Hunting Indians - Chapter 10

Chapter One can be found here: https://steemit.com/fiction/@andrewgenaille/hunting-indians-chapter-one

Chapter 9: https://steemit.com/fiction/@andrewgenaille/hunting-indians-chapter-9

1. Chapter 10

Two days had passed since they found out where the Indians went and Ryan was chomping at the bit to go after them. If it were up to him the military reserves and Agents would be walking north right now. Unfortunately he's not in charge so they've told him to wait for approval from Ottawa. The only plus he saw in that would be the use of helicopters.
So they sent him home to his apartment and told him to be patient which was not a word in his vocabulary. He played hours upon hours of video games, worked out with the weights and went a few rounds with the speed bag in the corner. The whole situation was irritating to him.
When the sun went down on the second night, Ryan put on his good outfit, black T-shirt, jeans with a knee length leather jacket and headed out into the city. His destination was The Den, a bar almost down town on Hastings Street. It was one of the darker bars that played heavy rock to metal type music. Ryan wasn't a fan but the bar served a purpose for him.
It was only ten o'clock but the place was already packed with people in leather and jeans dancing around, drinking and shouting at each other. Most of the people were heavily pierced, hair dyed different shades of colours, and had tattoos related to death on display. By comparison Ryan looked like an uptight suburbanite that took a wrong turn somewhere but he was also the only person there that had actually committed mass murder.
Ryan spotted who he was looking for at the bar sipping her beer. She was chatting with some skin-head with a swastika tattooed on the side of his head. Her name was Allison and she dressed in heeled boots, a tight black skirt that went just above her knees and a blouse that was all cleavage. Her dark hair was slicked back down to her ass.
Ryan moved up to the bar between Allison and the skinhead. He held up a small vial of cocaine. "How about you come hang out with me?"
Allison tilted her head and smiled. The skinhead had the opposite reaction. "Hey, the girl’s with someone."
"Yeah, how about you fuck off." Ryan made a suggestion, not a question.
"Or maybe I kick your ass."
"Yeah?" Ryan turned fully to the other and sized him up. The skin-head had more bulk and a few inches on him.
"Don't man, don't mess with this one." The Skinhead’s friend said from the other side of him.
"Yeah, listen to your friend." Ryan said and turned back to Allison.
"Hey buddy..." The Skinhead grabbed Ryan's shoulder to turn him around. Ryan grabbed Allison's beer bottle and spun around so it smashed over the guys' tattoo. Ryan dropped the remains of the bottle and started punching the other man until he was on the ground covered in blood. The skin-head curled up to protect his head.
Ryan stepped back and wiped his fists off as he noticed others in the area watching him. He smiled and turned back to Allison. "So?"
"Yeah."
Allison's apartment was on the fifth floor of a pay by the week building a few blocks away. It was a bedroom with a kitchen built into it while the living room was a chair and television in the corner. The place was a mess of clothes and papers. The walls had posters taped up and pamphlets pushing the white race.
The sex was like the rest of his night, fast and violent. Ryan wasn't there for companionship, he was there to get out his built up aggression and Allison was good for that. She loved it.
Afterwards she was spread out on the bed, as he got dressed while he looked over the pamphlets.
"We're getting there." Ryan chuckled as he pulled on his shirt.
"They've said that before," She said, rolling to look at him. "I'll believe it when I see it."
"When? When did they say that?" Ryan looked at her as she laid on her back again.
"Oh, a hundred years ago. British Columbia was on its way to being a whites only province. Laws were in place, they had rules so we could keep chinks out and Indians in their place." Allison sighed, "It must've been paradise."
Ryan crawled on the bed toward her, sucking on her nipple before he moved up to kiss her on the lips. "It will be again."
"Like I said." She said. "I'll believe it when I see it."
Ryan smirked, kissed her again and headed back to his own place.
Ryan stretched out on his bed but didn't fall asleep until two in the morning. He woke up when his phone rang three hours later.
The word from back east was 'go.'

