A week had passed since that night. After Sam stood up, he had crowed, “I knew it! This changes everything!” and abruptly left the table and room. He, being what he was, had no problem adjusting to my history.
"Where are you going?" I had asked.
"I'm going to find your past. Now that I know two times you died as a soldier, I should be able to answer a few questions that have been bothering me about you. That was a good story, but I'm the Raven, I've been telling tales since the sun first rose over the planet. I hear what you don't say as clearly as what you do, Dru."
"I don't doubt it. "I said. I sat with my head down, numb and shut down by the agonies of my past brought back to the surface, still raw after all these years.
Frank had sat dazed with glassy eyes while Martina had bawled her eyes out, hugging me tightly and refusing to let go, saying, “Oh hermano…” over and over again. Sarah, who had covered her mouth with her hand about five minutes into the reveal reached out to Frank and hugged him, crying into his shoulder.
The next day, Frank had come to me and tried to talk. I had quietly said, “No. After Broadhead.” and he had deflated a little bit, nodded his head, and gone away. It was the only way I could process and handle the new reality of four people knowing my sins, my history. I hadn’t felt this raw or exposed since…well…the first time I'd died all those years ago alone and facing an entire army.
We spent six days developing a plan and putting it into action. It was brilliant, mainly because I didn't have anything to do with it. Sam and Frank spent some time discussing logistics and assets, then built a diabolical plan to take down not only the Dallas headquarters, but, if everything went right, potentially identify, locate, and take out the three head Druids who ran the whole show. They went by the titles of CEO, CFO, and COO, but they were Druids, and Druids ran councils of three. The thing is, companies that want to look real and honest and all that stuff have to list those people who hold those positions. Broadhead was no different, so Sam was able to find out who these people were.
Our CFO, the Chief Financial Officer, was one Ms. Shannon Byrne. I smiled when I saw that, and so did Frank.
“She was the one who had me taken and tortured,” Frank said. “She works out of the Dallas office, she’ll almost definitely be there.”
She was a stern-looking woman with dirty blond hair and a cleft chin. Her photo showed her unsmiling and serious.
Our COO, The Chief Operations Officer, was one Mr. Dillon Carrick. He was unknown to all of us, but his smiling headshot on the Broadhead website showed a well-proportioned face that was clean-shaven with green eyes and a knowing smile.
Last but not least was our CEO, the Chief Executive Officer, who was identified as Louis Hughes but disappointingly, had no photograph attached to his bio.
We spent three days with Elijah explaining and practicing the plan with his small group of ex-special forces soldiers and private attack squad made up entirely of Raven's followers.
Today was the last day of training and tomorrow was the action. I sat watching the final meeting until it ended then went over to Elijah.
“You and your guys are up to this?”
“Yup.”
Elijah was not much of a talker, but he rarely replied to me with anything more than a syllable or two. It was starting to bother me. “How come there are so many former military in your group? Aren’t you all from a tiny Nation of people?”
“Indigenous.”
“Yeah? What’s that got to do with it?”
He didn’t even bother to sneer at me as he walked off, but good old Damon was right there sneering for the both of them. “We’re all indigenous, but we’re not all from the same nations. Culturally we’re as different as any other people. But when it comes to Raven, he’s the God of all the Americas.
“I still don’t understand.”
“The Native peoples of Canada and America have always been warriors, even for the countries that stole their lands. We make up a disproportionate amount of active servicemen and women.”
“Ah. Gotcha.”
“Do you? Do you understand anything at all about us?”
“Damon, you won’t believe me if I say yes, so why do you ask?”
He turned his back on me and walked away.
That night, I prepared for my part in the plan and packed up. Sam’s equipment was fantastic, and I was able to outfit myself in pure MilSpec gear that was as familiar to me as breathing.
One interesting thing happened the last night we were there before the action. Sam called us all into the medical suite where the doctor was finishing up crafting a mold of Frank's stumps for the creation of a cutting-edge set of carbon fiber prosthetics.
Frank looked so depressed I was actually scared for him. The reckoning was coming. I realized suddenly that I intended to be there for him when it arrived.
