Hi, My Name is Tessee
- Thread starter PacNorWest
- Start date
Thank you Mrs PAC. I pray for you to have peace and Comfort through these trying times.
Sammy55
Veteran Member
Oh, Pac...my heart hurts for you and your mister.
But I know, as well as you do, that God is with you and will sustain you through everything. I thank Him for being with you. I ask Him to help you keep your eyes and heart and mind focused on Him. And I ask Him to give you the wisdom and strength you need to get through these dark days.
I'm praying even harder for you and your mister.......
But I know, as well as you do, that God is with you and will sustain you through everything. I thank Him for being with you. I ask Him to help you keep your eyes and heart and mind focused on Him. And I ask Him to give you the wisdom and strength you need to get through these dark days.
I'm praying even harder for you and your mister.......
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#707
"Mark! You can't be serious." Clora hissed between clenched teeth, the only time she had ever questioned one of his decisions.
Mark was about to reply when the prince said smoothly, "and the children, would they not be more comfortable staying with their Mother?" The look that flashed between the two men gave Mark all the information he needed to know. Something big was in the works, and the prince was offering Mark his considerable protection for the family.
"We are honored your Highness that you would extend your protection to our humble family. I will call the school and send Karl in to pick them up." Mark was busy making plans.
"May I suggest we pick them up on the way into town. I have meetings I need to attend and must insist that you hurry."
Once again the coded message was received and understood.
Olga was sent up stairs to get her things and Mark helped Clora down the hall to the bedroom. "Mark!" Clora hissed a second time, "What's going on?"
"I don't know for sure, but the prince was warning me to hurry you along. Please go, I've got to keep you safe along with the babies. The prince will give you the best of care and it will be a trip and an experience for the children." Mark cajoled to his best ability. "Please," he said softly when Clora got her famous mulish look and her lips pursed and her jaw stuck out in fierce determination. "Please trust us."
Mark did what any good man would do when sending his wife away and out of trouble. He kissed her thourally.
"I don't want to be there one minute longer than necessary," Clora leveled one of her 'looks' at Mark.
"I'll be there as soon as possible," he promised. "Please Love, you've got to go now."
Clora nodded. She couldn't speak for the horrible lump in her throat and the burning sting of tears she was trying to hold back. Clora patted her pocket for her gun and walked with Mark out to the second car in the procession. Olga was just as emotional and reluctant to leave; but somehow they got in the car and it sped away toward the school.
"We have got to get ready for some kind of attack. Or it might be a raid. I don't know what it's going to be, only the chances are good that it will be soon." Mark instructed Stephan, Karl and Helga. "I want to start drying up the cow and turn the animals out in the pasture. We are too vulnerable going from the house to the barn twice a day."
The men nodded and went to do the chores and begin to fortify the homestead against trouble. Helga flew into cooking, and muttering in Kazakh. Clearly she was disturbed and unhappy to have Clora and the children gone.
Mark checked his weapons, cleaning and lightly oiling his favorite. Loaded guns were stacked around the doorways, water was drawn while the electricity was still on, and wood brought to the porch and inside as an additional layer of protection.
An hour and a half into their preparations, Mark got a phone call from the prince. "We are waiting runway clearance and your wives and children are safely here."
"I am in your debt," Mark replied. "What ever I can do to repay your kindness."
"You can stay alive. I do not fancy being shot by that small gun your wife has. She would not give it up." the prince gave a small dry laugh. "she is a very stubborn woman, you must like them that way."
"I would cross the universe to kill anyone that harmed her," Mark said in his best deadly tone. "Her or my children."
"As it should be," the prince intoned. "I must go now, we have begun to taxi out."
"Thank you," Mark said quietly in Farsi, and the prince replied in Saudi, "may Allah bless your efforts."
Wanting to be alone, Mark went into the living room and sat in his chair, staring out the window at nothing. For the first time in his life, he felt unsure and insecure. For her safety he had sent his Clora away; and she had trusted him enough to go. Now he hoped it was the right thing to do.
Nothing happened that day or night. The next morning he called Bert, informing the man that Clora and the children had been sent away for their safety.
"Oh yeah, that's kinda a strange thing for you to do," Bert was folksy-chummy, and dropped enough of a hint to tell Mark that the Marshall Service boss was under duress.
"She's going to visit friends who are closer to excellent medical care. She's almost to 24 weeks, and from here on out, every day is a major victory. I understand I can't go see her every day, but can I get clearance to be with her when the babies are born?"
"I don't know," Bert's voice almost had a touch of panic to it. "I didn't know she was leaving."
"We had been talking about it," Mark was as folksy-chummy as possible, sending the ball right back into Bert's lap.
