Brian thought for moment, trying his hardest to do like Levi and put aside all the excuses. “I guess in my case, its greed,” he said finally. “As bad as I hate to admit it, there’s nothing I want more than to prove all the skeptics wrong. I can’t believe I’ve come to a point where I’m willing to kill to accomplish it.”

“Sounds like an honest reason,” Levi observed.

“It sounds like that makes us pretty bad people,” Brian replied, unable to hide his shame.

“I wouldn’t say that, Brian,” Levi said in a monotone voice. “It just makes us human.”

“So what does that make, Rusty?” Brian asked.

“That makes Rusty better at repressing his natural instincts, I’d guess,” Levi replied. “Some people live their whole lives denying their true feelings and instincts. For instance, how many men do you know that would admit to their desire to kill? It’s an evolutionary instinct men needed to survive, but yet as man evolved into a more civilized society, such thoughts and feelings became dangerous. Men started to repress these natural instincts, but they never left us. As long as there are men on this planet, Brian, there will always be war and fighting, and violence. The urge to kill can be repressed for a time, but not forever. It eventually surfaces. The longer it is repressed, the more volatile it is when it comes out.”

Brian looked at his old friend through new eyes. He knew he spoke the truth, but had never known a man to speak it quite so bluntly. Part of him felt he should feel disgust towards this man, but the rational, logical part of him, felt a deep respect for his honest disclosure. “Are you looking forward to the killing, Levi?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” Levi replied without hesitation. “Yes, I am.”

Brian was quiet for a moment. Tears had formed in his eyes and his jaw was set. His voice broke as he spoke. “I am too.”

John Lynn McBride stood alone atop a small rise. Swine Creek’s dark flow churned silently beside him. He’d entered the narrow stretch of timber an hour earlier. During this span of time, he had turned slowly in a circle surveying the terrain, but had not moved from his perch. His mind took in every rise. His years of military training, combined with combat experience, had engrained this ability so deeply in his psyche that it came to him now without effort.

A plan was formulating and slowly rising to the surface of his consciousness. As each detail emerged, he checked it carefully with the dozens of variables of chance that were likely to present themselves. John slowly and methodically eliminated and accounted for each variable. It’s going to be messy, he acknowledged to himself. No sense of emotion accompanied this thought. He simply took note and continued his survey.

Several variables concerned John…wind direction, lighting, weather, and concealment were at the top of his list. Above all else, he worried about Brian and Levi. They had a part to play in his plan. He tried to eliminate them as much as possible from critical elements, but ultimately, had to acknowledge the fact that he needed them.

“Them boys are going to have to man up,” he said aloud. Ole Ned snickered from the wood line in response to his voice.

Finally, John stepped down from his point of survey and moved directly to his pack. He pulled out a roll of thin wire, a battery, two M18 Claymores, three M67 hand grenades, and six AN-M8 HC white smoke grenades. Over the next hour he moved purposefully through the timber, setting snares, trip wires, and mines. The planning process was complete and he moved now with fluid urgency, never hesitating for a moment. For him, the hard part was over. The killing had always come easy.

John placed his two M18 Claymores strategically. Each one was had a casualty radius of 100 meters. When detonated by battery, steel balls would rip through the air in a 60-degree arch, covering the entire width of the small timber. The M67 hand grenades had a casualty distance of 15 meters. John rigged one of them on pull wires to cover a retreat. The other two he would keep on his person and throw by hand. Last, John placed six AN-M8 HC white smoke grenades. Each was capable of producing a harmful hydrochloric screen of smoke for approximately 2 minutes. These were placed in a circular pattern surrounding the kill zone to discourage escape and promote confusion.

Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2007 Pat Barker.

Rusty had easily followed the trio south. His anger had dissipated somewhat, since his harsh words towards Brian. His mind had settled into a methodical cadence. He was disappointed in Brian and Levi, but was enraged at the arrogance of John. He reminded himself as he rode that his purpose was not to settle a personal vendetta with John. He only wanted to keep the sasquatch from being harmed, and he hoped in the process, remind his friends of a belief they once shared.

Rusty didn’t know exactly what John had planned, but he had figured out the general direction the sasquatch were traveling and the route they were taking. He knew an ambush was the most likely plan, figured it would be near Swine Creek.

Rusty’s plan was brilliantly simple. He would track the tracker, whose focus was ahead. The shoed horses they rode made the tracking fairly easy. He was able to keep a fair pace and figured he would catch back up to them before daybreak. At that point, it was simply a matter of diversion. Whatever John had planned, it would likely involve the element of surprise. Rusty planned to remove that element.

It was only a few hours before sunset when John returned to the camp. He found his two companions right where he had left them. He was impressed. A part of him expected they would lose their nerve and take the opportunity of his absence to leave. He walked over to where they sat and kneeled down beside them.

“I reckon its time,” John said in a slow drawl. “You boys checked your weapons?”

“Locked and loaded,” Brian replied.

“Awaiting your orders,” Levi smiled.

John surveyed their faces carefully. He’d seen these looks before back in Nam. There was a constant influx of greenhorns coming straight out of boot camp. They all had that same look of scared determination before their first battle. Some could handle the anticipation. Others could not. John felt some relief in knowing they’d come this far and were still eager to press on.