall. Travelling with a young girl. Apparently they want both of you in a serious way." "You pretty much got it" said Alex. "I'll see to it you get paid. If you can make it look like we're inside with the fireworks go off, the League will be extremely grateful." He fished out the remaining coins and handed them to the man. "Anything in the car you find useful..." The man nodded. "You'd better get going" he said. Cassandra had quietly joined them, waiting. "How far do those woods go?" asked Alex. "Probably three to four miles. Not much beyond that but farms, Taylorville is the next town, about ten, eleven miles." "Excellent" said Alex. "Thanks. You may find out one day how important this is." "James" said the man. "James Fletcher. There's a small gate about a hundred feet to your left as you go around the building. Good luck." And then they were gone. Carrying nothing except their weapons, they jogged quickly to the egress point James had indicated, and then they were among the trees. Alex was glad it was summer - the full foliage of the trees left the area relatively dark, and the near absence of undergrowth allowed rapid progress. Three to four miles, he thought. They would cover that distance quickly, and then would have to improvise. Crossing several more miles of open country, even if it was largely unpopulated agricultural land, would not be easy to do undetected. Their best chance was to acquire a vehicle that would not be missed immediately. He hoped the diversion would be successful. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ At the edge of the woods, Alex surveyed the situation. As James had indicated, there was not much beyond the newly planted fields. A month later it would have been possible - there would be enough fields of tall corn and other crops through which they could walk for miles undetected. But now the plants were only inches tall. He looked at a small group of buildings a short distance away. The appeared to be the large metal buildings used for storage and maintenance of agricultural equipment. Sometimes they were located near a farmer's house, but not always. It was worth a try. Moving back into the woods, he and Cassandra walked along under the cover of the trees until they were as close as they could come without exposing themselves. The nearest building was about a hundred yards away, and beyong them Alex could see a dirt road, which seemed to run for a considerable distance in either direction. Most likely it was a farm road, used for moving equipment and trucks. With the crops planted, the equipment most likely would not be needed soon. Alex contacted Gordon and gave him his location. A couple of minutes later Gordon replied. "We're about eight miles away in a straight line - just across Caney Creek. Cross the creek and you're home free." Alex entered Gordon's location and looked at the map on his phone. A detailed view of the area showed that the road running by the farm shops intersected with a major highway about a mile from where he was. The highway crossed Caney Creek - an easy drive, if he had a vehicle and no pursuers. They left the woods and approached the buildings. Alex didn't like taking so much time, but he carefully scouted the area to see if any people were present. Satisfied that they were alone, he checked the larger buildings, which might have something he could use for transport. They were locked but the locks were of the type that would keep honest people out, but not a determined criminal. Or a man with his military background, and the informal education that had followed it. He quickly breached a door and they entered. There was no sign of alarms, so they might have some time to work. The large building was dimly lighted by skylights, twenty or so feet up. The only vehicles here were tractors. Big tractors - the front tires of the one he was standing by were as tall as him, and the rear tires were even larger. Larger machines loomed behind it. A large blade, like that on a bulldozer, was mounted on the front. Duals all around, this machine could go anywhere, but not very fast. The top speed would probably not be much over thirty miles per hour. But it would be much too conspicuous. He was hoping for a truck. The sound of a vehicle passing startled him. That was not a good sign, he thought. There were no coincidences in this business. He wished he had a way to see the road, but it wasn't possible from back here. He climbed the steps to the cab and looked around. It was a relatively new tractor, with largely automated functions. When plowing and planting, the driver was little more than a passenger. Alex knew a fair amount about the things, having spent summers as a teenager at a relative's farm, and had sometimes driven the tractors when moving them around the farm. The iginition key was hanging from a short cable on the instrument panel. He inserted it and turned it a notch, checked the instruments. The fuel tank was nearly full, and it seemed ready to go. He located the controls to raise the massive front blade, then climbed down. He heard another vehicle pass by. Or maybe, he thought, the same one. He would have to look. Exiting through the door entered by, he carefully moved out far enough to see the road. He could see a car, apparently stopped, on the road a short distance away. That was the direction of the highway, he knew. It was too far to be certain, but it had the look of a police car. They had been gone long enough for the searchers back in Wilkesboro to have discovered they had escaped, and their probably route. It would be a simple matter to get the local sheriff and probably some state police to start a search. Sure enough, he thought, as another car approached the parked one, stopped beside it. Better get started, he thought, as the second car began moving again, in his direction. The other car turned around and followed. They slowed as they approached his position, and he knew