Escaping Vegas Read online

Ivan had already decided that sooner or later they would probably need to move on to a larger city - maybe Los Angeles. Things were getting stagnant here. There would be more people in L.A. – more women. But getting there wouldn’t be easy.

  His lead mechanic was having some luck getting an old Volkswagen engine to run. If he could get something larger to run maybe they could all drive to LA. Maybe even the air conditioning would work.

  Ivan really missed air conditioning.

  Chapter 86: Nope, I’m good

  Jake’s plan to follow the two convicts was simple. He and Jacob would begin following them once they dropped over a hill. Then Jake and Jacob would ride up behind them and watch them from behind that same hill until the convicts went over the next hill. They would repeat the procedure until they were sure the men had traveled ten full miles toward Vegas. Unfortunately, Ralphy and Squeaky hadn’t gone a mile when they suddenly pulled over to the side of the road and hid behind a rocky outcropping. Jake and Jacob stayed in their original position in Baker, keeping a close watch on the men with Jake’s SmartScope.

  “What are they doing?” asked Jacob.

  “Not sure just yet,” said Jake.

  It was still dark, about 5:00 am when Jake finally called Mark.

  “Mark? You there?” whispered Jake into the hissing radio.

  Mark and Randy were still outside the house on the front porch. Neither couldn’t sleep and decided to sit outside and watch the sun rise. Mark quickly picked up the radio.

  “I’m here,” said Mark. “What’s up?”

  “Our boys stopped about a mile down the road. They’re on the South side of the road hiding behind some rocks,” said Jake. “They’re in a position to look back at the entire town of Baker. Every once and a while one of them looks over the rocks. That’s all they are doing for now.”

  “Probably waiting to see which way we plan to go,” said Mark.

  “Maybe there a little smarter than we thought,” offered Randy.

  “Keep an eye on um,” ordered Mark, through the radio. “We’ll get the team up in about 30 minutes,” he added, as he squinted at his watch. “Look for us to leave around 6:30 am. We’ll take the group up highway 127 until I’m sure we’re out of the convict’s view. We’ll pull over then and wait to hear from you. They should head out for Vegas as soon as they’re sure we’re traveling up 127. Call us when they start riding again.”

  “Roger that,” said Jake.

  Jacob was close enough to hear the conversation. Jake looked over at the teenager.

  “Any questions,” asked Jake.

  “Nope, I’m good,” answered Jacob.

  A few seconds went by.

  “Can I take a turn watching through the SmartScope?” asked Jacob.

  The more Jake got to know Jacob the more liked the kid. And he trusted him. Jake handed him his rifle and turned over on his back. Then he placed his arms across his chest.

  “You got your watch?” asked Jake.

  Earlier in the day Jake and found a watch that was undamaged and gave it to Jacob when he told the boy he was chosen to accompany him on the reconnaissance mission.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Wake me in 30 minutes or if the men move,” said Jake, as he closed his eyes.

  “10-4,” replied Jacob.

  Jake seemed to fall asleep almost instantly.

  “No way I could sleep,” thought the boy. “This is way too cool.”

  Chapter 87: Take the bait

  It was amazing how much detail Squeaky could see from the desert gulch he and Ralphy hid behind. They positioned themselves behind a hard rocky hill on the South side of the freeway. Their bikes were hidden from view. They were just on the other side of a long grade of I-15 that pointed back to Las Vegas. They had a good view of the town of Baker and could see both off ramps. The sun was starting to come up and Ralphy was keeping a careful watch on the town. Nothing was moving. With every passing minute the desert grew brighter.

  “What do you think Ivan will do when we tell him about them nine women?” asked Squeaky, as he picked up another desert rock and flicked it back down into the gulch below him.

  “Who knows,” said Ralphy. “Ivan can be unpredictable.”

  “I think he’ll reward us some,” said Squeaky.

  “Why’s that?” asked Ralphy.

  “Cause we brought him nine times more women than he asked us to find is why,” countered Squeaky.

  “Think he’ll give you some special time with some of the ladies?” questioned Ralphy.

  “I’m countin on it,” replied Squeaky. “It’ll be our reward.”

  “I wouldn’t get your hopes up too much boy,” observed Ralphy. “I’m just hoping we get back to our soft beds in one piece. This campin out under the stars stuff is for the birds.

  Just then Ralphy spotted a column of bike riders leave the I-15 freeway and start up highway 127 to the North of their position.

  “There they go,” said Ralphy.

  Squeaky scrambled up and watched too.

  “Yep,” they’re they go,” added Squeaky.

  The two ex-convicts watched the bike riders ride up the grade for about 10 minutes, until they passed behind a hill and out of view.

  “Good enough,” said Ralphy as he stood up and began walking toward his high mileage Wal-Mart mountain bike. “Time we high tail it for Vegas.”

