Tyranny Read online

  “Damn you,” G.W. said. “You can’t call me that.”

  “I just did, old man,” Grayson replied with a sneer. “Now, are you gonna unfasten that chain, or do I have my men get the bolt cutters?”

  All along the fence, the defenders stiffened at that threat. Rifle and shotgun barrels came up a little higher.

  “Blast it, this is wrong!” Devlin said in the tense silence. “I know the IRS case against this man was false, and I’m starting to think the BLM claim may be as well!”

  “You’re a damned fool,” Grayson told him. “The press is here, and you’ve just gone on record as supporting these . . . these domestic terrorists. You know you just threw away your career, don’t you, Devlin?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t a career worth having.”

  Grayson shook his head in dismissal, as if Devlin wasn’t worth bothering with. He turned back to G.W. and Kyle and said, “What’s it gonna be? Do you open up, or do we arrest you for being in violation of federal law?”

  Before either of the Brannocks could respond, a new sound intruded on the morning air. The whup-whup-whup made everyone turn to look as it steadily grew louder.

  The helicopter seemed to fly out of the sun. It swooped over the vehicles and people on both sides of the fence, made a circle, and then began to descend about a hundred yards inside the ranch. The downdraft from its rotors kicked up a huge cloud of dust.

  “What the hell?” G.W. muttered.

  The chopper settled to the ground, barely visible because of the dust that surrounded it. But as that cloud began to settle, everyone saw a man climb out of the passenger seat and start toward them. He was tall and lean, dressed in camo fatigues, and also wore sunglasses. His short, curly fair hair was starting to turn gray, and his close-cropped beard was the same shade.

  Several of the ranch’s defenders swung up rifles and shotguns to cover him. He never broke stride as he made a curt gesture and barked in an unmistakable tone of command, “Put those guns down, boys. I’m just here to observe.”

  G. W. stepped forward to meet the newcomer. He said, “Who in blazes are you, mister?”

  The man stopped to meet G.W.’s level stare and said, “Colonel Thomas Atkinson, retired, sir.” He put out his right hand. “It’s an honor and a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Brannock. Governor Delgado sent me.”

  Something was vaguely familiar about Atkinson’s name, thought Kyle, but he couldn’t place it. Clearly, though, the man wasn’t from the federal government, and that was a mark in his favor.

  G.W.’s instincts must have told him him that Atkinson was all right, because he didn’t hesitate in gripping the newcomer’s hand. He said, “If that fine lady sent you, then you’re welcome on my ranch, colonel.”

  From the other side of the fence, Grayson shouted, “This isn’t your ranch, damn it! It belongs to the federal government, old man!”

  Kyle smiled. Grayson didn’t like it that the cameras had turned away from him and were pointing toward the impressive figure of Colonel Atkinson now.

  Grayson went on. “The state of Texas doesn’t have any jurisdiction here, and the governor knows it!”

  “Didn’t say that it does,” Atkinson drawled. He took a stub of a cigar from his shirt pocket, stuck it in the corner of his mouth, and clamped his teeth on it, leaving it unlit. “Like I said, I’m just here to observe.”

  Grayson continued to fume. He said, “I want this gate open right now!”

  Miranda stepped up to it. Kyle didn’t like her getting in the middle of the confrontation, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

  “I’m Mr. Brannock’s legal counsel, Mr. Grayson,” she said, “and if you have an injunction to serve, I have a right to see it.”

  Grayson’s lip curled. He said, “All right, blondie.” He half-turned and snapped his fingers. Warren Finley hurried forward, carrying a document. Grayson took it from Finley and extended it through the bars to Miranda. “Go ahead and look at it. You’ll see that it’s signed by a federal judge.”

  Miranda took the injunction, then reached inside the lightweight jacket she wore and brought out a folded paper.

  “And I have here a temporary restraining order signed by a judge blocking any attempt by the federal government to take possession of my client’s lawful property.”

  Grayson’s eyes widened. Kyle was shocked by this development, too. Obviously, Miranda had been holding this trump card in reserve.

