The Quest: Countdown to Armageddon: Book 6 Page 12

“Most of my assignments are to clean up a town where the local law enforcement has abandoned the town or gone bad. Or, sometimes they’re still there and trying to do their job. But the bad guys outnumber them and they need help.

  “So somebody calls the Rangers and they send you in, wearing a Superman cape and riding a big white horse?”

  “A black and white horse.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

  Tom brought over the coffee pot and a couple of cups.

  “I wish I had an extra cup for you, but you can use mine. It’s relatively clean.”

  “Give him mine, Tom. I’m not thirsty anyway.”

  Randy raised an eyebrow when Tom handed him a pink Hello Kitty cup. But he didn’t say anything other than “thank you.”

  Tom sat down and joined in the conversation.

  “Randy, what happens if you ride into Castroville and find out you’re way outnumbered?”

  “Then I’ll call into Austin and ask for reinforcements. There are six other Rangers within a hundred miles or so. They’re my backup.”

  “A hundred miles is several days’ ride. What do you do in the meantime?”

  “I generally leave my calling card.”

  “Huh?”

  “After I scout out the town and get a good feel for it, I’ll ride back out and plan my first move. What I typically do is identify one of the town’s kingpins that I can take from right under their noses.

  “Then I’ll find a temporary holding cell. Maybe an abandoned mine or business out in the middle of nowhere. Say, maybe three or four miles south of the town.

  “I’ll go back into town and arrest the kingpin, but I’ll wait until he’s not surrounded by his henchmen. Like, for example, when he’s at home with his woman. Then I’ll take him and ride north, and tell the woman to spread the word that I’ll be coming back for the rest of them.

  “She’ll spread the word, and tell the henchmen I rode north. And they’ll send out some thugs to look for me and get their boss back. But they won’t find us because I’m very good at doubling back. I’ll actually be south of town, and will deposit the kingpin there, in my temporary holding cell. He’ll be wearing leg irons and chains and have a gag over his mouth.

  “Then I’ll go back into town for round two. This time, I know that half the bad guys will be out looking for me. That’ll make the odds a little easier to deal with. If there’s only three or four left, it’s pretty easy to round them up and arrest them. If there’s more than that, I’ll grab a couple more and do the same thing. Head north and double back.”

  Tom was mesmerized.

  “That sounds like quite a plan. Does it actually work?”

  “Actually yes, usually.”

  “So what happens when the search party gives up and comes back to town?”

  “They find out that the guys left behind are now gone. On their way to another town to stand trial in a district court. And they find something else, too. On the front door of the saloon I’ll post a sign that lists them all by name. It’ll say that I’ll be back to collect the rest of them.”

  “Won’t they be waiting to ambush you when you return?”

  “Nope. Because the note doesn’t say when I’m coming back. And it doesn’t say whether I’ll be alone, or will have a hundred other Rangers with me.”

  Sara asked, “So what do they do?”

  “Most of them move on. They figure it’s safer and easier to find another town to live in than to fight a hundred Rangers. And some of them mend their ways and become law abiding citizens again.

  “And here’s the funny part. That note, and the fact that I’ve cut the head off the snake by arresting one of their leaders, is usually all it takes to clean up the town for a while.

  “That’s why I usually don’t go back. The note runs some of them off, straightens others up, and keeps everybody guessing. And it frees me up so I can take in my prisoners. Then I typically go on my next assignment.”

  “Damn,” Sara thought to herself. “Handsome and smart too.”

  Tom was more vocal with his thoughts.

  “Randy, if you ever get tired of Rangerin’ let me know. I’ll offer you a job as one of my deputies.”

  -36-

  John Castro was seemingly the only person in San Antonio who didn’t know he’d been shot.

  He opened his eyes to find Hannah sleeping peacefully on his chest.

  His head pounded and his whole body ached from lying in bed for almost three weeks.

