A/N: What would a fanfic be without a mention of the ownership of Chuck? Well, probably a Harry Potter fanfic, but never mind about that.
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"Where is your brother?"
"Glory Hole."
They all looked at each other with a mixture of surprise, confusion and maybe a little trepidation.
"What?" asked Chuck, finally. He was blushing beet red.
Candy saw his blush and shook her head. "No, no. Not that. The Glory Hole. It's in Lake Berryessa. Up near Winters. It's a part of the Monticello Dam spillway. It's really cool when they open it up to drain the reservoir. It's like a hole in the water. Really cool to see. Only happens every few years when the water is too high. My brother lives near that, along Putah Creek. It's up in Napa County." She seemed distracted, maybe a little bit on autopilot. Between the news of Bryce's death and the violence she'd just witnessed, Candy was pretty shook up.
"So that's what? An hour and a half drive?" asked Casey.
"Oh, more than that at this hour. San Francisco traffic."
"Can you call him and have him meet us halfway, maybe?"
"Naw. No phone service where he is. He's in a dead zone for cell service and his landline got shut off cause he didn't pay."
"Shit," said Casey.
"Can you show us where he lives? Can you take us there?" asked Chuck.
"Sure. Just let me put on some pants," she said, heading for the stairs.
Casey said, "Hey, Tuco, go hang around in the kitchen. Don't split though. Some cleaners are on the way to take care of the bodies and they'll want to talk to you."
"Cops?" asked Tuco.
"No, Feds."
"La Migra?"
"No. Feds that you will never be able to tell anyone you met. Just like us. We were never here, huh, amigo?" said Casey.
Sarah spoke to him again in Spanish. He nodded once, fear in his eyes, and headed to the kitchen.
"You don't have to scare the piss out of him every single time you talk to him, you know," said Casey.
"I don't like pimps. Never have," said Sarah with finality.
Mead and Reis approached them. "Look, I know you're pissed off at us," said Mead. "I don't blame you at all. Reis and I, well, we messed up. Let us come with you to Berryessa. No screw ups this time. Einerson is still in the wind and seems to be pretty relentless in trying to snag this McGuffin. Come on, Sarah. Give us another chance."
Sarah looked irritated, but said, "Up to Chuck and Casey. If they want you along, it's ok with me. But one more snafu like we just had and that's it."
"Understood," said Mead.
Reis said nothing.
Chuck looked to Casey, who shrugged ok. Chuck said, "Ok, guys."
"Thanks," said Mead.
There was a knock at the door as the CIA cleaners arrived. Shortly afterwards, Candy came down the stairs, freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a pink blouse. She grabbed a fleece-lined denim jacket, as it would be colder near the Lake.
"Ok, guys, I'm ready. Let's go."
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In summer months, the beautiful waters of Lake Berryessa were a draw for boaters and vacationers, with resorts scattered around the lake. While the day was clear and bright, at this time of year, the temperature hovered around the high 40's, too cold for water sports. The rugged hills (they were too small to be called mountains), were green and relatively lush. It was a lovely drive, but they were not paying too much attention to the scenery. Chuck, Casey and Sarah were keeping an eye out for Einerson, who had an uncanny habit of showing up and bringing violence with him. Mead and Reis were following in the car behind them.
Casey drove with Chuck in the passenger seat navigating. Sarah and Candy sat together in the back seats, chatting quietly. Sarah had gently drawn out the other woman, encouraging her to talk about her life, her chosen profession, her upbringing, her family. Sarah was clearly empathetic to what Candy had gone through to lead her to her life choices. Although Sarah didn't share anything about her own life, Candy probably didn't notice that. By the end of the drive, Candy seemed to have come to grips with Bryce's death. She was still upset, but no longer crying on and off. Sarah was a calming influence. Once or twice she even got Candy to laugh a little.
Eventually, the little caravan had turned onto a long dirt road leading up to a small cabin. The structure was a single story and in a mild state of disrepair. A raised front porch ran the length of the cabin with a couple of aluminum lawn chairs standing guard. A Jeep with brown rust stains sat near the building. This was the last house on the road. Behind it the rolling hills rose steeply into light forest.
Spotting the Jeep, Candy said, "Oh, good. Freddy's home."
