The Independents, page 11
part #2 of Holding Their Own Series
It took Bishop several minutes to get his legs. He finally managed to stand, bracing himself against the steel tank. He was not a stranger to the sight of death and horror. Every time he believed he couldn’t see anything worse from his fellow man, he was proven wrong. After catching his breath and rinsing the foul taste from his mouth, his mood altered, quickly building into a boiling rage. He had come here to scout, gather information, and perhaps steal a vehicle and go back to the ranch. Now, he was consumed with wrath, and he wanted to kill these men. His heart, mind, and very soul wanted to walk down the path and deliver death to these sub-human scum. His common sense was being compromised by his anger, and he tried desperately to regain control. He kept visualizing those two women trying to cover the children with their bodies as the bullets were ripping through the house. They would have heard the agony of their men outside dying. The children would have been screaming and crying. Will someone ever do this to my child? He imagined the bedroom door being kicked in, and the gun barrel hovering over the threshold. He doubled his fist and punched the metal tank out of pure frustration.
The pain in his hand snapped him back to reality. As he flexed his now throbbing limb to verify he hadn’t broken any bones, an idea occurred to him. Perhaps it was providence he had come here; perhaps the ghosts inside of the home had guided him here for a reason. He would make sure these murderers would never harm another child. I hereby appoint myself judge, jury, and executioner. The sentence is death, Bishop resolved.
Terri slowly maneuvered the truck through the boulder field that cluttered the open end of their box canyon. She kept the speed very slow so as not to raise any dust. This really didn’t require much effort since the large rocks barely left enough room for the truck to pass anyway. Bishop had set up three tripwires along the route, and she had to stop and disable each one. Once she had passed by an early warning device, she again had to stop and rearm the wire.
This was only the second time she had been out of the canyon since they had arrived. The first time, Bishop and she had decided they needed a vacation before she got too pregnant to hike easily. So they had loaded up their packs and left for an extended food-gathering excursion.
That trip had been wonderful. Bishop remembered a secluded mountain waterfall on a neighboring property, and the two had set off to camp at the site for a few nights. When they had first arrived at the ranch, she had set about converting the camper from a seldom-used hunting retreat to a home. In one of the small storage nooks, she found a couple of yellowed old books. The subject matter of one was edible desert plants, and it had made a big difference in their lives. Terri had packed the book to take with them. While Bishop knew a lot about the land, he’d never been in a situation where he needed to live off of it. As they had hiked, Terri pulled out the book and referenced any unusual plants to determine their value. At that time, they still had supplies carried with them from Houston and gathered along the way. Both of them were beginning to realize those staples would not last forever. That trip had proven to them that they could survive off the natural resources of the ranch. Terri had gathered a small bag of seeds from a tree on the way back home. She had dried them and then ground them into flour. While it was only enough to make a few dumplings, it hadn’t tasted bad, and they had not gotten sick.
As Terri and David maneuvered toward the highway, she couldn’t help but make mental note of the plants she could remember from the book. Depending on what she found available at the Meraton market, she might be out here hunting and gathering soon.
Bishop returned to the house and kicked in the side door of the garage. He found the previous owner’s toolbox and was quite impressed with the man’s collection and organization. If the situation had been different, he might have considered borrowing a few of the tools to take back to the ranch. He located what he needed and returned to the yard.
Next to the picnic table was a small, half-full propane tank that supplied the barbeque grill. Bishop removed the tank and the brightly colored, plastic tablecloth. His final stop was a water spigot that had about 50 feet of garden hose attached. After Bishop removed the hose, he wound his way thru the pines, working his way ever closer to the hotel.
Terri stopped the truck as soon as she reached the paved highway. She checked with David that the Colonel was handling the bumpy ride okay, and he responded that his grandfather had only grimaced a few times. Even before the current economic disaster, traffic on the public road had been almost non-existent. Still, Terri double-checked to make sure there were no chance travelers observing their journey, grabbed her rifle and walked around the vehicle, clearing the tire tracks left from their passing.
After she had covered the evidence of their passing, she headed toward Meraton. She had not driven in months, but that didn’t seem to be a problem. The truck was running fine, and she had almost a full tank of fuel. What did bother her a little was how far back she had to move the driver’s seat. She was almost four months pregnant and thought she was only now beginning to show. The room required by her belly to fit behind the steering wheel made her question that thought. She hadn’t driven more than 20 minutes when she had to stop the truck, go behind a bush, and relieve herself. David, sitting in the back, decided to lighten the mood with a little humor. “How long will it take us if we have to stop every 20 minutes for you to pee?”
Terri delivered her best evil laugh, and then her voice became serious. “You would say that to a pregnant woman holding an M4 rifle, young man? Hmmm? Either you are not very bright or you have been talking to Bishop too much.” David still didn’t have a read on the hormone-driven woman navigating the truck and decided it was probably best to quietly pretend to busy himself with his grandpa. Terri let the teen suffer for about a minute before giving the kid a break. “Just kidding…you’ll have to tell Bishop that one. He will really think it’s funny.”
