Nathan Jones - First Winter

Grimes nodded and prepared to speak, but Matt hastily continued. “Chauncey and Lucas have prepared a report for you, everything we have on what’s been going on in the area since Major Rogers sent the refugees our way without consulting us. They’ve used radio communications, reports from our defenders and townspeople, and eyewitness testimony from a few other residents in the area that Aspen Hill aided when they faced the threat of banditry. They’ve also accumulated a modest amount of video, photographic, and audio evidence.”

That took the colonel aback. “You have that sort of evidence these days?”

“Our town has enough solar panels to run a few essential electronics. Including smart phones, which is enough for most things. And I’m willing to attest that this evidence, as well as the other information provided by these two gentlemen, is true to the best of our knowledge, and comes from reliable sources.”

Grimes paused for just a moment, then nodded reluctantly. “I’m eager to finally hear Aspen Hill’s side of things,” he said to the two men. Then he turned an expectant gaze on Deb, waiting to hear what she was doing there. The brown-haired woman cringed slightly at his attention, then staunchly straightened to her full medium height. She was still a bit pale after yesterday’s ordeal, but looking well rested at least.

Matt’s tone turned grim as he finished the introduction. “And Deb is the last surviving member of the patrol that was ambushed yesterday afternoon. She’s agreed to give you a full account of the attack. We also have photos of the crime scene and the victims. We already performed funeral services and buried our people, as you can understand.”

The senior officer nodded to her as well, much more gravely. “My condolences, ma’am,” he said. “I regret it took the deaths of your companions to finally bring this matter to my attention.”

Bring the matter to his attention. As if Aspen Hill hadn’t sent a delegation directly to the man asking for help, and Chauncey hadn’t been talking himself hoarse over the radio trying to get someone, anyone, on Grimes’s end to do or even say anything. The colonel had apparently already learned the lesson Catherine had taught Matt about never admitting guilt by saying sorry.

Before Matt could think of a response the colonel curtly motioned to him. “Before we begin I’d like to have a word in private, Mayor.”

“Of course,” Matt said. He motioned to a bench outside a nearby house, just a roughly smoothed log sitting on two stumps, and led the way over to offer a seat, then sat down himself ready to hear the man out.

Grimes dove right into it. “I’ll be frank, Mayor. While you do have my sympathy for the loss of your people, the reason I’m here is because of your openly, and might I add loudly, stated intent to go after the men who killed them.”

So you don’t mind when we die, but you come running when the people attacking us might come to harm , Matt thought bitterly. He knew that wasn’t entirely fair, since what the colonel was probably worried about was the eruption of large scale violence in the area. Still Aspen Hill had plenty of reason to be justifiably angry and Matt was less and less inclined to excuse the man.

While he was silently fuming Grimes had continued. “I think you can understand that, angry as your people might be, I need you to hold off on taking action against the camp harboring these men. Let the military handle it.”

Matt took a breath to steel himself. Angry as he was, he didn’t look forward to what was coming next. He decided to ease into it. “With all due respect, Colonel, we haven’t received any responses to our requests for aid, instruction, or arbitration. In the meantime those bandits butchered four people whose duty was to protect this town. When we went to their camp to demand the others give up the criminals who committed that atrocity they fired on us. Fired on me , hitting me in the chest.” He pointed to the exact spot where the vest material had punctured his skin, although of course it couldn’t be seen.

“I’m sorry to hear that. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re not qualified to handle this situation.”

And there it was. “Apparently we are, since we hit the camp at dawn. The prisoners are waiting under guard south of town.”

From the direction this conversation had been going he expected Grimes to explode in righteous anger at that. But the man just slumped slightly in his seat, looking exhausted. “You took them prisoner, then?”

“We tried to capture them all alive, to hand over to you for judgment or to deal with ourselves if you refused to,” Matt replied, trying not to sound defensive. “We surrounded their camp and presented a display of force, then demanded they surrender and submit to arrest. They decided to attack us, and we were forced to defend ourselves. It didn’t go well for them. Those who finally did surrender are being held in custody, aside from the wounded being treated in our clinic by our doctors.”

The colonel rubbed the bridge of his nose, staring at the ground as he spoke. “You can’t take the law into your own hands, Mayor Larson. Aspen Hill isn’t an isolated town fighting against the world, it’s part of a community. Dealing with criminals is our job, and trying to do it yourself only creates problems.”

Only creates-

Matt sucked in a sharp breath, tried to control his anger, and only partially succeeded. “We contacted you yesterday after our people were killed,” he said, doing his best to keep his tone level. “We’ve been contacting you for the last nine days since Rogers sent 1,000 of his camp’s criminals and malcontents our way and created this problem in the first place. We heard nothing but silence and you sent away the people we sent to represent our side of the situation. So we did what we had to.”

The man’s face was reddening with his own anger. “You didn’t give us time to—”

“No,” Matt cut in sharply, surging to his feet. “You can’t claim a vital job, not do it, then get mad at us for having no choice but to do it ourselves. It took the deaths of over 70 people to get you to finally step in and look at a problem someone under your command created. You dropped the ball in the worst way possible, and now you’re telling us to trust you to handle things?”

Grimes sat through his rant, expression stony. When Matt finally finished the colonel abruptly stood as well. “Give me a day,” he growled. “I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Suddenly more frustrated than angry, Matt sank back down into his seat, staring up at the man. “That would be great, but right now what this town needs is for you to do something about the displaced refugees scattered for miles in every direction, half of whom have turned to banditry. Take them back into a refugee camp, send them aid and leave them where they are but read them the Riot Act, I don’t care. Just as long as they stop attacking my town.”

“Because if they do you’ll attack them back?”

It was a petty jibe, but under the circumstances Matt was willing to let it slide. “We’ll defend ourselves. We have the right to do that, don’t we?”

“If that’s what you’re doing.” Grimes turned back to where the others waited. “Let’s hear the details from your people, as well as any eyewitnesses you have. And then I suppose we’ll have to talk to your prisoners and get their side of things.”

“If they’re inclined to tell the truth about what happened,” Matt said, following the man.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, son,” the colonel snapped. He raised his voice to address the people ahead. “Mr. Watson, Mr. Halsson, Ms. Rutledge. If I could borrow you for a day, two at most, I’d like to get your testimony as we drive, as well as make use of your familiarity with this area. I’ll probably also need to go over most of this in a more formal setting back in my camp so it can be officially recorded.”