At the sound of the cars approaching, Candy's brother stepped out of the house. He was about medium height and very skinny, with a mop of black hair. His skin hung on him loosely, as if he'd recently lost a great deal of weight. He was dressed in cargo shorts and a dirty tee shirt and wore flip-flops on his feet. He held a cannon in his right hand. At least, it looked like a cannon to Chuck. In reality it was a Colt Anaconda .44 magnum revolver with an 8" barrel. Casey looked at it with appreciation. It took a strong person to wield that weapon effectively, but it had the stopping power of a freight train.
Candy said, "Oh, I hope he's not high...but, he needs a coat. It's not warm out..."
She was out of the car the moment it stopped. "Freddy, you'll get a cold. You need your coat, sweetie. It's like fifty degrees. Come on."
He gave her a weak lopsided grin and put the weapon down on a folding chair. "Stop being mom. You're my baby sister." He wrapped her in a loose hug and kissed the top of her head. "Who're your friends?"
The five others had unloaded from the two cars by this point. Candy said, "Guys, this is my brother Freddy. Freddy, this is Chuck and his girlfriend Sarah. And their friends Casey, Jim and ….Mr. Reis. I never did get your first name, Mr. Reis."
"Just Reis is fine," said Reis, who apparently could talk after all.
They shook hands. Candy said, "They need to pick up the computer thing..."
"Disk," said Freddy.
"Yeah, the computer disk I gave you the other day to hold for me," said Candy.
Freddy studied the group for a few moments and said, startled, "Holy shit. Your friend really was a spy. I thought you were kidding."
"No. I wasn't kidding. He really was a spy. For real. Casey and Sarah killed two men at my house just before. Bad guys who wanted to take it." She sounded both horrified and excited at the action she'd seen.
Freddy looked at them with quizzical surprise. Casey nodded once. Freddy blew out a long breath. "Holy shit. Ok, then. Let's get you the disk."
"Thanks." Casey said, with a nod to the pistol, "That's a fine weapon, Freddy." Freddy picked it up and carried it inside.
"My favorite pistol. You like guns, Casey?"
"Yeah. I do."
"I've got quite the collection. All but a handful are for sale, so if you see something you like, make me an offer."
"I'll keep that in mind. Why are you selling?"
"I'm an addict. Opioids. I'm selling my guns to buy drugs," said Freddy, matter-of-factly.
"That's rough," said Casey, eyeing him with curiosity. In Casey's experience, such calm acceptance of addiction was rare. But the signs were there – jumpy, wired, shallow breathing. He was coming down from a high.
"Yeah. It sucks. Construction work. Got hurt and took permanent disability. Docs gave me oxy for the pain. Now I'm addicted to the shit. Tried to get off, but no go. It sucks. Luckily, this place is paid for, otherwise I'd have lost it to the bank for sure."
"There are programs. Programs to help," said Sarah.
"Oh, I know. I've been to Duffy's in Calistoga. Only so much coverage you can get to pay for that stuff, though. And my heart wasn't really in it, you know? Without that, I'm just wasting resources. Other people need that help too. It's a fucking epidemic."
They had followed him inside. The cabin was a single room, with the kitchen area along one wall, a table and chairs centered and a couch farther along to the opposite wall. Behind the couch, against the wall, was a gun cabinet with several long guns inside. It was a pretty spartan home. Freddy didn't have much in the way of personal knick-knacks, unless he had sold them all.
He walked over to a small table along the far wall and opened a drawer. Moving aside a pistol he removed a computer disk in a translucent blue plastic holder from the drawer. He handed it to Candy, who handed it to Chuck. Chuck took out his laptop and turned it on. He said to Sarah and Casey, "After chasing this thing around northern California, let's make sure it's the right one."
"Good idea," growled Casey.
Reis was by the still open door, looking out. "Guys," he said.
A small drone was landing in the front yard of the home, between the cabin and their cars. Mead said, "Hey, Freddy, you have any neighbors who mess around with drones?"
"Nope. Why?"
"Aw, shit," said Mead, drawing his Glock 17 from beneath his jacket.
Casey and Sarah hurried outside to look at the now grounded drone. From inside the house, looking at the contents of the disk, Chuck murmured, "What the hell?" Then, the excitement clear in his voice, he yelled loud enough for Sarah and Casey to hear him outside, "This is it, guys. This is the disk we were looking for." He ejected it from the computer and re-sealed it in the plastic case, then tucked it into his messenger bag.
"Roger that," called Casey. He turned to Sarah, who had a look of concern on her face. "Einerson?"