"Oh," the word was flat and short. Bert cleared his throat and tried to turn the conversation back to Clora and the kids and where had they gone and Mark interrupted him with a made up story about something funny the cow had done. With skill he kept his boss from reaching out and fishing for the answers he wanted.
Helga came in with a cup of coffee and left it on the desk. Mark nodded his thanks and continued to parry and thrust with his boss.
"Mark! You can't be serious." Clora hissed between clenched teeth, the only time she had ever questioned one of his decisions.
Mark was about to reply when the prince said smoothly, "and the children, would they not be more comfortable staying with their Mother?" The look that flashed between the two men gave Mark all the information he needed to know. Something big was in the works, and the prince was offering Mark his considerable protection for the family.
"We are honored your Highness that you would extend your protection to our humble family. I will call the school and send Karl in to pick them up." Mark was busy making plans.
"May I suggest we pick them up on the way into town. I have meetings I need to attend and must insist that you hurry."
Once again the coded message was received and understood.
Olga was sent up stairs to get her things and Mark helped Clora down the hall to the bedroom. "Mark!" Clora hissed a second time, "What's going on?"
"I don't know for sure, but the prince was warning me to hurry you along. Please go, I've got to keep you safe along with the babies. The prince will give you the best of care and it will be a trip and an experience for the children." Mark cajoled to his best ability. "Please," he said softly when Clora got her famous mulish look and her lips pursed and her jaw stuck out in fierce determination. "Please trust us."
Mark did what any good man would do when sending his wife away and out of trouble. He kissed her thourally.
"I don't want to be there one minute longer than necessary," Clora leveled one of her 'looks' at Mark.
"I'll be there as soon as possible," he promised. "Please Love, you've got to go now."
Clora nodded. She couldn't speak for the horrible lump in her throat and the burning sting of tears she was trying to hold back. Clora patted her pocket for her gun and walked with Mark out to the second car in the procession. Olga was just as emotional and reluctant to leave; but somehow they got in the car and it sped away toward the school.
"We have got to get ready for some kind of attack. Or it might be a raid. I don't know what it's going to be, only the chances are good that it will be soon." Mark instructed Stephan, Karl and Helga. "I want to start drying up the cow and turn the animals out in the pasture. We are too vulnerable going from the house to the barn twice a day."
The men nodded and went to do the chores and begin to fortify the homestead against trouble. Helga flew into cooking, and muttering in Kazakh. Clearly she was disturbed and unhappy to have Clora and the children gone.
Mark checked his weapons, cleaning and lightly oiling his favorite. Loaded guns were stacked around the doorways, water was drawn while the electricity was still on, and wood brought to the porch and inside as an additional layer of protection.
An hour and a half into their preparations, Mark got a phone call from the prince. "We are waiting runway clearance and your wives and children are safely here."
"I am in your debt," Mark replied. "What ever I can do to repay your kindness."
"You can stay alive. I do not fancy being shot by that small gun your wife has. She would not give it up." the prince gave a small dry laugh. "she is a very stubborn woman, you must like them that way."
"I would cross the universe to kill anyone that harmed her," Mark said in his best deadly tone. "Her or my children."
"As it should be," the prince intoned. "I must go now, we have begun to taxi out."
"Thank you," Mark said quietly in Farsi, and the prince replied in Saudi, "may Allah bless your efforts."
Wanting to be alone, Mark went into the living room and sat in his chair, staring out the window at nothing. For the first time in his life, he felt unsure and insecure. For her safety he had sent his Clora away; and she had trusted him enough to go. Now he hoped it was the right thing to do.
Nothing happened that day or night. The next morning he called Bert, informing the man that Clora and the children had been sent away for their safety.
"Oh yeah, that's kinda a strange thing for you to do," Bert was folksy-chummy, and dropped enough of a hint to tell Mark that the Marshall Service boss was under duress.
"She's going to visit friends who are closer to excellent medical care. She's almost to 24 weeks, and from here on out, every day is a major victory. I understand I can't go see her every day, but can I get clearance to be with her when the babies are born?"
"I don't know," Bert's voice almost had a touch of panic to it. "I didn't know she was leaving."
"We had been talking about it," Mark was as folksy-chummy as possible, sending the ball right back into Bert's lap.
"Oh," the word was flat and short. Bert cleared his throat and tried to turn the conversation back to Clora and the kids and where had they gone and Mark interrupted him with a made up story about something funny the cow had done. With skill he kept his boss from reaching out and fishing for the answers he wanted.
Helga came in with a cup of coffee and left it on the desk. Mark nodded his thanks and continued to parry and thrust with his boss.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you so much Pac.
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Pac my hart brakes for what you are going through. I continue pray for you and Mr pac. Thank you for the new chapters Pac, the story just keeps getting better and better.
