**Love Without Mercy, Lee Roy Parnell**

Five minutes later Debbie and Timmy were in the air. She gasped and clutched her shoulder straps as the ground fell away beneath her feet. Up above the trees, the sky seemed lighter but the shadows below were long and deep. She knew they needed to hurry, but for a moment she just drank in the sight. For almost 20 years she had wondered why her husband was so captivated by his work. Now, she was beginning to understand just how heady the combination of adrenaline, adventure, and intrigue could really be. They rose up over deep green pines dusted with a few inches of snow and even though she knew there was a real threat below, for a moment the world looked peaceful. As they moved southeast, skimming along at about 200 feet, she noticed that for a closed base, there were an awful lot of footprints and tiremarks. She began to get a bad feeling in his stomach as the tire marks turned into muddy ruts.

"Are those what I think they are?" She called over his crackly headset.

"Unfortunately yes." Timmy replied, his voice tight. "Looks like at least five heavy vehicles passed through here. There's a road that cuts back to the highway not too far to the south, but it forks and also emerges about a mile north of here too, so I can't say for sure where they will be along the highway." He turned the helo toward the south.

"Well that rules out plans A and B." Debbie sighed. She'd been so hopeful they could do this without any bloodshed. "What kind of armored vehicles did they have here on base? We need to figure out the firing ranges."

Sitting at the controls in front of her, Timmy nodded, the bright yellow of his protective ear muffs glowing in the narrow cockpit's lights. "They had mostly MIA2's with the M68 guns out here, so I'd say nothing too accurate over about 1500 meters. But of course there's the machine guns too. There might have been a few Stryker's bumming around, but they were mostly training on the Abrams."

All that didn't mean much to her and she felt the first crack in her confidence. "1500 meters is like a mile, right?"

"Yes Ma'am. If we can stop then before the President's group gets within a mike we should be good."

They came over a hill by the highway and Debbie swore at the same time she heard Timmy's expletive echo in her headset. She could see the roadcut for the highway in the distance. It looked like there was some kind of road block set up at the edge of the federal area, but the terrain between was heavily treed and the tracks they were following disappeared from view beneath the dark canopy. What really had her worried was the fact that a convoy of 7 or 8 cars was stopped, facing the roadblock. there were probably twenty cars and trucks pulled off the road to the south of the roadblock and a mass of people holding weapons stood waiting. Her map showed the fork Timmy had mentioned but they couldn't see it through the cover of the trees. If there were five or more armored vehicles, they could easily have split to surround the President from North and South.

She fired off a quick message to Vince. "Plans A and B are out. Sector 3, heading U situation is critical. Sector 4, headings R and L also critical." He had divided up the map so that there was only one identified road in each sector and redefined the compass rose as up, down, left, and right. It wasn't a foolproof code by any means, but it would at least let them attempt to talk over an open channel.

"We read you Liza Jane. Let us know how to proceed once you have a chance to assess." Debbie's hands shook as she looked at her notes. It had seemed so clear and simple when Vince had told her what to look for earlier. But now when she could barley see the ground and so much seemed to be at stake, it felt overwhelming. As they swooped once over the highway, she made a quick count of people and positions. The militia had set up a traffic funnel with construction barriers but fortunately the President's group had stopped before entering. As they approached, two men who looked like they were cautiously walking forward from the line of cars, took cover under the trees. She wished she could just roll down the window and warn them to turn back. What if one of them was Danny? She clicked on her speaker.

"No!" Timmy's voice exploded in her ear.

Heart pounding, she closed the comm. "What? I was just going to tell Vince what they were doing."

"I know, but that will alert the militia too."

A hot flush of shame flooded her face. "Oh my God! Oh my God I can't do this. Kara will never forgive me if I screw it up."

As he turned the helo, Timmy turned his head as far as he could in his headgear. "You're doing great Mrs. Foster. We are going to save them. Just give him the letter." She felt foolish for needing so much reassurance but really, had she ever imagined herself doing this? She, a farm wife from Kansas in a helicopter trying to keep the President of the United States safe? Well, wouldn't her boys be surprised when she joined them in heaven. The first of three hulking armored vehicles rolled out of the treeline and with a sinking stomach, she knew what she'd have to tell Vince. The President's convoy was already too close.

"Plan D. Conditions warrant plan D."

Vince sounded rueful when he replied. "Damn, I was afraid you'd say that."

They were almost over the trees again when she saw a bright flare come up on one side. Timmy jerked the steering controls and they dipped sharply to one side in an evasive maneuver. "Well hells bells, they got someone down there that knows what they're doing."