Ryan knocked on the front door of Mark’s house a few hours later. This time he was dressed in more comfortable wear for the outdoors but still dark colours. He also held a carton with three cups of coffee on it. This he presented to Amanda when she answered the door. "I come bearing gifts."
"It's the weekend." Amanda said. She was in shorts and a blouse for working in the yard.
"Some things can't wait until Monday." Ryan stepped into the house. "Where's the big guy?"
"Kitchen." Amanda followed Ryan as he moved through the house. "Is it something big?"
"Oooh my dear," Ryan turned back to her. "We're about to fix all our problems today." He spun around again and went into the kitchen where Mark sat at the island eating a ham sandwich.
"Hey?" Mark said as he looked up.
"Come on guy, get dressed. We're going hunting." Ryan put the coffee in front of Mark, who looked to Amanda.
"It's the weekend, we don't schedule hunts on the weekend."
"We do when it's this big. We've got forty agents of our own, another fifty coming in from Edmonton, seven hundred reserves and we're all going up the river by boat. And I want you there up front. So get dressed, get your game face on and we'll hit the road."
"Alright." Mark agreed, standing up and wolfing the last of his food down.
"Hold on, no." Amanda stepped forward. "He's not ready to go out again. He's still healing."
"It's not going to be dangerous." Ryan stated.
"No, a bunch of armed men out in the bush hunting other armed men, that doesn't sound dangerous at all." Amanda gave Ryan a sarcastic look.
"See, this is why I'm not married."
"Yeah, this is the reason, darling." Amanda looked to Mark. "You're still not breathing right. I can hear it when you're sleeping."
"I'm fine," Mark raised his shirt. The bruising was purple and yellow now. "Fine enough to ride a boat."
Mark started for the living room as Amanda looked to Ryan, but he only shrugged back at her. Amanda followed Mark up stairs as Ryan picked at the food that was left on the counter while he waited.
He moved into the living room and wondered if he could pull off the life in the suburbs, a wife, kids, picket fence and maybe a dog. The more he thought about it though the more he was bored by the idea, being stuck in one place, sleeping with the same woman night after night. Even the thought of kids bugged him. He had two already and from what he saw of them he wouldn't have the patience.
Amanda came down the stairs with Mark behind her as she went up to Ryan. "You make sure he stays safe. I like the idea of him staying on the boat and mopping up after if he has to."
"No, he's safe. I'll watch his back." Ryan was wide eyed honest.
"And this is necessary?"
"Yes." Mark answered as he put on his jacket. "There's a psycho out there, and if we don't take him out he's going to keep trying to kill us. And whether I want to or not doesn't matter, this is what I have to be doing. So please, just...just let me go."
"Okay." Amanda agreed but like she had been shot. "Be safe."
"Thank-you," Mark kissed her but she gave him her cheek. He paused and nodded to Ryan. The two of them left the house and headed for the car.
"She's a bitch today?" Ryan said as he started the car.
"That's my wife." Mark put his foot down.
"I'm just saying, why are you letting her tell you what you can and can not do. That's messed up."
"Just drive the car." Mark settled in for the long drive.