  “Let me see that,” Grayson demanded.

  “Of course,” Miranda said. She passed the document through the bars of the gate.

  Grayson studied the paper for a couple of seconds, then snapped a finger against it and exclaimed, “This is signed by a damned justice of the peace!”

  “A legally elected judicial official,” Miranda said.

  “Federal law supersedes state and local law!”

  “I suppose we’ll have to let the courts work that out, won’t we? In the meantime, until the case is heard and ruled on, you’re not welcome on this property, and you have no right to force your way onto it. If you do, you’ll be in violation of state statutes and county ordinances, and as an attorney and officer of the court, I’ll place you under a citizen’s arrest.”

  As Grayson glared at her, clearly flabbergasted, Kyle had never liked and admired Miranda more.

  Maybe Stella was right. Maybe he did love Miranda.

  He could try to figure that out later. Right now there was a little matter of keeping Grayson from taking over the ranch....

  Shaking with rage at the way he was being defied, Grayson crumpled the paper he held and flung it to the ground at his feet. Kyle was a little surprised he didn’t stomp on it like a kid throwing a tantrum.

  Miranda slid the federal injunction back through the gate and dropped it. It floated gently down to the ground.

  “Open the gate,” Grayson said.

  “No,” G.W. said. “This is my land.”

  Grayson looked at the grim-faced defenders lined up along the fence and the cars and pickup blocking the dirt road. He rubbed a hand over his face, then put on his sunglasses and squared his shoulders.

  “One more chance,” he said coldly. “Open up and relinquish this property, or I’ll come back with armed federal agents.”

  “This is my land,” G.W. said again. It was a simple, yet eloquent, statement.

  “All right. You’ve made your choice. I gave you a chance to comply, Brannock. When I come back, you’ll either open the gate . . . or there’ll be a bloodbath here. And it’ll be on your head, old man.”

  With that, he turned, stalked toward the SUVs, and waved his men back into the vehicles. Finley and Todd looked relieved. The other agents were as expressionless as the automatons they resembled.

  Once everyone was back in the SUVs, they turned around and started toward Sierra Lobo. The defenders along the fence seemed to all let out pent-up breaths.

  But this wasn’t over, thought Kyle.

  Unfortunately, it might be just beginning.

  Chapter 50

  “That was a gutsy move, Ms. Stephens,” Colonel Atkinson said to Miranda. “That fed could have arrested you.”

  “He could have tried,” Miranda said.

  Kyle had to grin at that. They were back at G. W.’s house, sitting around the table in the kitchen eating a belated breakfast and drinking coffee. Miranda and Stella were at opposite ends of the table, keeping a discreet distance from each other but otherwise being cordial.

  “I remember how come I’ve heard of you,” Kyle said to the colonel. “You were involved in that prison riot a while back. What was the place called? Hell’s Gate?”

  “That’s right, but it wasn’t exactly a riot,” Atkinson said. “It was a terrorist attack that the federal government did nothing to deal with. They left it up to state forces to take care of the problem.” Atkinson sipped his coffee and added, “In fact, there’s pretty good evidence that some members of the federal government helped instigate the whole t
hing.”

  “Good Lord!” Barton Devlin exclaimed. “You can’t be serious. The federal government would . . . would never cooperate with Islamic terrorists! That’s insane!”

  Quietly, Atkinson said, “Yes, it would be insane for our own government to do that . . . unless the people running the country at the highest levels actually hate America and everything it stands for and would like to destroy it.”

  As Devlin sputtered, the colonel added, “You can’t elect people who promise to transform America and then be surprised when they try to do it. We’ve been dealing with that for a couple of decades now . . . and God help us, they’re winning more than they’re losing.”

  “Not here,” G.W. snapped. “Not in Texas.”

  “Not yet,” Atkinson acknowledged. “And they’ll never succeed in turning Texas into the sort of socialist state they want without spilling a lot of blood on both sides.” He smiled. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll beat ’em.”