Wayne
Wayne
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#708
The fat hit the fan when Wayne called to talk with Clora, telling Mark there must be something wrong with his sister's phone. "It goes right to voice mail, and she hasn't called back," he complained.
When Mark explained what had happened, there was a long silence on the other end of the line.
"She must trust you a lot," Wayne's voice was hard edged with suspicion. "You couldn't have let us know? That's pretty rotten politics Linderman."
Mark gave an inward sigh, so he was back to being Linderman the first minute events happened that the Hanson's didn't approve of. "It only happened about five hours ago. We have been preparing for attack, and I think you should also." Mark tried to be as reasonable as possible. "I've already called Toby and Meg and alerted them to take extreme precautions, and now I'm doing the same for you and Ben. There is no evidence; so prepare or don't, at your own risk."
"Ben's not here," Wayne said shortly, giving Mark the clue as to why the brother was calling Clora. "He has some big grandiose notion he's going to become a fishing guide and take parties out on the river for pay. I can't believe he would flake out on me that way."
"Jenny thinks it's good riddance," Wayne had found a sympathetic ear and he was working Mark for all he was worth.
'Bingo,' Mark thought, now the truth comes out. The Mrs. Hanson, was bound and determined to have her own way and it probably didn't include Ben. "Well Wayne, has Ben said he was going to pull out or made demands to have you pay him back the money he invested?"
"No."
"Then I wouldn't put the cart before the horse," Mark advised. "Ben still has to find his niche in this world, and if fishing gives him purpose and a reason to get up in the morning, more power to him."
"You sound just like Clora," Wayne grumbled. "Is she really all right? How about her heart?"
"The babies are good, Clora is some weaker. The prince is well aware of the situation, and he agreed to fly a neo natal specialist in to check her over. That's better care than I could give her here in the States. With the threat of an attack looming, I couldn't take a chance that she might be harmed. Clora has Olga with her and the children; and I expect to hear from them soon, that they've landed. The pressures taking off and landing are hard on pregnant ladies, so if she can work through those with out starting labor, there is a positive prognosis. Did I tell you we were sent another urn, and that's how the prince got involved?"
When he had information, Wayne calmed down and seemed more capable of rational conversation. Suddenly out of the blue, Wayne said, "Ben is pulling away because of Jenny, isn't he?"
Mark felt his throat tighten, and as much as he wanted to give Wayne a dose of the truth, he felt Clora's hand on his arm in gentle warning.
"Oh, possibly," Mark tried for casual. "Ben is still grieving for Lainey, and being in such close contact with you and Jenny has to be a source of pain for him."
"I suppose," Wayne spoke slowly. "I want only the best for him, and I don't know how to make it happen."
"You can't," Mark said bluntly. "That's between Ben and God. He has to take the responsibility for himself in his own hands and listen to what God intends for him to be doing."
"Humm, I wonder where I've heard those very words before?" Wayne said dryly; "are you sure Clora's not there?"
"I wish with all my heart that she were," Mark had to be forceful to cover up the small emotional quiver in his voice. "Sending her away was the most painful thing I have ever done."
"Well, as long as you think she will be safe," Wayne acquiesced, "I sure don't like the thought of her being gone in her condition. What happens if she begins labor? What are you going to do then?"
"I'll go to Saudi Arabia," Mark was at his most determined. "There is no other way to handle it."
Mark knew he was taking a chance in mentioning where Clora had gone, he was sure his conversations were listened too. Now, he didn't care, at least Clora was safe. "If you would pass on to Ben where Clora has gone, it might be interesting to see if they can mind communicate over such a distance."
"Huh, yeah sure, I'll tell him," Wayne assured his brother in law. "Talk to you later." and he hung up.
The late afternoon turned dark and rainy, the black out curtains creating a stifling atmosphere. Karl went to do the milking while Stephan did the other chores.
In order to work off his nervousness and frustration, Stephan had moved all the cut and split wood from the machine shed to the porches. It was an extra layer of protection for the clan members.
"I noes like Mizz Clora's goings to that place," Helga declared in no uncertain terms. "Vhat iffs sometings muches happens, she iss so far avays."
Karl came in the door just in time to hear Helga and he gave her a censuring look.
"The worst that can happen, will be, she has the babies without me there. The prince has a heart specialist on retainer, also excellent Doctors for his family. I have to trust someone Helga, he has always been fair and honest with me."
"Buts, vhat iffs they make her vorks; she iss in no condition to bes doing anytings." Helga refused to give up her concern.
"I think Clora's greatest problem will be boredom, she won't be allowed to do anything. It will all be done for her. She is a princess, you know." Mark had to tweak Helga a little bit.
It made Karl smile, but went racing over the top of Helga's head. "Buts still, I am nots there to helps her, iss not rights." Helga had to have the last word.
"You wouldn't gave gotten on that plane," Mark teased, "it's a small jet."
