Those Medding Kids
Chapter 5
by Technomad
Jed
Jed didn't really breathe easy until they had passed the ALA checkpoint and were heading out of town, back to the Schmidts' ranch. He much preferred staying in the mountains and striking at the enemy to sneaking in behind enemy lines. At least "regular" guerrilla war was fairly straightforward.
Fred was crammed into the front seat of the truck along with Jed and Mr. Schmidt. The rest of the infiltration team and the Wolverines were in the back. While the accomodations were not exactly luxurious, nobody was complaining. They were all too glad to see Pueblo disappearing in the distance.
When they got to the Schmidts' ranch, everybody piled out, and stretched. They were all dirty, and Mrs. Schmidt looked them up and down, her hands on her hips. "Okay. All of you need showers. You girls go first, then the boys." Jed knew better than to argue with his godmother when she used that tone, so he just nodded. He was glad to see that the infiltrators did not look like they wanted to argue. He looked forward to getting himself clean. That was an opportunity that came too seldom, when they were up in the mountains.
The Schmidts still had hot water, thanks to a methane converter they had built from plans in a magazine before the invasion. When Jed finally got his turn, last of all, he luxuriated in the feeling, and closed his eyes, letting his mind transport him for a few minutes to the safe world before the war.
When they had all showered, the Wolverines and infiltrators gathered in the living room, wearing spare pajamas and nightgowns that the Schmidts had had around. Mrs. Schmidt was in the kitchen busily cooking, and Mr. Schmidt was sitting with them. Fred brought out a case of documents that he'd had on him.
"Okay, here's some pictures of Pueblo from space, from before the invasion. And here's a few taken after it fell to the Reds, by one of our surviving satellites." Jed leaned forward, curious to see how the town had changed. He could see changes; quite a few buildings that had been there before the war were apparently gone, and the airport area was fenced off.
Mrs. Schmidt came in, with a big plate of food. "Here. It's not as good as I could have done before the war, but those dreadful Communists have disrupted everything," she said, putting the plate down. Jed's mouth watered, but he restrained himself, only taking a share after everybody else had one. Looking up, he caught Mr. Schmidt's eye. His godfather winked and nodded his approval, and Jed felt good. Eating felt even better. One thing that he and his friends, and, apparently, the infiltrators, had learned since the invasion was to eat whenever they got the chance, since they never knew when the next food was going to appear.
Sitting back and enjoying the unaccustomed feeling of a full stomach, Jed thought: After the war, I'll never, never take food for granted again as long as I live!
Fred
Fred was looking the photographs over, figuring out what the best move would be. He could see several different routes by which the airport area could be approached. "I take it that these roads are under guard, too?" he asked Mr. Schmidt, tapping one of the photos.
Mr. Schmidt looked at the photograph. "Most likely. The Reds have plenty of people for that, particularly since those ALA appeared." A shadow seemed to cross his face. "I still can't believe that anybody would join the Reds! I thought better of people!"
"Some of them were forced in at gunpoint, sir," Velma said, peering at the pictures through her thick goggles. "Others were taken right out of prisons, and many of those are r'aring for revenge on 'straight' society."
"They do have, like, real volunteers," Shaggy said. "Some of 'em are true believers, while others just join for what they can get."
"Their names are on lists," Robert said, looking up from his food with a dangerous gleam in his eye. "After the war, there'll be a great settling of accounts." He took a bite, chewed and swallowed, closing his eyes in bliss at the feeling of eating. "And I hope I survive the war so I can get in on it."
Fred looked at Jed for a second. Jed shook his head very slightly. Then Fred looked at Daphne. Daphne was looking at Robert, and Fred didn't like the look in her eyes at all. He glanced at Velma and Shaggy, and they both looked as worried as he felt.
"Keep in mind, you've got to live to the end of the war to get in on that," Mr. Schmidt said. "Throwing your life away in some ill-considered mad attack would do no good, and maybe do harm. Let the big head do the thinking."
Robert visibly considered that idea, then finally nodded. To Fred, the nod looked reluctant, and he renewed his vow to himself to keep a careful eye on that particular Wolverine. He had enough trouble keeping Daphne from berserking when they got into fights. At least, he thought, Velma's pretty clear-headed and cool!
Jed
When they were done eating, Jed said: "We now at least know where the areas we want to hit at are. Let's start brainstorming ways and means to do it." He grinned bitterly. "Preferably ways that don't end up with any of us getting killed!" Jed was always coldly aware that, unlike the other side, he had no lives he could waste. Every one of his followers was a personal friend, and he bled inside at the thought of any of them dying, particularly if it happened due to some mistake of his.
They got out the maps and aerial photographs, bending together over them. Velma, from the infiltration team, brought out a magnifying glass. Glancing up, she saw him looking at her oddly, and gave him a gamine grin.
"I have to carry this all the time, Jed," she explained. "My eyes…my spirit's more than willing, but my eyes just aren't up to much."
Scooby Doo nuzzled her. "Right!"
