“You aren’t here to think,” Cory snarled. “I’ve been a part of Strong Foot since before you were born. You don’t question me, understand?”
“Yes, Cory,” Tony said quickly.
Cory glared at the others. “Any other cowards want to speak up? Maybe you’re too scared to do the right thing tomorrow. Maybe you’re just little boys who can’t handle standing up for your country. Is that it?”
Everyone shook their heads.
“Either you’re with me, and our great nation, or you’re against me. So which is it?”
“We’re with you,” all ten men said at the same time.
“Damn straight you are. And tomorrow we’ll show the world that the Strong Foot Militia isn’t to be messed with. No more signs. No more words. We’ll use the weapons we brought and that we’ve acquired since we’ve been here. If the military thinks they’re the only ones with firepower, they’re gonna find out how wrong they are. Right?”
“Right!”
“Damn straight!”
“Hell yeah!”
“Can’t wait to finally get to shoot!”
“We gonna get to use the RPG?” Brody asked.
Cory smiled at the young blond. He was only seventeen, but he showed the most promise out of everyone he’d handpicked for this mission. He had a hatred in his heart that matched Cory’s. The military had fucked over his dad, as well, and he was willing to do anything necessary to get payback. He almost regretted that the kid would mostly likely die, but his death would fuel his two brothers to follow in his footsteps for sure.
Everything Cory did was for the greater good, and Brody dying at the hands of their own government would surely make others like them around the country rise up in retaliation.
“Oh yeah,” Cory told Brody. “We’re definitely going to use the rocket-propelled grenade tomorrow.”
Brody smiled huge. “Awesome.”
“So, here’s the plan…” Cory began, explaining everyone’s role in the next day’s activities. “Any questions?”
Everyone shook their heads, and Cory turned and rummaged in his bag, pulling out a fresh bag of weed he’d bought that morning and holding it up.
Everyone cheered. It had been a while since they’d had some really primo pot. As everyone got to work rolling joints, Cory sat back and watched with a satisfied smile on his face. It was the least he could do for the boys. After all, some were going to die for the cause, even if they didn’t know it. He might as well let them have some fun.
Tomorrow would be the start of a brand new-world…just not for all of them.
Chapter Nineteen
“You see the younger guys?” Grover asked no one in particular the next morning as they stood at their positions near the front gate.
There were the usual few dozen men standing with their signs and heckling those arriving and leaving the post, but Cory—and the younger men who were always at his side—weren’t anywhere to be seen.
“No clue,” Doc said.
“Something isn’t right,” Grover muttered.
“You feel it too?” Brain asked.
Grover nodded. The men who were there that morning were merely going through the motions. They weren’t as energetic as the younger group, nowhere near as vocal as they were when Cory was with them.
“I’m gonna enjoy the break from their blabbering,” Lucky said with a disgusted snort. “Maybe if we’re lucky, they’re thinking about moving on.”
“We can only hope,” Brain agreed.
The morning went by fairly smoothly, and Grover was glad when just before lunchtime, they were relieved by Trigger, Lefty, and Oz.
“Any trouble?” Trigger asked.
“Nope. The protestors who showed up this morning were pretty subdued,” Lucky said.
“Thank God,” Lefty replied. “I’m sick to death of this shit.”
“Same,” Doc agreed.
“Grover?” Trigger asked.
“Yeah?”
“Try to relax this afternoon. You’ve seemed really tense the last few days.”
Grover nodded. “I will.”
“And tell Sierra hi for us. Gillian was really thankful she could help her out today, especially since one of her assistants is home sick.”
“I will,” Grover promised, before heading for Doc’s Durango. He’d driven them all up to the front gate, and he’d take them back to the office before they went their separate ways.
Within ten minutes, Grover was headed back toward the gate in his own vehicle. He waved at Trigger and the others as he passed, glaring at the men who were still holding their signs and harassing people.
He drove straight to the grocery store and headed inside to get everything he needed to make a decadent steak and lobster dinner for Sierra. He still wanted to get them that pizza he talked about while they were in Afghanistan, but for tonight, he wanted to spoil her with surf and turf. After getting the ingredients for a fresh salad, he headed toward the back of the store. There was a fairly long line at the butcher’s section, and Grover waited impatiently for his turn. He went by the ice cream freezers on his way to the check-out and grabbed some of the double dark chocolate caramel ice cream bars Sierra liked so much.
Thinking about the upcoming evening made the tension in Grover ease a bit. He was looking forward to some quiet time with Sierra and trying to put some of the tension of the last week behind him.
He felt his phone vibrate briefly on his hip but ignored it since he was driving. If it was an emergency, whoever was texting him would’ve actually called instead.
It was a warm day, like usual, but Grover knew storms were in the forecast for later. He’d never been afraid of tornados, but now that Sierra was living with him, he decided he needed to look into getting an emergency shelter put in. He had plenty of room on his property to bury a storm shelter. Better safe than sorry.
He was lost in his thoughts about the possibility of tornados, and where he and Sierra would go in case one blew through, as he drove down his long driveway. The sight of his house and barn went a long way toward making him feel even more relaxed.
Until Sierra had practically moved in, he’d considered the place his refuge, but still just a house. She’d made it something even more special. A home.
Grover pushed the button to open the garage door and pulled inside. Glancing down, he reached for his phone to read the text that he’d received while driving.
Before he could unlock his phone, his door was wrenched open and something hard was pressed against the side of his head.
“Don’t move, soldier boy, or I’ll put this bullet through your skull.”
Grover froze.
Fuck.
He saw several of the young men he recognized from the militia swarm around the front of his car. Each and every one of them was armed to the teeth, holding semiautomatic weapons and with rifles slung over their shoulders.
Grover now understood why they hadn’t been protesting outside the gates of the post that morning. They were here, waiting to ambush him.
Carefully, so as not to alarm Cory, whose voice he recognized, Grover raised his arms, showing the militia leader that he was unarmed.