Warning:  “Operation SERF” contains the following elements which readers of different genres may separately find disturbing:  pre-censored profanity, acts of bodacious violence, and (debuting in Part 7) a love triangle. 

 

Operation SERF

 

Part 7

 

By Chris Sullins

 

A moment in time for Daniel Shroud, age 14, early one summer in the morning before the mosquitoes and heat rose for the day.

 

“Good job,” said Mike Shroud as he looked through the spotting scope and the echo of Daniel’s last shot faded.  “You hit the bulls-eye again.”

 

“Uncle Mike, this is starting to hurt my shoulder,” said Daniel as he removed the rifle stock from his right shoulder and rubbed the collar bone under his t-shirt with his left hand.  He was in the probe position on the wet grass that had been mowed yesterday.  “I’m going to be sitting on a tree-stand or standing in field when I shoot at a deer.”

 

“Probably,” stated Mike from his prone position on the rolled out olive drab foam mat next to Daniel.  “Right now we’re working on your marksmanship.  But, if you could take a shot from a supported position like this, you would use it.  Here’s another round.”

 

“I haven’t missed yet, but you act like I’m not good enough yet,” said Daniel as he took the single cartridge from his uncle’s hand, put it in the open bolt action under the scope, and slowly pushed the cartridge forward.  “How will we know when I’m ready?”

 

“When that target downrange turns into a negative image while you’re looking at it, then you’ll know,” replied Mike as he looked sideways at Daniel.  “But, that won’t happen if you’re thinking about the pain in your shoulder.”

 

“My arms are itching and my pants are wet from this grass…”

 

“You think you’re going to feel more comfortable out here in November after three hours in the wind, snow, and rain?” Mike broke in.  “Now take your last shot.”

 

The shot rang out as Mike finished his sentence and it was followed by a half muffled yelp of pain from Daniel.  The elder Shroud looked through the spotting scope and then purposely let out a breath that would have been loud enough to express his displeasure had his younger partner not been wearing ear plugs.  He looked over at Daniel who was already turned toward him.

 

“What?” barked Daniel far above what was required to be heard over the ear plugs.

 

“That barely touched the paper,” Mike said.  “These bullets are too expensive to waste on your attitude.”

 

“Well, fine then,” said Daniel as he let the heavy barreled rifle drop a few inches sideways and one of the long target scope knobs planted itself in the grass.

 

“Pick that up!” ordered Mike.  “You don’t let optics flop on the ground like that.”

 

“You care more about that gun getting damaged than me,” Daniel said after he stood up and began pulling out his ear plugs.

 

“You can heal,” said Mike as he continued his gruff tone and picked up the rifle.  “This gun will rust and the optics can get scratched or broken.  Besides, you still need to get toughened up.”

 

“I am tough,” Daniel mumbled before he began a walk which turned into a run into the woods a few yards away.  After Daniel was deeper in the woods, but still able to see Mike in the field through breaks in the trees, he screamed “I thought you would understand!”

 

As Daniel disappeared a few seconds later into the background darkness of the woods, Mike said out loud but still audibly below the chirping of the birds “Yes, I should have.”

 

*           *           *

 

“BB,” said Trooper Browning’s wife as she looked through the front window from inside their house after the driveway sensor let out three separate dings.  “Three vehicles just pulled up.  I haven’t seen them before.  Are these the guys you told me about?”

 

Browning leapt up from his easy chair but still carefully dropped his personal DVD player on the padded cushion.  He went straight to the window next to his wife where she had been warming herself near the woodstove.  He recognized the vehicles immediately.

 

“Wendy,” he said with a clear tone of urgency.  “Yes, they’re the ones.  They’re very dangerous.  Go to the safe room.  No matter what you hear –don’t open the door.”

 

“Just talk to them,” said Wendy as she walked across the room and opened the door to the basement.  “Tell them something like there’s an investigation with your state commander underway already.”

 

“Sure thing, honey, we’ll just talk,” Browning said before she stepped through and closed the door behind her.