Eighty boats headed up the river from The Department of Indian Control. Some borrowed from the Department of Fisheries and Oceans, some from the military, all loaded with people in green uniforms. Ryan sat in the front seat of the lead zodiac feeling the mist from the river on his face, feeling the power that came with the support of military personal.
It wasn't his first choice though. He would've loved the option of full time service men and transport helicopters but the PMO's Rep only allowed him the Military Reserve members already assigned to the Department and none of them were trained for repelling. That didn't stop him from enjoying his moment.
Nearly a thousand armed white men and women were making their race proud.
It was several hours up river moving against the current before they came to a wide bend in the waterway. The zodiacs and boats pulled up to the shoreline and killed their engines, as one by one the soldiers hopped out to tie them up to trees. Ryan watched as they took up nearly half a kilometer of shoreline before people started unloading.
"We figure they're four kilometers in," Ryan said to Mark at his side and Sergeant Grayson in front of him. "They'll want to be close enough to the river for food but far enough back we can't spot them."
"We can form small squads, spread out some and just comb the forest. We won't miss 'em." Grayson said. He was an athletic man in his thirties. Normally he taught gym at the local high school but volunteered his time to keep the Indians in line.
"That works for me." Ryan agreed. Grayson moved off and started handing out orders to the Master Corporals, who gave it to the corporals and down the line. Ryan looked over at Mark loading his AR-15. "You think we get a bonus for each one we hunt down."
"No." Mark said as a matter of fact. Ryan's joke was lost on him.
Ryan noticed Grayson watching him.
"We're looking for a girl, long haired Indian about this tall..." Ryan held his hand up to his shoulder. "Karen, she's in charge. Make sure everybody knows that she's to be shot on sight. Let's move 'em out."
Grayson whistled for everybody's attention and made a circle with his hand in the air before pointing at the bushes. The giant line of men began moving forward.
Ryan had his phone strapped to the underside of his wrist with the map showing the area; he checked it constantly over the next two hours of walking. The group traveled four kilometers through the dense groupings of giant oak trees.
Mark stayed back a bit and let this be Ryan's operation, mostly because he didn't want to get in the way but he also grew tired of the other’s dumb remarks.
Ryan stopped up ahead and motioned for the others to do the same. Those around him searched the area he designated. They began to move forward but slower.
Grayson whistled and motioned to Ryan and Mark. When he had their attention he moved some sod aside to reveal a small sleeping hut dug into the ground. There was an old sleeping bag and leather pouches for water.
"Okay." Ryan said softly, "We're on top of them, everybody stay alert."
Grayson touched the voice mic attached to his neck and when he spoke, it reached out to all his squad leaders via ear buds. "Grayson to all; we have signs of life. We're at target zone."
Ryan and Mark brought their rifles up to their shoulders and continued moving forward, bending their knees to absorb sound. Grayson and the nine soldiers with him spread out further with their weapons up.
Ryan indicated toward a pit house opening next to a tree. It was a large bump in the ground with a two-foot opening and went down five feet before opening up underground into a sleeping area. Grayson nodded and singled to his Corporal who moved forward with another Trooper at his side.
The Corporal dropped to a knee next to the opening while his assistant did the same on the other side. The Assistant brought out a halogen flashlight, counted to three and aimed it into the hole as the Corporal aimed his rifle. Instantly a shotgun fired from the opening and hit the Corporal in the chest.
"Ambush!" Someone screamed from up the way, as Natives hidden around the trees opened fire.
"Take cover!" Grayson yelled as he dropped behind a tree and aimed. He hit his radio. "Contact, contact. Multiple targets in grid 32. Converge around formation."
Ryan darted to his right and slid as if taking home plate behind a tree, he kept his head down as the military personal began returning fire. Ryan counted down from five and aimed around the tree. At first he didn't see anything but muzzle flashes about fifteen meters away.
He targeted flashes coming from some blackberry bushes and emptied his magazine toward it.
"Tight, controlled bursts." Mark yelled at Ryan from where he took cover. "Or you're going to have more Indians than you have bullets."
"Fubar. Fubar." The soldier cowering to Mark's left shouted into a radio.
"Shoot back dickhead." Ryan yelled at the Solder as he reloaded. Ryan laid down and moved around the tree to find another target, this time listening to Mark by firing three rounds at a time.
"You. Two. Move around, flank to the right!" Grayson shouted at two of his underlings, "You, point east and don't let them flank up."
The soldiers moved quickly to their new positions and opened fire.
Ryan saw movement and followed a Native as the Indian darted for another angle. Ryan fired and the Native dropped behind a dirt pile, but left a red mist where he had been.
"What's the situation here?" Mark yelled.
Grayson held his ear bud in deep as he listened and looked to Ryan and Mark. "We've got skirmishes all up and down this tree line..."
"Fire in the hole!" The Corporal's assistant yelled as he tossed a grenade into the pit house, a split second later an Indian came racing out but only made it part way before the detonation. The assistant fired a few rounds into the corpse to make sure.
Grayson watched and then went back to his briefing. "It's not too bad. I've got my men coming around. We'll get them in a cross fire!"