"Oh's, I had forgottens abouts that. Mercy, Mercy," she was muttering softly. "Buts I vould haff for Mizz Clora's."
"I know you would have, and I thank you for your love and concern for Clora." Mark praised their cook, and Helga had a glistening sheen in her eyes. She had to get very busy stirring the pot of stew for supper.
"Now I thoughts you told me that's you vould neffer fly agains after ve got home froms the throats Doctor," Karl took up where Mark left off.
"That iss muches differents," Helga insisted. "You vould noes understands. It iss Olgas frights also; she noes likes flying. Iffs God vould haff vanted us's to do that, he vould haff givens us vings. Ve no flys and noes stays undervatters for muches good reasons. The vorld vould bes muches betters if's ve all came to understand that." That was Helga's final word on the subject.
Mark was smiling behind his coffee cup, and was ready to say something when his phone rang. It was Warren. "May I come right out to the farm?" he asked without preamble, "there is a problem."
The fat hit the fan when Wayne called to talk with Clora, telling Mark there must be something wrong with his sister's phone. "It goes right to voice mail, and she hasn't called back," he complained.
When Mark explained what had happened, there was a long silence on the other end of the line.
"She must trust you a lot," Wayne's voice was hard edged with suspicion. "You couldn't have let us know? That's pretty rotten politics Linderman."
Mark gave an inward sigh, so he was back to being Linderman the first minute events happened that the Hanson's didn't approve of. "It only happened about five hours ago. We have been preparing for attack, and I think you should also." Mark tried to be as reasonable as possible. "I've already called Toby and Meg and alerted them to take extreme precautions, and now I'm doing the same for you and Ben. There is no evidence; so prepare or don't, at your own risk."
"Ben's not here," Wayne said shortly, giving Mark the clue as to why the brother was calling Clora. "He has some big grandiose notion he's going to become a fishing guide and take parties out on the river for pay. I can't believe he would flake out on me that way."
"Jenny thinks it's good riddance," Wayne had found a sympathetic ear and he was working Mark for all he was worth.
'Bingo,' Mark thought, now the truth comes out. The Mrs. Hanson, was bound and determined to have her own way and it probably didn't include Ben. "Well Wayne, has Ben said he was going to pull out or made demands to have you pay him back the money he invested?"
"No."
"Then I wouldn't put the cart before the horse," Mark advised. "Ben still has to find his niche in this world, and if fishing gives him purpose and a reason to get up in the morning, more power to him."
"You sound just like Clora," Wayne grumbled. "Is she really all right? How about her heart?"
"The babies are good, Clora is some weaker. The prince is well aware of the situation, and he agreed to fly a neo natal specialist in to check her over. That's better care than I could give her here in the States. With the threat of an attack looming, I couldn't take a chance that she might be harmed. Clora has Olga with her and the children; and I expect to hear from them soon, that they've landed. The pressures taking off and landing are hard on pregnant ladies, so if she can work through those with out starting labor, there is a positive prognosis. Did I tell you we were sent another urn, and that's how the prince got involved?"
When he had information, Wayne calmed down and seemed more capable of rational conversation. Suddenly out of the blue, Wayne said, "Ben is pulling away because of Jenny, isn't he?"
Mark felt his throat tighten, and as much as he wanted to give Wayne a dose of the truth, he felt Clora's hand on his arm in gentle warning.
"Oh, possibly," Mark tried for casual. "Ben is still grieving for Lainey, and being in such close contact with you and Jenny has to be a source of pain for him."
"I suppose," Wayne spoke slowly. "I want only the best for him, and I don't know how to make it happen."
"You can't," Mark said bluntly. "That's between Ben and God. He has to take the responsibility for himself in his own hands and listen to what God intends for him to be doing."
"Humm, I wonder where I've heard those very words before?" Wayne said dryly; "are you sure Clora's not there?"
"I wish with all my heart that she were," Mark had to be forceful to cover up the small emotional quiver in his voice. "Sending her away was the most painful thing I have ever done."
"Well, as long as you think she will be safe," Wayne acquiesced, "I sure don't like the thought of her being gone in her condition. What happens if she begins labor? What are you going to do then?"
"I'll go to Saudi Arabia," Mark was at his most determined. "There is no other way to handle it."
Mark knew he was taking a chance in mentioning where Clora had gone, he was sure his conversations were listened too. Now, he didn't care, at least Clora was safe. "If you would pass on to Ben where Clora has gone, it might be interesting to see if they can mind communicate over such a distance."
"Huh, yeah sure, I'll tell him," Wayne assured his brother in law. "Talk to you later." and he hung up.
The late afternoon turned dark and rainy, the black out curtains creating a stifling atmosphere. Karl went to do the milking while Stephan did the other chores.