How could he be so calm, she wondered. "Is this bad? What am I saying? They are firing on us. Of course this is bad!" Debbie's pulse beat like a trapped bird in her throat. She pressed her hands against the windows on either side to steady herself even though her harness held her in.

Timmy pressed a button and some kind of flares shot off the side. For a moment there was a confusing mix of smoky trails criss crossing the sunset sky around them. They rose up and then swooped from side to side. "Hang on Mrs. Foster. This will be over soon. They might think they have the numbers but we've got real experience on our side." She wasn't sure if he was reassuring her or himself, but she was grateful all the same.

Hang on was right. There was a ding and she knew something must have hit them. Timmy went on like it didn't matter "Damn pea shooters!". Her stomach lurched as he twirled the helo about and she lost track of north and south. "We'll just make a few loops around here a few feet above their ceiling and hopefully distract everyone enough to buy Vince and Peter some time."

He brought them up slightly higher before passing back over the armored vehicles. It was getting darker by the second but Debbie swore she saw two figures dart out of the woods toward the hulking tank like shapes and she was sure that the large black SUV in the middle of the President's convoy had a man on the roof and four more surrounding it. She crossed her fingers and said a silent prayer that Peter and Vince weren't caught. When Vince had explained that the training missles on the helo needed a thermal target, she'd thought all was lost. Then he'd revealed his plan to rip apart the heat packs from their stock of MREs to get a thermite reaction started with the metal on the armored vehicles. She had no idea what any of that meant, but she hoped to hell they could pull it off.

"Don't we have a gun or something we can use to protect them while they get in there?" She asked hopefully.

"If we have to, yes we do have a kick-ass 50 cal. But it's not very accurate unless we get down real low and it would put Vince and Peter, not to mention any of the President's escort, in danger. Our best bet for stopping these guys is destroying their big guns and then running."

She watched helplessly as one of the two men snuck around the back of a tank. The other, it must have been Vince, stood guard. The helo turned and she lost sight for a moment. The next time they passed back around, the men were gone. She scanned the treeline but she didn't see anything to indicate where Vince and Peter had gone or where the two men from the President's group had gone either. Fear gripped her. "Hurry, hurry." She chanted to herself.

She saw a small party of 12 or so militia begin to make their way down the narrowed channel that they had setup to trap the President's convoy. It was getting so dark that all she could really make out was a set of dark blobs detaching from the larger mass. She hoped they were going to talk, not attack. "It's getting too dark! We won't be able to aim!"

"That's the beauty of infrared. Hit the switch on your right side control panel with the funny picture of the sideways triangle with the letters IR on it." She reached one shaky hand forward and did as he said. The glowing screen in front of her changed from a camera view to strange yellow, orange, and red blobs. One corner of the screen was glowing white.

"See that white area?" He asked as he swung the helo around to they were headed straight for it.

"Yeah." She looked over his head and out the windshield to see what it was but the screen had ruined her night vision. "Goodbye tank number one." He flicked a lever and a beeping sensor alarm filled the cockpit. She felt the helo rock in response to the missile launch almost before she registered that he's pressed another button. There was a bright orange fireball and a rush of sound over the chop chop of the rotors. In the bright glow she saw men diving for cover and running.

"Yes!" Timmy cheered. He rapidly fired on the other two armored vehicles, pumping his fist in the air as he did. Debbie squinted against the black smoke and flames, searching the men below for Vince and Peter, but she didn't see them.

"I'm taking us lower. They are too busy sorting themselves out to take shots at us now." Timmy informed her. She stared at his bald spot, a little shell shocked, to tell the truth. she had just seen what she was sure was a man writhing in flaming agony. A few others just lay unmoving on the ground.

She didn't have time to reflect on that though as a small boom sounded to one side of them. She looked down just in time to see the SUV at the center of the President's convoy go up in flames. "No!" Her shout echoed off the glass of the small cockpit.

"God dammit, these fools don't know when to quit." Timmy swung them around and dove for the ground. A flare zinged past her window but he ignored it as he unleashed the chain gun on the two vehicles that had trapped the President from the North. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the pain and suffering they were probably causing. "That will teach them." Timmy swung the helo about and made a second pass on the group to the south.

The President's cars were rapidly turning around, taking advantage of the chance to escape. Debbie felt her first surge of triumph as they blasted through the thin line of militia remaining to the north and escaped into clear open road. Without their big guns, the militia had no ability to stop them now. But there was no question a car had been lost. A memory of calling Kara to tell her that Eric had been killed in action came to her on a wave of uncertain grief. She wasn't sure their relationship would survive if Danny was gone.

