Read Online Holding Their Own XI: Hearts and Minds by Joe Nobody - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Joe Nobody
Tags: Science-Fiction, Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Dystopian
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life-giving substance. Each man carried a pump water filter as well as backup iodine purification tablets. It would be an extra task each day, but that was the far better option than carrying several pounds of liquid on their backs.
While Butter and Grim finished checking each other’s load-out, Bishop and Watts studied a map spread across a squad car’s hood. With a long finger tapping several marked spots on the chart, the sheriff announced, “These marks indicate where we’ve had contact with the gang. Looks like they are based at the eastern end, around the old state park. That makes sense, as the locals tell me that area is thick with caves and slot canyons.”
Next came the most important part of the operation – communications.
Bishop pulled a military-issued satellite phone from his kit while Sheriff Watts produced an identical model. After a quick sequence of numbers had been punched, the lawman’s unit began ringing loudly. A successful test.
“This will be monitored 24 hours a day,” Watts promised. “As soon as you find their hideout, call and we’ll be coming in force.”
As Bishop checked his team, Sheriff Watts approached with a small can of bright orange spray paint in his hand. “I’ll have a deputy drive along this rim road every morning before lunch. If the satellite phones fail for any reason, spray the symbol of a cross where it can be seen from the road. We’ll get here as quickly as we can. Good luck.”
Bishop nodded and smiled, “Backup plans are always wise. Thanks, Sheriff. We’ll see you in a few days.”
The team leader then turned to his men and said, “Let’s go fellas. My wife is supposed to return from New Mexico soon. I want to be there to greet her. She’s not had the pleasure of my company for several weeks.”
“Lucky girl,” grumbled Grim. “I wonder how much she’d pay me to slow this operation down?”
The descent was steep, treacherous, and exhausting. Halfway to the canyon floor, Bishop’s muscles were screaming for mercy, his entire body drenched in salty perspiration. “Let’s take 10 on that next ridge,” he instructed between breaths. “I don’t want you guys getting hurt.”
Grim threw a “You’re full of shit,” look at his commander, but didn’t say a word. Butter, in pure innocence, said, “I’m fine, boss. We don’t have to stop.”
The two older members of the squad outvoted the younger legs and lungs in a silent election. Grim was suffering as well, just too damn proud to admit it.
“I don’t think that sheriff likes you much, Bishop,” Grim finally mumbled, dropping his pack to the dust. “That son of a bitch picked the most difficult trail in the entire canyon on purpose. I bet he’s up on the rim over there, sitting in his air-conditioned car and watching us through binoculars. Probably having a grand old belly laugh at our misery.”
“You’re probably right,” replied the Texan. “I should have given your charm and diplomacy more of a chance to win the man over.”
Butter, slowly getting used to his teammates’ constant banter, ignored the back-and-forth prattle. “Sir, how are we going to find these bad guys? This place is huge… with a million places to hide.”
Bishop grunted, “That’s simple. We follow the river and look for tracks. Anybody living in this canyon and growing crops has to carry a lot of water back to their camp. We’ll just find their trail and follow it.”
The younger man was confused. “But if it’s that easy, how come the deputies didn’t do the same thing?”
Grim smiled, shaking his head, “Bishop said it was simple, not easy. They’ll have lookouts, maybe snipers posted. They’re probably smart enough to try and cover their tracks. We have to search 28 miles of river without exposing ourselves, and that is going to suck.”
Bishop nodded his agreement. “We’ll go with Grim and me in front, you bringing up the rear, Butter. We’ll move like a triangle, always
While Butter and Grim finished checking each other’s load-out, Bishop and Watts studied a map spread across a squad car’s hood. With a long finger tapping several marked spots on the chart, the sheriff announced, “These marks indicate where we’ve had contact with the gang. Looks like they are based at the eastern end, around the old state park. That makes sense, as the locals tell me that area is thick with caves and slot canyons.”
Next came the most important part of the operation – communications.
Bishop pulled a military-issued satellite phone from his kit while Sheriff Watts produced an identical model. After a quick sequence of numbers had been punched, the lawman’s unit began ringing loudly. A successful test.
“This will be monitored 24 hours a day,” Watts promised. “As soon as you find their hideout, call and we’ll be coming in force.”
As Bishop checked his team, Sheriff Watts approached with a small can of bright orange spray paint in his hand. “I’ll have a deputy drive along this rim road every morning before lunch. If the satellite phones fail for any reason, spray the symbol of a cross where it can be seen from the road. We’ll get here as quickly as we can. Good luck.”
Bishop nodded and smiled, “Backup plans are always wise. Thanks, Sheriff. We’ll see you in a few days.”
The team leader then turned to his men and said, “Let’s go fellas. My wife is supposed to return from New Mexico soon. I want to be there to greet her. She’s not had the pleasure of my company for several weeks.”
“Lucky girl,” grumbled Grim. “I wonder how much she’d pay me to slow this operation down?”
The descent was steep, treacherous, and exhausting. Halfway to the canyon floor, Bishop’s muscles were screaming for mercy, his entire body drenched in salty perspiration. “Let’s take 10 on that next ridge,” he instructed between breaths. “I don’t want you guys getting hurt.”
Grim threw a “You’re full of shit,” look at his commander, but didn’t say a word. Butter, in pure innocence, said, “I’m fine, boss. We don’t have to stop.”
The two older members of the squad outvoted the younger legs and lungs in a silent election. Grim was suffering as well, just too damn proud to admit it.
“I don’t think that sheriff likes you much, Bishop,” Grim finally mumbled, dropping his pack to the dust. “That son of a bitch picked the most difficult trail in the entire canyon on purpose. I bet he’s up on the rim over there, sitting in his air-conditioned car and watching us through binoculars. Probably having a grand old belly laugh at our misery.”
“You’re probably right,” replied the Texan. “I should have given your charm and diplomacy more of a chance to win the man over.”
Butter, slowly getting used to his teammates’ constant banter, ignored the back-and-forth prattle. “Sir, how are we going to find these bad guys? This place is huge… with a million places to hide.”
Bishop grunted, “That’s simple. We follow the river and look for tracks. Anybody living in this canyon and growing crops has to carry a lot of water back to their camp. We’ll just find their trail and follow it.”
The younger man was confused. “But if it’s that easy, how come the deputies didn’t do the same thing?”
Grim smiled, shaking his head, “Bishop said it was simple, not easy. They’ll have lookouts, maybe snipers posted. They’re probably smart enough to try and cover their tracks. We have to search 28 miles of river without exposing ourselves, and that is going to suck.”
Bishop nodded his agreement. “We’ll go with Grim and me in front, you bringing up the rear, Butter. We’ll move like a triangle, always
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