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Veteran Member
Chapter One
Robert “Bud” Campbell changed the batteries in the scope and screwed the cover back on. Placing another set in their protective case into his vest chest pocket, he made sure his canteen was full and the two energy bars were in the left waist pocket. The .44 Remington Magnum Rugar Redhawk hung heavily in his vest holster as well as two speed loaders. The suppressor for his AR-10 lay snugly in its vertical pouch under his right arm. His Monopod Shooting Stick lay on the picnic table.
He took four of the IR chemlights out of the box and placed them in his right waist pocket.
“Radio check.” Billy Harrington said. Bud put in his earpiece and said, “Romeo four, check.” Billy answered with, “Tango two, check.” The other four members of their hunting team called in.
“Okay, gather around, “Billy said, unfolding a map.
“This should be splatter city. This sounder has been hitting this field frequently. We catch them here and we should mop up. The field is surrounded by canals and once we start shooting, their only way out is this road here. Gary and Will, I want you two to take up positions here and here to block their escape. Bud, Jerry, Dan and I will enter here and set up at this end of the field. We’ll be able to start sweeping the field once the hogs start feeding. Make sure you crack your chemlights and put them in your hats once you are in position. We’ve got volunteers ready to collect the kills once the shooting is done. Good hunting!”
The hunting group loaded into the muffled safari cars and headed to the field after the sun had set. They had to turn on their NODs before they reached their drop off point to be able to see. They gathered around the bridge grate at the water control gate and waited a few minutes before getting into position.
“The guests are arriving.” Gary warned.
“Okay, let’s get into position. They usually enter the field and go to the far end before they start feeding. Watch for the chemlights and wait for my shot!”
The group spread out against the west canal until they were about ten meters apart and waited. Bud screwed on his suppressor, extended his shooting stick, rested his rifle on it, and began scanning to the east. He first saw the boars and sows, the piglets hidden by the peanut vines. To his right, he heard Billy chamber a round, so he did too and took aim at the second hog to the left. As soon as Billy fired, Bud fired, dropping his hog. He got a piglet standing in the middle of the row and began methodically taking out targets as they appeared. Two of the larger hogs tried to bolt for the field entrance but were taken out by who knows who. In fifteen minutes, the firing died down because there were no other targets.
“Oscar seven, Oscar Eight, we’re beginning our sweep.” Billy said over the radio.
“Roger”, “Roger”.
Bud had moved to North Carolina when he found life in New York was a societal challenge and not what he’d wanted it to turn out to be. He’d started working at the firm right out of the Army and had grown quickly into the business. Ten years later he had the life only a few could even dream of, but it had become too tedious for him. Finally, he’d reached his limits, put out some feelers and quickly liquidated his assets and bought the antebellum plantation house and 75 acres on the banks of the Albermarle Sound. Although the house was weatherworn and in need of some extensive repairs, meaning expensive, he was having the house and outbuildings restored and renovated to what he wanted. There was even one of the houses used for slave quarters left. The main house had originally been a 700-acre plantation that grew cotton and tobacco but over the years parcels had been sold off to paper companies and large farm consortiums. WESTVACO owned most of the old forests that remained. Many of the old fields now grew soybeans, peanuts and cotton.
Bud was enjoying the freedom during the restoration/renovation. He had several friends and acquaintances living in the surrounding counties. A couple had tried to get him to move to Nags Head but Bud decided he liked the Sound area better. Fewer tourists and lots of fishing and hunting. He was living in a travel trailer during the months of work it would take to get the house like he wanted.
The contractor praised how the house had been built and Bud asked him to keep as close as he could to the original materials, which meant a lot of expensive cypress lumber. The expenses didn’t bother Bud. They had yet to go through what he’d gotten for the art he’d sold. To Bud, the dressed cypress lumber had been more appealing than the art he had collected for investment purposes. With the paints they had today, the buildings should last a lot longer through the heat, humidity, and the storms that battered the coastal plains of North Carolina. Bud was also having hurricane shutters installed and made sure the roof was reinforced. He wanted to ensure the buildings were here to stay, like he was.
It was almost 1:30 in the morning before all the hogs were loaded in the trucks and trailers waiting for the meat. The carcasses would be taken to a local processor where they would be dressed and cut up for delivery to needier folks in the area. The Sheriff’ Departments of three counties were involved. They knew who needed the food better than most.
