Maddie by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 3
Just before daybreak Conk saw that like him, Jon was awake and staring up at the sky. He said; “Now that I’ve had some time to think about it, the whole thing was caused by Mossad’s having had Menpeko as their plan number two.”
“I don’t get that at all. I mean, part of their intelligence must have studied his traits and likely responses beforehand.”
“In football, it’s not unusual on a big play for someone to fall down and fake an injury; just to later get up and make the play. So, try this. Mossad, Rabinowitz and Goldsack are playing injured party. They’re going to be bombed and it’s one of eight people who will be doing it. Like you said, if that was the case, they would have been better off just coming in and taking care of business themselves. On top of that they refused to share their data with us. Yes, that might have been a techie thing, but it’s just as likely that they had no data.”
“Okay, I’ll play along.”
“So, Mossad plays the nice guy and asks for US co-operation, which they don’t need because they’re not going to do anything. So, only two things can happen. Menpeko can kick it up to Jawaad or handle it himself. If he kicks it up to Jawaad; Jawaad can either give permission or forbid the murders.
Jawaad’s a politician. He won’t risk his career by getting into
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something like this; so he has to say no or kick it back to Manpeko. He’s an American born Arab Muslim who hasn’t been overly friendly to Israel. So under plan one he says no. Mossad acts like good boys as there are no mad bombers in the US
anyway. But, they leak the information to the press. Israel gets bombed, giving them the ‘moral’ authority to lash out at both the West and the East. Under plan two where the matter is kicked back to Manpeko; Manpeko does exactly what they expected him to; they kill eight innocent victims; Manpeko leaks it and Israel gets bombed; and has the ‘moral’ authority .............. “
“Kind of spy novel worthy; except one thing. Who bombs Israel in case one and case two?”
“Easy. You guys need some footballers in intelligence. Lehi and Mossad are under the direction of Goldsack in either case.
What do they have to gain? They’re the victims everyone sympathizes with and Israel becomes the whole world. ........
The greatest land grab of all time.”
Maddie’s eyes stared intently. Undetected, she opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.
“That does ignore one very large point. If Israel wanted to do that they could make it simpler. They could just bomb themselves and use that as an excuse to lash out at the world.”
“No. No. No. That would give them no right to bomb the East or get others to do it for them in the confusion as it would be
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presumed that the Arabs did it. It’s a difficult game to play both ends against the middle; but if you can pull it off you win bigtime.”
“So what are the Lehis and Mossad doing now?”
“They’re probably in some underground bunker waiting for the air to clear. After that, it’ll probably be some kind of military round up operation. ............. Everybody ready for breakfast? We got some ground to cover today. Give the man some of the beans. They’re easier on the stomach.” He smirked when he looked at Jon.
Conk and Maddie dug into their cold cans, while Jon held back.
Conk said; “Ah, don’t worry about it. If you throw it all up there’s more.”
Jon said; “Yeah, I know that. I’ve been taking some courses on that subject. I was just thinking about how much more appetizing these beans would be heated.”
“Well, yeah. I was wondering about how much better the food would be at La Grenouille myself; but necessities made me get over it.”
“No. No. You don’t get it. Can’s fine; but much better when heated. Cold beans. Come on. With all the smoke coming from the ground none of the horsemen are going to take special notice of the smoke from a little fire.”
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“ ........ All right. If they attack at least we’ve got a bunker here.”
Jon stood and pulled some dead brush down into the hole and put his Bic to the pile. The flames produced a black smoke which rose like a reluctant, European honey bee before it dispersed in the stagnant air above their hole. The three took turns using the can opener to heat their breakfast. They ate and shared the water.
The flames quickly subsided and Jon got on his feet. He put his head over the edge and reported; “None of the four horsemen out there.”
Conk said; “It strikes me as kind of strange how we keep referring to these marauders as ‘The Four Horsemen.’ It kind of gives the bums a stature they don’t deserve. I mean a little football player like me can take out two of them without much trouble.”
“Just circumstances. Don’t know their names. There are four of them. And they ride horses. Actually, never thought of the Biblical story. Always was more of a scientist.”
Conk snorted out a short laugh. He said; “Ball players are as superstitious as you can get. How else can you explain hot streaks and slumps. The approach doesn’t really matter. We both know to stay away from the bad guys.”