"Why not? The son of a bitch has been on our heels this whole mission. Guess I'd be surprised if we missed him here."
"He's got some crazy luck," said Casey.
"Yeah. Some luck," said Sarah, with a scowl. They held each other's gaze for a few extra moments, communicating silently.
They went to the SUV they were driving and opened a concealed compartment in the rear. Each of them removed an M-4 carbine, the shortened version of the military's standard M-16, each rifle had the M-26 shotgun accessory mounted underneath. The weapon was two guns in one, a rifle firing bullets and a shotgun firing 12 gauge shotgun rounds. It was a bit bulkier than the normal rifle, but they didn't know what Einerson would bring to the party and they wanted to be prepared. Casey sort of hoped Einerson brought the crossbow. He was growing fond of it.
By the time they had gotten back to the cabin, Freddy had given a Colt AR-15 to Reis, a Remington .750 Woodsmaster to Mead, and kept a Remington 700 for himself. Clearly both Chuck and Candy, the only unarmed members of the group, were uncomfortable with the extensive firepower on display, but they kept that discomfort to themselves.
Only moments later two black SUV's (did these things come in any other color?) rounded the turn in the road about two hundred yards from the cabin. Casey idly contemplated Einerson's funding and decided that someone with deep pockets was bankrolling the Icelandic merc.
Reis put his weapon to his shoulder and took aim, but Casey said, "Hold off, Reis. We don't even know if that's Einerson yet. Mead take the back. These guys have shown the ability to flank us once already today." Mead moved to comply. "Freddy, how you doing?"
Freddy replied, "Sort of freaked out, honestly. Never done this before, but I'll hold it together. You sound like this shit happens to you every day."
Chuck said, "Casey is a Major in the Marines."
Freddy gave a short grin and said, "All right. Devil Dogs." Casey gave an affirmative grunt. Mentally, though, he was very unhappy with the tactical situation. They were sitting ducks in the cabin. There wasn't even any material at hand to build a decent fortified position. Unless Einerson was stupid enough to attack frontally, they were in a difficult spot. If he could rearrange things he'd have his entire team out the back door and into the hills behind the cabin. Take the high ground and either snipe at the enemy from afar or make a long loop and flank them. Either way, he would gain the initiative in the contest. The problem was, though, that neither Chuck nor Candy were combatants and God alone knew the level of training or fitness of the others. They had to protect Fleming's disk, and, Casey reminded himself, the country's only Intersect.
Casey saw the SUVs pull to a stop just behind their own cars, the doors open and Einerson and roughly a half a dozen armed men get out of the cars, all with weapons in their hands. The men began to spread out across the front yard and approach the house with their guns raised. Einerson had left the crossbow at home and armed himself with an assault rifle for this venture. Well, that's that then. In a TV show, the good guys would announce to the bad guys that they were alert and waiting for them and give them a chance to surrender peacefully. This wasn't a TV show.
Casey said, "Call off your targets to each other so we're coordinated." Each of them picked a different target. "Right," said Casey. "Ready...Fire." Five weapons went off at once and three of Einerson's mercenaries fell dead and two more appeared wounded. The men, including Einerson and the wounded, quickly sought cover behind their parked trucks. Mead, covering the rear, had not fired his weapon.
"Yeah," bellowed Freddy. "Got you, you son of a bitch." Gunfire from outside began to pepper the thin walls of the cabin. Each bullet passed through leaving a small round hole in the wall. The windows shattered, throwing glass along the floor.
"Ok, everybody. Keep down. Bartowski, take Candy and find some cover."
"Umm...aren't we under cover now? I mean ...you know...hidden?"
"Yeah, you are concealed, but you aren't under cover. Cover can stop a bullet. A curtain is concealment. A boulder is cover. You have to learn the difference. Go over to the kitchen. Fridge, stove, big pieces of metal. Move one away from the wall and get the two of you behind it."
"Ok, Case." He took Candy and moved to comply.
"Freddy, any chance your neighbors will hear the gunfight and call the cops? Bring us reinforcements?"
"No, Major. This sounds like a typical Saturday here." He gave Casey a lopsided grin. Casey grunted. He hated to admit it, but he liked the guy.
"Cell phones?" Casey asked Freddy.
"Nope. Dead zone. Never get any coverage up here."
