A Texas Son in Washington's Army Chapter 8

     On the last day of the trip they stopped short of Boston. Carl whistled the song that had been plaguing him the entire trip. It had begun to annoy Sam but he kept his opinion to himself. Two weeks with a relative stranger would be enough to create friction no matter how focused those people are on any given task. He watched best friends get in fist fights in Afghanistan. It was often unavoidable when you put dominant personalities together under stress and for long periods of time. Once they had arrived at their destination, all that tension went away. They were both now on mission. Sam had sent word ahead to have Revere meet them outside the city. In a copse of trees they waited for him to return. Carl removed his rifle from the saddle bag and slung it over his shoulder but under his coat to keep it concealed. They both sat there waiting. Finally Sam broke the silence. “Carl, if you succeed, and we kick these oppressors from our shores, what do you plan to do next?” Carl breathed in and out, thinking of the best way to answer the question. “I have no idea. I didn’t ask to come here, this wasn’t voluntary. I am just trying to do my part for now and I’ll handle the rest as it comes.” Sam nodded in agreement. “That is the only thing any of us can do. So which colony,” Sam stopped himself. They had agreed at the last congress that colonies would now be called states. “Which state were you born?” Carl smiled. Any excuse to talk about Texas. “I was born in a state called Texas. You don’t even know yet how big the land mass y’all have is. America stretches from the Atlantic to the Pacific oceans. It is huge. Texas is on the border with Mexico and started out as its own country. It revolted and fought for independence from Mexico, but in the end we could not hold them off. We were offered statehood and America became our new country. This of course happened long before I was born.” Just as Carl was about to get into the history of his great state a rider approached. Sam looked at the man and walked over to him with his arms wide open. “Paul, you have arrived. Very good to see you man. Have you seen to the preparations?” Paul beamed “Sam, everything is ready. We were already planning an offensive, but with your news we changed course. We have someone on the inside.” Sam knew of Warren’s affair with Margaret but never believe he could turn her wholesale against her husband. “Margaret right?” Carl asked. Paul stopped and stared directly into the eyes of Carl. “We have not been introduced. I am Paul Revere.” Paul stuck out his hand for Carl. Carl gripped it and looked very pleased. “How did you know who it was?” Paul asked. “All in good time Mr. Revere. All in good time.” Paul was not satisfied with that answer, but he none the less accepted it. Sam had informed him that he should now ask too many questions and that they had a new patriot in the fight against the British.

     They gathered around the horses and use them to create a secondary wall. The trees to the outside, the horses in a triangle around them and them in the middle. “So Sam, Carl, will anyone explain to me what is happening?” Carl shook his head in the negative. “There are details I cannot and should not give you. I am going to show you something that will seem strange, but I must demand that you accept when I will not answer a question.” Revere did not like the sound of that. “I am not accustomed to being kept in the dark. Sam I have been running the resistance while you have been blabbering to the cowards at the congress. Then you bring this man here and tell me I must listen to him. This is not an easy task sir. No easy task at all.” Carl placed his hand on Paul’s shoulder. He looked him in the eye and said “Paul Revere, the midnight rider. The man who warned of the looming attack. The man who will be written into the history books. Your task has already been completed. Sir you will be a hero of the revolution and of the new United States of America. In truth the hardest part for you was done. But now I am here. I am a ghost. I am not to be spoken of, written about, or even thought about. You will create the situation that will allow me to efficiently kill many redcoats. Boston should be clear by Tomorrow.” Paul stood there flabbergasted. He had no idea that his simple ride screaming “The British are coming” would be something so well thought of. It had only been a month since he made that ride. The pride in him swelled enough to lower his inhibitions about Carl. Carl opened up his long coat and pulled out his rifle. Paul had never seen anything like it, and Sam smirked. This is a semi-automatic rifle. It has limited ammunition and once it is all gone, this is just a club. The idea is for me to make every bullet count. I shoot officers and the occasional Sergeant. The Sons of Liberty will have to handle a leaderless army.” Both men reveled in the idea. Sam considered staying. This is what he really wanted. He wanted to liberate Boston. He wanted to be in the fight. Carl saw the look in his eyes and knew it well. It was the same look he and many of his men would get. The thrill of the fight. The anticipation of a win lose scenario where loss meant certain death. There was no greater thrill. “Sam, if you stay then everything we have talked about previously is in jeopardy. You told me you trust Paul. Let us take it from here.” Sam knew Carl was right.

