Dead Again by George Magnum Page B

we have firepower in all directions, and everyone is accounted for.”
    “Got it,” Sheriff Jones said with jumpy voice.
    “And then what, Commander?”   Trooper Willis clearly wasn’t used to being ordered around. It seemed to piss him off. “We just walk off into the sunset?”
    “If you stay here, trooper, your are all dead for sure.”
    Willis gritted his teeth, and grudgingly look away, having nothing to say to that.
    Peterson then surveyed the group of armed civilians. They were rag-tag, ranging from an all-star-American teenager with a six shot pistol, to an old, frail man with a rifle from world war II.
    “How many of these civilians are armed?” he asked.
    Sheriff Jones glanced at them, “Ten.”
    “Have them fill your ranks, Sheriff. We need the fire power.”
    “You men ready for this?” Sheriff Jones addressed the armed civilians.
    Some didn’t respond. Others nodded back hesitantly.
    “Follow my orders, hold the line, and remain side by side.”
    Peterson continued, “We’re going to move as a single unit to the hospital. Put the weaker civilians in the middle. You know the way, Sheriff, so I want you up front. We take the main streets, whatever is least populated, easiest to navigate, and widest. I don’t want us getting stuck in a narrow space. Got it?”
    Sheriff Jones nodded back.
    “DOES EVERYONE HERE GOT IT!?” Armstrong yelled fiercely.
    “YES, SIR!” came the chorus from the shadow team. A trained response which, in comparison, made law enforcement and the civilians seem like amateurs, who just mumbled and nodded their heads yes.
    Peterson was concerned. Everybody had to do their jobs if this was going to work, and he was asking a lot from armed civilians and local cops. However, he also knew that there wasn’t any other option. These people had to move somewhere, and quick. On the outside, Peterson’s expression relayed belief in those around him. Inwardly, he calculated that this scheme had, at best, a fifty percent chance of working. If it didn’t, they were all going to be devoured alive. He was sacrificing everything—himself, his team, and the entire damn mission to save a group of civilians.
    How the hell did I get into this?
    “All right, round up all the civilians, and hand me that megaphone. I want to talk to them.”
    Sheriff Jones and his men broke into action, rounding up the crowd, herding them from all over the sprawling parking lot, and bringing them close to Peterson.
    As the crowd thickened around him, Peterson stood up on a crate, raised the megaphone, and faced them. He saw the fear on their faces, the nervousness, but also some hope.
    “We’re going to get you out of here,” Peterson announced. “We are all going to safety, to the hospital. It’s only a mile from here. As we leave, my men will surround you, and you will be safe within our confines. We must move together as one. No one leave our perimeter, for any reason.
    “Once we reach the hospital, we will secure it, and then you will be safe, and have shelter, food, and medicine. It will not be easy getting there, but we’re all in this together. Be strong. Follow instructions carefully. I repeat: do not stray from our perimeter. Our firepower will surround you, but stay close, hold together as a pack. And no matter what happens, keep moving, as fast as you can. We can only move as fast as the weakest link here. If you see someone too sick, or too slow, carry them. I want us moving in at least a trot.
    “These gates are about to bust open. As soon as I give the signal, and not before, I want you to hurry through them in a fast and organized manner. Get ready.”
    Peterson stepped down, and handed off the megaphone.
    *
    Peterson and his team took positions a safe distance on either side of the gate.
    “Nice job, Commander,” Angelo whispered, as he took his position by Peterson’s side.
    Sharon stood across from him, determination in her eyes. She was the consummate professional, and just