McCullen Family Farm

Lewis County, Washington

United States of America

9 August, 1986

1352 Hours

        I went through the door like it was made of styrofoam. Two hundred and ten pounds of hardened street machine, twisted steel and sex appeal, blowing through a wooden door that was already split down the middle. The grass was green, fresh, and I almost tripped over the sprinkler on the end of a green hose but hopped over it awkwardly. I slipped slightly, feeling a burn in my calf as my right leg went too far forward, but I managed to recover, heading for my truck.

        Only problem was, Glendan was standing by the passenger door, a 12 guage Remington pump in his hand, and waving me forward. Both doors were open and I could tell the truck was sitting there idling. There was a rifle in the rack, something I'd avoided, and the lizard identified it as a Winchester .30-.30 lever action with engraving and inlay on the butt.

        "Run, Tony!" Glendan yelled. He looked behind me. "Run, Harv! Hurry up!"

        I jumped into the truck, stomping on the accellerator and the clutch. Glendan jumped in next to me, slamming the door. Harvey was running across the lawn, a .308 Remington in his hands. He wasn't coming in under combat methods, he was hurrying to catch up.

        "Let's go, Harv!" I yelled out the open door, slamming the truck into reverse and whipping it in a tight circle. Dirt sprayed up, ripped from the ground by the cleated tires of the truck. Harvey jumped onto the bumper and threw himself into the bed as I slammed on the gas, speed shifted, and double-clutched. The truck roared like an angry beast and dirt sprayed from the rear wheels as the truck lunged forward.

        "Blow the gate!" Glendan yelled, holding onto the dash as the truck bounced down the dirt driveway. I pumped the clutch twice, shifted into second, hit the clutch for a moment while I mashed the accellerator, then popped the clutch. The engine raised to a scream, and the truck peeled out again. The engine we'd dropped into it was a 401 AMC V-8, with dual intake, and chrome headers under the hood.

        I looked in the mirror, seeing Harvey holding on tight in the bed, one hand holding the rifle. He almost bounced out, almost lost the rifle, but his ass hit the truck bed and the rifle stayed in his hand. The truck's brushguard hit the steel gate, ripping it aside, the right half going under the truck, throwing us in the air for a second as I slammed my foot down on the e-brake, grabbing the release, and hitting the accellerator with my other foot. The truck screamed as the e-brake pulled it around, the old style single wheel e-brake whipping us around. I yanked the release, keeping on the gas, and the truck headed down the highway, gaining speed as I shifted it into third.

        "Goddamn, this was close." Glendan said, then rolled down the window and leaned out slightly. "You all right back there, Harv?"

        "Yeah. Ass hurts though." Harvey yelled back. I reached behind me, through the gun-rack, and yanked open the smaller window in the back window. Harvey put his head through the window. "Holy shit, that was intense."

        I just grunted, shifting it into fourth gear and then easing off the gas a bit in order to keep it at fourty-five miles per hour.

        "Stopped to grab your rifle, Harvey?" Glendan asked, brushing his hair back.

        "Yeah. Patron told me to stick with Anthony even before Briana called us in." Harvey said. His face went serious. "Matron Cliona stabbed Matron Sorcha in her fucking heart. It was a full blown war in there. At least three of the Sitting Matrons are down, and I think one of the Matrons in Repose is dead."

        "Anthony, what the hell is going on?" Glendan asked. I just shook my head, digging in my pocket for my cigarettes.

        "Patron Jared told us yesterday to stick close to you." Harvey said. "Then this crap with Matron Aine, Briana, and the Doutree boys. What the hell is going on?"

        "Something stupid." I told him, putting away the Zippo. I took a deep drag off the cigarette and relaxed a little bit. "Something really stupid."

        "Like what?" Harvey asked. He was holding onto the inside of the window with one hand, and I knew that the other was holding onto the sling of his rifle.

        "It's a power play." I told them. I saw a gas station and pulled off, killing the engine and getting out of the truck.

        "Power play?" Glendan asked, reaching into his jeans for a can of dip. He held it out to Harvey, who shook his head.