  “Honey,” he said. “What happened? Why am I in a hospital?”

  At the first sound of John’s voice Hannah’s eyes opened. For a split second she thought she was dreaming.

  Then she looked at John’s face and started to cry.

  It was several seconds before his question even registered in her mind.

  “Oh, baby. You don’t remember? You were shot. Twice.”

  He was dumbfounded.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No. The doctors said you probably wouldn’t be aware of what happened. The first shot was to your head. It didn’t penetrate your brain, but did some damage nonetheless. You took a second shot to the chest. It just barely missed your heart.”

  “When? Where? Who shot me? And why?”

  “The who and why we don’t know yet. They’re trying to find out. The where was wherever you go to pick flowers for me every day. Apparently whoever shot you knew your habits and waited for you there. When you got there he shot you.”

  John looked puzzled, but didn’t say anything.

  Hannah continued.

  “With God as my witness, John Castro… if you ever bring me flowers again I will beat you senseless.”

  He smiled.

  “Some would say I’m already senseless.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll beat you senselesser.”

  “Senselesser? Is that even a word?”

  “It is if I say so. I’m a worried and pissed off wife. I’m allowed to make up words if I want to.”

  “I hope you’re not pissed off at me.”

  “No, baby. At whoever did this to you. To us. To the girls.”

  “Where are the girls? Are they here?”

  “No. I wouldn’t let them come up here. I didn’t want them to see you like this. You’ve always been their rock. I didn’t know how it would affect them to see you so helpless and frail.”

  “I want to see them.”

  “I’ll have somebody bring them up. They’ll be so happy to hear your voice.”

  At that moment a nurse came into the room to check John’s vitals. She saw that he was awake and talking, and gasped. Then she ran back out of the room.

  John said, “Well that’s it. Our secret is out. Soon the room will be crawling with people. If we’re gonna make love we’d better do it quick.”

  Hannah said, “I’ll settle for just looking into your eyes. I’ve missed them.”

  She noticed him staring at her face, and suddenly realized how she must look.

  “Oh, my goodness. I must be a horrible fright. I haven’t washed my hair, or even had a decent shower, in days. And if I knew you were going to wake up, I’d have put on a little makeup.”

  He smiled.

  “You’ve never been more beautiful than you are right this minute. And as for the makeup, I’ve told you before. Some women don’t need makeup. For some women, all makeup does is cover up their natural beauty.”

  “Yeah, you silver-tongued devil. You’ve told me that before. And I’ve yet to meet even one of those women you’re talking about. But if you keep up the sweet talk, I may just take you up on your offer to make love after all.”

  Then the nurse returned, with two doctors and a second nurse in tow.

  “Oops,” Hannah said. “Too late.”

  John said, “Shucks!” and looked genuinely disappointed.

  -37-

  By the time Chief Martinez and Frank Woodard walked in to John’s hospital room, the patient was napping again.
<
br />   Hannah stood up to hug Martinez, then shook Frank’s hand.

  “Are you any closer to catching the bastards who did this?”

  “I’m still running down some leads. I guess we were misinformed. We were told he was awake and talking.”

  “He is. I mean he was. He was awake for about twenty minutes, before he wore himself out and nodded off again.”

  “Oh, no…”

  “Oh, it’s okay. The doctor said that it’s a lot of work, physically and mentally, to carry on a twenty minute conversation after being unconscious for nineteen days. It wore him out. The doctor said he’ll come around again when his body rests some more.”

  Martinez was disappointed.

  “We wanted to ask him what he saw before he was shot.”

  “Oh, I can answer that for you. He didn’t see anything. He didn’t even know he’d been shot until I told him. In fact he didn’t even remember going to the field to pick flowers.

  “The doctor said that’s not unusual. That the memories of that day may come back at some point. Or they could be gone forever.”

  Frank was disappointed too. He’d been looking forward to finally meeting the man everyone in the SAPD spoke so highly of. But that would have to wait for another time.

