The Sword of God - John Milton #5 (John Milton Series) by Dawson Mark

Author:Dawson, Mark [Dawson, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unputdownable
Published: 2014-08-21T00:00:00+00:00

54

M orten Lundquist stood over the body of George Pelham and shone his flashlight down into his face. His eyes were still open, unblinking into the bright light, but his head had fallen at a loose, odd angle that told Lundquist all he needed to know. George had been the son of George Senior and Patricia, good friends of Lundquist and his wife, who had lived in Truth for years. George Junior, who was barely more than a boy, had been involved in the militia for little more than a month. They had needed a little more manpower to help keep the FBI distracted and off the scent of Michael and the others. He had been glad to join. He was a pious man, like his parents.

Another martyr for the Sword of God.

“What do you want us to do with him?” Leland Mulligan asked, pointing down at the dead man.

“Nothing.”

“We can’t…”

“We need to call it in.”

“And what do we say?”

Lundquist paused as he considered that. Whoever this Milton was, he was either the luckiest son of a bitch alive, or he knew what he was doing. He had evaded their ambush at the RV and then he had hidden in the corn and picked off the one weak link in the cordon of men who had penned him in. Most people would have run for the forest, and most people would have been shot.

He had heard plenty about the SAS.

Seemed like they were as good as advertised.

He shoved his pistol back into his holster. He had been a policeman for years, ever since he left the army, and he’d never seen anything quite like this. The last man to have been murdered in Truth had been Stephen O’Reilly, ten years back, and he had been stabbed by his wife for messing around with Bill Pascoe’s daughter. This, though?

This was something else.

And more importantly, all this havoc was putting their fulfilment of God's word at risk.

The vice president was due in Minneapolis in four days. They couldn’t let this drag out, start to affect timings, start to affect what God had told him to do.

Lundquist couldn’t tolerate that.

He turned to the men. “Listen up. I’m going to go back to town, and I’m going to raise the militia.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone. But you need to stay here. My best guess, Milton has gone straight into the woods, and he’s going to keep going. He’ll expect us to come on after him. I want you to form a cordon, five hundred yards between you. You can cover a mile.”

“And if he comes out?” Leland asked.

“We shoot him,” Michael said.

Leland looked apprehensive.

Lundquist snapped, “He’s not going to come out, Private. He’s injured. He’s going to go deeper inside, and then he’s going to hide. But we can’t take any chances. That’s why you’re going to wait out here for me to get back with the others.”

“Don’t worry,” his son said. “We’ve got this.”

Lundquist looked at him and laid on the scepticism. “Really, Private? You think so?”

His doubt stung the boy, he knew that.

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