Joshua (Book 2): Traveler by John S. Wilson Page A

morning.
    Both of them came back before daylight, Rob let them get some sleep and got them up for breakfast. When everyone had their fill, it was time for school to begin.
    Alton was teaching today, “Well, Rob, that refugee wasn’t lying, this one’s going to be a lot tougher than those two women were.”
    Rob was a little too positive for this early in the morning, “That’s all right. It’ll be worth it ... if that guy was right about all they had.”
    “We couldn’t see anything they had inside, but I can tell you the outside is going to be a bitch.”
    Rob’s optimism was already wearing thin. “Okay, let’s hear the ugly details.”
    “They’ve set up inside an old drainage pipe, reinforced concrete with about four feet of dirt and a layer of asphalt on top of that. The pipe is five feet in diameter and about fifty feet long, it runs under that highway right before that on-ramp.” Alton started sketching out a map on his tablet. “Look here, each end of the pipe has a concrete highway divider pushed up against it, it covers most of both openings. They’re really shielded from gunfire. That pipe is an excellent defensive position too, each end has an unobstructed view for at least two hundred meters. They do have a blind spot, though, the road right on top of them, but they’ve taken care of that as well. There on the highway they’ve arranged three more of those dividers into a triangle. They have a guard up there all the time. Whoever is up there has a three hundred sixty degree view for at least two hundred meters too. They’ll see us coming long before we get there.”
    “Could we take that guard out with a sniper?”
    “Yes, but they would still know we’re coming long before we got there. No way to fix that problem.”
    “How many are we talking about, anyway?”
    It was obvious Alton wasn’t sure. “We never did get an exact count. It’s dark in there and they have the tunnel sectioned off with curtains. They always had a guard there on top and at least one of the entrances covered. My guess is six. It’s seems to be one family living there, an older couple, probably the grandparents, another couple in their forties, and two younger girls.”
    “That would jibe with what that roadie told us, he said six or seven.” Rob turned to McCain, “What about you, McCain? Agree or disagree with that estimate?”
    McCain was also not sure. “No, that’s probably right. There might be seven but six would be my guess too.”
    Robert’s enthusiasm was now completely gone, “Okay, it’s probably six but we’ll assume seven for our plans. This is the toughest one we’ve seen in a while. I hate to give it up, that guy said it was jammed with food.”
    But Alton still had hope, “Yes it is tough, but McCain and I did discover one weak spot.”
    He had Rob’s attention again. “What?”
    Alton smiled, “Water. They’ve diverted the drainage so water wouldn’t run through the pipe anymore. Now they have to go to a small creek about a hundred meters north of the highway. It runs parallel with the road and it’s just this side of a thick stand of trees,” he quickly sketched it out on the tablet.
    “So maybe we could take some hostages, just like the other day?” Rob was now smiling too.
    “My thoughts exactly.”
    Rob started drawing on Alton’s tablet, “Okay, here’s what we do ...”
    They made their plan, rehearsed it over and over through the day, and when the sun was nearly down they put it in motion. As darkness covered the world, Coyote – Alton leading Cornwell, D’Cruz, and Rudd – moved out, finally finding a good hiding spot in the trees north of the stream. Jackal – McCain with Martinelli – set up their rifles, covering the north side of the bunker, while Wolf – Rob, Peavey, and the boys – moved in a little closer to cover the south side.
    Nothing happened during the night; they took turns resting, and waiting. As the sun came up things started stirring.
    Two