        "It's been coming since World War Two." I told them, leaning against the truck and taking another deep drag. My leg ached from where I'd slipped. "My Father came back from World War Two, and refused to do what the Matrons said. He married someone he met a few years later instead of the woman the family had chosen for him." I laughed, remembering the story. "He married his penpal. She was in High School, sending letters to the men fighting in the Pacific. When he came back, she was a high school graduate and was still writing. They met, and despite what the Matrons demanded, he married her."

        Both of them exhaled sharply. The Matrons arranged every marriage, and since birth control had become widely available, even told the women of the family when they were allowed to conceive.

        "When the McDaurn family War Patron died back in '53, the Matrons refused to elect another, citing Tiernan's refusals as the reason." I shrugged. "Every boy knows that Tiernan should have been the next War Patron, but his refusal to leave the military even after Korea, or take an approved wife, meant that there was no way that the Matrons would approve him." That was another difference between my family and the McCullens. The McCullens still had the Grand Patron, and then the Patrons (usually just a father of several children) and the Patrons in Age, who were all old men. The only Patron my family had had since coming to America for King William's War in 1690 had been the War Patron, something the McCullens never had.

        Both of the other men nodded. Glendan spit on the ground and looked at me. "So the Matrons of both families put a hit out on your sister, thinking they'll get Tiernan rushing back, but instead they got you."

        I nodded at that, rubbing my hand through my close cut hair. "Yeah, they got me."

        "So now they're gonna have to figure out another way to get Tiernan back here." Harvey said. He rubbed his face. "Goddamn it, no wonder the Patrons wanted us to stick close to you." He looked at me. "They should be glad that Tiernan didn't come. He'd have a ton of those Special Forces guys with him."

        I just nodded again.

        "Dammit, who thought up this stupid plan?" Glendan asked.

        "It's all about power." I told them. "Our families here are the heads of both families across the country. The rest of the families follow our lead. And believe me, there's a lot of power and money involved in it all."

        "Hell, if nothing else, all the retirements." Glendan shook his head. "I think there's like over two-hundred boys pulling full military retirements. That's, what, half a million dollars a month?"

        "Don't forget the SGLI payments, and the fact that any boy has to send a third of his paycheck back to his mother each month until he is married, and then it's like a fifth after that." Harvey cursed, spitting out of anger. "They take $200 from me every month. I barely clear like $500 a month, and the Matrons get $200 because otherwise our cousins will break our damn arm."

        That made me just shrug. I walked over to the phone booth, looked up a quick number in the white pages, and dropped a dime into the phone. I dialed quickly, and asked for one particular room number.

        "Hello?" A man's voice.

        "Echo Five Actual, transmitting clear." I said clearly.

        "Three one seven Actual, reading in clear." was the reply. The Texas accent was barely audible.

        "Day and night, zero-eight-hundred-zulu. Complete." I said. Harvey was talking to Glendan.

        "PMCS status?" I asked.

        "Serious frame damage. Power train and suspension damage. Air system intact. Serious cosmetic and paint damage." The man said. I could hear the anger, even through the attempt at dispassionate tones. The Texas accent started to leak through before the man got his temper under control. "Being sent up to Third Shop tomorrow, power train repair."

        "Roger that. Make sure the motorpool is guarded at all times."

        "Roger that. Three One Seven Actual, out."

        "Echo Five Actual Out." I hung up the phone and headed back over to where the other two men were waiting. I field-stripped the butt, rolling the tube just behind the cherry until it dropped it off. I rolled the tobacco out, then toed the cherry out, scattered the tobacco, and pocketed the filter. The other two men watched silently till I was through.

        "What do you think is going to happen when Tiernan gets here?" Harvey asked, lifting up his rifle and sighting down the road with the scope. "Think it'll be war?"

        "He ain't comin." I told them, flatly.

        "Why not?" Glendan asked.

        "Because I'm here." I told him, climbing back into the truck. "Stay or go, I don't care. I'm going to get supplies, my gear, and relocate."

        Both men got in the truck, putting their weapons on the gun rack. I fired the truck up and we headed down the highway, toward Chehalis.

        "Why isn't he coming just because you're here?" Glendan asked.

        "Because, I'm going to find out who beat up my sister and who gave the orders." I growled.

        "Then what? Tell Tiernan?" Harvey asked.

        "No." I answered.

        "Then what?" Glendan asked.

        "I'll kill them, and make everyone who was part of this plan wish they had never been born."