  An air of gloom settled over the table momentarily. Devlin broke it by asking, “Is all this you’re saying really true, Colonel Atkinson?”

  “About the federal government being riddled with people whose real goal is to bring the country to its knees? I believe it is, Mr. Devlin. I hate to say it, but with all my heart, I believe it. I’ve seen too much evidence proving it.”

  Devlin took a deep breath and said, “Then someone has to stop them. We have to stop them. We have to fight them.”

  G.W. grinned and reached over to slap the former IRS agent on the back.

  “Never thought I’d say this to somebody who used to be in your line of work, Bart, but I like the way you think.”

  “Well, I . . . I believe maybe I actually am thinking for the first time in ages. Maybe ever.”

  “So what do we do now?” Kyle asked. “You know Grayson’s not going to back down.”

  G.W. shrugged and said, “There’s not much we can do except keep on with what we’ve been doin’. I’m not lettin’ that varmint on my ranch.”

  “He’s going to bring back armed agents,” Miranda said worriedly.

  “They’ll be well-armed, too,” Atkinson said. “The federal agencies and bureaus have been militarizing themselves for years now, stockpiling weapons and ammunition and assault vehicles. They’re almost as prepared to go to war as the real military.” He paused. “The big difference is that they’ve been getting ready to go to war against American citizens, instead of foreign enemies. This may be the first real test of that.”

  “So you’re saying people are going to be hurt or killed,” Miranda said.

  Atkinson said, “I’m sure someone as well-educated as you are has to have run across the quote about the tree of liberty and the blood of patriots, Ms. Stephens.”

  That made everyone around the table fall silent again. While they were sitting there, one of the men who had showed up to back G.W. came into the kitchen and said, “More folks from town are out there, Mr. Brannock.”

  G.W. scraped his chair back.

  “Reckon I’d better go talk to ’em.”

  Kyle got up, too, and said, “I’ll come with you.”

  “Why don’t we all go?” Atkinson suggested.

  G. W. led the way onto the front porch. A group of people stood in front of the house, including Chief of Police Ernie Rodriguez and several of his officers.

  “Ernie, what are you doing here?” G.W. asked. “What if there’s a crime wave in Sierra Lobo?”

  Ernie grinned and said, “The only real crime in these parts right now is what’s happening out here. Grand larceny, if you ask me. That’s what it’ll be if the government succeeds in stealing your ranch, G.W.”

  “I agree with you about that, but you’ve got a duty to the folks in town you work for. You don’t have any legal jurisdiction out here, either. You’ll just get yourself in trouble if you take on the feds.”

  “How about Bill Jacobs?” Ernie asked. “I talked to him on the phone earlier. He has jurisdiction in the county, and he’s thinking about coming out and making a stand with you.”

  “I’d rather he didn’t. In fact,” G.W. said, “I sort of wish everybody would just go home!”

  Most of the people within earshot frowned, including Kyle. He said, “I don’t think you really mean that, G.W.”

  “Yeah, I do,” G.W. insisted, “but probably not for the reason you’re thinkin’. I’m touched by the way so many folks want to take my side in this. I appreciate it, I really do. But after listenin’ to the things the colonel had to say, I’m startin’ to worry that too many innocent people are gonna be hurt.”

  “You’re afraid there’s going to be a bloodbath, like Grayson threatened.”

  G.W. grimaced and said, “The more I talk to that man, the less I’d put past him. There’s just no tellin’ what he might do or who he might hurt in order to get his way.”

  Atkinson said, “I think you’re right about that, Mr. Brannock, but we’re all in agreement that Grayson and the federal government have to be stopped. As a matter of fact, Governor Delgado didn’t mention this when she was talking to you yesterday, but she got her hands on a copy of that so-called Spanish land grant, and she’s got every expert who works in the state archives going over it, along with some pretty high-powered professors from the university. If it’s a phony, they’ll be able to prove it.”

  “That’s exactly what I wanted to do,” Miranda said.