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“It’s just so weird how that smoke comes out of the ground.
Something has to be burning down there. Probably shale. But, we’ll never know. If you get caught in one of them it’s like inhaling your car’s exhaust fumes.”
“Somebody’s launched missile must have hit an underground nuclear storage facility. Bombs from above meet bombs from below. And pop goes the weasel.”
After breakfast and conversation Conk thought it was time to end the chit chat and get moving. He said; “Jon, we’re heading out. Like to have you with us. But, if you feel like dying here it’s your business.” He got up and lifted Maddie from their overnight confines.
Jon sighed. He said; “Don’t really feel up to it right now.
But that’s the way I felt every day going to work. You going to give me one of you extra guns? One easy to use. I never before handled one.”
“Yeah. I think I got somethin’ for ya. Easy to use. Little tough on the trigger pull but worth it. One of the horsemen had a Browning 9, which I picked up. Been illegally modified. 13
mag. Pull the trigger once and you got one round. Keep the trigger down and you got a spray. Here.”
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Jon took it, and while he looked at it all over, he said;
“Like the spray part.”
“Thought you might. It’s got it uses, but it gets overused.
Most of the spray does exactly that. Goes all over the place and don’t hit nothin’.”
“So what’s the big deal about automatic or semi-automatic?”
“Politics mostly. See, the spray is good if your target is right next to ya. But, it’s a waste if they’re at a distance.”
Jon made a Maddie type of response.
Conk felt the need to elaborate. He said; “It’s the rookies who get carried away with the automatic aspect. Figure they’ll just hold their finger down on the trigger and one of the rounds will hit their target. WRONG.”
“ ........... “
“Take my word on this one Jon. Hold it with two hands and fire one at a time. Your enemy might know that after 13 shots you have to re-load and charge.”
“Okay; you convinced me.”
The trio walked through the dead brush and were soon back to the overgrown road. Conk said; “Walk on the side of it. No bombs planted there.”
Conversation was virtually no-existent. The guys knew what they were doing and Maddie continued to reserve commentary.
Conk’s leg seemed to get a bit more problematic after each
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time he rested it. But like any decent football player he made no complaints as injuries are a part of the game. He figured that he’d soon be somewhere where medical attention might be available. He also suspected that prior to that, he’d be seeing the horsemen again.
Jon’s state of mind was more complicated. He too expected to be seeing the horsemen, but he had already accepted the fact that he was going to die; so they weren’t as ominous as they would be to most. He had his doubts about this survivalist nirvana LAWLESS outfit; but it seemed to him that whether or not they existed didn’t make much difference to him. Maddie played things close to the vest.
They trekked quietly. With no vegetation above knee level they kept their eyes and ears open, as they felt as if they were exposed to any on comer. During their lives they had become accustomed to being under constant surveillance. Miniscule cameras and computer spyware was standard. But, rather than “Big Brother” having access to the sites one had visited and their purchasing proclivities, now their existence was accessible to armed marauders.
Jon’s five foot nine inch, thin frame tumbled over a particularly sturdy dried out bush and he fell face forward. He caught himself on his hands and came away with nothing but minor scrapes. He laughed at his “mistake” and righted himself.
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Conk said the obligatory; “Are you all right?”
“From the fall or mentally?”
Conk snickered at the response he didn’t expect and said;
“Both.”
“From the fall okay. Mentally trying.”
Maddie spit out either a stifled giggle or the undigested portion of her morning bean breakfast.
Jon looked at her as she looked away. He said; “Doesn’t she ever speak?”
“Don’t know. But, I’m finding it preferable to the common harangues.”
The sound of slow moving cloven hooves wafted over in the still air. Conk pushed Maddie behind him and the three crouched toward the sound. Two had weapons ready for business.
“No need for that,” called out one of the burro riders.
“Enough death. You can smell it.”
Seeing no weapons held by any of the three; Conk pointed his gun at the ground and Jon did the same.
Conk, Jon and Maddie stood as the other trio pulled up ten feet away from them. They appeared to be Spanish and wore wide rimmed, multi-colored sombreros. Conk said; “Passin’ through?”
The darkest one slightly in front said; “You can say that.
Do you know what happened?”
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Before Jon could speak, Conk said; “Bombs been goin’ off.