In order to work off his nervousness and frustration, Stephan had moved all the cut and split wood from the machine shed to the porches. It was an extra layer of protection for the clan members.
"I noes like Mizz Clora's goings to that place," Helga declared in no uncertain terms. "Vhat iffs sometings muches happens, she iss so far avays."
Karl came in the door just in time to hear Helga and he gave her a censuring look.
"The worst that can happen, will be, she has the babies without me there. The prince has a heart specialist on retainer, also excellent Doctors for his family. I have to trust someone Helga, he has always been fair and honest with me."
"Buts, vhat iffs they make her vorks; she iss in no condition to bes doing anytings." Helga refused to give up her concern.
"I think Clora's greatest problem will be boredom, she won't be allowed to do anything. It will all be done for her. She is a princess, you know." Mark had to tweak Helga a little bit.
It made Karl smile, but went racing over the top of Helga's head. "Buts still, I am nots there to helps her, iss not rights." Helga had to have the last word.
"You wouldn't gave gotten on that plane," Mark teased, "it's a small jet."
"Oh's, I had forgottens abouts that. Mercy, Mercy," she was muttering softly. "Buts I vould haff for Mizz Clora's."
"I know you would have, and I thank you for your love and concern for Clora." Mark praised their cook, and Helga had a glistening sheen in her eyes. She had to get very busy stirring the pot of stew for supper.
"Now I thoughts you told me that's you vould neffer fly agains after ve got home froms the throats Doctor," Karl took up where Mark left off.
"That iss muches differents," Helga insisted. "You vould noes understands. It iss Olgas frights also; she noes likes flying. Iffs God vould haff vanted us's to do that, he vould haff givens us vings. Ve no flys and noes stays undervatters for muches good reasons. The vorld vould bes muches betters if's ve all came to understand that." That was Helga's final word on the subject.
Mark was smiling behind his coffee cup, and was ready to say something when his phone rang. It was Warren. "May I come right out to the farm?" he asked without preamble, "there is a problem."
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Thanks Pac for the new chapter, praying for you and Mr pac.
Wayne
Wayne
223shootersc
Veteran Member
And Cliff shows up again, thanks Pac may GOD bless you with all your needs in this time of woe for you and yours
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, was looking forward to another chapter, thank you.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
Hey folks, I'm sorry. I fell asleep and my bandaged hand hit the wrong button and I lost the chapter. I'll do better tomorrow. Pac.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Pac hope you are all right and no head knot....
Not to plead.....
But it is tomorrow....
And could use another one of your outstanding chapters....
Texican....
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
Thank you for letting us know what is happening in your world. You are in my prayers as well. May you find comfort, peace of mind, and smooth transitions as you plan for the next move. Take care, Sis
momengineer
Senior Member
Mrs Pac- haven't been able to post, but pls know you and mr pac are continued to be in my prayers. Horrid disease.
Old Gray Mare
TB Fanatic
Its the hurt finger that gets banged. Prayers for quick healing and to keep you and Mr. Pac safe.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#709
As Mark was speaking with Warren, the elder Linderman's Rover headlights swept across the wrought iron gate and the horn beeped once.
Mark fished around in his pocket for the opener and couldn't find it, so he got up to go activate his desk control. Urging his visitors in and requesting them to hurry, Mark had to almost manhandle Warren's friend Steve, through the door. As the door lock snicked the dead bolt home, the first shot rang out, shattering the Lexan in the kitchen door.
"Down!, snuff the lights!," Mark ordered, pushing Steve to the floor and out of his way. It rained bullets on the house from all directions. "Obviously they were waiting for you to get here; all us rogue members of patriotism gathered in one place and neatly killed by unknown assailants. I can see the headlines now."
Mark had his rifle and scooted a weapon across the floor to Warren. Karl and Stephen had gone to the basement at the first shot to guard the vulnerable basement door. Helga had her trusty shotgun trained on the kitchen door and Mark sent Warren to guard the front door.
Mark attempted to arm Steve, but the man was passed out cold halfway under the table. The glass in their bedroom broke and Mark eased down the hall to catch the black clad shooter as he stepped into the hall. The rifle made a little phhpt sound with the silencer and the man dropped in his tracks. Karl and Stephen were shooting in the basement and Warren sounded like he was holding his own at the front.
There was the sound of a huge crash, as a large and meaty man threw his weight against the kitchen door, splintering the wood. Helga got him in the face with a load of number 4 buckshot, the short range making hamburger of the man's upper torso. He collapsed in the door way, uttering anguishing screams of pain. Mark finally had to shoot him once again to silence the unearthly howls.
"Muches thanks," Helga ejected her spent shell and got ready for the next intruder.
Warren was next, as they tried to breech the front door. The stacked firewood held them at bay until they chose the window next to the couch. Three men died trying to get in.
