Copperheads - 12 by Joe Nobody

Author:Joe Nobody [Nobody, Joe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kemah Bay Marketing, LLC
Published: 2016-07-03T04:00:00+00:00

Butter caught his first glimpse of the plantation after they had hiked for nearly an hour. While it had been easy to avoid an occasional security patrol using infrared optics, the effort had required an indirect course. More than once, the couple had been forced to hide while a party of sentries passed.

The crest of a large hill, combined with the high moon, eventually provided an astounding view of what appeared to be a mansion straight out of Better Homes and Gardens magazine’s antebellum edition.

Peering down at the colonial columns and the assortment of outbuildings, the entire setup reminded Butter of pictures he’d seen of pre-Civil War Mississippi or Georgia. May had told him that the locals called the estate the Castle, and now he could understand why.

“She’s down there in one of those long buildings according to what I’ve been told. The stranger said her sleeping quarters were in a structure marked #11,” May whispered.

They continued downward, passing through a field of waist-high corn, Butter’s head always on a swivel, scanning left and right to avoid any human contact.

Less than half a mile from the Castle, the duo arrived at the first significant obstacle.

A large, wide irrigation ditch blocked their path. Butter thought the waterway would be easy to swim or wade across but quickly determined that wasn’t a very good option. “With the bright moonlight, any guard would notice the ripples we would make while crossing. That water is glass smooth, and we would send little waves rolling for hundreds of yards in both directions.”

“There has to be a bridge,” May suggested. “Let’s work our way along the bank.”

A short distance later, the pair approached a footbridge, the old wooden structure barely wide enough for two people to pass. Right at the peak of the slight arch stood a sentry, the steel of his machete glinting in the yellow light.

“Shit,” Butter growled, studying the lookout. “He’s going to be difficult to take out without making a lot of noise.”

As the two intruders deliberated the situation, a pair of men approached the bridge from the opposite direction. “Hola,” they greeted the sentry, who promptly stepped aside to let them pass.

“We need to look like the locals,” May whispered. “We need to look like we belong.”

Butter glanced down at his load vest, carbine, and high-tech optic. “That’s going to be a little hard to accomplish. My gear doesn’t exactly fit in with this year’s fashion line.”

“Maybe not yours, but I think I could fake it in the dark,” May offered. “If I distract him for a second, can you do the rest?”

Butter didn’t like it. “That’s really, really dangerous. You might get hurt, or he might be shout out a warning. I don’t think it’s a very good idea.”

Another few minutes passed while both of them tried to think of an alternative. Finally running out of patience after checking her watch, May maintained, “We have to try my plan. It’s the only way we’re going to find out if they are holding my sister.

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