Freedy and I kept up the charade for the next half hour or so, every ten minutes of so shouting out some nonsense. It was great fun.
"SNIPERS, DON'T FIRE UNTIL YOU'RE GIVEN THE SIGNAL!" I shouted, in my best bass voice, using my makeshift bullhorn fashioned out of a Field and Stream magazine.
I ran twenty yards to the east as fast as I could and answered myself in a reedy tenor.
"Yes, Sir!"
I was impressed. Freedy had spunk. I mean, I'd selected him for the mission, but I gotta admit I was surprised by his initiative and imagination. I'd been off in the trees doing nature's business when I heard the home invasion. I started creeping toward the house, but it was difficult to be silent in the heavy undergrowth in the dark. So Freedy apparently beat me to it.
What I would have done, I don't know. I'm pretty handy with my cane, especially the hidden sword inside, but taking out three guys would have been difficult.
I listened to Freedy's inspired bluff with amazement. It was ridiculous, of course. Sounded utterly phony to my ears -- and yet, there was just enough urgency to the whole situation as to create doubt. The guys inside probably knew they were being conned, but they couldn't quite be sure.
It was the sirens, I decided. I wished Freedy would leave the bell out -- that sounded completely incongruous. But that siren sealed the deal.
I remembered the magazine I'd stuck in my back pocket to use for my outdoor -- necessities -- and rolled it up into a bullhorn. I had a hell of voice, when I wanted. Too many nights in a karaoke bar, maybe.
"CAPTAIN?" I shouted. "SHALL I TAKE THEM OUT?"
"NO! HOLD TO PROPER PROCEDURES. THE NEGOTIATOR HAS TURNED ONTO THE DRIVEWAY."
Oh, oh. Freedy probably shouldn't have promised that. But not three seconds later, I too saw the headlights approaching.
I was close to the road, so I shouted one more time, "WE'LL STAY IN POSITION!" then left my position and hurried toward the headlights. Charlie was just getting out of the van when I arrived.
Freedy quickly explained the situation, and I let him. Excited, leaving out a few things, but more or less getting it right.
"Alex and his brothers, huh?" Charlie said. "Ungrateful bastards."
'What are you going to do?" Freedy asked, looking uttering relieved that someone else was taking over.
"They're expecting a hostage negotiator, so I'll give them a hostage negotiator."
Charlie marched to the back of the van threw open the backdoor. Garland saw the metal gleam of long black metal and the soft shine of dark wood. Charlie seemed to hesitate for a second, like a kid in a toy store, then picked out the biggest weapon there -- a huge rifle with an enormous ammunition clip.
He picked up, quickly checked the clip and slammed it into place with a military thunk, and turned toward the house.
"Hey, Alex!" he shouted.
"Charlie? Damn it, I knew it! I've got your buddies in here, so don't try anything."
"I hear you want to negotiate?" Charlie shouted. "Here are my terms!" He lowered the huge gun, looking half as big as he was, and started firing rounds toward the dirt at the base of the house. He misjudged the recoil and a some bullets started hitting the concrete of the foundation.
The silence afterwards was deafening -- or maybe I really was deaf from roar of the explosive percussions. Everyone held their breath -- and I didn't need to be witness to know it. The entire world was holding its breath.
"My terms are these!. You let my guys go and you get out here right now or I blow your heads off!"
He shot the rest of the clip in a circle around the house.
"You'll kill us!"
Charlie fell silent. Here's the thing about Charlie -- he doesn't lie -- ever. Now, he might murder the S.o.b.'s but he wouldn't reassure them first. So I wondered what his response was going to be.
"Unlike you, Alex, I don't hurt people except in self-defense. I promise you, I'm not going to kill you."
Alex probably knew Charlie's character, too. But it still took a few moments for him to decide to give up. He was probably remembering his own caveat: not killing doesn't mean not hurting.
"All right! All right! We're coming out!"
"Throw your weapons out first!"
The deck light came on and the side door opened. "Don't shoot, we're coming!" A revolver and a machete and a bowie knife -- which had been hastily wiped but the color red could still be seen in the dim light --clunked out onto the deck.
They came out with their hands over their heads -- first the younger one, as if for cannon fodder, then the older one, and last was Alex.
Charlie slapped another clip into the place and ratcheted it home with a sharp click. We approached the house at a quick walk -- me with my long strides, Charlie pumping his little muscular legs, and Freedy having to do a little half skip every few yards to catch up.
Charlie handed the huge rifle to Freedy, who looked as though he'd been handed a venomous snake. Still, guns have a kind of intuitive feel to them and fairly quickly the round little guy put his hands in the right places and pointed the firearm in the right directions.
I walked straight passed the clump of antagonists and hurried into the house. Four of the miners were still hogtied, though spread out throughout the living room as though they'd been doing contortions to get out of their restraints. Billy was loose, somehow, his wrists were bleeding from the chafing. He was holding a damp cloth to his brother's cheek. He looked around at me and there was dismay in his face. Bob's eyes were closed and he was moaning but he was breathing steady.
I pulled the blade from my cane, and sliced the ropes tying the others. "There's a first aid kid in the glovebox of the van," I said to Jay, when he was free.
Jay quickly came back, and with Billy, started administering to Bob. I checked the wound real quick to make sure it wasn't life threatening. No, there would chunks of Bob's face missing, but he'd survive.
Steve and Sam and Jim stumbled about the living room for a few moments, getting their landlegs again, drinking from the faucet and otherwise cursing in a magnificent symphony of raunch.
When we finally emerged from the house, Charlie had herded the invaders to the backdeck, where they were lined up against the railing. Freedy still had the gun trained on them, looking much more confident -- smug almost -- in his handling of the giant weapon.
I re-sheathed my sword into my cane, and walked to Charlie's side, took one look at his face, and said,
"You promised not to shoot them."
1 comment:
[Charlie seemed to hesitate for a second, like a kid in a toy story] toy store
[The silence afterwards was deafening -- or maybe I really was deaf from roar of the explosive percussions. Everyone held their breath -- and I didn't need to be witness to know it. The entire world was holding its breath.] :)
Post a Comment