They settled down. Time passed. The volume of firing slowed as both sides took the occasional shot at the other if someone stuck their head up. After a while a round clipped Freddy on the left arm. "Shit," he exclaimed. At a glance, Casey could tell it wasn't a serious wound. Candy, though, reacted as his sister and left cover to tend to her brother.
"No, Candy. Get back with Chuck," Casey said, he was standing in the center of the room, watching the fighting.
Sarah said, "Movement." One of Einerson's men leapt up behind the truck. He threw something and ducked back down. It was a great throw and the object landed on the front porch. Through the open door, Casey saw it and yelled "GRENADE."
Candy was still standing on her way to Freddy. Casey reacted as he'd been trained so many years ago, he put his feet closest to the grenade, his head farthest, and hit the floor, but he tackled Candy on his way down to cover her with his body. The grenade went off with a loud bang.
Einerson's men, predictably, took advantage of that explosion to charge across the open ground to the cabin. Between Sarah, Freddy and Reis, who had not left their positions by the windows, they killed two of the men, driving the others back. Now Einerson's men were seriously outnumbered. The shooting eased as Einerson's men regrouped and tried to come up with a plan.
Casey said to Candy, as he was disentangling himself from her and standing up, "Are you ok?"
"Yeah," she replied, shaken. "You saved my life. You saved my life. Thank you, Casey."
"Welcome," he said gruffly, but with a little smile at her.
Chuck said, "Casey, you're bleeding." He was. Blood was soaking through the back of his shirt. Casey removed the shirt. There was a shallow two inch long cut behind his left shoulder. Chuck described the wound to Casey.
He said, "Ok. Walker can stitch me up later. We don't have time for that now." Casey grabbed a sugar bowl from the kitchen counter and a roll of duct tape from a nearby shelf. "Pour some sugar into the wound, then cover it with the tape. That will disinfect it, stop the bleeding and allow me to keep fighting."
"Sugar disinfects?" asked Chuck.
"Yup," said Casey. "When you're done, do the same to Freddy's arm."
"Right, Case."
Chuck took care of Casey, then moved to tend to Freddy's wound. When he was done, Casey said, "Freddy?"
"Yeah, Major?"
"Flatten the tires on their trucks."
"Right." His Remington 700, firing the heaviest round of the five of them (not counting Mead, who was still covering the back) was the ideal choice to make sure their trucks couldn't be used to take to the hills to flank them. His rifle boomed six times and six tires flattened.
Before Casey could thank him, Mead yelled, "Yeah, at last." His rifle boomed once.
Casey said to the others, "Look alive in front. If they sent guys around back, they'll attack on both sides at once."
"No movement, Case," said Sarah.
Casey moved to Mead, "What'd you see?"
"One guy. Tried to come over the crest of the hill over there. I got him." Casey did, indeed, see a body out there. He clapped Mead on the shoulder in approbation.
He moved over to Sarah and Reis. "Mead got one. How many do you think are left?"
Sarah said, "Two, including Einerson." Reis nodded in agreement.
"Any movement over there?"
Both Sarah and Reis shook their heads.
Casey said, "I'd love to know if they are still behind those trucks."
"I can do that. Hold on," said Chuck. He took out his phone and began to enter information. Soon, the drone on the grass in front of the house began to lift off. "These drones use WiFi for control. I just hacked into Einerson's WiFi control frequency, changed his password and took over the drone. We sell these at the Buy More. And...there it is..." They looked outside and the drone was now hovering about a hundred feet up. Chuck hit some more buttons on his phone and the video feed from the drone was routed to him. He could clearly see the men on the far side of the trucks. One of them took aim at the drone and fired. The drone feed died and the drone crashed to the ground.
"Good job," said Casey. "Didn't last long, but spotted the enemy for us." He clapped Chuck on the shoulder. "It'll be getting dark soon. I don't fancy sitting here all night with those assholes taking pot shots at us." He addressed himself to Sarah and Reis, "If you both and Freddy here can lay down some cover fire, I'll bring the fight to them. We're sure where they are now, thanks to Chuck. I can get them in an enfilade and clean house."
"Excellent plan, except you are wounded. I'll go and do it," said Sarah.
"I'm fine," said Casey.
"Me too, and I haven't lost any blood and my left shoulder isn't stiff. Besides, General, I need you here to command the troops," she gave him a small grin.
Casey considered her argument and came to agreement. "Ok, don't get killed, Sarah. I wouldn't want to have to deal with Chuck," he said, with a tight smile. She nodded.
