“I think it’s fine,” Jason said after taking a moment to read it.

  “Yeah, it’s great,” Kyle said. “Let’s send it now, and get ready to go.”

  {34}

  Cheese Cutter

  I t was dusk on the Brazos. The DPS patrol boats were beached just beyond the first curve south of 290.

  Brendan was finished reloading his gun, Hannah and Lee doing the same with theirs. Todd walked towards them on the bank, holding a big spool. Two of his friends flanked him.

  “Hey, man, I’ve got an idea,” Todd said. He paused a second to spit out some tobacco juice, then walked closer to them.

  “I’m listening,” Brendan said, closing the retainer over the fresh belt of grenades he’d just loaded.

  “This here is piano wire. There are a couple spots with trees on both sides of the river, a little north of the bridge. How about if I go string it across in a few places?”

  Lee laughed. “Oh, man, that’s harsh.”

  “What’s he talking about?” Hannah asked.

  “It’s simple, little lady,” Todd said. “These enemy fighters are in open canoes, going at a good clip in the dark. We string this across the river at about neck height.”

  “Eeewww,” Hannah said, the image of decapitated Islamists flashing through her mind.

  “You know, that’s a good idea,” Brendan said, “but we don’t have much time left.”

  “I’ll check the apps and see how long we have,” Hannah said.

  “Thank you kindly,” Todd said.

  “They’ve slowed a little bit,” Hannah said. “We’ve got more than an hour. Is that enough time?”

  “Hell yeah, we can finish this up in half an hour if we put our minds to it,” Todd said.

  “Okay, go for it,” Brendan said, “but when we send you a warning text, it means the enemy is close, and you need to get back here pronto. Got it?”

  “Perfect,” Todd said. He and his friends trotted back to their boat, taking off in a flash, heading north.

  “I’ll send a text to Richardson, Junior, and Eric,” Brendan said.

  “You’ve got Junior and Eric’s numbers?” Lee asked.

  “Yeah, Richardson sent them to me. He wanted us talking. I need to let them know we’ve got one of our boats going there.” He sent the text, getting a reply a few seconds later.

  “This is grizzly as hell,” Lee said, shaking his head. “I like it.”

  Hannah laughed. “Fitting right into this group, I guess.”

  Brendan chuckled as he checked his fuel tanks. “We’ve hardly used any of our gas.”

  “Should we top off?” Hannah asked.

  “Nah, I think we’re good,” Brendan said. His phone rang, so he put it on speaker. “Richardson, got my text, huh?”

  “Piano wire?”

  The sound of Juan Carlos snickering could be heard in the background.

  “Hey, it’s not a bad idea,” Brendan said. “Wonder how many of the heads end up in the canoe as opposed to the water? Maybe we ought to start a pool.”

  “I’ll take some of that action, dude,” Juan Carlos said.

  “You guys are sick,” said Madison’s muffled voice.

  “Is that all you called about?” Brendan asked.

  “No, wanted to let you know we’re sending two-thirds of our forces to your area, and thousands of recruited citizens are converging on the area as well, from all over Texas.”

  “Good, because we’ve got a lot of enemy coming.”

  “Things quiet there right now?” Lita asked.

  “For the moment,” Hannah said. “Feels like a huge battle is coming, though. Are you safe there?”

  “We’ve got fifty-thousand defenders plus three M-1 tanks guarding us,” Lita said. “We should be fine.”

  “We hope,” Madison said.

  “I got the okay from the local doctor to join in the fight here if needed,” Juan Carlos said.

  “What doctor?” Brendan asked.

  “Her name is Dr. Patel,” Juan Carlos said. “She was the lead doctor at the beginning of the Dallas operation. What a cool lady.”

  “All right, I don’t want to take too much of your attention,” Richardson said. “Stay sharp, and don’t get killed.”

  “We’ll do our best,” Lee said.

  “The action will start with us,” Hannah said. “That first group of canoes will be here at least half an hour before the others show up.”

  “Maybe as much as an hour before,” Richardson said. “We’ve been watching the screens in the intel room.”

