“I have not seen it, but it sounds good,” said David. “I’m just a looker today, though. I want to head into town and see Mark one more time tonight. I can take my four-wheeler.”
“You’ll take a beating on those ribs,” said Jason. “We will take a look at the still and James may even give you a bottle to take with you. Then I’ll drive you to town in the truck.”
“I’ll send you home with a whole case,” added in James. “My biggest customer was Judge Lowry, and he stopped buying last Saturday. We’ve got more than we know what to do with now. I’ll need your help getting up there, both of you,” added James.
“Sure thing. And a case sounds good to me; I can give Mel something he doesn’t already own. Put it on my hotel tab, and I’ll pay when I check out, if that’s okay?”
“It’s not like that around here, or up at your place, I hear,” said James. “No tabs amongst friends.”
David was impressed with the efficiency of the still and complimented James on the construction.
“I had some help with it, for sure,” James replied.
“Would you look at that?” pointed James, once they were on the roof.
Four hot air balloons slowly crossed the horizon, heading towards the ranch.
“Should we be concerned?” asked Jason, gripping his rifle.
“Nah,” said James. “I recognize two of them. The red one there has the car dealership logo on it and the greenish-yellow one next to it has some hotshot law firm name, if I remember. I think they’re just out for a flight, or a float, whatever the official term is. Besides, not a lot of people can fly one of those things.”
“They scare the daylights out of me,” said Jason. “Always hitting power lines or floating away, never to be seen again!”
“Never?” asked David.
“Just what I heard is all,” replied Jason, now thinking it sounded dumb coming out of his mouth. “Everything is found eventually, that’s right,” he said aloud.
“I’m just joking with you,” said David. “Feel free to tell me to shut up!
“Please hand me my binoculars, Jason, and take a look through your scope down at those trucks there,” James said, pointing.
“I got them,” said Jason.
“Me too,” replied David, looking through his own scope a hundred yards away on the road.
“Probably just following the balloons, like they do in case they have to pick them up before the landing spot,” said James, focusing his binoculars.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Thirty
Weston, Colorado
“Maybe cancel that thought!” James said, as all three saw the beds of both trucks filled with men wearing masks of varying colors and all carrying rifles.
Pop! Pop! Pop! could be heard, as puffs of smoke rose from the trucks, not slowing pace.
“Wait a minute! Are they shooting at the balloons?” asked David.
“Surely not!” said James, watching in horror as the shots fired increased, and two of the baskets rocked side-to-side. “Those people up there are sitting ducks; they can’t go fast or high enough to get away!” said James, raising his own rifle. “They’re just laughing, the shooters, like it’s a round of skeet.”
“No, no, no!” called out Jason, looking at a man hanging off the side of the red balloon’s basket.
“What’s he doing? He can’t jump—he’ll never make it!” cried David.
Others in the balloon were seen trying to pull him back in. Every time he would gain an inch, he was hit with a random bullet. After a few quickly fired, he dropped, flailing his arms and legs on the way down.
“We can’t let these people get slaughtered!” said James. “How many rounds do we have up here, Jason?”
“Uh, hold on,” he said, fumbling with the keys to the locked roof trunk. “Let’s see. We’ve got two or three hundred rounds for ours, and what’s your caliber, David?”
“.223,” he replied.
“Okay, we have you covered too.”
“All right,” said James. “Janice will keep everyone inside when she hears the shooting, but we can’t let them get up to the house. Ready? Pick any guy and drop him. They’re zigzagging a lot with crazy turns, so lead them just a bit and keep your heads down. Okay…now!” he commanded, opening fire.
The men in both trucks were confused at first, believing it was return fire from the balloons. They kept firing into the sky, but some were now ducking, and both drivers skidded to a stop.
All three men on James’ rooftop deck uttered the phrase “Man down” after only a minute.
“We’ve got loaded magazines by your feet, gentlemen,” said Jason.
“Don’t let them get up to the house,” said James. “I’ll shoot every round we’ve got if we have to.”
It didn’t take long for the shooters to realize where the crossfire originated. The ones left looked like about ten, including the drivers and half of the original bunch.
“Here we go! Watch your heads!” called out James.
An array of steel projectiles hit the rooftop’s outer layer, with more zinging overhead.
“Watch those trucks,” called out James. “I don’t want anyone sneaking off and coming through our back door later.”
The shooters, apparently without spare mags, reloaded all about the same time, picking up random shells scattered about the truck beds.
“They are reloading. Hit them hard!” said James. “Take the trucks out for sure.”
James glanced up to where the balloons were and saw only two moving far off in the distance.
“I only see two. There are two,” he called out.
Both trucks, riddled with bullets, didn’t move. Smoke poured from the radiator of one, and the other crept at maybe two miles per hour.
The remaining heads popped up at nearly the same time, and James with his company did what needed to be done.
“Grab the truck, Jason, and throw my old chair in the back; we’ll cover you,” said James. “Come pick us up, and let’s find those balloons. It looks like we’ve got