Didn’t you notice?”
“Seen one or two. Right, boys?”
Maddie’s wordiness was catchy.
Dark Sombrero said; “We was wonderin’ if you needed any help.”
“Nope, thanks. You?”
“Nah, we’re all right.
“Okay. Don’t let us keep you from goin’ about your business.”
“Friendly people, huh?”
“Friendly enough. See ya around, pal.”
The Sombrero gang moved past the trio. At a distance of ten feet Dark Sombrero nodded to his compadres and they all retrieved rifles from their side bags.
Conk wasted no time and fired himself, hitting Dark Sombrero who fell from his burro. The other two hightailed it out of there taking Dark Sombrero’s burro and gear. They left the motionless body.
Conk said; “Stay here and get down.” He slowly limped over to the body and kicked it. Dark Sombrero’s eyes opened.
Conk said; “I’m going to do you a favor. I’m going to end your misery and waste a bullet.” He fired into the prostrate man’s head. It went through the forehead making a small hole and
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the blood flowed from the back and soon made a red puddle around the dead man’s head. Conk waved “Come on” to his troops and they obeyed.
When they caught up, Jon questioned Conk’s action saying;
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Conk replied; “What was I supposed to do? Call 9-1-1?”
Maddie shrugged and evinced the slightest degree of a smile.
Conk said; “This guy wanted to kill us. The first bullet was in his chest. There ain’t no doctors available and I really did do him a favor. Besides, it could be a game. They get us feelin’ sorry for a bum, and then come back and plug us. The hell with that.”
Jon said; “ .......... “
Maddie said; “ ......... “
They walked on.
After a few hours they saw something great. In the distance was the Hayfield Mountains and Conk knew that its base would be edged with the remnants of the Joshua Trees. The un-leaved branches with their tendency to cluster could provide more cover than the dead Saguaros. Not a great deal, but better than what was behind. In the circumstances any small favor was appreciated.
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The trio unconsciously picked up some steam, anxious to get there.
Jon said; “I’ve been thinking about what you said before breakfast. There’s one major problem with it though. Okay, Israel becomes the whole world. But, it’s a world which has been destroyed. It’s kind of like winning the booby prize.”
“Hmnnnn. Actually I did consider that. But if there was only one wrecked car around, wouldn’t you want to have it?”
“No. I’m not a mechanic and it would be useless to me.”
“But what if the car could fix itself? Given time, Mother Earth always regenerates. As long as no do goody idiot tries to manage things, she always has handled it.”
“Past tense. She’s never seen anything like this before.”
“Maybe not, but we really don’t know for sure. Underground, the archeologists keep finding buried remnants of prior civilizations. Chances are that they destroyed their world. But, that didn’t stop others from inheriting it and establishing a new one on its grave.”
“So, if it happened before it will happen again. I don’t think that there are any guaranties. The horse as the primary means of transportation isn’t about to replace planes, train and automobiles.”
“I can’t believe that you said that in seriousness. Look around you. The horse would now be an improvement.”
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Jon said; “ ...... “
Maddie said; “ ....... “
Conk sighed in recognition that his theory had been less than persuasive. He said; “Look at it from the Lehi-Mossad point of view. They’re constantly under siege. This is not only true of the country they inhabit; it is true of the people they are incorrectly identified with. So, successfully using both aspects to their advantage, what have they got to lose? A homeland which is constantly bombed? A few people who are mistakenly seen as their own killed? Forget that. What they gain is the annihilation of their enemies and a world which will probably regenerate over time. I can’t imagine a bigger prize. There aren’t that many of them and they got the whole shootin’ match.”
“Well what about this LAWLESS survivalist group? And other survivalist groups we don’t know about? They’re Lehi-Mossad enemies, aren’t they?”
“Maybe; maybe not. We haven’t seen them. They might not even be there for all we know. And if they are there they could be a sham.”
Maddie shot Conk a look capable of perplexing Hawking.”
Aware of the look and in anticipation of its possible meaning, Conk said; “We have to go there. There’s no other good option.”
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A bit later Conk said; “Do you have any idea what might have killed the vegetation? They weren’t hit by a bomb.
Neutron?”