Bishop approached the backside of the hotel. It was easy to determine where the kitchen was located due to the big exhaust fans on the roof and the smelly dumpster close by. After checking that he was alone, he removed his pack, tying it to the canister of LP gas with one end of his para-cord. He then scooted the dumpster against the side of the building and climbed up. His perch on the dumpster was the perfect height; enabling him to jump, get a handhold, and pull himself up to the rooftop. He had not seen any sentries on the flat roof of the single story hotel while looking at it from the mountain above and hoped he hadn’t missed any guards who might have a view of the area. He would be trapped up here if discovered. He pulled the pack and LP tank up with the para-cord rope before taking a breather. It was only about two hours before dark and the timing of his actions was critical.
Bishop understood that Estebon was a highly intelligent man. And after stumbling upon the birthday party massacre, he further counted him as absolutely ruthless and without honor. Bishop’s evaluation of his adversary had figured prominently in his plan. He had two goals. The first was to get Samantha out into the open. While she was inside of the hotel, he had little chance of accomplishing anything other than getting them both killed. His second goal was transportation. There were over 80 miles of harsh, rugged terrain between Big Bend and the ranch. While he was confident he could make it, he wasn’t so sure about the young girl. He had no idea of her condition or capabilities. Given the girl’s key role in the scheme to retrieve Carmen and Isabella, Bishop didn’t believe Estebon would let Samantha get far from his sight. If Bishop could draw the captors into the open by forcing them to move the girl, he would create an opportunity to rescue her. Certainly, his chances of pulling this off were better than taking gold to Juarez. He needed a catalyst. He considered several different diversions, but worried Estebon would easily identify the ruse and perhaps even harm the girl.
Bishop waited until about an hour before the sun would slip behind the mountains to the west. During this time, he managed to get down some pine nuts and jerky. It wasn’t much, but his stomach was still not settled. He pulled the top off of the exhaust fan cover and peered inside. The tube was about ten inches in diameter and lined with a thick coating of grease, fat, and carbon. At the bottom, he could see the blades of a small fan spinning. Beyond the fan, he could see what appeared to be a gas burner on a stovetop.
Bishop listened for any sound coming from the tube. He knew that as the hour grew late, the chances of activity in the kitchen increased. His last glance at the front of the hotel had shown the children were still outside playing a game of tag. Several adults relaxed on the porch and the lawn, enjoying the splendor of the setting west Texas sun. He still didn’t see Estebon or the girl.
Bishop slowly lowered one end of the garden hose down the exhaust pipe until a ticking noise indicated it had reached the fan blade. He fed another few inches down the tube until the end of the hose jammed the fan. He paused, listening for any sign that the sound had been noticed, before he cut the garden hose so that it was just long enough to reach the propane tank sitting beside him on the roof.
Bishop double-checked that the valve was closed and then proceeded to unscrew the snap-on safety connector used by all outdoor grills. Once the connector was removed, he took a small hose clamp, scavenged from the Ranger’s garage, and secured the end of the garden hose as tightly as possible. The propane was stored at about 175 pounds of pressure. He knew the hose was rated at about 50 pounds max and hoped it would hold long enough for the tank to empty. Propane is heavier than air, but dissipates quickly. Bishop wanted a nice cloud of the explosive gas covering the kitchen floor below. Hopefully, a pilot light would do the trick, but he was ready even if it didn’t explode on its own. Little by little, he loosened the valve and released the volatile gas into the hotel’s kitchen.
Bishop had no idea how long it would take to empty the tank or for it to ignite. He moved quickly away from the exhaust chimney to the other side of the roof, keeping his profile very low. He checked his watch, opting to give the gas exactly one minute to ignite. If there were no blast within the next 60 seconds, he would go back and “help it along.”
It took about 30 seconds for the half-filled tank to empty, releasing a cloud of explosive vapor that spread across the kitchen floor. Somehow, the sinking gas missed the pilot light on the gas stove. It was one of Estebon’s men who pushed open the swinging kitchen door that caused the gas to ignite. The motion of the door being pushed open fanned a wave of the gas toward the pilot flame on the kitchen’s hot water heater.
Bishop expected a loud blast and a fire. He was completely taken by surprise when the roof of the kitchen buckled upwards and the entire hotel shook underneath him. The noise of the explosion was followed almost immediately by the hotel’s fire alarm. Bishop started making his way to the front of the building.
Estebon had been deep asleep when the explosion occurred. He awoke with a start and bolted upright in his bed. Disoriented, he initially thought he was back in Colombia and under attack. It was the claxon of the fire alarm that caused him to snap back to reality. He was reaching for his pants when the sprinkler system came on. It sputtered, ran for a few seconds, and then sputtered again. With only the solar backup system there wasn’t enough water pressure to make a difference.
Bishop was peeking over the roofline of the hotel’s entrance. Confused people poured out the front door. He watched carefully for the Colonel’s granddaughter or Estebon to exit, but so far, he couldn’t pick them out of the crowd.
