John O'Brien - Dissension

“Look, we didn’t know and we were just out looking for supplies. If we’d have known, we wouldn’t have come into town. Just let us go and we’ll be on our way. If not, we’ll pick you apart from in here,” a reply from the store shouts out.

The burly man laughs, “There’s not enough of you to do that. You should have seen the signs posted. Save your women. Last warning.”

I look at Robert lying a few feet away questioning about the signs the guy mentioned. I sure didn’t see any so I don’t know how anyone else would have. He shrugs a response back. Oh well, they should have made it clearer. I’m not about to stand for this bullying bullshit. I’ve seen it way too much and it’s getting rather tiring.

“Try us if you think you have the balls. You’ll have to come in and get us,” the man inside the store shouts in return.

I like the guy in the store. Good guy or bad, I like his attitude. Of course, they aren’t in a good position to be boastful or egg the other group on. They’re surrounded and I’m guessing there isn’t a back door or they would have used it.

“Henderson, Jack here,” I say.

“Go ahead, sir,” Henderson replies.

“Can you see the back of the building? Is there anyone posted outside?”

“Standby, sir.”

A few seconds pass. “I have a clear view of the rear for a ways back and I don’t see anyone there,” he says.

“Okay. We’re in position behind the group out front. I’m initiating verbal contact with them. Standby,” I state.

“Roger that, sir, we’re standing by,” Henderson responds.

“We’re here and ready when you need, Jack,” Greg says.

“Greg, start ‘er up and bring it to the corner,” I say.

“Be there in just a sec,” he replies.

“This is Captain Walker. You are covered on all sides. Everyone slowly lay your weapons on the ground. That goes for everyone inside and out,” I shout.

The men behind the trucks, especially the large man and those around him, turn quickly toward the sound of my voice. They look side to side searching for where we are. The bushes and tree limbs are hiding us well. I see panic and bewilderment form on many of the faces. Some, including their apparent leader, bring their guns up as if they’ll just fire randomly and fight their way out.

“Don’t even fucking think about it. You’ll be dead before the bullet leaves the barrel,” I state.

Heads swivel to the sound of my voice but I can tell they are still having a hard time locating my exact position. Some are still turning their heads and the big man’s is twisting from me to the store front. He knows he is surrounded now regardless of where we might be. Losing face is not his exact favorite thing to do and he knows his bullying is what keeps him the leader of this group. At least, that’s what he thinks. And it may well be the case.

“Lay your weapons on the fucking ground… Now!” I shout. “Those who do will make it through the next few minutes still breathing. Those who don’t will see what awaits them in the next world. I’m not fucking kidding around here! Now, anyone want to be a hero?”

I see several have located me hidden underneath the branches. Or at least they have located where my voice is coming from. I also notice that the barrels of the weapons that were protruding from the store windows have vanished. That’s either a good thing or bad but I’m taking it as a good sign. We are in a decent position regardless of what happens next.

The whine of the Stryker approaching barely penetrates the babbling of the stream directly behind me. Several begin to lay their weapons to the ground at my gentle request. They look toward the sound coming their way. The mammoth turning the corner hastens the actions of some and their weapons clatter to the ground. A few begin to stand back up at the sound of the approaching Stryker. I have no idea what they think they can do against it armed as they are. It’s most likely an instinctive reaction.

“I would highly recommend you don’t do what’s going through your mind,” I shout. “Fire on us and you lose your free pass.”

All of the men gathered look stricken with a few turning toward the beefy man asking what they should do. The men who were lowering their weapons freeze in their position. The leader is in a tough spot and he knows it. He doesn’t want to sacrifice himself and is looking for a way to save face — something that he can say ‘it’s not worth it’ or something to that effect. Well, I do not really want to give him that chance. If he’s allowed to do that, he’ll just return and make for more trouble. We still have the search for the soldier’s family and I don’t want to be lingering around with these assholes trying to think of a way to get back at us.

“Greg, a warning burst down the middle of the street if you please,” I say on the radio.

“I aim to please,” I hear his reply.

“That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard… ever!” I state.

His reply is lost as the.50 cal opens up with a quick burst. The chunk… chunk… chunk… of the heavy caliber fills the air. The large rounds impact the street just in front of the trucks and create sparks where they hit. The thick whine of the bullets ricochets down the street. They impact a building farther down the road with substantial thumps. If my voice, the realization that they were surrounded, or the sight of the Stryker didn’t create a stir, the sound of the heavy gun firing and hitting so close sure spurs greater action. The weapons the men were holding now fall from loosened grips with a multitude of clatters.

Various forms of, “Fuck this! I’m outta here,” sound out as the group takes to their feet in a hurry. I’ve never seen such a big man run so fast in all my life. I’m pretty sure land-speed records are reached as they all take off down the street with him passing the lot of them in the process. They are soon lost from my view but I can hear their footsteps pounding on the pavement for a short while. I turn to look at the bridge expecting to see them cross but it remains empty. I’m guessing they ran farther to the north, a guess that is verified by Greg as well as Henderson. There still remain the people inside the store and the need to ascertain their inclination.

“Okay, those of you inside, it’s your turn,” I shout.

“Who are you?” A male voice asks.

“I’m Captain Jack Walker. I want you to lay down your weapons and come out single file showing your hands,” I respond.

“How do we know you aren’t like the others and just trying to lure us out?” The voice says.

“I guess my word is all I have. That and a 50 cal Stryker parked up the road,” I state.

“Works for me. We’re coming out.”

I watch as three men and two women emerge from inside with their hands raised. I don’t notice any weapons immediately visible. They spread in a line near the front.

“Is that everyone?” I ask.

“This is it,” one of the men answers.

“Okay. If we go in and find anyone, and we will go in, they’ll be treated as hostile. That means…” I say, leaving the statement hanging.

The small group in front of us looks at each other. I see the man doing the talking emit a sigh and his shoulders sag slightly. “Fred, Jim, come on out,” he says, looking over his shoulder. Two additional men exit the store.

“That’s it,” I say.

“Yeah, that’s everyone,” the man replies.

“You’re sure this time.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. This is all of us.”

“Greg, Henderson, and Denton, keep us covered. We’re moving to the group. Keep an eye out for the ones who fled,” I say over the radio. Greg and the others respond positively.

We leave our cover and approach the group cautiously. Gonzalez and McCafferty frisk each of the people as Robert, Bri, and I cover them. No additional weapons are found with the exception of a few knives and survival tools.