Conflicted Home (The Survivalist Book 9) A American (fun to read .TXT) 📖

Mike picked through the pile of pants draped over his arm and pulled two pair out and handed them to me. “Here, these’ll fit you.”

I took the MultiCam pants and said, “Thanks. Where the hell did you find these?”

Mike bounced his eyebrows and replied, “While you were sleeping, me and Ted were out getting our scrounge on. The old man said we’re getting ready to pull out. But we’re going to have to take another route home. All this rain has caused the Santa Fe river to overflow onto I-75. We’re going to have to go around it.”

Sitting up and stretching as best I could in the cab, I replied, “Great. Let’s just drag this shit out for days.”

“Aw come on, Morg. It won’t be that bad. Little sightseeing.”

He stepped down and I pushed the door open. “I’ve seen those sights before and don’t really care to see them again. I’m going to go get a cup of coffee before we leave.”

“Better hurry. His Royal Pain in the Ass is already starting to bitch.”

“Let him,” I replied. Mike headed for the Stryker to hide his loot and I had a second thought about the coffee. Reaching into my pack, I took out my stainless water bottle. There was still water in it and I poured it into one of the Platypus water bags and took the bottle inside with me.

The coffee pot was a large affair, as would be expected in such a place. I put the bottle under it and opened the tap. As the brown liquid flowed in, I held a can of sugar and a can of powdered creamer in either hand, shaking their contents into the bottle as well. When the bottle was full, I wrapped my bandanna around it and shook it to mix well.

Removing a Styrofoam cup from its plastic sleeve, I made a cup for the road and headed back to the truck. Everyone was milling about around the trucks as rain gently but steadily fell from the sky. I found the old man and asked, “So which route are we going to take home?”

He was shining a red flashlight at a map inside a plastic case. “I figured we’d take nineteen. Be the easiest route.”

“That’s going to take us through a lot of populated areas.”

He tossed the map into the front seat of the Hummer and replied, “They’re not as populated as they once were.”

I grunted. “I guess not.” I looked up into the spitting sky and said, “Maybe the rain will keep the Indians at bay. I’ll be in the truck,” as rain drops pelted me.

Sarge cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted, “Let’s saddle up!”

As we were moving towards our vehicles, a Hummer came racing up and skidded to a stop. Several men climbed out and looked us over. When they didn’t say anything, Sarge asked, “Can I help you boys?”

“We heard you might be the folks that stirred a little shit up over in Crystal River.”

Sarge nodded. “Maybe just a little.”

The man looked back at those with him and replied, “We’re with the 14th Brigade Engineers. We were there when the Russians showed up.”

Sarge nodded, “Gong Mu Ro.”

The man nodded and with a smile and replied, “Rugged. It’s not often someone knows our motto.”

Sarge pointed at Mike and Ted and said, “Me and these boys did some work with your people in Afghanistan back in ’11.”

“They were the guys doing all the route clearance,” Mike offered.

The engineer held his hand out, “We just wanted to thank you guys. Name’s Arnold”

Sarge shook the man’s hand and replied, “I don’t know why. We could see you guys there. But there wasn’t anything we could do for you with the number of Ruskies. We just had to leave you fellers.”

Another one of the engineers stepped up and asked, “What the hell did you guys do to that boat?”

Sarge jabbed a thumb at Mike, “Well. This one here,” then he pointed at Dalton, “and Gulliver there swam out to the boat and planted a pile of C4 on the shafts.”

The engineers laughed. “Yeah,” one of them replied, “that really pissed the Russians off. They were caught completely off guard.”

“They expected an attack from the air,” another said. “Had all kinds of MANPADs ready to shoot down aircraft.” He laughed, “But when that boat erupted and sank. They shit themselves.”

“What the hell did they want with that spent fuel anyway?” Ted asked.

“We don’t know,” Arnold replied. “They were really tight-lipped about it around us. I have to say though, they were decent guys. We had some wounded in their raid and they treated them like their own. Their medics were top notch.”

“We watched you boys from the top of that coal elevator,” Dalton said. He pointed to one of the men and said, “I remember you. Watched you while one of their medics bandaged you up.”

The man worked his arm. “It’s still a little sore, but I still have it.”

“Once they realized what had happened, they figured you guys were up there,” Arnold said. “They sent a team up there and found your hide. Followed your tracks to the water and out. Even back to where you exfilled to your truck.”

The man with the injured shoulder said, “Yeah. The boat really torqued their ass. But whoever was on the trigger of that rifle up there, that really pissed them off.”

Dalton nodded. “I’m sure it did. I went for the most important looking ones.”

“You got him. You took out some scientist of theirs. He was the guy everyone looked to on the movement of the fuel rods. Apparently, their number one job was to protect his ass. They had no idea there would be an attack like that.”

“Yeah,” Arnold added. “They really wanted your ass.”

“Better than they have tried and failed,” Dalton said.

“How did you guys get out?” Ted asked.

Arnold took a deep breath. “Well, once the boat was gone, there was nothing else for them to do. Then they