Part Thirty-One

Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0910 Local

Harm watched as Singer strode rapidly back and forth. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot he could say to make her feel any better. Still, they had at least three hours - maybe some sort of escape plan could be devised. He shook his head in disgust, he thought he'd had this taken care of with Trask. The man was turning out to be a real psychopath and predicting his next move was becoming damn near impossible.

"Lieutenant," Harm began tentatively, "You're wearing yourself to a frazzle. Sit down for a minute, maybe we can figure something out."

Lauren threw up her hands while she continued to pace, "Figure what out? That lunatic is going to SELL me! Goddammit!! As far as I can tell, my only choices will be dying or wishing I was dead. Unless, of course, you've put together some wonderfully brilliant plan to escape?" She stopped and glared at him. Harm gazed silently back. Most of his hopes were based on help arriving in time - and there were no guarantees. Lauren snorted, "That's what I thought. So spare me your sympathy and the mindless morale-boosting. Things *are* as bad as they seem!"

The door to their room banged open. Reverend Trask stood in the doorway, scowling, "You two have been lying to me."

Harm glanced at Singer. "You're wrong, Lieutenant," he breathed, "Things are worse."

Vicinity of Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0905 Local

Mac leaned up against the trunk of a tree and looked over at Walters, "This is where you get off, Gunny." They could just see some of the outbuildings in the distance. "You're sure you can find the Admiral?"

Walters gave a small smile, "Piece of cake, ma'am." He was silent a moment and then said, "Are you sure this has to be done? How do you know they won't kill all of you? The Feds should be here in a couple of hours or so. Can't we just wait?"

Mac studied the ground at her feet before looking back up at Walters. "Yes, I'm pretty sure it has to be done this way and no, we can't wait." She exhaled in frustration as she turned her head to stare at the camp, "I can't explain it, call it woman's intuition or maybe just monumental ego, but Harm and Lauren won't have a couple of hours unless I'm there. I don't think they'll kill me, they went to a lot of trouble to get me here in the first place." She looked back down at her feet, but not before Gunny caught the bleak expression in her eyes. "I think I know why they want me and it will be to their advantage to keep me as healthy as possible... ." She paused and then looked up and smiled, "It's probably a good thing I can't run. Otherwise, I think I'd be in Canada by now." Mac pushed herself off the tree, "Time's a-wasting, Gunny. Go find the Admiral."

Walters gazed at her for a moment before coming to attention and saluting. Startled, Mac returned it reflexively. Then she smiled and flapped her hand at him, "Gunny... Shoo."

"Yes ma'am." Turning, he headed deeper in the woods. He paused after a couple of steps, looking back over his shoulder and grinning, "When you feel the aftershock, you'll know I found the Admiral." Mac watched until he disappeared into the underbrush and then resolutely turned towards the militia camp.

Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0918 Local

Harm turned towards the Reverend and with a calm he was far from feeling, said, "I beg your pardon?" He was peripherally aware of Singer tensing at his words.

Trask stomped further into the room and leaned menacingly towards Harm, "According to the both of you, Colonel MacKenzie is dead, correct? That was quite a convincing little act you two put on - I told my men to stop searching. No point in wasting time and energy, right? So you may imagine my surprise when a routine patrol stumbles across one of my men bound and gagged. We thought he had deserted... and he had the most interesting story to tell. Would you like to hear it?"

Harm nodded numbly. Son of a bitch! There was no doubt in his mind who the militia man had run into. Perez was supposed to get Mac away from these lunatics!

"It seems he came across Colonel MacKenzie, alive and well; but before he could bring her in, he was assaulted by a number of her associates. They discussed killing him outright but he managed to convince them not to and they tied him up instead." Trask folded his arms and glared at the Commander, "Remarkable behavior for a corpse, wouldn't you say? How many men did you bring with you?"

Outwardly relaxed, Harm even managed to chuckle ruefully, "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that the Colonel is still alive." Both Trask and Singer stared at him. "That is a pretty remarkable story, Reverend, and it's only fair to to say that at least part of it is true. Tell me, have you ever seen Colonel MacKenzie?"

Trask shook his head suspiciously, "What difference would that possibly make?"

Harm smiled slightly, "The Colonel is an extremely attractive woman, something that tends to make men overlook the fact that she is also a fully trained Marine. I'd be surprised if the only thing your man thought of when he saw her, was to bring her in." He waited a moment to let that idea sink in, "Tell him he's pretty lucky, Mac killed the last man who tried to assault her. Gutted him with his own knife."

Trask stared at Rabb, nonplussed. This was not the way he had imagined the conversation would go. He had expected angry denials and self-righteous counterclaims of lying. The Commander's theory was plausible: Rufe Martin was a pig in every sense of the word, attempted rape wouldn't be out of the question. Giving himself a mental shake, he scowled at Rabb, "The fact remains that the two of you lied. Why should I believe anything you say now?"

Aware that he was splitting hairs, Harm said carefully, "We didn't lie to you. We lied to Captain Koslov. I'd have done whatever was necessary to keep Colonel MacKenzie out of that bastard's hands. Afterwards, when I realized that you were actually in charge, I'm afraid I just didn't know how to bring it up." He inclined his head, "I apologize for that."

The Reverend looked at Harm for a long moment and then began to pace the room. Once again, he'd been reminded of just how clever and dangerous Rabb was. He found he liked the man, if nothing else than for the intellectual challenge. He was well aware the Commander could still be lying to him. He amended that: was still lying to him. The question was: did the risk outweigh the possible benefits of keeping him alive? He had hopes of manipulating Rabb into helping keep Koslov's supply line open and possibly expanding it as well. Now he was beginning to feel the whole idea was futile. Finally, he stopped pacing and sighed. He looked over at Harm, "I accept your apology and in return, offer one of my own." He turned and looked at Preston, "Kill him."

Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0925 Local

Tink threw another shovelful of dirt over his shoulder and then paused for a moment. He watched with a certain amount of malicious glee as Liston and Thomason sweated and cursed as they, too, continued to dig. Trask had assigned all three to ditch-digging for the foreseeable future. There was some justice in the world after all. It was about time those two got to share in the work.

He didn't pay attention to the voices at first. Even as the volume increased, he didn't think anything of it. No doubt another fistfight had broken out and now bets were being made. Then the timbre changed and suddenly alarm bells were going off in his head. In one fluid motion, Tink was out of the ditch and striding towards the noise, ignoring Liston's angry protest. He'd heard the sound of an out-of-control mob before.

He rounded the corner of a building, shovel still in hand, and looked out upon a chaotic scene. With the advantage of his height, Tink was able to see over most of the milling crowd towards the center where a melee was taking place. His mouth dropped open in shock when he saw a grim-faced Col. MacKenzie in the midst of the maelstrom. She and her two lone defenders were being pushed, shoved and pummeled as the increasingly frenzied crowd surged around them. Suddenly, in a flurry of movement, all three disappeared from sight.

With a roar, Tink waded in swinging shovel and fist in murderous abandon. In seconds, the mob's attention was divided as the men closest to the oncoming juggernaut fought and clawed to get out of his path. It took him several minutes to work his way to the center; even though a path had more or less opened in front as men scrambled frantically out of his way. He lurched into the small, clear area and took in the tableau that had frozen upon his arrival. Of Mac's two defenders, one was facedown and unmoving and the other sat holding his head. The Colonel was pinned to the ground by three men while a fourth man stood just in front. His hands were still on his pants and his leering grin was fast fading into panic-stricken shock as he stared at Tink.

With surprising swiftness, Tink closed the gap between them and one massive hand wrapped around the man's throat. Almost beside himself with rage, he tightened his grip and lifted the man off the ground. He watched the man's eyes bulge as his face turned dark red and then heaved him as hard as he could into the crowd. Two of the other men had used the opportunity to flee into the mob. The third pulled out a large hunting knife and lunged at Tink's back only to stumble when Mac kicked at his legs as he passed. Tink pivoted as the man recovered and renewed his attack. Swinging the shovel, Tink caught him with an edge, causing the man to drop the knife as his forearm was laid open. Stepping in quickly, Tink brought his fist down on top of the man's head, dropping him in a heap.

The mob stood in shocked silence as he reached down and hauled Mac to her feet. "Move," was all he rumbled as he propelled her down the still-open path. In a very few moments, the crowd was going to come out of its daze and he needed to find a defensible position. They had just cleared the edges when he heard the low, ominous growl. Grabbing the Colonel by the upper arm, he practically lifted her off her feet as he sprinted the last few yards to the side of a building. It wasn't ideal, but it would do. Leaning her up against the wall, he turned around and placed himself in front, glaring at the mob as they surged forward. Tink took a couple of swings with the shovel and then stood poised and ready.

Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0931 Local

Harm sat frozen as he watched Preston step forward. With all the dangerous situations he'd managed to walk away from, to die now seemed almost ludicrous. He stared at Trask, who was standing by the door with the other guard. If he could somehow separate them, maybe he'd have a chance. He allowed a note of outrage to creep into his voice, "Just like that? That's all you have to say? 'Kill him?' You may as well have been ordering lunch."

The Reverend blinked, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Harm snapped, "And what about Lt. Singer? You were just going to shoot me in front of her? You realize how messy that can get? At least show some concern for her feelings, what kind of gentleman are you?"

By now, everyone in the room was looking at him like he was nuts. He really didn't care. Trask was a psychopath, without a doubt, but one with particular ideas and a certain twisted sense of chivalry. Harm crossed his arms over his chest and continued to glare at the Reverend. In a voice icy with disdain, he said, "I thought southern men were raised better than that."

Trask's jaw clenched as his face reddened. With a sudden jerk of his hand, he growled, "Take the Lieutenant back to her quarters and stay there until I send for you."

The guard had just reached for Singer's arm, when they all heard a commotion in the hallway. Moments later, a skinny, pasty-faced man burst into the room. Harm groaned to himself, he'd been so close! His attention was riveted along with the rest, when the man began to babble excitedly, "Reverend! You have to come quick! It's turning into a riot, that big guy is going berserk!"

Trask regarded the man impatiently, "What are you blathering about, Humphrey?"

Humphrey took a breath, "One of the patrols found the other woman and while they were bringing her here they started attracting a crowd. Some of the boys have had a little too much beer and things started getting rowdy. Then that really big guy got all excited, waded in and started swinging and now things are completely out of hand. You've got to come, Reverend! Right now!"

Without another word, Trask pivoted and marched out, followed by his two guards and Humphrey. The door slammed shut and there was the sound of a bolt sliding home. Harm and Singer stared at each other.

Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0940 Local

The crowd in front milled about uncertainly, no one wanted to be the first to take the big man on. The rumbling grew louder as those in the back started pushing forward, trying to force the confrontation. Tink waited impassively, he knew at some point they would either rush him en masse or someone would realize he wasn't bulletproof.

Abruptly, the mob grew quiet. Tink could see the ripple and swirl through the crowd that meant someone was coming through. Finally, Reverend Trask strode angrily into the open no-man's land between Tink and the mob, flanked by his guards. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked in a soft, deadly tone.