She cuddled the big dog. "Scooby here does a wonderful job protecting me, and so do the others, just like before the war when we went around exposing fake hauntings and things like that." She shrugged. "If we weren't such a tight-knit team, and my special skills with technology and the like weren't so very valuable, I'd probably be filing documents or holding down a desk somewhere behind the US lines."
"Wouldn't you rather do that, Miss…er, I mean, Private Dinkley?" Mrs. Schmidt was all motherly concern. "I can't get used to this modern way of letting women into combat."
Erica Mason spoke up. "Women have always been in combat, ma'am. It's just that now, we get to shoot back!" Her sister Toni nodded agreement, her eyes unfocussed as she stared at something only she could see for a second. Jed remembered how they had come to join the Wolverines, and figured he knew what the sisters were thinking about. He held his peace. Even after so long together, there were things they didn't discuss unless there was no other choice. They all had their private demons, but he knew the girls' particular nightmares were worse than his, or any of the other guys'.
Shaggy pointed at a narrow path that was marked on one of the maps. "Like, is this path still there, man?" Jed looked at it. It wound around through the hills, coming out near the fence that surrounded the airport.
"I don't know. We might have to go look at it. But just charging out of the woods at the fence would get us killed in a hurry, I think."
"We need a distraction, people," said Daryl. "If the Commies are occupied with something else, or at least paying most of their attention to it, we can get close enough to crash through the fence."
"Yes, a distraction," Jed mused. "But what would work, I wonder?"
"Maybe…maybe if they thought we were friendly, we could walk right up to the fence?" put in Aardvark.
Everybody looked at him. He spread his hands. "Hey, we were talking about those scum in the ALA earlier. If we could get some of their uniforms, we could probably get in without too much trouble. I noticed that they didn't seem like the sharpest knives in the drawer." He looked around. "It was just an idea…"
"That's a brilliant idea!" Toni Mason came over and kissed Aardvark, making him blush. "Now, all we need to do is to get our hands on those uniforms."
Jed saw an evil gleam in Robert's and Daphne's eyes. "Preferably not too bloody or torn up. Right?" Robert and Daphne looked at him, and he returned their stares, unafraid. After a second or two of their wills clashing, the other two dropped their gaze. Inwardly, Jed gave a sigh of relief. Keeping one hate-driven would-be berserker under control was enough trouble. Now I've got two!he thought.
Fred
A few days later, Fred was lying up in the brush, overlooking a road through the hills, miles from Pueblo. Not far away, the others were also hidden. They were waiting for their prey to arrive.
Mr. Schmidt had been very informative about the habits of the ALA. The collaborationists tended to stick strictly to routines, and used the same routes to get around, at about the same time every week. Fred wondered if that was because they just liked routine, because they were too badly trained to think of varying their schedules, or because their masters didn't trust them enough to let them do much on their own.
Scooby-Doo stared off to the north. He growled softly, and his hackles rose. "Rhey're rumming!" he said. Long since used to Scooby's way of speech, Fred nodded and signalled the others that their targets were coming. He heard several soft clicks as safties were taken off guns.
Down the road came a car, and Fred smiled. His smile felt wonderfully carnivorous. This deep into the hills, only one possibility existed as to who was in that car. Like every other patriotic American, he hated the ALA with a pure, cold hatred.
The car came into view, and Fred narrowed his eyes. Everything now depended on timing. At least, he thought, it's not an off-road model! An off-road vehicle might have been able to get out of the trap he'd set up.
Fred soon saw that he needn't have worried. In front of the ALA car, a tree fell into the road, blocking it completely. Before the ALA men could even stop, another tree fell into the road behind them. Toni and Erica had done their parts perfectly.
Before the ALA men had been due, the Wolverines and Fred's group had cut two trees that leaned out over the road, making sure to hold them up and in place with unobtrusive ropes attached to other trees. Toni and Erica had been watching the road with the others, with knives poised to cut the ropes as soon as the ALA car was in position.
Once the car was immobilized, the next part of the plan started. Jed Eckert yelled: "Throw down your weapons! You're surrounded! You don't have a chance! Surrender, and I'll let you live!"
Within the car, a furious argument started. One voice yelled: "We've got to get out of here! Blast them!"
Another voice: "They've got us dead-to-rights! If we surrender we might just have a chance!" A shot rang out, and then the second voice said: "Okay, we surrender! We're giving up!" The car's windows opened, and several rifles and pistols were thrown out. "We're opening the doors. We surrender! Don't shoot!"
Jed gestured, and Matt, Shaggy and Danny went forward, covering the ALA car and keeping as much behind rocks as they could. The doors opened, and four uniformed ALA stumbled out, their hands in the air. "Okay, turn and face the car, hands on the roof. Assume the position!" snapped Matt, as Shaggy and Danny came up to them. The rest of the infiltration team and Wolverines stayed under cover, watching from behind rocks and fallen trees, their weapons ready.
Matt searched the prisoners, confiscating their identity papers and other documents he found. He paused for a moment when he pulled a hip flask out of one prisoner's pocket. Opening it, he sniffed. "Vodka?" Then he shrugged and pocketed it. Jed wasn't a bit surprised that ALA men would drink on duty.