Sam had declared, "We don't have the facilities to make the fittings here, but we'll send off the molds tomorrow morning and the prosthetics will be built and shipped to whatever address you want."
Sarah had answered for Frank, "We don't know where that will be yet, but thank you for this. It actually means a lot."
Sam had the grace to look uncomfortable and said, "I know we're not really working together, but sincerely respect what you are doing, Sarah." Then he turned to Frank, saying, "And I am sorry that this happened to you, Frank."
Frank looked at where his missing leg should be and said nothing.
The next morning, we all woke up early, had breakfast, and headed out to our respective locations. Frank and Sarah went into the communications center of the house and sat down to run communications and oversee the operation.
The plan was pretty simple. The primary goal was to remove the ability of Broadhead to utilize their Dallas offices and severely impact their operating efficiency worldwide through that disruption. The secondary goal was to take out one, two, or even all three of the Druid Triumvirate if the opportunity presented itself. This was trickier because we didn’t actually know if any of them were in Dallas, but it seemed almost certain that at least one would want to be physically present during this clusterfuck we had caused already.
So we were going to do a variation of the classic bait and switch. Sam, a few of his guys, and I were going to go way out into Texas Hill country and call out Broadhead for a little parlay.
How? Technology, baby.
At 9:30 am, every monitor, television, and piece of technology connected to the internet in the Broadhead building began showing a recording of Sam as he played the “Evil Eco-Terrorist” known as the Trickster. I got to watch on my own phone as he broadcast it on his FB page at the same time. Sam, of course, was sitting right next to me in an SUV as we drove out into Hill Country towards a sacred space called Enchanted Rock. That is where we hoped to meet at least one of the Triumvirate to “talk.”
The video was inspired. Sam was ranting and raving on the camera. “Enemies of the Earth!” He screamed over every TV, computer monitor, and cell phone in the building, “Prepare for your last day! Mother Earth has said, "Enough!" Enough of your raping the planet for profit. Enough of your bombs, bullets, and destruction! Today you reap what you sew! Today I blow up your building!"
Through the cameras we hacked and streamed, I could see some people who had started watching this with bemusement slowly start wondering if it was real. Some people had already started heading towards the exits. Then Sam locked the automatic computer-monitored locks on the doors.
“Nobody gets to leave their fate! You all will die as soon as I have pronounced the sentence! This building is locked and we have placed explosives in the foundation. This building will go down in five minutes. You all will die!”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
At that precise moment, the soldiers that had snuck in an hour before and led by Elijah set off a few remote explosions on the lower floors of the building and in the carport. Nothing that would actually take down the building, because that wasn't the real plan, but more than enough for people to accept that this was real and that they were about to die. It also closed off the exits of the garage, to impede anyone trying to leave.
Pandemonium ensued as hundreds of employees rushed to the elevators, stairs, and the lobby. We watched as the tide of people turned into a tidal wave of panic rushing towards the locked doors. As the security guards saw the crowds, three of them put up their hands and began yelling for calm and orderly behavior. The fourth guard turned to the glass doors and windows and drew his gun. His first shot went into the door and did fuck all because the doors were bulletproof. His slug sat there embedded in the door about a quarter of an inch.
He turned to the window beside the door and it shattered with the first shot, falling into pieces smaller than a pencil eraser. Safety glass.
I started laughing and Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a dollar. I took it as he asked, “How did you know?”
"Broadhead had a lot of security, but none of it was coherent. Metal detectors to look at my guns, but then they handed them back to me. Stupid. So I saw on my visit that the place had bulletproof doors. So what? I was positive that they built to code, which only required safety glass for windows. So what if they upgraded the doors? What were the odds they ever bothered to upgrade the first-floor windows? The whole damn building is glass. It would have cost them millions. So, basic safety glass.”
The recording of Sam was still going on with him ranting and raving and calling down the doom of the ages. “By now the primary charges have gone off and prepared the building for implosion. Say your prayers to whatever God you believe in. You will meet them soon!” People were flooding out of the now three broken floor-to-ceiling windows.
