AS HE WATCHED... The sound of the heavy truck grew closer as Jessie settled into the nest. He was positioned on the West side of the dirt road, about 100 yards back, dug into a shallow hole and covered in fallen hardwood leaves. The lenses of his field glasses were the only thing left uncovered by the musty blanket of leaf matter. For twelve hours he had lain there, on his belly with a rolled up wool blanket under his neck and chin for support. He hardly noticed the smell of the loamy soil, he had been exposed to it for so long. He gave a small sigh, because if events unfolded they way he surmised, hed only be here for a couple more hours, able to leave under the cover of the quickly approaching darkness. It was still too early for headlights, so there would be no early spotting of the trucks position. The visible zone only being thirty meters wide. The hills and turns in this area played tricks with sound, and made it hard to tell how far the truck still had to travel before Jessie could get a visual confirmation. Fortunately, Jessie didnt have to wait long. After five or six minutes, the olive drab one ton pickup lumbered into view. It was one of those early millennium model Dodges, relatively plain, with a large canvas tent top over the bed. Like a smaller version of the old deuce and a halves. Jessie was just reaching for his radio when the driver gassed it to get up this next hill. Suddenly, a small, plastic crate, about three feet across and two foot wide came rolling out of the truck bed. It bounced and rolled, coming to a stop in the center of the road, angled away from Jessie. The driver of the pickup, apparently oblivious to the loss of cargo, continued on his way. Jessie stared through the glasses, trying to ascertain if there were any markings or labels on the crate that would help him identify its contents without leaving his position. However, the angle of the crate left any chance of that happening in the negative. Jessie keyed the radio and whispered, We have confirmation of activity. OD green, heavy, farm truck. One driver, possible passengers in bed. Heading Northbound. Theyve dropped some cargo. Do not reply, something feels wrong. Holding position, maintaining surveillance. Over. Jessie was hip to this game, the old drop and pop. Anyone with knowledge of this road and half a brain would figure this area to be ripe for surveillance. They drop some valuable looking cargo, wait for the spotter to take the bait, and either snipe them, or take em out with a sweeper team. Dreams of any type of early supper and rest fled Jessies mind, replaced by the sure knowledge of enemy presence. No worries. Hed nested in worse places than this one, and in much worse weather. He knew how to play the waiting game. He had to, or he wouldnt have lived this long. Hours passed as the darkness deepened. Jessies eyes grew heavy, so he bit his tongue to jolt himself awake. He was just thinking about packing up, when he got that tingling feeling on the back of his neck. Years of being exposed to stressful environments had left him with a sort of danger sense. It had saved his bacon on more than one occasion. TO BE CONTINUED...
Posted on: Sun, 14 Dec 2014 06:04:19 +0000
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