She moved over to the edge of the open door. She looked at Chuck and gave him a small smile and blew him a kiss. He blew her a kiss back, his face a mask of worry. At a sign from Casey, Reis, Freddy and Casey began to pepper fire at Einerson's trucks and the men hidden behind them. Just enough to ensure that the men kept their heads down.
Sarah, trusting her men not to shoot her in the back, sprinted to the close side of the trucks. Squatting down, she made her way to the rear of the last truck. Keeping her gun up and ready, she took out her phone and opened the camera app. She eased it around the edge of the truck, close to the ground and looked at the screen, showing an empty area behind the truck. Moving carefully, so as not to brush against the truck and jostle it, she eased around the corner, now hugging the back of the truck.
This was the one to be concerned about. Unless they had spread out, they would be around this corner. Again, she led with her camera. This time she saw the men. Einerson and a wounded man were about fifteen yards away from her, huddled together. She put away her phone, brushed some errant strands of hair out of her eyes, and took a deep steadying breath. She put her weapon to her shoulder and spun around the corner of the truck, standing up as she did so. The fire from the house stopped abruptly.
"DROP YOUR WEAPONS OR YOU'RE DEAD," she bellowed.
Both men stood and turned to face her. Einerson's wounded man began to raise his gun towards her. She fired two rounds into his chest, killing him. At the last shot, her rifle clicked empty. Einerson grinned at her and said, "Asni." He raised his weapon slowly, savoring the moment. That's when she shot him twice in the chest with the shotgun mounted underneath her rifle. He fell with a look of surprise on his face.
She called out, "I'm done here. Both down."
"Roger that. Good job, Walker." She checked the bodies, but both were dead. She let out a long breath. She knew she would be exhausted later, as the adrenaline wore off. She trudged back up to the house. With the attackers all dead, their little group was jittery and shaky, overdosing on adrenaline. Ears ringing from the constant gunfire. The air smelled of cordite. Hell, their clothes smelled of cordite. Freddy got up and took a pill to steady his nerves. Nobody tried to stop him.
Sarah put down her weapon and said, "Casey, one of us should drive out to get cell phone reception and call for some cleaners."
As she said it, Mead took his Glock from beneath his jacket and fired point blank into the back of Reis' head twice, killing him instantly. Reis had been standing closest to him and still held his weapon. Mead was shifting the aim of his gun to Casey when he realized to his shock that both Casey and Sarah had already drawn on him with their pistols and were holding him at gunpoint with rock steady aim.
"Damn, you guys are fast. You're as good as they say. I figured I could take you all out nice and easy," he said, as he grabbed Freddy around the neck and pulled him in as a human shield. "Come 'ere, you," he said to Freddy.
"Not fast, Mead. We just didn't trust you. We were waiting for you to make your move. Didn't have to be a genius to figure out that someone was feeding info to Einerson. Not a lot of choices here, huh? It was either you or Reis. Guess it was you."
"Einerson? Fucking idiot. Screwed up this whole operation. I ought to make a note to myself. When you hire an attack dog, keep it on the leash a whole lot better than I did with that asshole."
"Hire him to do what, Mead?" asked Sarah.
"To get Fleming's files, of course. Which reminds me, hey, Chuck, give me the disk from your bag or I kill Freddy." Chuck stood there looking at Mead and Freddy, but didn't move. He held Candy, who was barely holding in her panic.
Sarah said, "Oh, come on, you know that's not going to happen, Mead. You know you aren't leaving here with the files. The only question is if you are leaving here alive."
"Oh, I'm a survivor, Sarah."
"You want to survive, Mead, let Freddy go," growled Casey.
"Naw, I don't think so. Brad Pitt here and I, we are going to walk out of here with those files," said Mead.
"Why do you want them so bad?" asked Sarah.
"I don't know. My boss told me to get them, so that's what I'm going to do. Hired Einerson to be the go-between with Fleming. Fucking Fleming. Like Hamlet. I'll sell them to you. I won't sell them to you. I'll sell them to you. Asshole was worse than my ex-wife. Changing his mind like he changed his socks. After the first few discussions, Einerson had made it clear that the bullshit was over. That's why Fleming ran. He was in one of his "no deal" moods. But then the moron calls you guys for help and then fucking hides from you. I mean seriously. What the fuck? That made no sense, right?"