 

Browning looked back out the window to see that all three vehicles had stopped and four occupants had stepped out of each one.  Two men in gray from the lead vehicle stood facing the house while two others talked and looked at a small cell-phone size object held by one man.  The occupants of the second and third vehicles behind in line on the long snow-covered driveway between the bare trees stood next to their respective vehicles.  Other than the two men who were talking, everyone held their assault rifles at low-ready. 

 

The two men walked straight toward the pole barn which was at a right angle to the Browning’s garage attached to their house.  The walk through entry door was to the far right front side of the red pole barn next to two large double overhead doors.  The gray man who wasn’t holding the small device immediately kicked open the flimsy entry door and quickly went through it with his weapon held up.

 

“Oh, sh-t,” Browning said out loud before he turned and went across the room to the stairs leading up to the second floor.  The open stairwell faced the front door to the house and was next to the closed basement door.  He raced up the steps.

 

Once upstairs Browning looked through the window from one of the front bedrooms.  He had a view overlooking the entire area where all the men were parked in a straight line.  It seemed to him that the second of the first two men had already entered the pole barn and a third man with his weapon raised was on his way into it as well.  The fourth man from the lead vehicle had walked over to the entry door, but had remained on the outside with his weapon pointed back toward the front door of Browning’s house.  The men from the other two vehicles had suddenly become more alert with all of them either pointing their weapons back toward the house or off to both sides of the driveway and into the woods.

 

Browning knew the three gray men in the pole barn would immediately see their comrade’s vehicle and then find the three filled body bags placed along the back wall.  It didn’t take a federal profiler or professional psychologist to guess that their emotions would range from very anxious to fully enraged.  Their behavioral reactions would also include a range of responses with each having a number of variables and possible outcomes weighed.  The likelihood of any one of these responses taking final form in real life would have been up for a vibrant debate among the experts of the ivory tower.

 

Browning wasn’t a papered academic, he was a concrete realist and the events within the past week had quickly tempered his view of the reality of life emerging in America.  He picked up the grenade the dead gray man had threatened him with and put the end of its spoon inside of his belt.  Browning then picked up the belt-fed machinegun which had been among the weapons and bodies left behind in the tavern.  He had told his wife about what had happened and left both weapons in this upper bedroom “just in case”.  He reflected for a moment about his two adult children who had moved away –one for college last year and the other for a career in the military four years before that.  His wife had missed them, but he was glad they weren’t home now.

 

Browning’s hypothesis for the potential situation was quite simple:  if the gray men forced their way into his home, it would not be for a civilized talk but for revenge.   Rather than submit to the gray men and in all likelihood die at their hands, followed by the gray men forcing their way into his wife’s safe room for more nefarious pre-murder acts with her, Browning would fight them once they crossed the front door’s threshold.  He was fairly certain his assumption was about to become tested in the real-life gladiatorial arena where the confidence interval of measuring aggressive human behavior usually expresses itself in gushes of blood, the release of bowels and bladders, and the screams of pain.  

 

Browning saw all three men who went into the pole barn come back out, yell something to the fourth and then all four went straight toward his front door and out of the line of his sight.  Browning left the bedroom and went to the backside of the stairwell facing behind where the steps came up.  There was no knock at his front door, it simply burst open and Browning could hear multiple steps quickly enter his front room. 

 

He had already shifted the machinegun to a curled inner arm, took the grenade with his free hand and pulled the ring of the straightened pin with a free finger on the other hand.  Browning, let the grenade’s spoon fly off into the bedroom behind him, leaned over the rail while still keeping the machinegun firmly cradled, and with the forward overhead sweep of the other arm sent the grenade from the ledge above to the main entry room below. 

 

There seemed to be no shift in the sound of commotion indicating a change of awareness by the men to the silently ignited weapon.  Browning shifted back around into the bedroom with the machinegun in both hands.  Two seconds later there was a sharp explosion which Browning felt hammer his feet through the floor and simultaneously accompanied by a blast of dust and change in air pressure up the stairwell which he felt in his eyes.