“You’re sure that the real message was sent to the right offices?” I asked.
“I sent it over the private, ‘executive’ intranet they have in their building. It’s reserved for the most senior people. They got it.”
The “It” he was referring to was the short recorded message that outed Sam as the Trickster and told the Broadhead Triumvirate that we knew who and what they were and that we wanted a meeting on a neutral ground to discuss alternatives to destroying each other.
“Hello Druids,” the video began, “I am the man you call the Trickster. I am going to destroy your building, but I’m sure all of your people will have time to get out. I’ll tear it down completely unless you come meet me. I want the Triumvirate. Yes, I know what and who you are, and I have to tell you, a few real Gods around wouldn’t upset me.” He shrugged at the camera and winked.
I’m only concerned with the destruction of the earth, and I only recently learned what you’re actually doing, and I have to be honest, it might be that we’re actually on the same side. I dream of an Earth returned to its pristine shape, the earth from when humans were shepherds and stewards of nature. You might be able to bring that about, yes?”
“So why fight? Meet me at the top of Enchanted Rock. If my people see the Triumvirate head out towards Fredericksburg, the building will remain standing. What have you got to lose? We may become allies, maybe even friends. It’s good business, after all. I’m already there waiting with two people you’ve been eager to meet these last few days.” He panned the camera out to show Frank and me seated and relaxed in two chairs beside him.
“That’s three of you and three of us. No need for soldiers or staff, that way we can have a serious discussion and see what accommodations we might be able to reach. See you there?” and the video ended with Sam smiling, arms spread apart in an eloquent, questioning shrug.
Back at the Broadhead offices, we watched as a large group of well-dressed executives rapidly bustled out of the elevators and rushed towards the windows. Several of the group were security, and at the center was a woman who was a VIP. It was clear to see that it was our murderous CFO, Shannon Byrne.
At the same moment I recognized her, we heard Frank's voice come over our headsets, “Target one, CFO identified. Watch her and task drone…” here he paused and ground out “…drone Babycakes to surveillance. Let’s see if she's running, or going to meet Sam.”
Sam giggled and said, “I love my Babycakes. You keep her safe, Frank.”
“You really had to name them all?” He replied.
“Of course.”
The flow of terrified employees had trickled off to nothing and Frank said, “Elijah, it’s a go. You have five minutes before the bomb squad arrives. Get to work.”
Elijah and his crew had already been in the building thanks to Sam's ability to override the electronic locks of the loading bay side doors and other locations of secure egress. They had spent that hour dressed in business suits or janitorial garb riding the elevators and planting incendiaries out of sight.
Now they stripped, pulled out guns and a final few firebombs from the custodian carts, and sprinted to the elevators. Elijah and three others went to the upper floors to throw incendiaries into the offices of the executives, while another group went to the server rooms. Sam, meanwhile, removed the video and installed the virus that started wiping all the hard drives and servers of everything they contained.
Franks said, “Three minutes” over the headsets.
Elijah replied, “Munitions set. Leaving now.”
As Elijah met up with his second crew, they dumped all their guns into the custodian cart and pushed it into the elevator.
Frank switched our view to the garage cameras as a four person security detail in a classic security diamond formation led COO Dillon Carrick into a Black SUV. Two more were already in the vehicle and immediately drove towards the exit after Carrick and one of the diamond jumped in the back seat. The three others jumped into the next SUV and immediately followed.
Frank said, “Target two, Dillon Carrick positive ID leaving with one escort. Task drone Cutiepie to follow. Elijah, one minute until first responders arrive.”.
“We can hear them from the street. Exiting from the building.” Then Elijah and all his crew ran out as if they were the last terrified employees finally getting out of a bomb threat, sprinting away in different directions as the fire department and police arrived simultaneously.
One cop looked at the running soldiers dressed in suits suspiciously until about thirty incendiary bombs all went off within five seconds of each other throughout the building. After that, he and every other first responder were running like hell away from what they thought was a terrorist attack on a building in downtown Dallas.
By the time they realized the building wasn't going to collapse, the entire thing was an inferno battling against automatic fire suppression systems.
