Forsaking Home (The Survivalist Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

shallow, and soon, the landing ramp came into view. Captain Sheffield stood at the shoreline waiting for them. Lieutenant Livingston was sitting behind the wheel of a Hummer, and Ian, the adopted marine, was sitting in a second Hummer. Sarge stood as the bow of the boat hit the sand abruptly, launching him out.
    Sarge landed on the sand, took one big step to slow his forward momentum, and stood up. “I meant to do that.”
    Sheffield shook his head. “It almost looked that way.” He stuck his hand out, and Sarge took it with a grin on his face.
    “Good to see you, Captain.”
    “Good to see you, First Sergeant.”
    Ted cut the engine and he and the guys started unloading their gear. Ian came down to help, and together, the four started carrying the gear up to the camp.
    “Hey, Doc, I got a couple of guys I need you to check out when we get to camp,” Livingston called out.
    “Sure thing, what’s the problem?”
    “Some kind of stomach bug.”
    “Where are they staying?”
    “We isolated them in a tent by themselves.”
    “Smart move. As soon as we get up there, I’ll look at them.”
    With all the gear unloaded, Sarge got in the Hummer with Sheffield and Livingston while the guys rode with Ian.
    “So what’s the old man’s plan?” Ian asked.
    Mike laughed. “I don’t think he has one.”
    “Let me guess: we’ll make it up as we go along?”
    Doc leaned forward to look at Ian. “And
how
long have you known Sarge?” All the guys started to laugh.
    They drove through the camp, which was bustling with activity. People were visible everywhere. Tents were spread out under the old oaks along the river, civilian and military ones mingled in a loose organization. Numerous smoky fires burned throughout the camp. The smoke hung like clouds in the canopy of oak trees and Spanish moss.
    They followed the brass in the lead Hummer up to the command tent and parked out front. As soon as they got out, Doc asked to be taken to the quarantine tent. Ian pointed him to it, saying, “I ain’t going in there.”
    Doc chuckled. “Pussy,” he replied, pulling on a set of nitrile gloves.
    Sarge, Sheffield, and Livingston went on the Command Post and sat down around a small table. Ted and Mike followed, taking a seat on a couple of crates.
    “I’m all ears, First Sergeant,” Sheffield said.
    “We’re going to need to work up a mission plan to try and take over the refugee camp located at the naval bombing range. Right now all I’ve got is the drawing you already saw. The brass says the camps aren’t what they appear. Rumors of forced labor and relocations are coming out of several camps around the country. Worse yet are the rumors of executions.”
    Sheffield looked surprised. “Executions?”
    “That’s what we’re hearing.”
    “We’re going to need to do some recon on the camp. We need to get as much intel as possible,” Livingston said.
    “You said you have some equipment that will help with that?” Sheffield asked.
    “I do, but before we commit to that, we need to send some guys out to find a place we can set it up. We aren’t taking it in there blind,” Sarge said.
    “We can send in some scouts for a little sneak and peek,” Livingston said.
    Sarge nodded at him. “As we discussed earlier, send your marine and these two”—Sarge pointed to Mike and Ted—“and a couple of your best shooters. Five men should be enough.”
    Sheffield looked at Livingston, then back at Sarge. “How about four men and one woman?”
    “I don’t care if you send Sasquatch, as long as they know how to use a weapon and conduct themselves on a recon mission. Why, you got a gal you want to send out?”
    “Yeah, Jamie. She’s a spec four and the best shot in our unit. The guys hate it, but she’s good. She’s a big hunter, bow hunts every year,” Livingston said.
    Sarge turned to look at Mike and Ted. “You guys got any problem with a woman watching your six?”
    Ted shook his head. Mike grinned. “Not me, I’m