  Atkinson nodded and said, “Maria got the idea from the message you left for her, Ms. Stephens. No offense, but she’s got a little more clout when it comes to things like this, so she went ahead.”

  “No offense taken,” Miranda assured him. “The sooner and the more definitively we prove that the government is lying about the land grant, the better.”

  G.W. said, “Could be Grayson’s bosses have gotten wind of what the governor’s doin’, and they’re afraid the whole thing’s about to be exposed and blow up in their faces. That’s why they’ve hurried him up. They figure that once they’ve gotten me out of here, they won’t ever have to give up the ranch, no matter what comes out about the whole land grant thing.” He ran a thumbnail along his jawline and frowned. “But that still leaves one mighty troublin’ question. . . .”

  “Why do they want this ranch so bad in the first place?” Kyle said.

  None of the others had an answer.

  Chapter 51

  Kyle really expected Slade Grayson to return with armed agents and try once again to take possession of the ranch that day, but by sundown there had been no sign of the man or any of his Bureau of Land Management cohorts.

  The cameramen and technicians from the news crews remained on the ranch with their vans and satellite uplinks, but the on-camera talent all went back to Sierra Lobo for the night. The motel rooms there were nothing fancy, but they beat sleeping in a van.

  Ernie Rodriguez and his police officers returned to Sierra Lobo as well, once G. W. persuaded them that they might be needed more back in town. Many of the other locals had returned home, too, as had some of the people who had come in from nearby towns.

  Everyone promised to be back the next morning, but Kyle suspected that some of them wouldn’t be. It was easy for people to get all worked up about something they regarded as injustice, but no matter how sincere they were in their feelings, it was difficult to maintain that sort of fervor.

  Stella Lopez was one of the townspeople who remained on the ranch. Kyle worried that her presence might cause some friction with Miranda, but on the contrary, the two women seemed to warm up to each other slightly as the day went on. They had something in common, after all—Kyle.

  And when he saw them with their heads together, talking quietly, that really worried him. If she wanted to, Stella could probably tell Miranda some things that would lower her opinion of him.

  Whatever had been between him and Stella was years in the past, though, Kyle told himself. He’d been a different person then. Surely Miranda would be able to see that and understand that he h
ad changed.

  What he really wished, more than anything else, was that both Miranda and Stella would go back to town where they would be safe. Even though Grayson seemed to be taking his time about returning, he would be back sooner or later, and he would bring more trouble with him than ever before. Kyle was certain of that.

  In fact, he wished all the men who had brought their wives and children with them would leave. He understood what G.W. had been talking about. No matter how much G.W. loved the ranch, he didn’t want the blood of innocents on his hands.

  Kyle loved the place, too, now more than ever after spending this time here with G.W., and he felt the same way. He would die to defend it, but he wasn’t sure anyone else should.

  During the afternoon, Colonel Thomas Atkinson had checked in with Governor Delgado by phone, then told the others that she didn’t have any news to report on the effort to uncover the truth about the land grant.

  “She wants me to fly back to Austin to brief her in person on the situation here, though,” he’d told the others.

  “There’s nothing else she can do to help us, is there?” Miranda asked.

  “Oh, you never know. Maria’s a clever lady. No telling what she might come up with.”

  A short time after that, Atkinson had chomped down on a cigar, climbed back into the helicopter, and nodded to the pilot to crank up the whirlybird. With the usual racket and cloud of dust, the helicopter rose into the air and flew off to the east, rapidly disappearing into the blue sky.

  Now night had settled down over the West Texas landscape, bringing with it a deceptive peace and quiet that Kyle knew could be shattered at any time, with no warning.

  He was standing on the front porch, gazing out at the darkness, when he heard a soft step behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Miranda standing there. The two of them were alone on the porch, so when she moved closer to him, Kyle put his arms around her and kissed her again. She responded by putting her arms around his neck.

  After a moment, he drew back a little and said, “I wish all this trouble would go away so you and I could spend a lot more time getting to know each other.”