Phase one was a complete success. If any equipment survived the fire, the hard drives would be wiped anyway. There was nothing left for Broadhead there.
We were still driving down the road out towards Enchanted Rock and had nothing to do but listen to Frank run the operation from the communication center on Sam's compound and watch the cameras on our phones.
There were four of us in the truck. Up front Damon was driving while Sam sat in the front passenger seat. It was a brand new Dodge truck with a huge rear cab for myself and the other guy, a friendly, quiet soldier who had introduced himself as “Jesse’s my easy name. You can’t pronounce my real one.”
So I smiled and said, “Hi, Jesse. You’re with us today?”
“Yup-yup.” he answered. “I’m kind of Elijah's number two guy.” He proceeded to tell me his life story from the time he was born to the Nez Perce people, to the five-year hitch in the army, to finding an actual God running a group he could get behind.
We got along great and were sharing my phone to watch the antics. Right now we were watching a split screen of two drone cameras following three cars heading out to Enchanted Rock. This had made Sam happy because our biggest fear was that they’d turn around after we torched the building, but we had a plan for that as well, though it looked like we wouldn’t need it.
“Shame we don’t have those drones armed,” I said.
Sam explained, “They’re little drones for surveillance. They’re at the limits of their capacity now. We’re going to lose the feed soon when they fall behind and their batteries die.”
“I know,'' I replied, “I was just thinking out loud.”
Jesse looked over at me and asked, “Are you going to be able to do your part of this insane plan?”
“No problem,” I answered. “You guys hit your marks and get those two standing at the edge of the summit, I’ll do the rest.”
“Not until I tell you, Dru. We absolutely have to get this right, and I need to question them first.” Sam said.
“I understand,” I growled out. “Don’t tell me my job, Sam.”
Over the headsets, Frank spoke up, “How long until you are all in place? They will be there in about three hours if they don’t stop on the way.”
“We’re about an hour out from Enchanted Rock, but we have to drop off Dru first. Then say about thirty minutes to hike to the top. We’ll be in place in plenty of time.”
"Alright. Make sure you send up drone Sugarplum before they get there so I have eyes. Dru, you have everything?”
“All good, LT.” I replied. “Just like old times.”
“Be safe, brother.”
I swallowed. It was going to be a long time before that felt right or normal to hear. “You bet.”
“Sam, Damon, and Jesse, when this pops off, it’s gonna get loud and you’ll need to move your asses. Even assuming they don’t try something nasty the second they see you, they’re going to try to kill you all as soon as Dru starts. Make sure you get down and hustle. There’s no real cover there, so if Sam isn’t as smart as he claims, your asses are going to be hanging out on a bare rock surface.”
“I’m smarter than I claim, trust me.”
Damon added, “I’ll take my chances with my God over you two hired guns any day.”
Jesse frowned and looked like he was about to say something but settled back into his seat and looked over at me apologetically. I nodded to him to let him know it was all good. Frank didn't even bother replying.
About ten minutes later, they dropped me off to do my thing and the three of them went off to Enchanted Rock to set up an ambush that the damn Druids would hopefully literally never see coming.
As I got into place and settled down, Frank came on the headset again. We’ve lost the drones, but based on their progress, they should be about ninety minutes out. Is everyone in place?”
I looked at my wrist with the old Speedmaster watch, it's scuffed and battered body sitting on a relatively new black NATO strap. It was ticking along slowly. “Affirmative,” I replied after marking the time.
“You bet.” replied Sam. “I’ll send up my baby when we see the cars arrive down below, and we’ll get into final positions. In the meantime, picnic!” Then I watched through my spotting scope as Sam lifted an honest to Gods wicker picnic basket and set it on the top of a large stone and proceeded to pull out Fried chicken, potato salad, and cans of coke for the three of them on top of Enchanted Rock. I snarled a mild obscenity under my breath pulled a granola bar out of my pocket and ate it. I swear I could see Sam looking right at me through the spotting scope and grinning as he lifted a chicken leg in salute.
Fucking asshole.