Estebon threw open the door to his room only to be met with a hallway full of smoke and two of his guards breathing thru handkerchiefs over their faces. His first reaction was to reach for his pistol because he thought the masked men were there to kill him. Once he realized who they were, he barked an order for them to get everyone out of the hotel. He pushed the evacuees out of his way, as he headed down the hallway, toward the sentry outside the hostage’s room. “Get her out, and take her to the Hummer,” he commanded. The guard nodded and opened the door to retrieve the girl, who was now struggling to catch her breath. Estebon continued running for the front door.
Bishop watched as people continued to pour out of the burning building. He headed back toward the kitchen area, carefully avoiding the weakened roof. He slipped over the edge, jumped down onto the dumpster and then dropped to the ground. After checking to make sure he hadn’t been noticed, he began pushing the heavy trash container toward the front of the hotel.
The Hummer was parked in the handicapped spot closest to the lobby. Estebon exited the main entrance to the lodge, and immediately three of his men rushed over for orders. His first response was not an order, but a question. “Are we under attack? What is going on?”
“There was an explosion in the kitchen. Other than that, we’ve seen no sign of any attack,” a guard responded. Estebon scoured the surrounding area, looking for clues about the cause of the explosion, when his hostage, followed by the coughing guard, reached the driveway. He motioned for the guard to get Samantha into the Hummer and for another of his men to follow. Estebon turned back to the hotel, and like everyone else, was mesmerized by the spreading fire - the flames now clearly visible through the windows. No one noticed the large steel dumpster sluggishly roll around the corner.
Bishop knew the parking lot slanted downward and away from the hotel. He gave the dumpster one last good shove. The thing was three times as heavy as normal because it was “bear proof.” The walls, hinges, and doors were all heavy, thick steel and the wheels were oversized to allow movement and emptying. Bishop walked along behind the rolling shield as gravity steered it directly at the parked Hummer.
Estebon saw the dumpster rolling toward his position and didn’t know what to make of it. He motioned for one of his men, but no words came out of his mouth. He turned to look for the hostage and saw the guard unlocking the Hummer door with the girl in tow.
It suddenly became clear to Estebon something was wrong. A warning was rising in this throat, when Bishop popped around the corner of the dumpster and began firing.
While he was outnumbered 30 to 1, Bishop had the element of surprise and the distraction of the fire. He placed the red dot of his riflescope on the chest of the guard opening the Hummer door and fired twice. Before the empty shell cases had even hit the ground, he pivoted and fired at the man next to Estebon who was trying to raise his MP5 sub-machine gun. The dumpster came to rest against the front fender of the Hummer, and Bishop swept up the young girl and threw her inside with the smelly trash. He pulled the keys from the dead guard’s hands and stuffed them in his dump pouch.
The already anxious crowd gathered outside the hotel turned into a scrambling, screaming mob almost instantly. Most of the men were armed only with pistols and Bishop ignored them. Automatic fire pinged off the dumpster as Bishop took cover behind it. Sparks flew as the Colombian’s shots ricocheted off of the heavy, steel trash container. Mothers who had been merely panicked over missing children in the fire escalated to desperation with the increasing gunfire. Two screaming women sprinted directly in the line of fire being aimed at Bishop. The shooter instinctively raised his weapon in order to avoid spraying the women. Bishop killed the man before he could bring his barrel back down to aim again. That shot prompted the rest of the Colombians to realize they were completely exposed. The hotel had been their headquarters, their bunker, and a burning building could not shield them. As two of the men looked for cover, Bishop appeared over the top of the dumpster and took them both out of the fight.
It was only a short time before the advantage of surprise expired, and Estebon’s men started to regroup. Bishop did his best to ensure they did so under the worst of circumstances. Estebon had somehow managed to run and take refuge behind the large stone pillars supporting the awning at the front of the hotel. Bishop saw the man snap around the pillar and fire two shots with his pistol. A hail of 5.56 NATO bullets tore into the limestone pillars. Dust, shards of stone and bits of rock were flying all around Estebon’s hiding spot. It seemed as though Bishop intended to saw through the pillar using his bullets as a blade.
Bishop wanted the man badly, and it was almost his undoing. His focus on the boss allowed two of the guards to move into a flanking position, hoping to catch Bishop from behind. Bishop was saved by his rifle locking back empty. When he reached for a full magazine, the movement of the two men caught his eye. Bishop slammed the full magazine into his rifle, slapped the release, and shot the two men on the run.
Seeing that Bishop was distracted, Estebon ran, zigzagging in retreat, around the corner of the hotel.
Only light, random fire was now coming in Bishop’s direction. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Estebon reorganized his forces and came back at him. Bishop reached into the dumpster, pulled the shaking girl out by the shirt, and literally threw her into the backseat of the Hummer screaming; “Stay on the floor!” as he slammed the door. He pulled the keys out of his pouch and ran to the driver’s side, randomly shooting at anything that moved. He threw his rifle into the front passenger seat and pulled his pistol. He managed to get the keys into the ignition and start the motor when Estebon and five of his men rounded the corner of the hotel.