  Squeaky jumped up and followed in Ralphy’s footsteps. They picked up their bikes and lifted their heavy backpacks up on to their shoulders. They balanced their rifles across the handlebars.

  “We got a long way to go,” said Ralphy. “But the sooner we get back the better the chance Ivan will have of catching ‘um before they get too far North.

  “Yep,” agreed Squeaky. “Better get going.”

  So, the two convicts pushed off and began their long ride back to Vegas.

  Jake and Jacob watched the two men until they disappeared over the road’s horizon. Then Jake pulled out the radio.

  “Mark this is Jake, over.”

  Mark and the main group were sitting on the shoulder of Highway 127 behind a large hill. He’d been waiting for Jake’s call.

  “Yea Jake,” said Mark.

  “They just left going North again,” said Jake. “Definitely on their way to Vegas.”

  “Good,” replied Mark. “Remember keep track of them, but don’t give yourself away. We’ll follow along behind – may three, four miles back of you.”

  “Roger that, and out,” replied Jake.

  Jake and Jacob got up and headed for their bikes.

  “You did good,” said Jake.

  “Thank you, sir,” replied Jacob.

  “Now the hard part,” added Jake.

  Behind the larger hill Mark gathered the main group around him to explain what lay ahead.

  “Looks like our convict boys took the bait,” said Mark. “Jake and Jacob will ride well head of our group for the next two days. They’ll keep tabs on our friends and make sure we don’t accidently roll up on them.”

  “You still sure Las Vegas is the best route?” asked Sylvia.

  “I’m confident our Vegas plan will work,” responded Mark. “Unfortunately, the only other road going North is highway 127. But our chances of making it that way are too remote – not enough towns and way too many miles of open desert. Our best and only bet is through Vegas. We’re just going to have to be a little creative,” added Mark. “Each of you must understand that it’s going to be difficult to get through Vegas safely. We are going to have to ride long and hard days. We’ll be sleeping in tents for about four nights in a row.”

  That got some groans.

  “Listen people,” barked Mark, wanting to make a point. “Everything we’ve done so far has been practice compared to what will happen over the next week. We need to pull together and watch out for each other. Finding a safe way through Vegas will undoubtedly be dangerous. Timing will be critical, especially when we’re close to the city. When an order is given, I ex
pect all of you to obey it without question, is that clear?”

  “Yes sir,” replied the group. It was the best unified response they had ever given Mark.

  “I know the journey has been hard, and we’ve lost some good people,” added Mark. “Let’s dedicate our next push to the memory of all those we’ve left behind.”

  “Hoora,” shouted Throne, thinking of his dead wife and kids in Kansas City.

  “Hoora,” shouted back the group.

  Chapter 88: Screaming Peters

  Ralphy and Squeaky were riding their mountain bikes as fast as they could. During the first hour they’d pushed it a little too hard and realized they needed to slow their pace. They stopped around noon and ate some of the food they brought with them. Ralphy realized that in his haste to get going he didn’t pack much food. What they had would have to last until they got to the town of Jean. They already knew there wasn’t anything left in Nipton. The good news was they had plenty of water. Ralphy was sitting in the shade.

  “We’ll be lucky to make it to Nipton in two days,” said Ralphy. “Then one more very long day back into Vegas.”

  “Two more nights on the road,” added Squeaky. “Then we get some vacation.”

  “We need to report to Ivan right away. He’ll want to organize a group to go after the women,” said Ralphy. “They’ll need bikes and supplies for a lot of men. Not sure where there gonna find enough bikes.”

  “Sporting goods stores might have better bikes than these things,” said Squeaky as he poured a little water into his greasy hand. Then he rubbed the water across his balding head hoping to cool off a bit. “Seemed the bikes those guys rode were lots better than ours.”

  “Yea,” replied Ralphy. “I noticed that too. They could probably ride a lot farther in day than we could.”

  “Maybe,” said Squeaky. “But they got women with um, and that one guy said something about kids. If they’re haulin kids, they won’t be travelin too fast, will they?”

  “Probably not,” responded Ralphy. “All I know is we can’t go any faster and we can’t drive at night neither. There’s too much glass on the road. If we start ridin at night we’d be stopping every fifty feet to repair flats in the dark.”

  Jacob and Jake were also to the side of the road, but they were well hidden and watching Squeaky and Ralphy take their noon lunch break. They were about three miles back looking down a long straight stretch of I-15 highway. The road dipped down across the long expanse of bleak desert terrain and then slowly rose again. Ralphy and Squeaky were about half way down the stretch, sitting against the center divider wall across a small bridge. Jacob watched the two convicts with his SmartScope while Jake ate his lunch.

  “You think they’ll stay their long,” asked Jacob.