“You might as well grab your bedroll and crash here tonight.” Billy said. “99 gets awful lonely and tiresome this time of night. I’m cooking a big pot of shrimp and grits for breakfast.”
“Yeah, I think I will, however, just save me a couple of biscuits and I’ll be fine.” Bud said. Billy knew Bud hated shrimp and grits. Bud liked most southern cooking, but shrimp and grits was something he had never been able to develop a taste for.
Bud got his go bag and his lightweight sleeping roll out of the truck and grabbed a cot in the club bunkhouse. He unlaced his boots, sat them under the bunk and slipped off his shirt and pants. After getting in the bag, which was nothing more than a nylon body bag and a jungle blanket, it wasn’t long before he was out like a light and didn’t wake up until late in the morning.
“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!” Billy yelled through the door.
Bud groaned and got up. He went into the washroom and rubbed his face with cold water, drying off with the towel that hung there and put on his clothes. He walked out to the covered eating area where Billy was working at the grill. Billy sat the coffee pot on the table and Bud poured himself a cup. Then Billy placed a platter of eggs, bacon, and pancakes on the table in front of him.
“What happened to the grits?” Bud asked.
“Oh, I was just yanking your chain. I didn’t want you going back with a bad attitude.”
Bud buttered the pancakes and poured a good amount of syrup over them.
“How many hogs did we end up getting last night?” Bud asked.
“Only fifty, if you count the piglets. There’s an estimated 500 more that need to be culled before anyone’s happy.”
“People can only eat so much pork!”
“Oh, the processors will sell them for dog food what we don’t donate. They’ll just gut them and put them in a big freezer. Once they have a trailer load, they take them to Wilson where they turn them into nice little morsels for pets. How’s the house doing?”
“They are jacking the house up and moving it off the foundation pillars to replace the pillars and add protection from termites.
“That’s going to be a nice place when you get finished. You find anything interesting?”
“Nah. I’ve heard tell of people finding things like old family bibles, business ledgers, old letters, antique pistols, and even caches of old coins, but nothing has popped up.”
“Then the treasure is probably buried out somewhere. A lot of the people around there descended from pirates. Even today, if a boat gets loose from it’s mooring, it’ll be stripped down to nothing by the time the owner finds it, if he ever does.”
“Now Billy, you’re talking about my neighbors!”
“Then take it as a warning. They’re all pretty good people but they also have a strong sense of ‘Finders Keepers!’”
“I’ll keep my stuff tied up then.”
“What are you going to do with the travel trailer?”
“Oh, I had them fix up one of the big sheds to store it in.”
“If you decide you want to get rid of it, I’ll buy it from you in a heartbeat! I like the design and how it has a wood heater.”
“I’ll hang on to it. I might take it down to the coast to hang out and fish when the spots are running in the fall.”
“Well, keep me in mind.”
“Well, they build them in Utah for sheep herders. I can give you the contact information if you want.”
“Do that.”
Bud took an outside shower after breakfast, rolled up his sleeping bag and tossed his gear on the back seat of his truck. The traffic was almost non-existent on the way back to Columbia. He stopped in Plymouth to pick up some groceries, to include beer, at the Piggly-Wiggly.
When Bud had first looked at the house, he thought at first glance he would have to tear down what had once been a magnificent house. After his initial inspection, he decided it would be a shame to completely raze such a previously exquisite structure. The antebellum house still had good bones, she just needed a few patches and makeup here and there. Bud found a good general contractor and they began to work. Bud couldn’t get much history about the place, It had been there for as long as most people remembered. One old longtime resident said it was at one time owned by a man that worked over across the Sound at Harvey Point. He’d had a little float plane he flew over to go to work. Bud didn’t take the conversation any further. Harvey Point was a government installation that was built in the second world war as a seaplane base for submarine hunters, but was now used by different government agencies that liked to shoot and blow things up. Its sister installation was Camp Peary, up near Williamsburg. Bud had attended a couple of courses on mayhem there back when he had been stationed at Fort Bragg. The building he was turning into a four-car garage must have been the previous owner’s hangar. Maybe he was CIA. Bud wondered if he would find anything the spy had left in some secret compartment. If he did, then it wouldn’t be a secret much longer. They were going to have to tear out the walls to rewire the whole house to bring it up to code.
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