I need your help.”
“What makes you say it wasn’t your friend? What evidence do you have of that?”
“Because I believe him, sir. He told me what happened here. He told me why he was here, but swears he didn’t fire a single shot. I know and trust the man, sir. I’ve fought beside him more than once.”
Owens stepped away, peering across the valley. “I have to admit, the presence of the drone bothered me. Yes, we are using the little airborne bastards for everything these days, but I still thought it was odd to have one covering a deployment like this. Now, you’re showing me evidence that it was more than a drone watching the proceedings. Almost like someone was expecting something to happen here that night. I understand the concept of a false flag, Sergeant. What do you want from me?”
“Not much, General. I need transportation and clearance for two men to visit Memphis. We believe the key to this entire mystery can be found there.”
Owens replied, “Why don’t I just send in professional investigators? I could order military experts to reopen the case.”
“Sir, I think that would be a mistake. It is my opinion that whoever ordered this operation was very high in the chain of command. If you make an official fuss, the culprit may disappear down a rabbit hole and take any evidence with him. That’s why I wanted to bring you up here alone – there might be some very powerful people behind this.”
Owens nodded, conceding Nick’s point. “And why do you trust me, Sergeant?”
It was Nick’s turn to gaze off into the distance. “No one condones the meaningless death of Americans, especially soldiers under his command. That’s why I trusted you. I knew you had to be completely in the dark about this.”
The general pondered Nick’s statement for a moment and then said, “So you want transportation and a pass to nose around the Memphis region. Anything else?”
“Yes, sir. I need you and the major to keep this under your hat for a few days. And, sir, I want your agreement to a ceasefire until I’ve finished in Memphis and report my findings back to you.”
Owens considered Nick’s words. “Deal.”
Texas – New Mexico border
July 27
The diesel pumps had suffered fire damage when the main structure had burned. Fred’s tractor and trailer had added to the inferno, only rust and a skeleton of sheet metal remaining.
He had to scrape away almost two feet of smelly debris before he found the pump’s pipeline leading to the underground tank. The hose had melted away, charred bits of rubber and plastic the only evidence that fuel had once passed through the machine.
He located the valve next, a flow-control unit that would deliver more fuel as the handle was squeezed. Diesel wasn’t nearly as flammable as gasoline, so he wasn’t worried about a spark or fire. Using a screwdriver, he began prying on the heat-weakened opening.
Bishop smiled when the stubborn piece of equipment finally succumbed to his efforts. He could smell diesel fuel. Now to get it out.
The solution was actually quite simple. The locals had a garden hose, currently repurposed as a clothesline. With Cole’s assistance, Bishop inserted the smaller yard-watering tube into the open valve and then created a seal with significant amounts of duct tape. Consolidating the last few inches of rainwater provided a barrel. Bishop inhaled, exhaled, and then sucked hard on the hose.
The first attempt produced nothing but fumes and a few deep coughs. He repeated the process and was rewarded with a mouthful of foul-tasting liquid. Quickly shoving the end of the hose into the barrel, both men stood grinning as they watched the pinkish fuel continue to fill the barrel.
And it continued to flow.
For a while, Bishop thought they were going to need additional containers. When the 50-gallon drum was half-full, Cole scrambled to find anything that would hold fuel. They didn’t want to waste a single drop of the precious
“What makes you say it wasn’t your friend? What evidence do you have of that?”
“Because I believe him, sir. He told me what happened here. He told me why he was here, but swears he didn’t fire a single shot. I know and trust the man, sir. I’ve fought beside him more than once.”
Owens stepped away, peering across the valley. “I have to admit, the presence of the drone bothered me. Yes, we are using the little airborne bastards for everything these days, but I still thought it was odd to have one covering a deployment like this. Now, you’re showing me evidence that it was more than a drone watching the proceedings. Almost like someone was expecting something to happen here that night. I understand the concept of a false flag, Sergeant. What do you want from me?”
“Not much, General. I need transportation and clearance for two men to visit Memphis. We believe the key to this entire mystery can be found there.”
Owens replied, “Why don’t I just send in professional investigators? I could order military experts to reopen the case.”
“Sir, I think that would be a mistake. It is my opinion that whoever ordered this operation was very high in the chain of command. If you make an official fuss, the culprit may disappear down a rabbit hole and take any evidence with him. That’s why I wanted to bring you up here alone – there might be some very powerful people behind this.”
Owens nodded, conceding Nick’s point. “And why do you trust me, Sergeant?”
It was Nick’s turn to gaze off into the distance. “No one condones the meaningless death of Americans, especially soldiers under his command. That’s why I trusted you. I knew you had to be completely in the dark about this.”
The general pondered Nick’s statement for a moment and then said, “So you want transportation and a pass to nose around the Memphis region. Anything else?”
“Yes, sir. I need you and the major to keep this under your hat for a few days. And, sir, I want your agreement to a ceasefire until I’ve finished in Memphis and report my findings back to you.”
Owens considered Nick’s words. “Deal.”
Texas – New Mexico border
July 27
The diesel pumps had suffered fire damage when the main structure had burned. Fred’s tractor and trailer had added to the inferno, only rust and a skeleton of sheet metal remaining.
He had to scrape away almost two feet of smelly debris before he found the pump’s pipeline leading to the underground tank. The hose had melted away, charred bits of rubber and plastic the only evidence that fuel had once passed through the machine.
He located the valve next, a flow-control unit that would deliver more fuel as the handle was squeezed. Diesel wasn’t nearly as flammable as gasoline, so he wasn’t worried about a spark or fire. Using a screwdriver, he began prying on the heat-weakened opening.
Bishop smiled when the stubborn piece of equipment finally succumbed to his efforts. He could smell diesel fuel. Now to get it out.
The solution was actually quite simple. The locals had a garden hose, currently repurposed as a clothesline. With Cole’s assistance, Bishop inserted the smaller yard-watering tube into the open valve and then created a seal with significant amounts of duct tape. Consolidating the last few inches of rainwater provided a barrel. Bishop inhaled, exhaled, and then sucked hard on the hose.
The first attempt produced nothing but fumes and a few deep coughs. He repeated the process and was rewarded with a mouthful of foul-tasting liquid. Quickly shoving the end of the hose into the barrel, both men stood grinning as they watched the pinkish fuel continue to fill the barrel.
And it continued to flow.
For a while, Bishop thought they were going to need additional containers. When the 50-gallon drum was half-full, Cole scrambled to find anything that would hold fuel. They didn’t want to waste a single drop of the precious
Similar Books