She scanned the treeline for Vince and Peter but didn't see them. Many of the militia had fled into the woods or back down the road another way. "While I'm not usually a fan of destroying government property, I think we ought to incapacitate everything they've got left." Timmy swung them around for a final pass, blowing the charred carcases of the armored vehicles to bits.

She flicked on her radio. "Heading to sector 7 U to intercept the President's group." When there was no response her worry began to grow. "Vince?"

A new voice came on the radio. "Debbie?" She gasped at Danny's voice. At least she thought it was Danny. "You better get down here. Sector R, heading R." Was all he said.

Timmy landed the helo about a 1/2 mile south of the face off. By that time, the sheriff had arrived with a team and was checking the fallen militia men for survivors and confiscating weapons. She fumbled with her buckles as she saw Danny running, somewhat lopsided, toward her. "You need to come, now!" He practically lifted her right out of her seat and they set off at a run, heedless of the fact that there were still occasional gunshots in the woods beside the road. Her legs felt numb and useless and she knew he had to slow his pace for her but she didn't dare stop. He led her to the back of a pickup, riddled with bullet holes.

As she rounded the side she took in the booted foot, hanging off the tailgate, the concerned faces of Navy people, most of whom she did not recognize, and Vince, sitting in the bed with a streak of blood across his cheek. Alisha Granderson was holding Peter's hand over the side of the truck. "I'm so, so very sorry Mrs. Foster."

His breathing was labored but his eyes were open so she clambered up into the truck bed. "Peter, Peter, oh Peter I am so sorry I dragged you into this." She elbowed Vince out of the way to get close. "What can we do? What does he need?" She looked to Alisha and then Danny. Why weren't they doing anything? She looked him over but she couldn't tell what the injury was. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing to do I'm afraid." He wheezed.

Alisha patted his hand. "Don't try to talk, save your breath Peter." Then she turned to Debbie. "He's got hit by a car as the militia started to flee. There's several broken ribs and I think he might have punctured a lung, maybe he's got internal bleeding."

He squeezed her hand. "Now don't go blaming yourself dear. Now I get to die knowing the good guys won."

She searched the group, wild eyed, hoping someone would argue with him and say he wasn't going to die, but no one did. "The hospital?" She asked hopefully.

"Over 2 hours away." Vince supplied grimly.

So they sat in the cold February morning, holding hands and waiting. She tried not to cry but nothing she could do would control it. Big wet tears rolled down her cheeks one after another. Vince and Danny stepped off to the side to discuss logistics. Alisha stepped away only to return with blankets for her and Peter. "I'll be over here if you need me." She said softly. Debbie didn't know what to do. She'd never comforted someone through the transition to death before. She hadn't been there for her husband or her sons. Both her parents had died suddenly.

She swiped at her tears. "What do I do Peter?"

"Stay with me, please? I've never done this before and I'm a little nervous." He tried to smile but it only made her cry harder. He coughed, and a dollop of red foam collected in the corner of his lips. "Just be here with me. You never know, you know?"

She nodded, swiping at her tears. "I won't go anywhere."

Vince and Danny continued to talk, glancing their way every few seconds. They appeared to be arguing about something. All she caught was her son-in-law saying "Just a minute. We can at least give them that much."

Vince shook his head. "Look, I know it's your call, but we've got to move. Those guys aren't all pros but they seemed to know enough to have a rally point. And there's plenty of firepower left for the taking. We need to put some miles between us. Unless you want to split forces and run a cleanup operation?"

Lieutenant Granderson shuddered and Debbie surmised that Vince was referring to total obliteration of enemy forces by hunting them down 1 at a time.

Danny called Simpson-Slattery over. "Sargeant, take your team plus Miller and destroy any ordinance you can find in the next 2 hours. Send someone back up with Chief Darnel." His words were punctuated by a trio of shots behind him.

"Good eye Baby Bird" Lieutenant Burk called out to Miller, who had been guarding their northern edge. "Are we moving Sir?"

Debbie looked at Peter's ashen face and knew it wasn't going to matter if they moved him or not. "If we need to go, we go. As long as I can stay here with Peter."

Danny reached over the side of the truck and clasped his hand. "You saved the President, Peter. You are a hero."

Peter's eyes stayed closed but his lips moved slowly. "Didn't do it for the President." He paused and gasped for breath. "Did it for our girl."

Danny pressed his lips together. "Thank you."

Debbie could see the triangle of moisture at the corner of his eye reflecting in the tail lights. Kara really had found a good one. "Just don't make it all for waste. Let's get out of here." She arranged the blankets Granderson had provided while men and women retreated from guard positions and started the convoy. Then she lay down beside Peter and told him all about the commitment she was making to her future, to Kara, and her grandchild. By the time they began to descend the next hill, his heart had stopped beating beneath her ear.