"How'd you know we were going to look for the disk? How'd you find us?" asked Sarah.
"Oh, come on. It was clear that Graham would send a real team after Fleming didn't resurface in a couple of days. All I had to do was stake out Fleming's car in the parking lot. That's where I ran into you." He said the last phrase with an intonation that indicated invisible air quotes. Freddy was struggling. Mead jammed the barrel of his pistol hard into the side of Freddy's head. "Calm down, genius."
"Long time sitting in a parking lot waiting for us to arrive," said Sarah.
"Naw. Motion activated camera on the car. Got a video on my phone of you searching the car and wandered on over to meet you by accident," he said.
"There was no camera. I searched the car. I would have found it," said Sarah.
"Not on Fleming's car. Of course, you would have found it. It was on my car, parked next to Fleming's car. It's why we've been using Reis' car since then. I didn't want you to notice the same car and make the connection."
"So, if Einerson was your man, why help us fight him off here?" asked Casey.
"The asshole went off on his own. Slipped the leash. Probably figured whatever was on the disk could earn him more than I was paying if he took it to the open market. I used him at the park in San Francisco, but even then the guy was unreliable. Why shoot Fleming before he can tell us where the disk was? It was stupid. Made no sense. Don't even get me started on using a goddamn crossbow. What a clown. I used him to get the book from the library, but, of course, the disk wasn't there. Smart, Sarah, figuring out the book reference. Smart girl...I mean, woman.. You know, smart woman... Anyway, this morning was a totally botched operation. Guns blazing again. Candy didn't even have the disk there, but he didn't wait to find out. I cut him loose after that. Don't really know how he followed us up here. Maybe the drones? We could look for a tail, but not looking up. Anyway, this goddamn fiasco just now...serves the asshole right to get himself and his men dead. Tactical idiot in addition to everything else stupid about him. Just fucking standing out there waiting to get shot. More food for me."
"Is that what this is about, Mead? Feathering your own nest? Selling out your country for whatever is on that disk?" growled Casey.
Mead's face darkened and his voice grew angry as he said, "No. I'm a patriot. And I'm part of a group of patriots. You'll see. Given time, I could convince you to join us. It's men and women like us who will save this country. Hard men and women who will do what's necessary. The lever that moves the nation to safety will turn on us. We call ourselves..."
He had gotten more animated as he spoke, and took the gun away from Freddy's head to gesture. Freddy reacted immediately. He grabbed the wrist of Mead's gun hand with both of his hands and sunk his teeth into Mead's hand. Mead screamed and struggled to pull the hand away. The gun fell to the floor with a clatter, and Mead managed to punch Freddy with his left fist hard enough to knock him sideways to the ground next to the couch. Landing on the floor, Freddy spit out a bloody hunk of meat from Mead's hand.
Mead looked at his bloody hand and said to Freddy, "Son of a bitch. That was a good job, kid...Wait..." Mead's eyes widened in shock and fear. From the floor Freddy fired both barrels of the shotgun he'd taken from under the couch by his side. Mead flew back and hit the wall, his chest a mess.
Sarah and Casey rushed to Mead's side. He reached out and put a hand on Sarah's arm. His voice was weak and wet as he said, "Sarah... take the apartment with Chuck. You two are so much in love. It's just great to …" Something in his chest gave way and a fresh wave of blood began to pour out of him. He looked down at himself and said, sounding disgusted, "Aw, shit." And he died.
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A/N2: There aren't actually any homes where I placed Freddy's cabin. That area near the Glory Hole is Putah Creek State Wildlife Area. I deliberately selected an area without human habitation so that none of the actual residents of the area who read Chuck fanfiction could write in to complain to me that I mischaracterized their neighborhood. Not that the actual residents won't complain, they just lack fingers to type their complaints.
A/N3: You'd be hard pressed to find Americans today who don't know of the terrible affliction of opioid addiction and the effect it's had on our nation. Duffy's is a real rehab center in Calistoga and was operating at the time this story is set.
A/N4: "Enfilade" is where the attacking force comes up to the edge of the defending force so that it can fire straight down the line at one after another of the defenders. Think of soldiers in a trench and the attacker straddling the trench and firing down its length.
A/N5: "Asni" is "Ass" as in a donkey in Icelandic. It is equivalent in usage to "moron".
A/N6: What do you guys think? Too much Tarantino and not enough Fedak/Schwartz? Leave a review and let me know.