 

Browning’s ears were ringing and he was unable to hear the screams from the gray men as he advanced farther forward along the upper landing and turned to look back down the entire flight of stairs.  He immediately saw one unmoving man with a torn and bloody gray uniform at the bottom of his stairs.  Browning ducked down to get a better angle and looked out into the room below.  He could see another man writhing around in the center of the entry room floor as another man crawled toward the door with a prodigious amount of blood spurting out of one thigh.  Another apparently uninjured man jumped over the crawling man and toward the open front door.

 

Browning let out a burst of machinegun fire as the only upright man sailed through the door jamb.  Bullets tagged the man at the base of his spine and buttocks while at the height of his gazelle-like bounce which sent him careening out and rolling sideways into the snow outside.  Without hesitation Browning sprayed both the crawling and writhing men inside the house with bullet across their heads and shoulders causing them to come to a complete stop.  A second later he did the same to the motionless man at the bottom of the stairs who remained mostly still except where the bullets jiggled his flesh and bone.

 

He looked back out the open front door and saw the previously jumping man attempt to swim his way forward through the snow, but who could only claw with his hands since his legs were completely limp.  Browning sent out another barrage peppering the man with red gouges from head to toe before the machinegun consumed the remaining belt of ammo and left the box attached below it empty. 

 

Browning raced back to the front room, grabbed another full box of belted ammo and prepared to reload his weapon.  He glanced out the window and saw the men clustered around the second vehicle begin firing their assault rifles at the house.  Browning rushed to the back of the second floor and toward the rear bedroom where the stairs came up. 

 

He went through the door as he heard retorts from multiple weapons, the splintering of wood, chipping of plaster, and front windows breaking on both floors.  Browning turned the corner with his back to the wall and sank to the floor before he started fumbling with the weapon. 

 

He briefly wished he had spent more time practicing reloading the weapon rather than watching a movie.  He wondered how the thought of regret had even found a place to express itself in spite of everything.  Browning remembered the police radio he had in the kitchen at the back of the first floor.  It was turned off and had been charging off the DC battery bank that formed his home’s power supply.

 

*           *           *

 

Daniel and Jacques had stopped the snowmobile a couple hundred yards away in the woods to the side of the Browning home and had been quietly making their way toward the trooper’s family residence.  Daniel would raise his rifle and look through the scope.  By doing this it was possible for Daniel to see some of the red pole barn between the trees.  He and Jacques would advance another 25 yards before he scanned the area again through the glass.  Daniel could see the three vehicles and some of the armed men as they advanced.

 

When the firing at the house began, Daniel immediately kneeled at the edge of a tree.  He estimated they were still at least 100 yards away from the last vehicle and glassed the area again with his scope.  Daniel could see one of the men at the edge of the second vehicle firing his weapon toward the Browning home.  Daniel swept the scope to the last vehicle and saw three men with it.  One was standing at the open driver’s side door and facing toward the house while two others were at the back of the SUV. 

 

One man who was standing on the back right side faced directly away from Daniel while the other at the back left corner was knelt down.  This last man was closer to Daniel and was slowly turning counter clockwise as he looked over the top of the iron sights on the assault rifle he had up to his right cheek.  The man’s eyes met Daniel’s through the magnified view of his scope.  For a moment the lines and shapes inside the scope became both brighter and sharper before Daniel realized the man had his own weapon pointing straight at him, too.

 

Daniel pulled the trigger and saw the man’s face disappear above the lower jaw before the recoil of the rifle sent the scope’s picture straight up where he saw the man’s helmet flip in mid air.  Daniel quickly recovered and placed the crosshairs back over the rear area of the SUV.  Daniel reflected for a moment that just before he pulled the trigger the picture had seemed to turn even more black and white right before his eyes than he thought was attributable to the winter landscape alone.  He just as quickly noticed the red blood was clearly visible across the back glossy window of the vehicle. 

 

Daniel had unconsciously cycled the bolt action and re-chambered another live round as the other man at the back of the vehicle crouched and began to turn toward him as well.  Daniel focused his complete attention toward that man and quickly shifted the crosshairs right over the man’s first button between the collar bones.  Rather than elevate for perfection Daniel opted to deliver his second shot.  The man flew backwards with his arms hailing toward the air before completely disappeared from sight in the snow.