The shooting from the Natives stopped. The military continued to fire.
"Cease fire! Cease fire!" Ryan howled. The gunfire quit as he scanned the forest only to see the Indians ran off but at angles that the trees are their cover. "They're taking off! Move up, move up."
"Do we have a cease fire?" Grayson asked into his mic and listed for an answer. "Advance. Move ahead."
Grayson and his group began moving forward as Ryan moved in a crouch; Mark came up the rear using the trees to lean on as he kept his breathing under control.
As a unit they walked another twenty meters, passing the bodies of the Indians that weren't lucky to get away. Mark leaned next to a fifteen year old Native holding his rifle where he died.
Ryan checked to see if he got the one behind the dirt pile and found the body on its back. The eyes stared off into nothing. Ryan smirked.
Another fifteen meters and the Indians opened fire again as one. It was just enough distance for the military personal to spread out from their cover. Several men in green dropped to the ground, a few dead while others screamed for help. Those lucky enough to reach cover started firing back into the trees.
The firefight went on for another half-hour, as the Natives would retreat a certain distance and wait. Each time they went further before stopping, forcing the military to follow. The soldiers grew more cautious as they progressed. Their nerves became taunt, as even the smallest twig snap would make them flinch.
Ryan stretched out as he loaded another magazine into his rifle. He looked over as Grayson lowered down next to him. "We're going to loose them."
"What?"
"Each time they get further away, eventually they're just going to take off and we're going to be crawling after them." Grayson said. Ryan shrugged. "I've got two drones on stand bye that can end this right now but it's going to fuck up your budget."
"Do it! Do it! Do I look like an accountant? I don't give a shit about budgets." Ryan rolls onto his front to aim.
"Grayson two two one bee, to nest, read me." Grayson yelled into his microphone as Ryan watched him. "Grayson two two one bee, to nest over."
There's a moment as Grayson listened.
"Copy that, I need a full blitz, multiple targets, multiple zones..." Grayson waited. He addressed Ryan. "They can't see them...do you see us nest? Do you see us?"
Grayson referred to the electronic chip that was placed in all their uniforms and caused a red strobe affect on the Drone pilot's monitor.
"Roger, multiple targets forty meters ten degrees east of my position. Sporadic, going north. Look for groupings of my men, make a judgment call where targets are. Do not, I repeat, do not shoot us." Grayson ordered. "Copy that. Light them up."
Grayson crouched further behind his cover.
"So?" Ryan asked.
"Everybody take cover," Grayson said into the other channel as he watched Ryan, "Hot and Heavy coming in."
Ryan surveyed the soldiers in the area as they pulled back so he did as well, following their lead as they covered their heads.
Mark listened as the only firing came from the Natives, he could hear the sound of whistling as something broke the sound barrier. He looked up to see streaks of smoke heading from beyond the clouds in their direction.
Sixteen rockets were fired from the two Drones circling a kilometer overhead, each one reached twenty meters above the ground and exploded as they sent out another five smaller rockets each. These rockets spread out and ripped through the forest canopy, tearing branches apart as they shot toward the ground. Less than a meter above the ground almost as one the rockets detonated into huge fireballs. The trees around each detonation blew apart into kindling as the force of the shockwave rippled through the area ahead of the flames. A wave of red, hot shrapnel snapped through the air with the shockwave smashing into the ground. It sliced through dirt, roots, flesh and bone nearly a meter below ground. The blast wave set everything on fire as the incendiary chemicals coated everything in their path.
Mark felt the gust of heat moving past him going one way, followed by the air as it raced back toward the explosions, as it tried to fill in the impact void. The destroyed trees began to fall into the flames with loud crashes.
"Yeah!" Ryan screamed as he watched. "Yeah! That's how you take it to them! Did you see how close that got?"
Grayson listened to his ear bud. "Confirm detonation in the hotspots, confirmed detonation."
Ryan stood up and stepped into the open to watch the forest burn, his rifle down by his side. Mark stayed back and studied his partner, dazed from what he just witnessed.
"Sir, we need to pull back." Grayson climbed to his feet.
"What? Why?"
"We just set the forest on fire. That shit ain't going out anytime soon." Grayson said. Ryan smiled and nodded. "Squads, back to the river. Good job everybody."
The soldiers started moving back as one helped Mark up to his feet. He nodded but waited as Ryan stayed to watch the flames. The fires started jumping to the other trees so Mark grabbed his friend by the shoulder and pulled him back.
Ryan was in an almost sexual afterglow as the two headed for the river.

Karen turned to look as the sound of the explosions reached her. She was two kilometers away with the bulk of the Natives, who were mostly the elders, women and their children. The warriors stayed back to slow down the oncoming storm.
"Oh my god..." Shawn said next to her. She was in her teens with a bad limp so Karen kept close to her. She was reacting to the giant balls of black smoke that came up from the forest followed by the orange glow. "They got away, right?"
"Just keep moving." Karen put her hand on Shawn's arm and turned her back to follow the rest of the Natives.
Karen had a sinking feeling; Kevin caused this. It had to have been him.
She was going to have to start interfering soon if they wanted their people to survive.

Chapter 11 can be found at: https://steemit.com/fiction/@andrewgenaille/hunting-indians-chapter-11