     Carl had no intention of sleeping tonight. He knew that he had to breech during dinner when all the officers and staff would be in the room. He learned that Gage often had local men who were loyal to the crown to dinner. He was occupying Hancock’s house. It would no doubt bring John Hancock much joy at the thought of these men quartering in his house being dispatched quickly and with no hesitation. Carl wished he had taken the opportunity to talk with Hancock but his foot print and secret was known by enough already. The goal was to disappear, not make himself more known. “From now on gentlemen, I will only be referred to in letters and talk, when necessary, as Chaos. I will only communicate with Paul or Washington directly.” Sam and Paul acknowledged. Carl shook Sam’s hand and grabbed the outside with his left hand holding Sam longer than usual. “You started this. Together we will finish it. Allow me to send you off with something I used to say after every patrol in Afghanistan. ‘America, Fuck yea’” Sam did not understand what he meant, but he appreciated the fervor in the way Carl said it. “God save you Carl. Same to you Paul. Till we meet again.” Carl looked at Paul and frowned. “Let’s walk through the plan. We will go over it several times until I am sure it is perfect. All operations from now on will be planned before execution.” Paul used a stick to draw out the layout of the house. Carl began using a rock on the ground to simulate the movement he would make once inside the house. He talked through what he would do in each room and where to expect resistance. In all it seemed like he would have a straight shot to the dining room. He would not need to go up any stairs. A simple left in the door, then a right and he would be in the dining area. “Are you going to kill everyone in the house?” Paul asked. Carl looked at him with the stare he would give to his men when they said something stupid. “Of course not. Only people wearing red uniforms.” Carl stated flatly. Paul was still confused about everything, and he definitely wanted a rifle like Carl had. Right now Carl was wishing he had a few frag grenades. That would make this whole event so much easier he thought.

     Carl kept his rifle under his coat and mounted his horse. He and Paul rode into town without predicament. Carl was set up in a building north of Hancock’s house. Paul left him for a meeting with Margaret and sat on the ground silently meditating. This would be the first time he would have to use his battle drills for room clearing in a real world scenario. They always managed to take them by surprise and detain them. This time there would be no detention. He focused in on his actions upon entering. Went through it again and again in his head. He had to remind himself to not be too rigid though. The occasional adjustment to the plan would be necessary. Posted at every exit would be a Son of Liberty to catch anyone who may run out but no one would follow him inside. The other men could not see his equipment. Margaret would open the door and let him know if anyone was not in the dining room. Once he received confirmation he would begin moving swiftly and putting a round in every red coat wearing person he saw. Once the first round is fired I will have to keep my head on a swivel. As long as I make it to the room without incident then this should be cake. Paul came back beaming. “Margaret says everything is prepared. You will arrive at the door at six thirty. They will have begun taking drinks by then, which should slow them down.” Carl like the sound of that. “One more thing though, and I don’t think you will like this.” Paul hesitated as Carl anxiously awaited. “I have a dispatch from Washington. He requests that you take Gage alive.” Carl thought about this for a second. There was an initial burst of anger, but then reason swept over him. This was probably a good idea. “I have no idea what he looks like.” Carl said. “What if I shoot him without realizing it?” Paul simply shrugged his shoulders and said “America, fuck yea” Carl laughed. He laughed hard. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so hard. He stood up and shook Paul’s hand. “Paul, thank you for that.” Paul didn’t understand but it had been too long since Carl had been able to simply laugh. Not since he was with his section in the sand had he allowed himself joy. “I’ll try not to shoot the guy at the head of the table, but we will need an extraction plan then.” Paul looked puzzled. Carl realized he didn’t understand and tried again. “I will need a plan to get him out immediately, since staying put is a death sentence. How do I get him out?” Paul thought about that for a second. “I can come in once I hear the shooting and help you tie him up. We can drag him out hopefully through the back before anyone notices.” Carl gave it a run through in his mind. “Ok, I need rope and a bag to put over his head. I will just whack him on the head and we can drag him out and tie him up outside of the house. The question is how do we get him out of town without anyone noticing?” “I can do that” Paul said. “We bring him here, change his clothes, put him in a carriage under some hay and drive him to the Sons of Liberty base.” Carl did not really like it, but could see the wisdom in it. It complicated what was otherwise a simple plan. “Ok, make the arrangements. We only have an hour to make this happen.”

     Carl stayed while Revere went to make the changes to the plan. Carl looked through is bag and pulled out his tourniquet and placed it in his inside doublet pocket. He placed a pressure dressing next to it. He grabbed 2 magazines, both full and put one in each pants pocket. He had to tighten up his belt to keep his pants from falling down due to the extra weight. He grabbed one of his hoarded meal bars and ate it. The entire route here Sam and he had only eaten hard tack, which was a dry block of bread similar to what he used to eat in military rations, and the occasional rabbit. In an effort to save ammunition Sam shot the rabbits with his musket and the large ball had not left much to eat on both occasions. He was starting to miss the normal gas station food, even the occasional cheese burger. The simple things really are missed when you don’t have access to them. He checked the light on his rifle to make sure it still had power. The tactical lights were bright, but did not last long, even with the expensive lithium batteries. He checked his Holo sight, which was also still in good working order. Everything seemed to be perfect. His folding knife was in his pocket and his Gurkha blade was in the waist of his pants. Carl could think of nothing more to do. Everything was ready. Kill Gage, no prisoners he heard in his ear. He could not feel breath or sense anyone present, but he heard it clearly. No. Intelligence is intelligence. I have no doubt that Washington will handle Gage accordingly. Carl walked out of the room he was stashed in, leaving behind is back pack so he could travel unnoticed. He stepped outside to wait on Paul and looking at the sky. The sun was setting and in the distance the purple and orange hue of the soon to be night’s sky was beautiful.