  Hannah said, “Chief, I hate to ask. If it’s an imposition, just say so. But do you think you could have one of your officers pick up my girls and bring them here? They haven’t seen their daddy since he was shot and they’ve been going nuts.”

  “Sure. I’ll make it happen. Anything else?”

  “Would you spread the word to the department that John’s awake? And that he appears to be his old self? I know that a lot of his friends were worrying about possible brain damage. That he wouldn’t be the same after he woke up.”

  “Sure. I’ll be glad to take care of that too. And how about you? Do you want to finally go home and get some sleep now that you know he’s okay?”

  “Nope. As soon as you guys are gone I’m going to the vacant room next door and I’m going to shower and fix my hair. Then I’m going to put on some makeup and crawl into bed with my husband until he wakes up again. After nineteen days, he owes me some snuggle time.”

  -38-

  As they walked through the parking lot on the way back to Chief Martinez’ car Frank asked him, “She doesn’t know that the man who shot her husband may be a cop?”

  “Nope. And we’re not gonna tell her, either. Not until we’re damn sure.”

  Back in the car and headed back to the police station, a thought suddenly came to Martinez’ mind.

  “Hey, do you want to hear my second favorite John Castro story?”

  Frank rolled his eyes, but there wasn’t much else to talk about. So he said, “Sure.”

  “When he graduated from the Police Academy, at the head of his class, I got a call from a Colonel Winsted from the United States Marine Corps. He said he was John’s commanding officer in Iraq when John lost his leg. He asked if he could come to the graduation.

  “So I reserved a seat for him at the head table, across from me, and we had a long talk at the pre-graduation dinner.

  “It turned out that Colonel Winsted was the first one who got the word when Congress approved the Medal of Honor for John’s heroics in Fallujah. The Hummer he was in was hit by an IED, and then he and his crew were pinned down by fire from insurgents.

  “Their radio was destroyed in the blast, and his handheld wasn’t working very well either. So it was some time before he could call in for close air support and evac.

  “Anyway, he was the only one who was still able to return fire, and his lower leg was gone. There were some stone buildings nearby, but he and his comrades were pretty much out in the open. So with half a leg gone, he returned fire, while dragging his buddies to the safety of the buildings. All the while trying to keep his tourniquet tight so he wouldn’t bleed to death.

  “Even when he was a Marine, they loved this guy.

  “Anyway, Winsted told John he was invited to the White House so the President could put the Medal of Honor around his neck.

  “But John had just been fitted with his prosthetic leg and was undergoing physical and occupational therapy. So Winsted told him it was up to him.

  “So John being John said that going would be a pain in the ass, and he didn’t particularly like the President. But he said he’d go if he could take the surviving members of his fire team to D.C. for a couple of days of sightseeing.

  “And that, my friend, sums up John Castro in a nutshell.”

  “Yeah, yeah. So he’s a nice guy. I just wish he saw the man who shot him and could give us a good description.”

  “Yeah. I was hoping that myself. Where do you go from here?”

  “I’m gonna put my rusty ballistics skills to good use and hope for the best. How much do you know about this Officer Benton?”

  “Good officer. Not great, but better than average. He was the subject of one internal affairs investigation about five years ago. A biker he busted showed up at booking beat all to hell. Claimed Benton pistol whipped him. The charge was deemed to be unfounded after the guy’s own gang told IA he’d been in a drunken bar fight.”

  “Is that all the paper you’ve got on him?”

  “Oh, the usual beefs. Citizen complaints claiming he wrote them speeding tickets when they weren’t speeding. Drunks saying he treated them too rough or falsified field sobriety tests because he had it in for them. In one case a man claimed Benton ‘disrespected’ him because he didn’t call him ‘sir.’ That kind of stuff. But every beat cop has to put up with that kind of crap. His file is no worse than anyone else’s.”

  “What do the other officers think of him?”

