Ethan's Gang : Unholy War : Book I

Chapter 12 - The Raid

8:54 AM, Amarillo, Texas

"Hey, buddy, you should see a doctor about that arm." The gas station attendant said to Winston, who looked at his arm-- it was dripping blood onto the counter. Winston took his change and said "I just might do that."

     Out in the van, William had regained consciousness.  He still had a hangover, however.  He looked at the charred bones of his hand, then impulsively snapped them off against the dashboard.  They fell to the carpeted floor.  William poured whiskey on his wrist stump, screamed, then lit it with a match.  His wrist caught on fire and burnt, charring into a lump of blackened ash.  He jammed a coffee cup over the stump, then slapped himself across the face once.

     "Sir," he said. "I am ready for duty again."

     Winston was gaping at this display of stoicism. "Where the FUCK did you get the nerve to do that!?" he demanded.

     "Sir, I was a boy scout."

     "Okay.  Right." Winston said, eyeing his assistant suspiciously.  "Well, it's your turn to drive.  Can you drive with one hand?"

     "Yes sir."

     "Good. Let's go." Winston concluded, then traded seats with the youth. As the one-handed boy drove, the man known as Winston Crabfreak slouched in the passenger seat, smearing anesthetic paste all over his arm and grimacing.

 

 

9:00 AM, Manhattan

The 1976 Cadillac Series 75 Fleetwood Sedan cruised through the glass and concrete chasms of Manhattan.  The boys riding in the big car were marveling at all the huge buildings around them, the broad plazas, the crowded sidewalks.  Big Brandon was holding the map of the city Ethan had acquired back in New Jersey, and he was peering at it.

     "We're on… Ninth avenue?" he asked.

     "Yes." Ethan replied.  "Ninth Avenue.  We just crossed… um… 15th street."

     Brandon fingered the map, squinting at it.  The address on Pringle street, where the Ugly Coco headquarters was supposedly located, was 6 miles to the northeast, near the City University of New York, known as CUNY.

     "Okay," Ethan said, "Here's the scheme-- we'll park about four blocks from the Pringle Street address, in order to avoid detection."

     "Yeah, cool." 12 year old Burr said, "We're a special forces unit."

     "Awesome!" Josh shouted.

     "Yeah," Ethan said, "But guys - this is a dangerous mission we're undertaking.  There will be people there trying to kill us.  Don't forget that.  It's not a game.  I'll try my best to keep all of you safe, while destroying as many of the Enemy ULB's as I can.  Brandon is big and powerful, he will be my second in command."

     Brandon accepted his appointment with a lazy arching of his back and a confident smile.  Shawn-Bo felt slighted and began pouting. Ethan noticed this, and addressed the fact.

     "This doesn't mean I think Brandon is better than any of you other guys-- it is simply a matter of logic.  He's had more experience shooting people and being in combat situations than any of you other boys.  He can protect you almost as well as I can."

     "Yes," Brandon said boastfully, "I am the mighty Brandon, and NONE shall harm you."

     "Boo-randon." Kelly snickered from the back seat, snatching Boo's cap off his head.