     Revere was running late. He did not know how to maneuver Boston and without Revere the whole plan would fail. Just as panic was beginning to rear its head Revere came around a corner. “Paul, I was getting worried.” Revere urged him inside. “Something is wrong. Patrols have doubled. The house can still be taken, but the response time will be swift.” Carl thought for a moment. “We will not take Gage alive then. Back to the original plan. I go in, do my job, and then we leave.” That’s the next problem. You will encounter slightly more resistance and Margaret is suspected by her husband. I do not think she can let you in.” Carl was feeling angry. “The other option I have is I can set up in a building and wait for him to cross a window. I can shoot him then.” Revere shook his head. “No, they will surround us immediately. We will have no way to get out.”

     Carl stood there silently. “Can your men still blend in and cover the exits?” Revere nodded. “Can you bring any more to bear?” “I have already alerted as many as I can. You will have twenty fighting men. We have muskets hidden in alleys and patriot’s houses. We can put up a fight.” Carl did not want to postpone. He had no idea when this opportunity would become available again. “Are the officers still meeting up for dinner?” Revere smiled with irony, “Yes, British officers must have their tea.” “Ok then we execute the plan without the hostage. I will only be in the building for a minute then I am leaving. I will exit out the back door just as we discussed, and from there we either run or fight our way out. At this point Carl decided he was going to clear the house with his pistol and save the rifle for the possible counter attack. Revere and Carl mounted their horses and rode for about 30 minutes to the house. By now it was past 630 and the sun was very low in the sky. Carl nodded to Revere and dismounted his horse. He handed the reins to Paul and began walking towards the house. He knocked on the door and then put his hand in his pocket to retrieve the pistol. Margaret opened the door and got a frightened look on her face. He walked in and gripped his pistol with both hands like he learned during qualification. He took the first left, then the first right and saw a door way. The other side of the door way was where the magic would happen. He looked back at Margaret who gave him the signal that everything was as planned. She knew he was about to kill her husband and he could not understand what must be going through her head right now. He pulled the pistol in towards his chest, with his finger off the trigger, resting on the trigger guard. He saw the door opened in to the inside, so he would move left into the room and take the corner and work from there. He brought his leg up, and kicked the door as hard as he could. It flew open violently and Carl quickly moved through the door frame, also known as the fatal funnel. He could see men standing up, surprised by the intrusion. He moved towards the corner where a young redcoat was standing. He fired his first round and the man fell in the corner before he even realized he had been shot. Carl turned to the right and began picking targets. No one was armed except the young private that Carl had just shot. Shooting unarmed men does not feel right. Why are you hesitating, you know this was a possibility. Carl quit thinking and started acting. He took one step forward. Only about 4 seconds had actually passed by but when you are clearing a room that is all the time in the world. He leveled the sites on the second man and fired. He fired in sequence as the men began scrambling. He fired nine times and hit nine targets. His heart rate was up but there was no longer any conscious effort going on. Everything now was instinct. When the tenth round fired, the chamber locked to the rear. Carl dropped the magazine without retrieving it and put his last one in. He hit the slide release and fired two more shots before a tall man had closed the gap, moving towards Carl and not away. Carl pulled out his Benchmade and ducked down, ramming the knife straight up into the man’s groin before removing it and hitting the release button to close the blade. He slid the knife back in his pocket and fired three more rounds. All that was left now was Gage. Gage simply stared at him waiting for the inevitable. Carl put the pistol on safe and grabbed his rifle. He released it from the sling with a simple quick release clip and held it with both hands, with the butt of the rifle in his left hand. He walked up to gage and hit him in the head. He attempted to put his hands up, but he was not expecting this. He was waiting to be shot, but was paying attention to what Carl had in his hand, and not what Carl was about to do. The rifle certainly does stand out doesn’t it? Gage hit the floor but was not unconscious. He hit him again and then for good measure spit on him once he was out. He reattached his rifle and put everything back as necessary. He turned and picked up his pistol magazine so he wouldn’t leave anything behind. Once he took ten seconds to look around he walked over to gage, placed his armpit on the back of Carl’s neck and lifted him up. Carl then lurched him over his shoulder and turned and walked back through the door, back around to the kitchen and out the back door. Not one word had been spoken. He went out the back door and dropped Gage on the ground.