  “They generally like him. He’s not the life of the party, and some consider him rather aloof. But being a loner isn’t a crime.”

  “No. But attempted murder is.”

  “That, my good friend, is why you’re on the case. If Benton is guilty of attempted murder, I want you to prove it. And if he’s not, I want you to lay off of him. He is, after all, one of my officers.”

  They pulled into the parking garage of the SAPD and the chief parked in his reserved spot.

  As Frank opened the door and stepped out, Martinez said, “Hey, do you want to hear my third favorite John Castro story?”

  Frank quickened his pace and walked away, calling over his shoulder, “Definitely not.”

  -39-

  Ranger Randy Maloney had accepted Tom’s invitation to join them on their last day’s ride to Castroville.

  When they reached the town’s outskirts, though, he asked them to hold up.

  “I’m afraid this is where we’re going to have to part ways, at least for a time.”

  But Tom and Sara had taken a liking to the young lawman.

  Sara said, “But why?”

  “I don’t want you to be associated with me. If I take one of their ringleaders and word got around that we rode into town together, they might retaliate by going after you. I don’t want either of y’all to get caught up in my business. And I don’t want to get distracted by having to stop what I’m doing and coming to rescue you if you get taken as a hostage for trade.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “Tom would never let me be taken hostage.”

  Randy winked at Tom and said, “I wasn’t talking about them taking you hostage. I get the sense you’d be more than they could handle. I was talking about them taking Tom hostage.”

  She liked Randy. So did Tom. They’d bonded quickly and become fast friends.

  Neither of them liked the idea of the young Ranger going into a hostile town alone.

  But it was his call, and he’d done it many times before.

  And he was still alive.

  And seemingly no worse for wear.

  Except, perhaps, for the ugly red scar Sara had noticed creasing his neck, just below his collar line.

  She’d noticed it when he bent over slightly to reach for his horse’s reins
, and wanted to ask him about it.

  But she wasn’t quite sure they were close enough friends yet to ask about something that might hit a raw nerve.

  So instead she asked, “Will we see you again? After you clean up the town, that is?”

  “I don’t know. Probably. I’ll have to take my prisoners to San Antonio and deposit them at the jail. And then I’ll report in for my next assignment. They usually let me cool my heels and rest for a few days. If they do I’ll ride back and see how your search is going.”

  Tom’s curiosity got the best of him.

  “How are you able to communicate with Ranger Headquarters in Austin when you’re always in the saddle?”

  Randy reached into the saddlebag behind the six gun he wore. He pulled out a well-worn set of papers, handwritten and stapled together.

  “This is my cheat sheet of radio operators.”

  He saw the puzzled look on Tom’s face and elaborated.

  “Pretty much every town and city in Texas has at least a few preppers. Some stored food and water and ammunition and that’s about it.

  “The serious preppers, though, went far beyond that. They stored vehicle parts, generators and ham radios.

  “The curious thing about preppers is that they’re almost always upstanding citizens. I don’t know why, but you very seldom find a prepper who’s a dirt bag. Nearly every one of them is a law abiding citizen who wants to do what’s right.

  “That’s why it’s so easy for us to enlist their help to communicate with Austin, and with each other.

  “This,” he said while indicating the handful of papers, “is our ham radio phone book, if you will.”

  “For nearly every city in Texas, this list contains at least one name and address of a good citizen prepper who has a working ham radio, and who has said we’re welcome to use it.”

  Suddenly Randy seemed to spot something in the distance and held a finger to his lips.

  Tom and Sara grew silent as Randy drew his Winchester rifle from the saddle sheathe.

  He took careful aim and shot a rabbit about eighty yards away.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Randy said. “I’ve shared this list with peace officers several times before. You’re welcome to make your own copy, if you want to take the time to copy it all down. I’ve got some extra sheets of paper and a pencil in my bag. And while you’re doing that, I’ll cook us up some supper.