 

The gray man on the driver’s side had unleashed a volley of automatic fire toward the brightly-coated Jacques who was standing to the left of the tree which Daniel had leaned against.  Jacques stood his ground and continued to capture the action on video as bullets snapped into the bark of trees in front, behind, and both sides of him.  A third shot from Daniel impacted that gray man directly center mass which caused him to cease fire, bounce backwards into the vehicle, and drop his rifle, but not go down.

 

The gray man didn’t reach down for his rifle and scrambled into the driver’s seat instead.  He habitually reached forward and closed his door before the reverse taillights lit up.  A fourth shot from Daniel shattered the driver’s side window and the vehicle continued to roll in a slow reverse until it backed into a tree and came to a complete stop.  A fourth gray man got out of the stopped vehicle from the side facing away from Daniel.

 

Daniel held his fire as that man ran toward the group’s second vehicle which had re-filled with its four men and almost ran him over as it went backwards down the driveway without stopping.  Daniel placed his crosshairs over the remaining man who held his weapon at the ready and then turned toward the house.  The man went down due to someone else’s bullet impact as Daniel heard a short string of fire further to his left.  Daniel turned further to his left and glassed the front area of the house. 

 

It was still difficult to see due to the trees, but he spotted a lone figure moving away from the house and down the driveway toward the fallen man.  Daniel glimpsed the face of Browning for a moment through the branches.  Shroud lowered his rifle and looked back toward Jacques who already had the camera pointed at him.

 

“Talk,” said Jacques.

 

“What do you want me to say?” asked Daniel.

 

“Talk,” said Jacques again with the camera pointed toward Daniel.

 

Daniel tried to think of something witty or profound, but said “You’re a better cameraman than a reporter.”

 

“Please talk more,” said Jacques again when Daniel remained kneeling silently for a few more seconds.

 

“Good God,” said Daniel.  “That’s enough already.”

 

“Who is that?” yelled Browning.  “Answer me or I’ll shoot!”

 

“It’s Danny.  Danny Shroud.  Danny Shroud and a stupid French guy.”

 

*           *           *

 

The gray men who had escaped in their vehicle made their way south along a county road.  They had opted to take a new way back to the southern part of Michigan rather than risk an ambush along the state route.  The road was under virgin snow and had seen no usage by other vehicles.  Other than the occasional abandoned home along the way, there was little to break the white landscape with its long stands of trees. 

 

The only outside communication for them had been a satellite phone which was lost among the men killed who had attempted the entry into the house.  It was a device which combined communication, real-time satellite terrain maps, and tracking of each of their vehicles.  Despite the loss of this piece of technology, this group still had a vehicle GPS unit with a pre-installed map of all US roads circa 2012.

 

Sometime after dark they had to double-back after being stopped on a narrow road by two very large downed trees which stretched all the way across from one forest to another.   They used a lateral road which would take them to another road going south again.  The blowing wind and the lightly falling snow made it difficult to see in the dark, but they stayed on the correct path with the GPS.

 

The old base map wasn’t capable of telling the driver that one of the roads had been washed out ahead.  Even with the headlights cutting into the black background, the white on white foreground left little time for the driver to react to the dark spot which suddenly appeared before them.  The vehicle plunged into the widely eroded deep culvert below. 

 

The driver and the passenger in front were initially saved by their air bags but immediately found they were pinned by their legs when the front quarter panels, engine, and dashboard crumpled backwards on impact.  The passenger behind the driver had not been wearing a seatbelt and flew over top of the driver’s headrest and instantly fatally ate the top of the driver’s helmet.  As water filled the front area of the vehicle up to the waists of the trapped men, the only uninjured back passenger opened his door, stepped out, and slipped.  He landed backwards into the water of the small stream running under the broken ice surrounding the vehicle.

 

This last lost man would wander wet and shivering a few miles back down the same road before collapsing in the snow and dying of hypothermia like his pinned in comrades.  The next day a pack of wolves would discover his body on the road and a murder of crows would find the bodies of the others through the broken windows a few days later.  Hundreds of miles away the frail man on the Committee would make a note on his laptop regarding a single dot representing a team that came to a complete stop before the signal was lost a few seconds later.