  “Probably not,” replied Jake. “Mark thinks they will ride as fast as they can back to Vegas hoping to warn their gang about our phantom group traveling North on Highway 127.”

  “So far Mark’s been right about what they’d do,” added Jacob. “He’s pretty smart.”

  “Smartest officer I ever served with,” said Jake, as reached for a water bottle and took a long hit. “He was regarded as the best military strategist in Southern Afghanistan when I was there. And he’s got a sixth sense when it comes to tactical operations.”

  “What’s tactical operations?” asked Jacob.

  “Ever heard the term, an army marches on its stomach?” asked Jake.

  “Nope,” said Jacob.

  “Napoleon made it famous back in the early 1800s,” offered Jake. “It means an army is only as good as the food in its stomachs and the support systems that make it tick.”

  “And Major Harris is good at that,” added Jacob.

  “The best,” said Jake, suddenly recalling a good story. “When we were stationed in Kandahar our commanding general was sent home because of a heart attack. This new general comes in, named Peters, and decides to make a name for himself. This was to be a temporary assignment for him because he hadn’t had much combat experience yet. Six days after he gets there General Peters calls a meeting with the other commanding officers in Kandahar and starts barking out orders on how he has a fool proof plan to expand our outer ring of defenses up and into the Western mountains.”

  Jake bit off some jerky, chewed it a while, and then turned to Jacob.

  “Our boys look like they’re getting ready to move yet?” asked Jake.

  “No sir, just sitting there. The smaller one looks like he’s asleep,” added Jake.

  “OK, as soon as one of them stands up, let me know,” said Jake. “Now where was I?”

  “Expansion of outer rings of defenses,” said Jacob.

  “Right,” continued Jake. “Now I wasn’t there, but Frank was and he said that when this new General started unloading his ideas, everybody was thinking this guy is going to get a lot of good people killed.”

  “Did the Major object?” asked Jacob.

  “Not at first,” said Jake. “Frank said the general was a real hard barker and was literally screaming out his ideas at the other officers. It was like the guy thought if he talked loud enough and was forceful enough in his approach that nobody would ever challenge him.”

  “And so, Mark challenged him?” asked Jacob.

  “Nope, he just sat there like all the other officers and took it,” said Jake.

  “So how does tactical operations fit into this?” asked Jacob.

  “Well, like I said, Mark’s a wiz at the stuff and so he goes back to his office and starts laying out increased gasoline, food, casualty and bunch of other tactical projections, all based on the general’s plan to extend distances between headquarters and the existing out posts. Mark identified several sets of estimates based on increased distances: so many more deaths and wounded at an additional five miles, then 10 miles and then 25 miles. He sent the new general his preliminary findings in a short e-mail message.”

  “And how did General Peters react?” asked Jacob.

  “The guy went ballistic,” said Jake. “Called Major Harris into his office and ripped him a new one.”

  “Ouch,” offered Jacob.

  “Yea,” added Jake. “General Peters didn’t know much about combat, but the guy was an impressive screamer.”

  “Then what happened?” asked Jacob.

  “As soon as ole screamin Peters took his first breath, Mark laid down a stack of impact statements on the General’s desk,” said Jake. “Each page provided details of what would happen if General Peters implemented his plan.”

  Jacob smiled a little as he adjusted the focus on the SmartScope.

  “And the General…” said Jacob.

  “Went nuts!” said Jake. “He picked up the statement pages and threw ‘um into the face of Major Harris.”

  “What did he do?” asked Jacob.

  “Nothing,” said Jake. “Just stood there cool as a cucumber and took the second wave.”

  “Ripped him a second one?” wondered Jacob.

  “And the second one was extra-large,” replied Jake with a big smile on his face.

  “Let me guess,” offered Jacob. “Major Harris didn’t respond.”

  “Not at first,” said Jake. “He let the general scream until the guy looked like he was going to have his own heart attack.”

  “And then?” asked Jacob.

  “And then Major Mark starts quoting each of the impact statements one at a time,” said Jake. “Seems our Major has the kind of brain that can recall information in perfect detail. They call it eidetic memory or something. Anyway, Mark starts reeling off they data like some kind of computer. And he does it so fast the General doesn’t have a chance to interrupt Mark.”

  “Cool,” said Jacob.

  “Ten minutes later the General is sitting back down in his chair and rubbing his left arm like its sore or something,” continued Jake. “The guy is all flush and out of gas.”

  “So did the general give up?” asked Jacob.

  “Not until Mark unloaded
the final stat on him,” replied Jake.

  “Which was,” wondered Jacob.

  “How many additional body bags the General would need to order over the next six months,” said Jake with a smile on his face.

  “Bazinga,” said Jacob with a smile.

  “Bazinga,” replied Jake.

  Through the SmartScope Jacob suddenly saw the taller man stand up and stretch out his back.