Lars arrived at Martin’s refinery just twenty minutes later. He was impressed to see that their security had not slackened in the three years since the Crunch began.
Seated in his office, L. Roy said, “Thanks for coming, Lars.”
Martin paused, looking a bit anxious, and said, “You once mentioned that you’re Finnish, but your given name is Lars. That’s Norwegian, right?”
“Well, my dad was full-blooded Finnish, and my mom was mostly Swedish: her maiden name was Bardgard. So that’s why I ended up with a Swedish given name and a Finnish surname.
Martin replied, “Oh, I see. I’ve heard that the Finnish language is something unique, isn’t that right?”
“Yeah. The Finns are sorta the black sheep of Scandinavia. The language is completely different from Swedish, Norwegian, Icelandic, or Danish. It’s what is called a ‘Finno-Ugric’ language. The languages closest to it are Estonian and Hungarian. That’s because-though they don’t like to admit it-the Finns are actually the descendants of the Mongol Hordes. So it’s no wonder that the rest of Scandinavia doesn’t know how to relate to the Finns. It’s like you’re living in the suburbs, and then the Genghis Khan family moves in next door. That was about nine centuries back.”
Laine paused, and then added: “Your man said you had something important to discuss.”
Martin nodded. “Yes. I had a conversation on the forty-meter ham band with a gent in Prescott, Arizona. He said he had a crucial security concern to discuss. Then he made a very unusual request. He asked if we had anyone here that spoke Navajo. I said yes, and just a few minutes later I put one of my Navajo employees on the radio. Then his man and my man started yammering back and forth-you know, like the code talkers that were used back in World War Two.”
Laine nodded.
“Okay, so after the translation was done, here was their message in a nutshell: They said that the big La Fuerza looter gang we’ve been hearing all those rumors about is headed toward Prescott. It’s supposedly now more than two hundred men strong, and they have somewhere around fifty vehicles.”
Laine let out a whistle.
L. Roy continued: “The folks in Prescott asked us to send help-to assist in whittling them down. There are some combat veterans from Tuba City and from Gallup-mostly Navajos-who already agreed to help, and they’ll be heading to Prescott in a couple of days. They asked us to send at least six men. It’s a bit risky, but I can see the wisdom of confronting La Fuerza now, before they are in our backyard. To my mind, this is sorta like Bush’s War on Terror strategy: ‘Go beat them up somewhere else so that we don’t have to face them on our own soil.’ I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, La Fuerza is a bunch of
Lars again nodded and said, “Yeah, I’ve heard about their track record: brutal, unrestrained, unrepentant.”
Martin leaned forward. “I think that it is wise to go out there, and do some attrition, and most importantly to try to take out their armored vehicles. Without those, La Fuerza will lose a lot of their combat effectiveness.” He sighed and then continued, “So, through my code talker, I immediately promised to send eight men, three hundred gallons of gasoline, and at least one hundred and fifty Molotov cocktails.”
Lars nodded and Martin said, “I need a man to be the team leader for the team representing Bloomfield and Farmington. I estimate that it’ll be just a ten-day trip at most. You get in there, you kick some tail, and you get out. You’d need to get the team on the road within three days.”
Before Lars Laine could comment, L. Roy continued, “Here’s the deal: If you take this job, I’ll pay you ten ounces of gold and a transferable, non-expiring credit for five thousand gallons of any fuel we produce here-even kerosene. You’ll get five ounces of gold up front and five upon completion, plus the fuel credit. Each of the other men I pick will get about two-thirds of what I’m offering you.”
Lars cocked his head and said, “That’s a lot of risk for that sort of pay.”
“You’ve got to recognize that it is your own best interest just as much as mine to see this threat removed or reduced. I have no doubt that Bloomfield is pretty high up on their target list. As we’ve discussed before, my refinery is an obvious plum, an obvious target. You know their modus operandi: if they come here, everyone living inside a thirty-mile radius will be at risk. Maybe even much farther than that. And since we’ve got gas and oil wells, we face an even bigger risk, which is that they’ll come and want to
Laine tipped his head and answered, “I concur. But even if we do this and we’re successful, there will be a lot of lead flying in both directions. So I’ll stand a good chance of assuming room temperature. That would leave my wife a widow, with no means of support.”
Martin nodded and offered, “So then let me add this: you have my word of honor that if you or any of our men don’t come home from this, or if you’re disabled, then I’ll quadruple your compensation. You’ll have that in writing.”
Lars let out a breath and said seriously, “Okay, but just one more thing: if I can help pick the team and
41
The Team
“Believe in your cause. The stronger your belief, the stronger your motivation and perseverance will be. You must know it in your heart that it is a worthwhile cause and that you are fighting the good fight. Whether it is the need to contribute or the belief in a greater good, for your buddy, for the team or for your country, find a reason that keeps your fire burning. You will need this fire when the times get tough. It will help you through when you are physically exhausted and mentally broken and you can only see far enough to take the next step.”
The next few days were hectic as Lars gathered his team and logistics. First on the list was borrowing a pair of crew cab pickup trucks, both with fifth-wheel-type trailer hitches, a horse trailer for one of them, and a flatbed trailer for the other. The owners gladly loaned them, knowing that they’d be helping to keep a looter army from invading their region. For impromptu camouflage, the trucks and the trailers were all hastily painted flat tan, with a few large irregular blotches in flat brown. This was done at the Garza Auto Collision shop in Aztec. Lars told Honore Garza to rush the job and specifically not to worry about overspray: “We don’t want any sharp lines or any distinct contrast: these have to blend in.” Garza took that literally, so there was paint on the edges of the windows, and even the tire sidewalls and license plates were painted tan.
Laine picked seven members, all military veterans, and most of them experienced horse riders. Six of them were ex-Army-including a medic-and one was a former Marine. All had served at least one combat tour in Iraq or Afghanistan and had combat arms specialties.
Four of them-Brian Baugh, Pat Redmond, Chad Stenerson, and Dave Escobar-were refinery employees. The other three were Bob Potts (a friend of the Laines from church), Johanna Visser (a South African-born former Army nurse who had more recently worked as an EMT), and Hector Ruiz (a friend of L. Roy Martin who he’d met through the local Rotary Club). With the exception of Laine, everyone on the team was single or divorced, and most had been E-4s or E-5s when they left the military. Hector Ruiz had been a tank commander and had left the army as an E-7. Ruiz was about Laine’s age. Lars had briefly toyed with the idea of including Shadrach Phelps in the team, but given his lack of combat experience he decided against it. He also rejected the idea of his brother Andy going on the mission. In the event that Lars didn’t return, someone would have to see after the ranch.
Two of the men had their own horses, and two had loaners. All were geldings or mares picked for good temperaments and dark markings. As Lars put it, “Paint horses need not apply.” Lars would ride Reuben’s horse,
