***
Everyone but me found something to do. I headed down to the black SUV to check on Laura. Jane tended to Jenny, who sadly did not seem any better. I looked to Jane for reassurance but received none, only a shake of her head.
Laura was awake and sat in the back seat. “Hey Laura, how ya feeling?” I asked while I tucked blankets around her.
Laura yawned. “Am I gonna die?” she asked. Her eyelids, heavy from the medication, closed.
Feigning confidence I did not possess, I replied, “Of course not. You’re going to be fine. I promise. God has a special plan for you.”
Laura opened her eyes. “And you as well.”
Her response floored me. She said it with such authority. I stared at her, an uneasy sensation in my stomach. She smiled, closed her eyes and let out a small groan.
Maybe it’s the drugs. She did look pretty stoned. I laughed and kissed her on the forehead. “You want me to get George, you know, keep you company?”
She nodded.
I found George with Carmen. I told them to go and keep Laura company and to help Jane if she needed anything.
Chris hurried down the loft ladder.
“We’ve been followed,” he shouted to Dad.
They ran to the ladder and disappeared into the darkness. Dad came back down five minutes later. This time Susan accompanied him. He called Klara, Jane and Anthony to join us.
Theo hobbled over but Dad said, “Not you, son. Sorry. I need speed on this job.”
Theo shrugged, but stayed to listen.
Dad knelt and scraped debris from the dirt floor. “Here’s the railroad track, and here we are,” he said while he etched a line for the tracks and placed a small pebble to mark our barn. “Here’s the house.” He put another pebble on the ground. “And here’s the road we put off the tracks onto.”
“There’s a set of tire tracks that veer off behind the farmer's house. No tracks pass the other side. Whoever it is obviously doesn’t want to be seen by us. I’m pretty damn sure they’ve been following our tracks.”
Susan jumped in and said, “The tracks are wide, much wider than any of our trucks. I think it might be a semi or something.”
“Right,” Dad said. “They can’t see us, and we can’t see them.”
“So you think we can get up there without being spotted?” Jane asked.
“That’s my hope,” Dad said. “My fear is it’s the crew we ran into earlier. It’s going to be dark soon and the sky’s clouded up so there won’t be any moon to help us. We have to move now. Maybe we’ll catch them by surprise before they have time to get settled.
“Susan, you and Klara set up here.” Dad pointed to where the road and the farmer's lane converged. “The rest of us will sneak down this tree line under your cover.”
Dad glanced around. There were no questions so he continued, “Guns and ammo only. Wear camo if you have it, if not, then nothing bright.”
Five minutes later, we were ready to go. I stood in front of the door and listened to the soft drip, drip, drip of water fall from the roof. Susan and Klara, both heavily camouflaged, went out first. They sprinted to the tree line and blended in. Susan scanned the way ahead with her scope. Satisfied, she waved the rest of us out, and we ran to join them.
When we reached the fork in the road, Susan and Klara stole forward to take up their positions. Daylight was fading fast when Susan gave us the all clear. We dashed toward the house. The vehicle, a Humvee, had turned around in the driveway and now faced the road. We worked ourselves around the back of the building in order to take it from behind.
“There are no footprints in the snow,” Jane whispered.
Dad and I crept to the driver’s door. Jane and Anthony did the same on the other side. I glanced up at the machine gun mounted on top and hoped someone had the access hatch under observation.
Dad pointed to the door handle. He nodded and stood up when I pulled open the heavy door. Dad jumped in front. Jane did the same on the other side of the Humvee.
“Hands up and get out. Now,” Dad yelled.
“All clear,” Jane shouted from the other side.
“No need to scream,” the filthy soldier on the driver’s seat groaned. He held his hands up.
“Move,” Dad barked, his pistol pointed at the man’s head.
The officer heaved a sigh and attempted to get out of the vehicle with some semblance of dignity. All he managed to do was drop like a sack of potatoes. His cry of agony rent the air. I shrieked when he fell to the ground, a heap of black skin and grey camo. I did not need to be a doctor to know he had a broken leg. Legs ought not to bend like his did when he fell.
“Jane,” I shouted. “Over here. Quick.”
Dad continued to point his pistol at the officer. “Anna, get his gun.”
I gagged when I caught a whiff of him. Sweat, blood, urine, and feces melded together into the most disgusting aroma I’d ever smelled on another human.
“You must be Papa bear,” the man groaned.
“And just who the hell are you?”
I jumped when I saw a small animal dart to the rear cargo hold.
“His leg,” Dad said when Jane stooped down to look at the officer.
The man howled in pain when Jane twisted his leg.
“Penri,” he rasped, “Major Charles Penri.”
Jane frowned while she felt along the man’s blood encrusted pant leg.
“Medic?” Penri asked through ragged breaths.
“Long time ago. In the Navy,” Jane replied. “I’m Spell, Jane Spell.”
“Hum. Aarrghh. Must have been a change in uniforms recently.”
Jane scoffed, “No sir. Ten-year stop loss. I was assigned to a National Guard unit.”
“Figures. I heard they were tening Korean War vets.”
Jane glanced at Dad. “We got to get him back to camp so I can do something with his leg.”
“Search him first,” Dad ordered.