 

*           *           *

 

The small flip-phone rang once on the nightstand under the double lamp which had both bulbs turned on.  The stand was next to two king-size beds that had been pushed together.  As the phone rang again one human form under the covers which was nestled tightly between two other human forms rolled over top of one them.  This was followed by a female giggle.  A male hand reached out from under the covers and grabbed the phone as it rang a third time.

 

“Hello, this is the Chairman,” responded the Chairman.

 

“This is Mond.”

 

Mond,” said the Chairman as he came out naked from under the covers and grabbed a robe off the floor next to two other robes.  The females pulled down the covers from over their heads.  Cass and Stacey remained silent as the Chairman continued “I haven’t heard from you for a few days.  How have things been going for you?”

 

“I would say things have been going very well overall.”

 

“Well, that’s good to hear.  I figured you’ve been staying at least one step ahead of a lot of people right now,” said the Chairman as he slid on the robe one sleeve at a time, switched hands with the phone and walked right up to the window looking out on Lake Michigan from his penthouse suite.

 

“I’m not interrupting anything right now am I?”

 

“No, um, nothing of importance,” said the Chairman as he looked up into the unbroken sheet of black clouds in the dark night sky before he swept a curtain across the entire window and stepped backward from it.  “Is there something I can do for you right now?”

 

“Well, yes.  My assistant and I could use a place to stay in the Midwest right now.  It would be just for a few days until I can arrange some long distance travel.”

 

“I’m not sure I can help you with that,” said the Chairman as he waved the two females out of bed and motioned for them to put on their robes as well.

 

“Really.  Now why is that?”

 

“You tend to bring a lot of heat with you,” said the Chairman as he pushed the women through the next room and toward the elevator door.  “You’re the kind of person who shows up and no matter what the time of the year it is, the weather always gets worse.  Things are really good for us right now and I don’t want to see that change.  You know what I mean?”

 

“I understand.  But, temporary sanctuary for me from our common enemies is very little burden on you.  In fact, it is very little for me to get in return for all that I have done for you.”

 

“We really do appreciate your assistance,” said the Chairman as all three entered the elevator and he pushed the button for the deepest subbasement level.  “But we still can’t do that for you right now.  That’s a lot of attention.  That would entail a lot of risk we’re not able to take on.  I’m sorry.  I hope you’re not taking this personally.”

 

“No, I’m not.  And just to show you our working relationship is still positive, I’m going to advise you in advance of some video from one of your northern wild areas which is going to hit the news soon.  I’m going to strongly advise you not to overreact after you see one of your officers executed…”

 

“Did you do this?” interrupted the Chairman.

 

“No.  Be quiet and listen.  Do not overreact to this incident.  Go ahead and round up the perpetrators and have a formal televised trial for them.  This will help establish your credibility in the eyes of the people.  But, do not increase the overall speed of the depopulation program in that area.  Continue it at the same pace which I advised five years ago at the closed hearing…”

 

“A lot has changed since then,” the Chairman broke in again.  “You’re not really in a position to see what’s been going on…”

 

“Close your mouth.  Nothing has changed since then.  That plan is still perfect as written.  I don’t want you to get lost in extracurricular diversions in the meantime.”

 

“By the way,” the Chairman began, “how did you even get my number?  This is an encrypted phone on our closed COW system.”

 

“Actually, it’s Cass’s phone.  Now tell her she still looks very fetching.”

 

The Chairman turned the phone over, saw the small camera lens in the top of the flip cover, realized Cass had been standing in the elevator on that side, and said “You’re seeing everything?”

 

“Dumb question.  Good night.”

 

“D-mn it!” said the Chairman as he hyper-extended the flip cover until it broke off the phone, then pulled the battery pack off the back of the phone and snapped the main body in half as well.  “Cass, I’m sorry about your phone.”

 

“That’s not my phone,” said Cass.  “It’s back upstairs in my pants.  You just broke your own phone.  Get a grip about whatever he just told you.”

