Chapter 10: Calm Before the Storm

Miles heard as the group drew close to the house. He grabbed his rifle and met them outside. Connor and Charlie's three men had the Nevilles surrounded as they neared.

"Stop right there. They need to be disarmed before they come in here."

"What? No faith in me, Miles?" Tom Neville feigned surprise as he held his hands up. Jason just stared straight ahead as their weapons were taken from them.

When Miles was satisfied they were as harmless as they were going to get, he motioned for them to follow him inside. Miles and Connor entered first, the Nevilles followed, and Charlie's men brought up the rear.

Miles and Connor made their way to the table in the center of the room, but Tom's vision went straight to what was clearly the back of Sebastian Monroe. He smirked, "Afraid to even face me, now General Monroe?" derision dripping from his words.

Just as Jason let out one low chuckle, a pair of very feminine hands ran around Monroe's sides and landed at his waist. He leaned down for what was clearly a kiss before he turned.

"Got better things to look at Tom." He put a hand behind Charlie's back and brought her to the table with him.

Jason was frozen in the center of the room, a look of complete shock and horror on his face. "Charlie? What the hell?" His gaze went from Charlie, to Bass, and back again. "You can't be serious!"

She didn't even give his outburst a glance as she sat at the table. "Any trouble, boys?" she asked her men.

Martin spoke for the group. "No ma'am. In and out, no problem. Can't say we enjoyed the company, though." He glanced at Neville, for whom he clearly had no respect.

Tom's smirk was now directed at Miles. "Keeping it all in the family, are we?"

"Shut up," Miles grunted. "Unless you're only here to piss me off, start talking about something useful." He looked at the notations he'd made on the map. "We've marked camp borders, patrol routes, and estimated numbers. Take a look and see if it seems accurate."

Tom noticed his son's eyes hadn't left Charlie and his expression was quickly moving from shocked to pissed off. "Jason." No response came. "Jason! Go keep an eye out in case we were followed while I fill them in on what we know."

Jason looked to his father as if to refuse, but then thought better of it. He moved slowly to the door, and Charlie motioned for two of her men to follow him. The nodded and silently moved to his sides.

"The camp borders are correct." Tom focused on the map. "But they also have patrols here, to the North, and on this side, making a circle to the southwest." He took the pencil and marked them as he spoke. "Your numbers are way off, though. They have twice as many men inside the camp."

"Great," mumbled Bass. "I don't suppose you have any good news?"

"I might," Tom replied. "If you think your little merry band of men can handle it. In three weeks, the local commander and a group of his advisors are heading to Washington to update the President. Clearly with a group of this import traveling, they'll be heavily guarded by Patriot troops. Basically, the camp will be divided. If you can intercept the commander and his party, and stop them, then the camp should be a piece of cake." He looked from Bass to Miles. "You're going to need more men than the few I've seen here, though, if you want this to work."

"Will you be traveling with the commander?" Miles questioned.

"No, of course not. My mission is to stay here and kill or capture Sebastian Monroe." He looked at Bass with a sardonic smile.

"Just try it, asshole." Bass made to move toward Tom, but Charlie stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"Huh, how the mighty have fallen…how do you like my son's leftovers?"

With that, Charlie released her hold on Bass who immediately punched Tom Neville in the face. As Tom reeled forward, Bass brought him down with a blow to the back of his head. He took Charlie by the hand, and they stepped over Tom's body and headed for the door. "Let us know when you've taken the trash out."

Tom spat the blood from his mouth as he pulled himself off of the floor. "You better get your boy in line, Miles, or our deal is off."

Miles moved to stand within an inch of Tom, nose to nose. "You better back off, or I'll kill you myself. You just get yourself and your love-sick kid back to camp. Three weeks and we'll be ready. We'll take out this little traveling caravan and then come calling. I'll expect you at the gates, ready to let us in." Miles shoved Tom toward the door, then muttered under his breath, "bastard."

oOo

The next three weeks were tense, to say the least. Two of Charlie's men were sent to quietly spread the word that Monroe and Matheson were readying to take on the Patriots. Martin and Dixon knew where to find a few scattered men that may still be loyal to the militia. The rest of her crew prowled the local area, scavenging all the weaponry they could get their hands on.

Charlie herself was determined to get in battle ready shape. Though the leg still pained her somewhat at the end of long days, she trained feverishly. Bass and Miles were getting both she and Connor up to par. Rachel and Gene gathered as many medical supplies as they could. While no one wanted to think about one or more of them being injured, it was quite frankly inevitable considering what they were up against.

As busy as the days were, the nights were just the opposite. A quiet evening reminiscing around a fire was a common scene. It did improve the camaraderie among the group. Rachel invited Bass and Charlie into the house, promising to keep her glares to a minimum. They did make an effort to keep their bedroom quiet, as did Miles and Rachel they were assuming. Connor moved into the tent they had vacated, still not quite over the hurt of losing Charlie. At least not ready to watch them together all night long.

It was the waiting that tested all of their nerves. It was as if they were living in a false peace. They knew they would all be risking their lives in a matter of days. Finally, just two days before the Patriot group was set to leave, Martin and Dixon returned, expanding their camp in the woods by 10 men.

Connor came to the house early the next morning to report on the readiness of the men. Miles and Rachel weren't up yet, but Bass and Charlie were sitting at the table.

"Charlie, I'm not messing around. You need to talk to your grandfather. We're fighting tomorrow, it's no time for you to be sick." Bass was looking at her with concern.

"What's up?" Connor joined them at the table.

"It's nothing," Charlie protested. "I'm fine. Just ate too fast on an empty stomach." A plate of bread and fruit sat in front of her.

Connor looked to his Dad. "What's the big deal, then?"

"The big deal is, the same thing happened yesterday."

"Stop Bass, I'm fine. I swear. I feel better already."

Bass sighed. "I just worry about you Charlie. You've been pushing yourself too hard. I've lost too much in my life, I can't even imagine if …." He paused, and realization slowly dawned in his eyes. "Charlie…when is the last time you had a period?"

"Ewww Bass. Seriously." She looked to Connor, clearly embarrassed to have this discussion in front of him.

"I am serious, Charlotte. You've been sick two days in row, but feel fine, and you've not had a period since we've been together. Think!"

Charlie had started to catch on by this time and shook her head. "No Bass, that's not what's going on. I had one…ummm…just before we all went to New Vegas…that was…"

"Five weeks ago," Connor offered, finally understanding where this was all going.

A look that was a mixture of half hope and half pure terror filled Bass's eyes. "Charlotte, that's it. We talk to your grandfather NOW." He reached across the table and took her hand. This time he spoke softly, as he searched her face. "You could be carrying my child."

She met his eyes as a small smile spread over her lips, which turned to horror as Connor spoke three simple words.

"Or your grandchild."