it was time to go. Back inside he found the controls to open the large doors through which the equipment was moved in and out, opened them, and then scrambled up the steps, Cassandra following. He started the engine, raised the blade until the lower edge was about two feet off the ground, and drove toward the door. There was enough distance between the buildings to drive the large tractor, and even larger equipment. A left turn, then a right, and he was headed for the road. The two police cars were parked there, the two cops now out and looking around, as he approached. He turned just enough to hit the cars with the blade, hoping they were disabled. Not that it mattered, more would be coming. There was nothing to do now but run for it and hope it worked out. "Keep your head down" he said to Cassandra. "Make the smallest target you can." Handguns, or shotguns, probably would not penetrate the heavy material that formed the walls of the cab. Rifles were another matter. The small .25 caliber rifles usually carried by law enforcement would probably not have much more effect. He hoped they hadn't scrambled a helicopter or two. There was no pursuit yet, and he hoped the hunt was not yet well organized, but he knew the two cops would have called in his location and a description of the tractor. On the highway he put the transmission in transport mode and opened the throttle. It was probably another seven to eight miles to the bridge - at thirty miles per hour it would take fifteen minutes or more. He looked down at Cassandra, crouching in the other seat. She appeared calm, but then she always did. He sometimes wondered if she had any emotions left. Even inside the cab, with its thick windows and the enormous diesel engine in front of him, he heard the sirens as a pair of police cars approached from behind. As if he was going to stop, he thought, smiling in spite of the situation. There was barely enough room for one of them to approach to his side, and the cop should have known it was a foolish thing to do, but one of the did. Alex turned the wheel over, moving the big machine over against the car. He hoped to simply push it off the road, but the enormous rear wheels ran up over the back of the car and crushed it. It had little effect on the tractor, but now he could hear gunfire. He had time to register the presence of a sign as he passed it. Caney Creek was now five miles away. Much too far if they managed to get some cops ahead of him. Ten more minutes. He knew Caney Creek was an unofficial border of sorts - skirmishes between police and the militia operating in the area had largely ended after both sides, through the unofficial communications that invariably came to exist in such situations, agreed not to operate across the creek. That wouldn't prevent them from having some assets in the next five miles. There would be little they could do other than drive through, Alex knew. He has been watching the clock on the instrument panel. Another mile down, four to go. He now saw flashing lights ahead - police cars. Probably a mile away, he knew if he didn't stop they would begin shooting as soon as he was within range. He slowed the machine slightly, at about a half mile he moved over to the side of the road. He knew that the power of the tractor would allow him to accelerate quickly from a dead stop to move any barrier they could have put up - likely nothing more than cars across the road. Now within a hundred yards, he slowed to a near stop. He could see the cops moving out from behind the cars, most of them now carrying their weapons at port arms. They could be brought into action quickly, but not quickly enough to be effective. Most of them were now on the sides of the road, he could see one with a bullhorn, but didn't hear anything said before he pushed the throttle all the way forward. The blade pushed the cars aside and he was through, and seconds later he heard the first strikes on the back of the cab. He had noticed a large steel grid behind the rear window, to block debris thrown up by implements - it was stopping most of the bullets. "We're almost there" he said, looking down at Cassandra. A larger weapon was in play now, and some of the bullets were getting through. Cassandra suddenly flinched, just as another bulled penetrated the cab. Alex thought she was merely startled by the near miss, but then saw the blood on her hand she was holding against her side. It didn't show on her dark clothing, but her hand was now covered. Alex wanted to curse, but had stopped doing that years ago. "Hang on" he said. He saw the sign indicating that they were about to cross Caney Creek, and then they were on the bridge. Ahead was a small group of buildings, a small settlement beside the creek. He had to take the chance they were far enough - he knew Cassandra had taken a bad hit. He stopped the tractor, picked her up and dismounted. Several people were approaching, and a young man ran ahead of them. "I need to get her to a doctor quickly." Alex said. "Not a problem" the young man replied. "Follow me." He led them to a house behind the small gas station where they had stopped. He heard a helicopter approaching, then another. Military helicopters. He didn't look up as they entered the house. An older man with white hair, beard and mustache emerged from another room. "Put her down here" he said, indicating a table. Alex complied. "Cassandra, you have to trust these people." he sair. OK? This is a doctor, you'll have to let him touch you to treat your wound." She didn't respond, but neither did she resist. He turned to the younger man. "I'm making some dangerous assumptions" he said. "That you're friendlies and he's a doctor." The man grinned. "Frank Bellis, at your service" he said. "And this is Doctor Mitchell. Retired, but he knows what he's doing. I believe someone named Gordon is on the way, as well." As if on cue, another man entered. Alex looked up, and saw Gordon