  “Good,” Brendan said. “Stay safe, and keep your fingers crossed for us.”

  “Talk to you soon,” Richardson said. The call ended.

  They sat silently for a while, Hannah watching the apps, her phone plugged into the USB charging port now. Brendan tried to doze for a few minutes. Lee was already asleep. The other boat teams were sitting on the bank or in their boats, eating and smoking, their eyes peeled on the surrounding trees and banks.

  “Listen, motor coming,” Hannah whispered. Brendan turned to her.

  “Probably Todd, but let’s be ready. Hey, Lee, wake up.”

  “I’m awake, just resting my eyes,” Lee said, sitting up behind his gun. “Todd’s coming back, huh? He’s been gone for longer than I expected.”

  “Yeah, I was just about ready to call him,” Hannah said.

  His boat came into view around the bend, dim in the low light. He pulled up on the beach next to them.

  “Get’er done?” Lee asked.

  Todd grinned. “We went further north, and put a series of them up, at three feet above the water, four feet above the water, and five feet above the water. That ought to work for a range of cretins. They’re on the south side of three bends, too, so the enemy won’t have much chance of seeing them.”

  “It’ll be interesting to see if anything other than the first set hits pay dirt,” Lee said.

  “Oh, I don’t expect to kill very many of them this way, although they’re pretty damn stupid sometimes. I want them to have to slow down. It’ll be easier for us to kill them that way.”

  “How much of that piano wire do you have left?” Brendan asked.

  “Half the spool,” he said. “Why, thinking we’ll need it later?”

  “There’s a break between the first group of canoes and the one behind it,” Hannah said. “I’d say nearly an hour, although those rear groups have been speeding up a tad. Even the last group of canoes is past the troops on foot now.”

  “They think they’re gonna do clean up after their boats inflict losses,” Lee said. “They’re in for a surprise.”

  “Hopefully,” Hannah said.

  The crew settled into a quiet wait again, the minutes ticking off. Brendan broke out some Clif Bars and handed them around with sodas from the cooler. “Sorry, ice is about gone, these are barely cold.”

  “Tastes good to me,” Lee said.

  Brendan’s phone rang. He put it on speaker.

  “Hey, Brendan, it’s Junior. Our forward scouts are seeing the canoes now. They’re stupid, man, going full bore, in a line almost spanning the width of the river. They ain’t gonna do well when they hit those cheese cutters that Todd put out there. I suggest you get closer with those trolling motors and watch.”

  “Good idea,” Brendan said. “How many does it look like?”

  “The scout couldn’t say, because of the damn curves on this river,” Junior said. “We’ve got the apps, though, and they show up. It’s hundreds of canoes total, but only about sixty in the first wave. The rest are back almost an hour, and the infantry is back further still.”

  “Okay, we’ll saddle up, Junior. Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it. Buy you a beer after this.”

  “Deal,” Brendan said. He put his phone away, and turned on the trolling motor. “Lee, you’ll have to push us off. Not enough horsepower to get off the sand.”

  “No problem,” Lee said, leaping to his feet and jumping off the bow, giving the boat a push. He jumped in as it floated free, Brendan steering it with the trolling motor, the other boats following his lead. They moved slowly and silently on the dark river, getting to the edge of the last curve, peeking forward, just making out the bridge.

  “Damn, you can’t see that piano wire at all,” Brendan said.

  “We need to remember not to go too far in that direction until we cut them down,” Lee said.

  Brendan got up. “Shit, glad you mentioned that.” He lifted the pilot seat, pulling out the tool box, reaching in for the dikes. “We need this handy in case we have to cut the piano wire to chase those folks. They might not break down that last cheese cutter.”

  “Cheese cutter?” Hannah asked, shaking her head. “I just sent a broadcast for everybody else to get that out of their toolboxes too.”

  “I got mine handy,” Todd said from his boat, only a few feet away from theirs.

  “Listen,” Lee whispered. “Sounds like lawn mowers.”

  “They ought to be pretty close to that first string,” Todd said.

