Gordon Ryan - State of Rebellion

“FBI! Drop it!” she shouted, her voice now strong and decisive. “I said, drop it!”

In what seemed like slow motion, he continued to shift his aim, attempting to release the safety and prepare his rifle for action, but her shot, as unerring as on her previous encounter in the Wells Fargo Bank, entered Dahlgren’s brain. Their shots were nearly simultaneous, but Nicole’s was the most telling, rendering Woodland’s city manager dead before he hit the ground. His shot, not as controlled, entered Nicole’s chest, and the impact of his.243-caliber deer rifle slammed her backward toward the cabin door. Stunned by the impact of the bullet and fearful of losing consciousness before she could release Dan, Nicole crawled toward his chair.

“In my right jacket pocket, Nicole. I’ve got a knife.”

Nicole reached into his pocket, extracted the knife, and succeeded in cutting the plastic tie that held Dan’s hands and the rope binding his legs to the chair. With his hands and legs free, Dan grabbed Nicole and laid her down on the floor, opening her jacket. He examined the wound, then he stood and quickly stepped to Dahlgren’s body, ferreting through his pockets for a package of plastic ties he’d seen earlier. He bound the hands of the guard Nicole had knocked unconscious. Then he ripped the guard’s shirt with his pocket knife and folded the cloth into a bandage, which he applied as a compress to Nicole’s wound.

Her breathing became labored, much as she had pretended when she had entered the cabin, and she closed her eyes, grimacing against the pain.

“I thought you were going to wait for the cavalry,” Dan mumbled, sick with fear about the severity of the wound, now visible as he opened Nicole’s shirt. She didn’t respond.

He glanced at his watch. It was nearly 4:00 a.m. Still over two hours until daylight, and likely not soon enough to ensure Nicole would get the attention she needed before it was too late. He had to assume that Dahlgren had reached Shaw and that the small party of brigade troopers were on their way back to the cabin. He figured he had fifteen minutes, twenty at best.

Dan smoothed Nicole’s hair away from her face, then as gently as he could, he picked her up and laid her on a torn mattress on top of the small wooden bunk. Returning to Dahlgren’s inert form, Dan retrieved the cellular phone. Pulling his own wallet from his hip pocket, Dan found his on-call list and dialed General Del Valle’s emergency number. The switchboard patched him through.

“Sir, this is Captain Rawlings. I’ve got a difficult situation here, sir, and I-”

“Captain, I’m airborne already with three helicopters and a platoon of troops. We’re passing over the King’s stadium in Natomas at the moment, probably about thirty minutes out from your location. I’ve already been in touch with Colonel Connor, and he filled me in. Just give me your coordinates if you can. What’s your sitrep? Colonel Connor said you have flares and a GPS. Is that right?”

“Yes, sir. We’re holed up in a small wooden cabin. One dead brigade member and one tied up and unconscious. I have a seriously wounded FBI agent with me. She’ll need immediate attention. Thirty minutes is-”

“Son, we’ll be there as quickly as we can, and I’ve got medics aboard. I’ll notify the hospital, and they’ll be standing by. Send up your flares and guide us in. Are you in any further danger from other militia troops?”

“Yes, sir. Captain Dahlgren made a phone call to tell them to return. They’ve been gone only about fifteen minutes, so they’ll be back anytime. There are three of them in the returning group.”

“Do you have any weapons?”

“Yes, sir. Two pistols, an M-16 with a couple of clips, and a hunting rifle.”

“That’s plenty. Mount a defense, Captain. We’re coming. We’ll make as much noise as we can as we get closer to scare them off, but you might have to hold the fort for a few minutes.”

“Understood, General. It’s Agent Bentley I’m worried about. She’s badly wounded and drifting in and out of consciousness.”

“Stay calm, Captain, we’re coming. The medics will stabilize her, and we’ll get her to the hospital immediately. Now turn your attention to a plan of defense. You’re well armed, in a defensive posture, and we’re close. Don’t wait until you hear us. In exactly ten minutes, launch your first flare, and every three to five minutes thereafter until you hear the choppers.”

“Yes, sir. Rawlings out.”

Dan checked Nicole again. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was slow, but steady. He removed a mattress from the second bed and placed it over her, both to warm her and to protect her from any incoming rifle fire. He left just her face free to breathe. He slid the bed away from line of sight of the window, then removed the night vision goggles from the neck of the bound trooper and turned out the Coleman lantern, taking a position between the window and the bunk bed.

The cabin grew quiet, the hissing from the Coleman lantern dissipating until the only sound in the room was the shallow breathing of Special Agent Nicole Bentley. However labored, it was a comforting sound.

Watching out the window through the night vision goggles, Dan’s thoughts returned to his final moments with Susan as she had died in his arms on the ski slope. His love for Nicole had grown over the previous months, and he found himself in an identical position. Another woman he loved was in danger, and he was virtually helpless to get the medical attention she needed.

He checked his watch. Only three minutes had passed since he had ended his call with General Del Valle. No sign of activity was evident through the window, and he sat silently, contemplating the impending loss of another woman he loved-a woman who had just saved his life.

After several motionless moments, the greenish hue of ambient light captured through the lens of the night vision goggles played tricks with his mind, but the sudden appearance of two humanoid figures was unmistakable. Dan slid the old-fashioned window upward, the cool night air quickly replacing the warmth of the cabin. He watched as a third, then, to his surprise, a fourth figure made its way slowly down the hillside. He nearly dropped his rifle when the cell phone lying on the floor at his feet began to ring. He picked it up, the flashing blue tinted window identifying Shaw as the caller.

“Well, Commander Shaw. Welcome back. I’m sorry we can’t come out to meet you, but the Guard troops are busy setting up a perimeter around the cabin.”

No answer came immediately. “I don’t think so, Rawlings. If you and the lady want to live, come out with your hands up.”

“Sorry. We’re busy at the moment, playing gin rummy with the Command Sergeant Major and the battalion commander, and haven’t time to play war games. Please tell your troopers that we haven’t room for another hand in this game, so they should stop where they are and not come any closer. You carry on without us.” Dan pressed “end” and dropped the phone to the floor, resuming his observation of the moving silhouettes on the hillside, two of whom were closing slowly toward the cabin. Dan took careful aim and fired a single warning shot, watching as the two advancing figures quickly took cover behind available trees.

A quick fusillade of shots was loosed from the hillside, most hitting the outside walls of the cabin, and one breaking the glass of the upper window. Dan fired once with a more careful aim and caught a glimpse of a green human form rolling over in the brush. Glancing at his watch, he picked up the flare gun and a cartridge Nicole had placed inside her jacket, inserting the cartridge and aiming the flare gun out the window. He closed his eyes beneath the night vision goggles and fired the flare, the arc moving quickly into the night sky and bursting into a bright, slowly descending light.