It was that way all over the house. Mark was thinking they must be fighting an army, the numbers of men coming at them were astonishing. The smell of smoke and dying men filled the air, the pitiful screams and howling and moaning was unnerving.
Then there was silence from the guns. Inside the battered house, Mark handed everyone a fresh weapon and ammo for the two they had. Quietly he roved the interior of the house, checking on the broken windows and his own soldiers for wounds.
Both Karl and Stephen had bullet creases, and they had done a superhuman effort guarding the now shattered and glassless door.
"Stay alert," Mark whispered, "I doubt this is over. One of you come with me upstairs to have Helga patch you up."
Karl sent Stephen up first, "Helga's, she vill goes muches crazy vhen she finds I have been vounded. You noes says anyting," he warned Stephen. Stephen was grasping his left arm tightly and grimacing in pain, but he never made a sound. He gladly went upstairs.
"Who do you think these idiots might be?" Mark whispered to Karl, "I sure don't recognize any of them."
"Men from Happy's tribe in the old country," Karl was pensive. "I tink they cames to avenge her shooting and to kill yous or Cloras. That von," and he pointed to a dead man in the doorway, "he iss Happy's cousin. I tink Mr. Warren's brother, he iss the von that has arranged this. He vants the blood feud to continue. I tink he iss mad, that von iss."
When it was Karl's turn to be patched up, Helga had to come to the basement, Karl couldn't walk. He had taken a bullet to his foot.
Helga had to do a bit of screaming and carrying on, before she settled down and tended to Karl. Mark went upstairs to get away from the drama, checking on Warren. "I'm OK, scared to death and my heart is racing a million miles a minute, but not hurt. How's Steve? I haven't heard a peep from him."
And they wouldn't. The very first shot through the kitchen door got Steve right in the heart. He was dead instantly.
As Mark was speaking with Warren, the elder Linderman's Rover headlights swept across the wrought iron gate and the horn beeped once.
Mark fished around in his pocket for the opener and couldn't find it, so he got up to go activate his desk control. Urging his visitors in and requesting them to hurry, Mark had to almost manhandle Warren's friend Steve, through the door. As the door lock snicked the dead bolt home, the first shot rang out, shattering the Lexan in the kitchen door.
"Down!, snuff the lights!," Mark ordered, pushing Steve to the floor and out of his way. It rained bullets on the house from all directions. "Obviously they were waiting for you to get here; all us rogue members of patriotism gathered in one place and neatly killed by unknown assailants. I can see the headlines now."
Mark had his rifle and scooted a weapon across the floor to Warren. Karl and Stephen had gone to the basement at the first shot to guard the vulnerable basement door. Helga had her trusty shotgun trained on the kitchen door and Mark sent Warren to guard the front door.
Mark attempted to arm Steve, but the man was passed out cold halfway under the table. The glass in their bedroom broke and Mark eased down the hall to catch the black clad shooter as he stepped into the hall. The rifle made a little phhpt sound with the silencer and the man dropped in his tracks. Karl and Stephen were shooting in the basement and Warren sounded like he was holding his own at the front.
There was the sound of a huge crash, as a large and meaty man threw his weight against the kitchen door, splintering the wood. Helga got him in the face with a load of number 4 buckshot, the short range making hamburger of the man's upper torso. He collapsed in the door way, uttering anguishing screams of pain. Mark finally had to shoot him once again to silence the unearthly howls.
"Muches thanks," Helga ejected her spent shell and got ready for the next intruder.
Warren was next, as they tried to breech the front door. The stacked firewood held them at bay until they chose the window next to the couch. Three men died trying to get in.
It was that way all over the house. Mark was thinking they must be fighting an army, the numbers of men coming at them were astonishing. The smell of smoke and dying men filled the air, the pitiful screams and howling and moaning was unnerving.
Then there was silence from the guns. Inside the battered house, Mark handed everyone a fresh weapon and ammo for the two they had. Quietly he roved the interior of the house, checking on the broken windows and his own soldiers for wounds.
Both Karl and Stephen had bullet creases, and they had done a superhuman effort guarding the now shattered and glassless door.
"Stay alert," Mark whispered, "I doubt this is over. One of you come with me upstairs to have Helga patch you up."
Karl sent Stephen up first, "Helga's, she vill goes muches crazy vhen she finds I have been vounded. You noes says anyting," he warned Stephen. Stephen was grasping his left arm tightly and grimacing in pain, but he never made a sound. He gladly went upstairs.
"Who do you think these idiots might be?" Mark whispered to Karl, "I sure don't recognize any of them."