  Suddenly the sound of motors slowed, a couple still going full speed. One canoe appeared, going towards the west bank, a body in front leaned over, neck still pumping blood, the man in back missing half his head.

  “Shit, it might run into the second cheese cutter and tip them off,” Lee said.

  “Nope, it just hit the bank,” Brendan said.

  Gunfire erupted from the other side of the bridge, the engines all speeding up again, a wave of canoes racing south to get out of the line of fire.

  “They’re driving right into the second cheese cutter in a panic,” Hannah said.

  “Yeah, the gunfire is chasing them,” Brendan said. They watched as five canoes hit the next run of piano wire, several of the men in the fronts of the canoes losing their heads, canoes behind them not able to stop in time, some running into the wire too slowly to make a clean cut, men’s throats cut open as others screamed. The patriots opened fire from both sides of the bank now, killing the rest of the men, causing what was left of the boats to flee through the broken second cheese cutter, hitting the third, half of them losing their heads that time, others turning, trying to find a way out as M60s and M4s riddled them with bullets.

  “Shall we go finish this?” Lee asked.

  “Is that last cheese cutter down?” Hannah asked. “Can’t tell.”

  “No, it’s not down,” Brendan said. “Look, the enemy is turning around, heading north.”

  “I see them,” Hannah said. “There goes Todd, towards that last set of piano wire. He’s gonna cut them.”

  “Good, we need to chase those canoes,” Brendan said. They approached, watching as Todd finished cutting through the wires, and then all the patrol boats fired up their big outboards and took off after the enemy.

  “Yeeehaaaaa!” shouted Todd from the top of his lungs as his boat went forward, flanked by the others, catching the enemy canoes in seconds, blasting them, many of the Islamists diving off into the water, hit in the head as they came up for air by the multitude of patriots on the banks.

  “Geez, look how many people we’ve got,” Lee said.

  “Yeah, that’s something,” Hannah said.

  All the enemy fighters were dead in minutes, their broken canoes floating around in the river.

  “Should we reset?” Lee asked.

  “Look at the apps,” Brendan said as he turned the boat back towards the south. “That hit them so fast that they might not have gotten a call to the boats north of them.”

  “Well, they haven’t changed speed or direction,” Hannah said, watching her phone. Suddenly the boat rocked, hands on the side, a man trying to climb in with a big knife in his teeth. Hannah screamed, jumping back as the man got half way into the boat, Lee’s heavy booted foot kicking him full in the face, the knife cutting into the enemy’s cheeks, his eyes filled with terror as Hannah pointed her sidearm at his head and fired, blood splattering around the side of the boat as the man’s lifeless body slipped into the water.

  “Son of a bitch,” Lee said, trying to catch his breath, Hannah staring at the blood-splattered side of the boat in horror.

  “Keep it together,” Brendan shouted. “It was him or us.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried about him, believe me,” Hannah said.

  Todd’s boat cruised over. “You guys okay?”

  “Yeah, fine. Want to reset for the next wave?”

  Todd grinned. “Oh, you want more piano wire set up, do you?”

  “I’d only do one set this time,” Brendan said. “Maybe the last one before the bridge, so our guys from shore can shoot and get them moving south in a panic.”

  “I like how you think,” Todd said. “How long do we have?”

  “Only about twenty minutes at the speed they’re coming, so I’d hurry it up,” Hannah said.

  “Hey, everybody, get back beyond the bridge,” Todd shouted to the other boats. “I’m gonna reset the piano wire.”

  The patrol boats went back to their waiting spot, watching Todd work quickly to string three lines of piano wire across the river.

  {35}

  Channels and Tank Farms

  J ason, Curt, and Kyle rode in Jason’s Jeep Wrangler, Hassan and Ahmed following in Kelly’s truck, several more vehicles behind them with Stanton’s warriors and a handful of ex-Special Forces bikers. The road was dark, dusk setting in the hour before.

  “How soon will Stanton, Eric, and Jax be here?” Jason asked from the driver’s seat.

  “Couple hours, give or take,” Curt said, looking up from his phone screen. “We should get on foot when this road crosses 332.”