     Revere came riding up as soon as he saw Carl exit the house. “Hurry, we haven’t much time.” Carl looked at him and then realized he only put one bullet in each person. The likelihood of some of them surviving a nine millimeter round was pretty high. “Take him, I saw an opportunity and I took it. It was flawless, but I have to go in and finish up.” “Hey, wait….” But Carl had already bolted back inside. He ran into the dining room and saw Margaret there. “Where is Thomas?” she asked. “Get out of here now. Leave.” Carl pulled out his large Gurkha blade from his back waist where it was secured and unfolded it. He was looking for breathing then decided it would be better to just make sure. He walked over to each man in turn and slit his throat. He could not risk any of them talking. The last one he went to reached up and grabbed his arm as he prepared to run the blade across his throat. Carl kicked him in the mouth and hacked down so hard it cut right through his neck. He had to pull up hard as the point got stuck in the wooden floor. He cleaned the blade on the officer’s uniform and folded it up and placed it back where it came from. He then sprinted outside where Revere was still on his horse with Gage folded over the rear. Carl leapt on to the horse from the stairs and they began riding. They rode through back alleys and stayed off the street. As they were going to exit the alley way several blocks from Hatchcock’s house a wall of Redcoats was waiting for them. Carl jumped off his horse as the first volley fired. Revere took a round right through the chest. His horse bucked up and Gage fell off as Revere also fell to the ground. Carl pulled out his pistol and shot Gage in the back of the head. He then transitioned to his rifle and waited. His horse was laying on the ground laboring to breath. He used the horse as cover and laid on his back behind the horse. He could hear someone yelling “Hold the line men. Reload!” He knew it would take a few seconds for them to be ready to fire again so he rolled over, placed his rifle on the horse and picked up a sight picture. Look for the guy with the sword he thought to himself. He saw the man shouting the orders and immediately placed the red dot on his face and squeezed the trigger. It was taking every ounce of self-control to not fire in controlled pairs as he had been taught. Once he saw the officer go down he was about to begin the bugaloo when out of nowhere shots rang out. The redcoats began dropping like flies. He waited behind cover until he was sure the shooting was done. He stood up and could see patriot’s muskets sticking out of windows. The people of Boston saved him. He looked around and saw two men on horses riding towards him. He picked up his rifle and pointed it at them. They both raised their hands and said “America, fuck yea” to him. I guess this was the new secret code. Carl’s face was straight as could be, but on the inside he was smiling ear to ear. “Let’s get out of here men.” Carl said. He hopped on the horse and held on to the rider. He told the rider “We have to go back to the room where I was, I have a bag there that must be retrieved.” The rider seemed to already know. He rode up at a gallop and pulled the reins in as they arrived at the building.

     Carl hustled up the stairs and grabbed his bag. There was nothing left to get. He had packed everything up and been expecting a hasty egress. He ran back down the stairs just in time to see another full squad of redcoats moving towards them. Carl hopped on the horse but put his back to the rider. “Hold on to me, do not let me fall off. Ride as fast as you can.” Carl yelled. He shouldered his rifle and tried to put a bead on the one guy not carrying a musket. The bumpy ride made it hard to pick up a good sight picture, but he waited for the up bounce and aimed center mass. As soon as he was moving down from the gallop he pulled the trigger. He seemed to hit center mass, and the officer fell. The squad still fired and Carl braced to be hit. Nothing happened. They were far enough away that the accuracy of the non-rifled muskets was horrible at that range. Once they were sufficiently far away the rider slowed down and Carl was able to switch from rear facing to forward facing. Carl reached into his pocket and pulled out his can of chewing tobacco. He opened it and saw only one pinch left. He put it in his lip and put the empty case back in his pocket. Another item I must destroy. He had been rationing it knowing this day would come. He managed to quit on his first deployment to Afghanistan. He received no mail for over 2 months and the dip he brought with him ran out after 2 months. He went another three weeks without, and his body was over the withdrawal. He tended to get real cranky though. It’s going to be a rough few weeks.

     They arrived at the arranged meeting area. He dismounted and could still the hear firing of muskets in the back ground. The fighting must be intense in Boston right now. The people have begun to turn the tide. Carl asked to see the stash of weapons and the rider who rescued him chuckled. “Where do you think the citizenry got the arms that just saved your ass?” The tone was gruff and harsh. Immediately Carl identified with this. These were more his people. The intellectuals who are working through the non-tangible aspects of America were often a reminder of his modern world where the ruling class sat and debated then went to have lunch together after wards. The people though, their life wasn’t so simple. He could work well with these men.