“I’d rather not think about it. It was probably the same air we’re breathing right now. Neutron bombs do more physical damage than is popularly thought. The military stopped making them ages ago. It was likely VX or sarin, probably VX as it’s ten times more effective. The gas kills quickly and disappears in six hours. But, it does get stuck on many things including plants and if you breathe the air around it or touch it, you’re dead; though not quickly from a residual dosage. We may be walking corpses.”
“Sorry I asked.” In an attempt to “cheer” things up a bit, he added; “We all are. It’s just a matter of when.”
“And how has its place too. Some deaths are much less painful than others and this one’s pretty bad. VX has been quietly used in the Middle East for decades. The US largely quit using it when soldiers found out about the residual effects and didn’t want to come anywhere near it. The problem was that Special Ops had a ten year contract with Dow and the stuff became stockpiled. As often happens it started to ‘disappear’
and probably got in the hands of some crazies.”
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Three thankfully uneventful days later the slope of the ground turned up and they had the company of many Joshua Trees.
It made the going slower and put additional stress on Conk’s injured leg. Near the pass they heard the approach of other company and braced themselves. The four horsemen had spotted the trio and like soldiers with paratroop training hit the ground firing first and talking much later. Fortunately, they were too far away to hit their targets.
Conk directed everyone to a cluster of Joshua Trees and everyone crouched behind them.
Jon said; “Smell that fabulous VX additive.”
“I don’t smell anything.”
“You’re not supposed to. That’s kind of the idea.”
Conk retrieved his gun and Jon mimicked him. Conk said;
“Don’t shoot ‘til they get close. There’s a limit to our ammo.
‘Sides maybe they’ll think we’re out and get more stupid than usual.”
Shots sprayed all around them. The results splashed into the dead ground around them as if it was the edge-of-the-storm rain profanely ravaging the river in muzzled increments. The horsemen dismounted, slouched, and approached slowly, creeping with the bent knees position some learn in Sunday School. The multi-colored horses stayed in place; out of range to all but those with a weapon of bazooka class or above. The riders’ down-
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to-the-ankle black coats resembled the style of the “Goth” fad which had substantially died when Brandon Lee did. But, here it was again in a multiple of four, topped with black bogus cowboy hats popular in gender alternative sections of large cities.
As the bullet spray ineffectually proceeded; Conk, Jon and Maddie got the feeling that they were in a very unchallenging video game. It was reminiscent of one of the ones designed for the nerds who get a large charge out of beating an algorithmically constrained and thereby doomed opponent.
Conk’s irrational amusement resulted in a “refined” plan.
He said; “These guys are so stupid, we’ll play the game at the retard level. Let’s ‘play dead’. They’ll use up all their ammo during their slow approach. When they get near we’ll just blow their heads off.”
Jon said; “That easy, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Four firing guns versus a non-firing two and the two will prevail?”
“Exactimundo, Mr. CIA Intelligence. Ours will be loaded.”
The four horsemen kept firing as they approached, each stopping to reload at various intervals. They seemed enthused and encouraged by the lack of return fire. When the stupidly confident gang of four had gotten ten feet away, Conk fanned his semi and deposited a bullet in each stupid head. He chuckled
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when he stood, proud of his marksmanship. He walked to each still body and fired another round into each chest. The bodies jerked as if they were still alive. But, it was just the impact that made them move one last time.
Jon tentatively stood up and said; “Damn.”
Maddie got to her feet and without any noticeable facial expression walked into the land of the nearby dead. Oblivious to the blood and gore, she checked their necks. Each had a triangular, silver medallion. Maddie read the names stamped into them; showing an increasing hint of a smile as she progressed in carcass count. Nopesach Pleinsaurian; Warren Pleinsaurian; Huntly Pleinsaurian; and Victor Pleinsaurian. She thought; “If this is the victor I don’t want to see the one who lost.”
Conk said; “Hey, Maddie. Get out of there. They’re probably carrying some kind of disease.”
Maddie smirked, rejoined the other two, and the journey resumed.
Jon was impressed with both the strategic planning and the executive action displays. He thought that it wouldn’t hurt to offer Gridiron courses at the Master’s level; or at least make it part of the in-house training catalogue.
Conk kept his thoughts to himself. He was never 100%
certain of his plan, but knew that it didn’t hurt to instill
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confidence, even if false. He knew that he had gotten lucky this time.
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