Home Coming (The Survivalist Book 10) by A. American (ebook reader .TXT) 📕

“You know where we’re going, asshole. We’re going to get the power up to your neighborhood first, then we’re going to come back and start checking side lines and restoring power to Umatilla.”

“You have all the parts to pull this off?”

Baker laughed, “Hell no! But we’re scavenging parts as we go. We’ll make it happen.”

Sarge had made his way over and said, “Of course you will!”

“Hey,” I said to Baker, “We’re going to Alexander Springs tomorrow. You guys should come with us.”

“What?” Sarge asked.

“You heard me,” I replied.

From up in the bucket, Terry shouted down, “Hell yes, we’ll go! I could use a day off and swimming sounds like a damn fine way to spend that day!”

“When were you going to tell me about this little field trip?” Sarge asked.

“I would’ve earlier this morning. But you had your ass in a knot.”

“Whaaaat?” Baker asked in exaggeration. Looking at Sarge, she said, “You had your ass in a knot? But you’re such a people person.”

If Baker had been a man, Sarge would have had plenty to say to her. But he held his tongue and worked his jaw. His eyes narrowed as Baker smiled at him, waiting for his response. Finally, he spit on the ground and walked away. Baker laughed and said, “See you next time, Top.”

I looked over my shoulder as the old man walked away. Turning back to Baker, I said, “You guys come out to the house tomorrow morning and we’ll head up to Alexander. It’ll be fun. We’ve got some meat we’ll grill, make a day of it.”

“Sounds good to me,” Baker said.

“Me too,” Eric added.

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow. I guess we have shit to do.” Looking up the pole, I shouted to Terry, “See you tomorrow! Bring a swim suit and no banana hammock!”

“Eww!” Baker shouted.

I laughed and headed for the truck where Sarge was waiting, fuming. Climbing in, I looked over and asked, “You get your ass in a knot again?”

“Fuck you, asshole. You’re a dick. You know that?” He shot back.

I nodded, “So that’s what you wanted to say to Baker. Whadda you got for me?”

As he started the truck, the old man shot back, “That was for you! I wouldn’t talk to a woman like that!”

I laughed. “Yeah, ok, it’s your lie, you tell it. Let’s get to town so we can get back to the house.”

We didn’t talk for the rest of the way to the armory. Rolling in behind the building, we hopped out and I followed the old man inside. Sheffield was waiting for us in the conference room when we came in and took a seat.

“Morning, fellers.” Sarge said as he sat down.

“Morning,” Livingston replied.

“What’s on your mind,” Sheffield asked.

Sarge sat drumming his fingers on the table for a moment before answering him. “I’ve been on the horn with Eglin. They want to eliminate the commie issue here in Central Florida.”

“And what do they suggest we do?” Livingston asked.

Sarge looked up and smiled. “They want to hit them with a B1. One strike and wipe them out.”

Sheffield was obviously surprised. “What?”

The old man nodded and replied, “You heard me.”

“Holy shit,” Livingston added.

“Holy shit indeed,” Sarge said. “But it’s the best way for us to get rid of them, with nearly no risk to our people.”

“What the hell are they waiting on then?” Sheffield asked.

“We need to get some people over there and put eyes on ‘em. I picked up a laser when I was up north. They want us to get people in place and paint the target, so there’s no chance of a miss.”

“Let’s get some folks out there then. I’ve been really worried about this. If they hit us once, they’ll hit us again,” Sheffield said.

Sarge nodded, “We’re going to. In a couple of days, I’m going to send Mike and Ted out to identify the target. That’ll give Eglin a couple of days to get the strike organized as well. Things aren’t as easy as they once used to be.”

“That’s great,” Livingston said. “If this works, then we will be rid of the last threat we have.”

“That’s the idea,” Sarge replied. “I’ll stay in touch with you as we work this thing up. Just keep your patrols out in case they try sneaking in. You still have people out on 441?”

Sheffield nodded. “Oh yeah. They’re doing forty-eight-hour watches. Six men are out at a time.”

“Good. Keep that up. If this works, in a couple of days, we can all relax.”

“Damn, I hope so,” Sheffield replied.

Sarge got to his feet, “We’ll see you boys in a couple of days. You need anything?”

Sheffield shook his head. “No, we’re good.”

“Where’s Cecil?”

“I saw him on his tractor this morning headed towards his corn patch,” Livingston said.

“Alright, I’ll check on him on the way back.”

I followed the old man out, without having said a single word in the meeting. Why had I come? In the Hummer I asked that question.

“Say, Colonel. Why the hell was I there again?”

The old man shot daggers at me. “I already told you not to call me that.”

Seeing he was irritated made me smile. “That’s beside the point. No one said a word to me and I didn’t have shit to offer on the situation. So, why was I there?”

“Just shut up and sit there,” he barked back at me. Looking out through the windshield, he shook his head.

I laughed to myself but didn’t push it. He was already irritated. We found Cecil in the cornfield. The corn was tall, over your head. Cecil was sitting in the seat of his tractor, under the shade of the only oak tree around.

Seeing us pull up, Cecil smiled his typical broad smile and waved before climbing down from the machine. “Morning, Linus, Morgan. What sort of trouble are you two up to today?”

“Oh, whatever we can find,” Sarge replied with a smile.

“I’m just here to carry his golf clubs,” I said.

Sarge shot me a look, “Oh, dry up, Nancy.”

Cecil