Inside the car, the ALA driver slumped over the steering wheel, a dribble of blood coming out of one ear. Matt opened the driver's door, pulling the body out onto the road. One of the ALA prisoners said "He was always really enthusiastic about what we were doing. We just joined because they made us!" The others chorussed agreement.
Up in his hiding place, Jed shook his head skeptically. He and the Wolverines had had little to do with the ALA, but from what he had heard, those forced into the ranks were not trusted enough to be let as far off the leash as this group were. The unwilling conscripts were kept on-base, and did a lot of the scut-work for the ones who'd joined of their own free will.
"Come this way," said Danny, gesturing with his rifle. With their hands laced on top of their heads, the ALA prisoners were herded off to one side of the road, where they were greeted by the rest of the ambush team. They looked surprised and terrified to see so many hostile Americans.
"Hello," said Jed, smiling what felt like a very unpleasant smile. "We want to talk to you about your workplace. Tell us all about the ALA."
"Yeah," snarled Daphne. "Don't hold back. Tell us everything you know!"
"If you talk, I won't hurt you," Jed went on. "If you don't talk…well, a lot of bad things happen in a war, don't they?" Particularly to traitors, he thought. He'd talked with Fred and the infiltration team about the ALA before setting this idea in motion, and nothing he had heard predisposed him to sympathy with the prisoners.
The ALA had what amounted to carte-blanche vis-à-vis the population in the occupied zones, and many of them used their privileges to the hilt. Crimes by ALA members against ordinary Americans were investigated lackadasially, if at all, and even murder and rape were often winked at by local Soviet commanders.
Fred had said that even many Soviet soldiers despised the ALA. "We use them, but don't ever think we love them!" one prisoner had said while being interrogated. Apparently many Russians called them "the expendables," and in the event of a large American counterattack, planned to force the ALA to soak up as many bullets as possible, so as to ensure that the Soviets themselves survived to fight longer. While Jed hated the Soviets, he acknowledged that they were fighting for their country, and he understood their dislike for the ALA completely. If things had been reversed, and the Americans had been deep in Soviet territory, he'd have used Soviet traitors, but never trusted or liked them.
The ALA prisoners knew that they were in a bad fix. Smiling like dogs trying to ingratiate themselves with a new alpha, they talked. "We're based near Pueblo, sir. We were sent on a patrol because someone reported suspicious activity out here. Things have been quiet for a while, and our bosses want to keep it that way."
Jed nodded, rubbing his chin. He knew exactly who had made that call, since he'd done it himself. They'd wanted to lure some ALA men out, away from the garrisons where most of them were to be found. That was an essential part of their plan.
"Well, tell me about your commanders. And the other people you're with. Tell me everything. And don't lie. You don't know what I already do know, and if I find you're lying…" Jed made a "cut-throat" gesture. "If you cooperate, I won't hurt you."
"And we'll let you go," said Daphne. Jed looked at her narrowly. To the eye, she was quite attractive, but there was a gleam in her eye that he didn't care for much. He wouldn't have trusted her, but he figured anybody fool enough or low-down enough to join the ALA would fall for her act.
He had no intention of letting the prisoners go free. Even though they were deep in the hills, there was a chance that the prisoners could walk out back to friendly lines, or even find help. Much as Jed hated to admit it, there were Americans who'd help them for various reasons.
Reassured, the prisoners began talking at length. Jed pulled out a note pad and pencil, making rapid notes. He'd learned shorthand before the war, and blessed the day he'd decided to take that class, even though he'd only done it to try to get close to an attractive classmate.
After a while, the prisoners ran down. "That's all we know, sir. What do you want now?" one of them asked.
"Your uniforms. Come on, strip! You can keep your underwear, but we want your uniforms." Looking puzzled, but relieved, the prisoners started to take off their outer clothes. "Your boots, too." At this, the prisoners looked mutinous for a second, until Jed gestured significantly with his rifle and they remembered just where they were.
"Stand up." Obediently, the prisoners stood. "Daphne, Robert, take them off to where we'll be keeping them." The prisoners shambled off with their hands in the air, and Daphne and Robert covering them. After a few minutes, shots rang out, and Daphne and Robert came back, holstering smoking pistols.
Jed put on an innocent look. "The ALA sure has a real problem with desertion, doesn't it? Their guys disappear all the time. It's like they can't be trusted or something." Then he looked at the uniforms they'd confiscated. "I think these will do. We'll see who they'll fit when we get out of here. In the meantime, someone start that car of theirs and drive it to where we can push it into a ravine or something." They bundled up the uniforms as Aardvark got into the car and started it, waiting for them to move the trees out of the road so he could drive along. There was a good deep ravine less than a mile away, and even if the enemy went looking, the chances of the car being overlooked were pretty good.
(Author's note: Jed and the others are on sketchy ground here, but this is not a situation where they can take and keep prisoners. They're a long way behind enemy lines, and far from anybody who could take charge of POWs. They also all hate the ALA, for very good reasons.)