  “Yeah, I agree, bro,” Kyle said. “Looking at the satellite pictures now. We won’t have as much cover as I’d like.”

  Jason’s phone rang. He pulled it out and put it on the center console, pushing the speaker button. “Talk to me.”

  “It’s Don. You guys making good time?”

  “We’re just passing FM 2004,” Curt said. “You got that info for us?”

  “The spreadsheet,” Don said. “Yeah. There’s only two high-ranking folks there. One’s named Davis Baqri. The other is named Maadini Sadri. I texted both to Hassan and Ahmed a few minutes ago.”

  “Davis is an American, isn’t he?” Kyle asked.

  “Yeah, from Minnesota,” Don said. “Go figure.”

  “How high is their rank?” Jason asked.

  “Both are third from the top. Saladin was a two, for point of reference.”

  “That’s pretty high,” Kyle said.

  “This is their last big operation, so they’ve got their best, from what we’re hearing.”

  “Are either of them religious fanatics?” Jason asked.

  “Both of them have been at times, but Maadini Sadri is the one who’s acted on it the most.”

  “What’s he done?” Curt asked.

  “Threw homosexuals off roofs, stoned women who got caught in adultery, and led a group of kids who were being used as suicide bombers in Gaza about ten years ago. He’s a real piece of work. The other one made his name as an activist who advocated against Islamophobia in the upper Midwest.”

  Curt snickered. “Yeah, bet that gig is a little harder than it used to be.”

  “So what you’re telling me is that at least one of these cretins may blow everything and not bat an eye.”

  “That’s what it looks like, but we should wait to hear what Hassan and Ahmed have to say. There is one thing that may be helpful.”

  “What’s that?” Curt asked.

  “Those two guys don’t like each other. There’s been a war of words going on between them, on and off for a few years before the invasion. It’s been non-existent during the war, though, so maybe they buried the hatchet.”

  “Really?” Jason asked. “What was the war of words about?”

  “Maadini Sadri openly pushed for punishment of those who break Sharia, even in western countries. Davis thought that was counter-productive. He wanted to grow the Muslim population and encourage them to become politically active. We think Saladin valued both approaches.”

  “Where are they located in the facility?” Kyle asked.

  “Look at the text I sent to you guys. It’s got the codes to use. You can set your apps to highlight those guys. Right now they’re both in the same building, along the water on the southeastern tip of the Texas Chemical main plant, overlooking the docks.”

  “Got it,” Curt said. “See them. They’re not in the same room. Looks like they’re on opposite ends of that long building.”

  “Chance is running the history app on the island, updating every two minutes,” Don said. “It’s doable on a space that small.”

  Jason glanced over at Curt, then looked at the phone. “Good, just make sure somebody’s doing that on the wider area, so we catch any large groups that might be arriving unexpectedly.”

  “We’ve got plenty of coverage,” Don said. “I’ll let you go. Godspeed.”

  “Later, man,” Kyle said. The call ended.

  “One of you call Ahmed. I think Hassan is driving.”

  “I got it,” Kyle said. He tapped Ahmed’s contact and put the phone on speaker. Ahmed picked up after a couple rings.

  “Kyle, how are you?” Ahmed asked.

  “Good, you?”

  “Nervous, but with resolve. You’re calling about the names?”

  “Yes. Recognize either of them?”

  “Maadini Sadri is a problem,” Hassan said from the background.

  “Yes, Maadini Sadri is bad. Hope he’s not the principle. He has no concept of human life at all. He’s just a murderer who uses the religion as justification for his carnage.”

  “Wonderful,” Curt said. “How about the other one?”

  “Politician,” Ahmed said. “Moderate, basically, but look what he’s involved with. We might be able to count on his cowardice, if he’s in charge. I’m surprised they put these two together.”

  “I’m not,” Hassan said. “Maadini Sadri is a moron who appears to be a strong leader because he’s kept his men terrified of him. Davis is smart, at least. Corrupt and evil, but smart. He’ll not do anything that might result in himself getting hurt.”

 

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