“Thanks, Vlad, for checking in, and I’m sorry I can’t help out on this one,” said the Colonel.
Jake and I overheard the Colonel’s last statement. Mike winked, having also heard the final verdict.
“Did he just wink?” asked Jake in a whisper.
“Yep,” I replied. “I think it means he’s going rogue sometime soon.”
Mike had Mitch and his girlfriend off to one side, and Mitch was drawing something into a notebook for him.
“These brothers are right up Mike’s alley, aren’t they?” asked Jake.
“They are the same as the last bunch, you’re right,” I responded. “I’m not sure about the children, but they are hurting women for sure, and the odds don’t really matter to him. Plus, I think he’s bored.”
“Bored?” asked Nancy, overhearing our conversation. “Do you think he likes what he’s about to do?”
“Yes,” I responded, “and I think he has to do it—first to help the victims and secondly to quiet his restless mind. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was also trying to somehow square up with God, if that’s even possible now. It’s just who he is, and I would bet the farm he’s not leaving here without at least trying to liberate this camp.”
“I’m just wondering how you and I fit in,” said Jake.
“We can be involved as much or as little as we want, and it won’t change what he does. I’m guessing we will be here for another day, at least, though.”
Ten minutes later Mike called for a meeting with a few of us.
I was getting tired after a long day and wondered if I would be up all night.
Mike ran down the specifics Mitch had given him regarding the brothers and those working for them.
“I’m going to do some recon tonight,” he added. “And before anyone asks, no, I’m not asking for volunteers to help. It’s better that I go alone. By tomorrow morning, though, I should know a lot more about their numbers and what’s really going on.”
We set up two-person night shifts, with every adult participating for hour-and-a-half-long shifts, with the exception of Mike, who was gone nearly three hours, from 9:30 p.m. until just after midnight.
I was mid-shift when he returned, seemingly unharmed.
“How did it go?” I asked, having heard no gunshots.
“I think I have a solid plan,” Mike replied. “Talk to you in the morning,” he added, disappearing towards his tent.
The night was quiet, at least inside the circle. We let Mitch and his girlfriend set up their tent just outside the ring.
At 7 a.m. we had a meeting with the same group as the night before, plus Mitch and his girlfriend.
Vlad started. “As most of you know, I had a call with my friend, the Colonel, last night, specifically regarding the matter before us. I won’t go into the entire conversation, but the bottom line is that he will not intervene at this moment.”
“Why?” asked a few.
“Doesn’t he care about what’s going on?” asked another.
“He is a military man,” continued Vlad, “and let’s just say he fights for things that would fall under his jurisdiction. He doesn’t have the time or resources to intervene in other matters. Think of many countries before the day and how they would view other regions outside of their own. They may help one, or even many, countries but they can’t help everyone.
“These people over on the lake want a better life, but they don’t want to go to the FEMA Camps, as Mitch here relayed to him. If they all did, or even most of them did, the Colonel would help them, but as he told me bluntly, we’re the only group he has any plans of helping who are wishing to remain outside the Camp walls. He has asked me not to take his time in the future with anything outside of that.”
“So, we’re on our own?” asked another.
“We always were,” I interjected. “We always were.”
“Thanks for the update, Vlad,” said Mike. “As most of you here know, or could at least guess, I did a recon mission last night, only for information. What I know is this. The three brothers have been located, and their headquarter tents are right here,” he said, pointing to the crude but detailed map in his notebook.
“The women Mitch had talked about are over here. All together and in one large tent.”
“I thought there were four brothers?” asked Nancy.
“There are, and the last one is over there,” he pointed towards the lake’s edge to a single two-man tent that I hadn’t seen yesterday. It seemed to shake but it was 30 yards from our camp, so I couldn’t be sure.
“Is that the married one?” asked Lonnie, not surprised Mike had brought back a trophy of sorts.
“Yep, that’s the one, and he should be quieted down enough now for a little talk. Be right back,” he announced and headed down to the lake’s edge.
We all watched as he opened the tent and brought the terrified but seemingly unharmed man, with his hands bound and mouth gagged, up to our camp.
“He knows where we are now,” said someone in our group behind me.
“They’ve known about us since the minute we pulled in,” replied Mike. “Isn’t that right?”
His captive nodded his head up and down.
“This here is the youngest of the Gradlen brothers. He ran auto dealerships in Pueblo—until recently, that is. When his father died a couple of years back, he was named CEO of the company, and as you can imagine, his brothers weren’t happy about it. Fast forward to just a few weeks ago, and they all came out to the lake. His brothers started collecting guns and anything of value from families hoping to ride this thing out here as well. They recruited men, starting with a few of their former employees and