come in behind him. Gordon watched silently with the others as the doctor examined Cassandra. Questions would have to wait until the doctor had her stabilized. "The bleeding has slowed" he said after a while. "But this is bad. She will need surgery." "An ambulance is on the way from Morrilton" said the man who had brought Gordon in. "Probably ten minutes each way." It seemed like an eternity to Alex, but eventually the ambulance arrived. Gordon followed in his own car. At the hospital, he stayed with her until the anasthesia was applied, and then went outside to wait. "We're safe here" Gordon told him as he emerged. "They probably know, or soon will know, where you are, and that Cassandra is in the hospital here. But they won't dare take any action - the local militia is too strong. You probably heard the choppers overhead back at the creek - they managed to scramble a couple of AH-1s, would probably have taken you out if they had been a few minutes earlier. They must want you rather badly." "So it seems" Alex said. "Well" said Gordon. "You did kill a couple of cops." Alex had seen the news coverage of his earlier encounter. Pictures of the two cops, in uniform, pictures of wives and children. Two men doing their duty, protecting the people. But there are lines you don't cross with your humanity intact, and these days law enforcement itself was often a crime, a crime against the people it was supposed to serve. And those who continued to carry out their orders under such conditions had only themselves to blame if someone refused to be a victim. "They were on to me before that" said Alex. "Those two were looking for me, specifically. Probably Cassandra was identified somewhere, and that linked me to the raid. Probably the only one they can connect." "You're not going to be able to move about much now, outside of areas we control" said Gordon. "Your work is going to have to change. Of course, in the short term, you'll have to stay in a safe place with Cassandra. The Green Hills freehold is not far away, and they have good medical facilities. It would be a good place for you to stay while she recovers." Alex knew something like Green Hills, and like most freeholds with such names there wasn't a hill, green or any other color, within many miles. The freehold base lay inside a heavily forested area and few of the locals knew much about it beyond the fact that it existed. But as was often the case, many of its members lived or spent time in the surrounding communities, and were careful to cultivate good will with their neighbors. It might be just the place to go. "That might be best" said Alex. "As for my future, that depends on a lot of things." "How is she doing" asked Gordon. "Besides being shot, obviously." "There has been some improvement, mostly physical but she seems calmer and, to the degree I can observe, happier. Relative to the past, of course. But..." He paused, wondering how to say it. "I suspect I'll never be able to be separated from her, other that at times like this, when she doesn't have any choice. I believe she will never let go of me. "Gordon, you know what went on in there. Imprisoning, torturing adults for political purposes, you can at least analyze the motives of evil people in matters like that - they do whatever they have to to accomplish their objectives. Raping children, brutalizing them physically and mentally, you can't even treat such people as human beings. They may look human, but they aren't. Cassandra is fortunate to be as well off as she is." "Yeah, I heard stories from some of the other prisoners" said Gordon "including some of the children who weren't quite as traumatized. Anyone picked her up and carried her out was going to be in the position you're in, but I suspect she senses something about you, perhaps something you don't even know about yourself. Whatever you may think of it now, it may have been somehow your fate to be the one. And in a way that's good for both of you." "What would she see in me?" asked Alex. "I've become rather ruthless, in case you hadn't noticed. I don't like what I do - but it's necessary. But being responsible for... I don't even know how to think about it." Gordon grinned. "I'm an old soldier myself, like most military men of my age, I did my time in nasty wars that never should have happened. We're not equipped to understand it, to make the right decisions all the time, but for those who try it usually works out. This war won't go on forever. Sir Walter believes there are events on the horizon that may change the nature of it. I don't know any details - but he seems to know what he's doing. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is you're still young, and in a better future you might get married, have some kids. Find the right woman and it could be a good thing for Cassandra." Alex wanted to go outside for a cigarette, but didn't want to leave until the doctor came out. He didn't have to wait long - the doors to the surgery area opened and the doctor emerged. "Everything looks good at this point" he said. "The bullet didn't do any serious damage - a perforated intestine, entry and exit wounds are cleaned up. She'll have to take antibiotics for a while, but should be in good shape in a few days. We'll keep her sedated for the first three days, give things time to heal." Alex looked at Gordon. "Is it safe to leave her here for that long?" he asked. "I believe so" replied Gordon. "We'll keep a close watch, at any sign of an attempt to grab her we'll have her on the way to Green Hills." "All right" said Alex. "When can I see her?" "It won't be long" said the doctor. "They're moving her to ICU now, someone will advise you when it's done." "Thanks, Doctor" Alex said. "She can't be allowed to wake up without me present" He tapped his head with a forefinger. "I understand" the doctor replied. "I'll see to it." "Want a smoke?" Alex asked Gordon. "I thought you'd never ask" Gordon said.