"Men from Happy's tribe in the old country," Karl was pensive. "I tink they cames to avenge her shooting and to kill yous or Cloras. That von," and he pointed to a dead man in the doorway, "he iss Happy's cousin. I tink Mr. Warren's brother, he iss the von that has arranged this. He vants the blood feud to continue. I tink he iss mad, that von iss."
When it was Karl's turn to be patched up, Helga had to come to the basement, Karl couldn't walk. He had taken a bullet to his foot.
Helga had to do a bit of screaming and carrying on, before she settled down and tended to Karl. Mark went upstairs to get away from the drama, checking on Warren. "I'm OK, scared to death and my heart is racing a million miles a minute, but not hurt. How's Steve? I haven't heard a peep from him."
And they wouldn't. The very first shot through the kitchen door got Steve right in the heart. He was dead instantly.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Pac.
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Pac thanks for the chapter you and Mr. Pac are in my prayers every day.
Wayne
Wayne
Pac, thinking of and praying for both of you! Thank you so much for taking the time to share your amazing story with us!
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#710
"Helga, when you are done patching up Karl would you please build up the fire. Com'on Dad, we don't have much time before the law gets here. I want to see the identifications of these men, if they are carrying any." They were all Radjenkiovich, most likely related in some way.
"So who brought them here? None of them have passports, green cards or appear to be American citizens, so they had to have been smuggled in. Canada? Do you think?
"I would guess Karl and Stephen would most likely have a better idea of how to sneak in to the States," Warren said dryly, "I'm beginning to believe it is one of their specialties."
Stephen raised his head to stare at Warren.
"Hit a nerve, did I?" Warren continued without a pause; "Someone is funneling illegals into Portland, and I believe they are crossing the border at night, probably dropped off by single engine plane. Sound familiar?" he addressed Stephen.
Stephen looked at Karl for guidance. "Ahh, Meester Warrens," Karl replied, "yous are a muches good guesser. It is trues, that ve brings people heres to live. Iss so muches bad in the old country, people cannot lives there, always in muches fear for their lives."
"Helga, when you are done patching up Karl would you please build up the fire. Com'on Dad, we don't have much time before the law gets here. I want to see the identifications of these men, if they are carrying any." They were all Radjenkiovich, most likely related in some way.
"So who brought them here? None of them have passports, green cards or appear to be American citizens, so they had to have been smuggled in. Canada? Do you think?
"I would guess Karl and Stephen would most likely have a better idea of how to sneak in to the States," Warren said dryly, "I'm beginning to believe it is one of their specialties."
Stephen raised his head to stare at Warren.
"Hit a nerve, did I?" Warren continued without a pause; "Someone is funneling illegals into Portland, and I believe they are crossing the border at night, probably dropped off by single engine plane. Sound familiar?" he addressed Stephen.
Stephen looked at Karl for guidance. "Ahh, Meester Warrens," Karl replied, "yous are a muches good guesser. It is trues, that ve brings people heres to live. Iss so muches bad in the old country, people cannot lives there, always in muches fear for their lives."
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#710b
"I'm assuming there is a pipeline?" Mark asked as he watched the approaching red and blue lights. His phone rang, it was Aaron the now not so friendly Deputy. "Don't shoot us," he warned Mark. "What the devil has happened here now?"
"Another attack," Mark said tiredly, "I'm not sure the place is secure. The way the shooting stopped, it seemed like they withdrew; so be careful. I'll open the gate, but watch so you don't drive over the bodies."
Aaron was getting out of his cruiser and settling his hat on his head, when a rifle shot sounded from the barn, putting a neat hole in the crown of his Stetson.
Cussing up a storm, he dove behind his car and returned fire. Who ever it was, kept the Deputy pinned down for quite a while, until Mark located the muzzle flash and sent a bullet in that direction. They heard the thud as the body hit the ground, tumbling from the open mow door.
"Another one bites the dust," Mark parodied the song. "Good riddance jerk."
"Are you a fast runner?" Mark called out to Aaron, "I'm not sure that was the last one."
"In this type of situation, I can be fast," Aaron assured Mark. "Just shine your flashlight briefly on the porch steps, so I can tell where I'm at."
He was right. Aaron was fast. Inside the dark house, he asked if any one had been hurt.
"The first shot took out Steve, my Father's colleague. Karl and Stephen are hurt, and Dad and myself are OK." Mark replied. "Helga has cleaned the wounds, but they probably need to be seen by a Doctor."
"This one is pretty gruesome, what did you do Helga, use a meat tenderizer on him?" Aaron tried making a small joke to ease the tension.
"Ve uses bucks shot, I vanted to bes certain he vould die at the door." Helga was in no mood to smile or joke around, and Aaron got the message quickly.
There were so many bodies, Aaron had to call for backup help in processing the scene. Dawn was breaking when the last body from the barn was removed and stuffed in a body bag.
