Gone Fishing, Trouble Brews ...

U.S. service members participate with allies and partners from multiple nations in exercises throughout West Virginia, May and June 2023
Photo by Staff Sgt. Jake SeaWolf/U.S. National Guard

Wilt Thompson met up with Leroy Beardsley in the parking lot of the Walmart in Frederick, Maryland.

"Leroy."

"Wilt."

The men fist bumped then Thompson asked, "Where's Willy?"

Beardsley nodded towards the store, "He's inside, had a few things he wanted to pick up."

Thompson looked concerned, "He's using cash, right?"

Beardsley shook his head, "Come on boss, you know Willy's no fool."

"Can't be too careful these days."

As Thompson looked towards the entrance to the store, he saw Batchelor coming out. He turned to Beardsley, "You guys came in separate vehicles, right?"

Beardsley nodded, "Yeah, reminds me, I gotta gas up."

"I want to head out separately, can't be too careful. Did you know that the Maryland State Police killed Morgan and have Rossi in custody?"

"Damn. Probably for the better, Morgan was an asshole and I don't care much for Rossi."

Thompson grinned, "This isn't one of those Army-Navy things is it?"

"Nah, but do we need to worry about Rossi spilling his guts?"

"Nope, he only knows what we want him to know."

Batchelor joined the two men after stowing his purchases in his pickup truck. "Wilt, we ready to head out?"

Thompson nodded towards Batchelor's truck, "What did you buy?"

"Junk food, you know I can't go more than a day or two without chips and stuff."

"Enough for everybody?" Beardsley asked, smiling as he did so.

Batchelor shook his head, "Uh uh, no way I could afford enough pogey bait¹ for your fat ass."

The three men all laughed. Thompson got in his truck and said, "See you guys in a few hours."

"I've cleared your calendar for the next five days, Mr. Secretary."

"Thanks, Nancy. I'm looking forward to a few days in the wilderness." Secretary of the Interior John Nakagawa grinned at his administrative assistant as he picked up his briefcase.

"Where are you headed. Sir?"

"Way out in western Maryland, Green Ridge State Park. I haven't been camping in years, not since my wife died." His face darkened when he said that, but he recovered quickly. Someone from Japan would have noticed the brief emotion on his face, but Nancy Winkler did not.

"Well, enjoy! If we need you ..."

"Yes, boss, I'll have my cell with me."

Winkler laughed as the Secretary departed. She phoned down to the garage and asked for Bill Aspinall, the head of the Secretary's security team. It bothered her that such a thing was necessary in this day and age. Her mother had recently commented, "Well, when I was a girl, only the President and Vice President needed protection. Most people didn't even know, or care, who the Cabinet members were."

"Aspinall here."

"Mr. Aspinall, Nancy Winkler. You're not going to let the Secretary waltz out of town on his own are you?"

"No Ma'am, I'm going with him and we'll have a team follow us to the Secretary's destination. We won't leave him alone, but it will be a lot less intrusive than normal."

As Winkler hung up, she felt a little better. The Secretary would be protected and, better yet, he got along well with Aspinall.

She'd sleep better knowing that.

"You know where we're going, right Bill?" The Secretary was relaxed, he was glad he'd acceded to his security detail chief's offer to drive. He could now relax on the nearly two hour drive from his home in Bethesda. The big government issued Chevy Suburban was more comfortable than his own SUV, a small Honda CRV, and he could take more camping equipment. The tent alone took up a lot of room.

"Yes, Mr. Secretary, I've got it programmed into the car's navigation system. Along the way we can stop and get some food, I know a place that sells really nice camping packages, including a much better version of the MRE."

"Nice, and while we're on this trip, call me John."

"But Mr. Secretary ..."

"That's an order, Bill. Last one I'll give you until we get back to DC."

Aspinall smiled, "Alright, John. Relax and enjoy!"

The small group saw the big black Suburban go by and radioed ahead. "The Secretary is on his way, as planned."

The group moved into the open, the fog was setting in. Though it was supposed to be a nice weekend, fog and rain were predicted for Friday evening into the small hours of Saturday.

"All right boys, let's head back and get set up. Ted, Jeff, you have those Maryland DOT outfits and equipment?"

Ted McAndrews answered, "Yep, we'll have this road closed in a jiffy. No one else will be getting off at this exit tonight."

As the men began to move, another Suburban took Exit 62, the men slipping back into the trees didn't notice it, they were focused on their next task.

(Source)

"Larry, better radio the boss. I coulda swore I saw armed men up in those trees, just above the exit." The Suburban's driver, Alexander "Hoss" Winthrop seldom missed a thing.

The team chief, Larry Sellers, nodded and said, "I think the West Virginia National Guard is out here this weekend. Maybe working with the Maryland Guard. But I'll let Mr. Aspinall know."

"Better safe than sorry." Winthrop said.

"Yeah, yeah, and I've never seen your eyes fail, even in this soup."

For the fog was getting thicker and it was starting to rain. Winthrop was worried about falling too far behind the Secretary's vehicle.

"Okay, boss said he'll slow down a bit, it's still clear about a mile ahead of us. Heck, they should be at the campsite soon."

Sellers thought a moment then radioed his boss back, "Red Sun One, this is Two, recommend bypassing the Campsite 2 and proceed to Campsite 3."

When he heard, "Copy," from the other end, he breathed a little easier.

Then he got on the radio again, this time to his parent organization's headquarters in Annandale. He murmured a quiet "Shit," then signed off.

"Problem, boss?" Winthrop asked.

"I asked for a chopper, nothing available until the morning, this area is going to be completely fogged in until around first light tomorrow." Then he looked at the other two members of the team.

"You fellows ready to take a hike?"

Woodrow Gaither nodded as he looked at his spotter, Kyle MacLauchlan, "Kyle?"

"Let's do this." MacLauchlan muttered, he was perhaps too ready.

Sellers continued as he looked at his map, "We'll drop you off just up ahead. Those guys Alex saw are back there somewhere. Sneak on back and check them out."

Gaither just said, "Roger that," as the big Chevy rolled to a stop. Fifteen minutes to gear up and the former SEAL sniper and his former Army Ranger spotter vanished into the woods.

Sellers slapped Winthrop on the shoulder, "Let's drive." He was still puzzled as to how his company, a private security firm, could afford to assign two of their five scout/sniper teams to the Secretary of the Interior's weekend fishing trip.

Sellers looked at his scout, "What are you grinning about?"

"You Army guys and 'choppers,' come on boss, everyone knows they're called 'helos.'"

Sellers a former 11-Bravo² grimaced at his scout, a Marine 0317³. "Chopper, helo, whirly-bird, I hope I never have to fly on another one."

Winthrop laughed, "Copy that, boss."

¹ Junk food, candy bars, ice cream etc.

² Army Military Occupational Specialty code for an infantryman.

³ The MOS for scout snipers in the United States Marine Corps is 0317. This MOS changed to 0322 in December of 2023 and people with that MOS are now referred to as reconnaissance snipers.