 

“He mentioned you by name being with me right now,” said the Chairman.

 

“I’m sure he read about us in a file and took an educated guess,” reassured Cass.  Mond is messing with your head.”

 

“Did he say anything about me?” asked Stacey.

 

“No, not at all,” said the Chairman.

 

The elevator door opened with a ding and a guard in a gray uniform sitting at a desk just a few feet away looked up from a magazine at the three people standing in robes in the elevator who didn’t come out.  The Chairman then pushed and held the button keeping the elevators doors wide open.

 

“Everything ok, sir?” the guard asked as he laid the magazine down.

 

“Any problems with the building or security or anything like that right now?” asked the Chairman.  “How are the skies above us?”

 

“No, sir, no reports of anything,” replied the guard.  “The perimeter above and below ground is secure.  The sky is clear.  It has been for days.”

 

“We’re just out for a ride on the elevator,” said Cass as she took the Chairman’s thumb off the door button and pushed the penthouse floor button herself.

 

“Keep up the good work,” said the Chairman as he gave the guard a thumb up.

 

“Thank you, sir,” said the guard and as the door closed he looked down at Stacey’s bare legs.

 

“I’m cold,” said Stacey after the door closed and they began going up.  A few seconds later she pushed the button for another floor right before the elevator got to it and said “I’m going back to my own room and turn on the electric fireplace.”

 

“Nothing like a warm place and a good book to curl up with,” said Cass as the door opened and Stacey stepped off.

 

“Shut up,” said Stacey leaving her back turned to them as the door closed.

 

“What’s up with her?” asked the Chairman.

 

“It’s a female thing,” replied Cass.  “You wouldn’t understand.”

 

“Oh, it’s that time of the month,” commented the Chairman.

 

“You still don’t get it,” said Cass.  “Don’t even try to figure it out.”

 

End of Part 7

 

Part 6:

 

http://www.oftwominds.com/opSERF/op-serf-p6.html

 

Part 5:

 

http://www.oftwominds.com/journal08/sullins12e-08.html

 

Part 4:

 

http://www.oftwominds.com/journal08/sullins12d-08.html

 

Part 3:

 

http://www.oftwominds.com/journal08/sullins12c-08.html

 

Part 2:

 

http://www.oftwominds.com/journal08/sullins12b-08.html

 

Part 1:

 

http://www.oftwominds.com/journal08/sullins12a-08.html

 

New special notes from Chris Sullins:  If you’ve enjoyed reading this story, please consider making a donation to the oftwominds.com website.  Charles Hugh Smith has graciously provided space for it on his website for your reading enjoyment.  Although it’s from a genre outside the commentary and other essays which usually appear on OTM, I thank Mr. Smith in presenting this to a far wider audience than I would have been able to do on my own.  He has done this in the spirit of the First Amendment and in the fine tradition of experienced writers supporting new writers.  I give similar thanks to those people who’ve also linked from their websites and/or emailed friends and family.

 

This “strategic action thriller” has been hastily constructed one part at a time and appears as my schedule permits it.  There are bound to be some errors.  I have every intention of completing this as a free full online novel.  If there is sufficient interest, then the story you see here will be BOOK ONE and there will be another.  I may post a public email address in the future for comments, critiques, scathing reviews, mark-ups, praise, thanks or indifference from the online community. 

 

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons or events in the past, present, or future is probably either out of sheer coincidence or due to the cyclical nature of history.  The writer existing at this point in the timeline has no conscious awareness of any pending events which in later hindsight may seem have been due to currently unknown acts of retroactive causality emanating from future points. 

 

For more on a wide array of other topics, please visit the oftwominds.com weblog.



All content, HTML coding, format design, design elements and images copyright © 2009 Charles Hugh Smith, copyright to text and all other content in the above work is held by the author of the essay as of the publication date listed above. All rights reserved in all media.

The views of the contributor authors are their own, and do not reflect the views of Charles Hugh Smith. All errors and errors of omission in the above essay are the sole responsibility of the essay's author.

The writer(s) would be honored if you linked this Readers Journal essay to your site, or printed a copy for your own use.