The house, barn and yard looked like the war zone it had been. Both dogs had been shot, as were both milk cows. Bill the work horse and Archie had been killed. The beef cows and Bob had fled to the far reaches of the pasture. They grouped up nervously and mooed in discontent, the sound carrying all the way back to the house.
Mark had been in war zones, but this was his home and that made all the difference. The early morning chill crept in the shattered windows and splintered doors, causing Helga to put more wood on the fire.
"You vants breakfasts?" Helga asked, looking at Mark for his opinion.
"Just coffee for me," Mark said absently as he stood hands in pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels. He was looking at the barn, thinking something was wrong when the smoldering fire blazed up and soon the barn was consumed in flame.
Mark and Warren went running out to move the vehicles from the machine shed and get them out of the way. The Adamson brothers were driving tractors wildly across the field on their way to help. There was no use, they must have laid accelerant down, as the barn whooshed up in a terrible roar.
The barn and the shop and the machine shed burned to the ground. "Urban renewal," Mark muttered as he surveyed the damage.
A1 Adamson looked at the destroyed house and asked, "you gonna rebuild?"
"I don't know, but I don't think so. This was the last straw."
"If you don't mind me saying so, the neighborhood would be a might more peaceful if you didn't live here." A1 drawled.
Mark just snorted. The truth hurt.
As the men stood outside, up wind of the terrible heat and smoke of the burned buildings, Mark could hear Helga inside the house sweeping up glass. The swish, swish of the broom sounding like a death song for Applewood Farm.
"I'm assuming there is a pipeline?" Mark asked as he watched the approaching red and blue lights. His phone rang, it was Aaron the now not so friendly Deputy. "Don't shoot us," he warned Mark. "What the devil has happened here now?"
"Another attack," Mark said tiredly, "I'm not sure the place is secure. The way the shooting stopped, it seemed like they withdrew; so be careful. I'll open the gate, but watch so you don't drive over the bodies."
Aaron was getting out of his cruiser and settling his hat on his head, when a rifle shot sounded from the barn, putting a neat hole in the crown of his Stetson.
Cussing up a storm, he dove behind his car and returned fire. Who ever it was, kept the Deputy pinned down for quite a while, until Mark located the muzzle flash and sent a bullet in that direction. They heard the thud as the body hit the ground, tumbling from the open mow door.
"Another one bites the dust," Mark parodied the song. "Good riddance jerk."
"Are you a fast runner?" Mark called out to Aaron, "I'm not sure that was the last one."
"In this type of situation, I can be fast," Aaron assured Mark. "Just shine your flashlight briefly on the porch steps, so I can tell where I'm at."
He was right. Aaron was fast. Inside the dark house, he asked if any one had been hurt.
"The first shot took out Steve, my Father's colleague. Karl and Stephen are hurt, and Dad and myself are OK." Mark replied. "Helga has cleaned the wounds, but they probably need to be seen by a Doctor."
"This one is pretty gruesome, what did you do Helga, use a meat tenderizer on him?" Aaron tried making a small joke to ease the tension.
"Ve uses bucks shot, I vanted to bes certain he vould die at the door." Helga was in no mood to smile or joke around, and Aaron got the message quickly.
There were so many bodies, Aaron had to call for backup help in processing the scene. Dawn was breaking when the last body from the barn was removed and stuffed in a body bag.
The house, barn and yard looked like the war zone it had been. Both dogs had been shot, as were both milk cows. Bill the work horse and Archie had been killed. The beef cows and Bob had fled to the far reaches of the pasture. They grouped up nervously and mooed in discontent, the sound carrying all the way back to the house.
Mark had been in war zones, but this was his home and that made all the difference. The early morning chill crept in the shattered windows and splintered doors, causing Helga to put more wood on the fire.
"You vants breakfasts?" Helga asked, looking at Mark for his opinion.
"Just coffee for me," Mark said absently as he stood hands in pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels. He was looking at the barn, thinking something was wrong when the smoldering fire blazed up and soon the barn was consumed in flame.
Mark and Warren went running out to move the vehicles from the machine shed and get them out of the way. The Adamson brothers were driving tractors wildly across the field on their way to help. There was no use, they must have laid accelerant down, as the barn whooshed up in a terrible roar.
The barn and the shop and the machine shed burned to the ground. "Urban renewal," Mark muttered as he surveyed the damage.
A1 Adamson looked at the destroyed house and asked, "you gonna rebuild?"
"I don't know, but I don't think so. This was the last straw."
"If you don't mind me saying so, the neighborhood would be a might more peaceful if you didn't live here." A1 drawled.
Mark just snorted. The truth hurt.
As the men stood outside, up wind of the terrible heat and smoke of the burned buildings, Mark could hear Helga inside the house sweeping up glass. The swish, swish of the broom sounding like a death song for Applewood Farm.