005: Joint Venture

Yeah, we do watch a few modern shows around here.

Electricity had come to the Davis Farm in 1972; it was then that the power company put up a power pole that was now the most stable structure on the property. It held up a cattle barn, which held up a tool shed, which held up a turkey coop, which served as the office for the Henderson gang.

Thomas Armstrong Davis would roll in his grave if he could see what a mess his tweaker grandkids had made of the place. Junked cars and other assorted garbage littered the 42 acres, weeds covered the fields, pets and livestock had often been left to rot where they died, and neither the old home place nor the four trailers were fit for civilized inhabitants.

Doug had appropriated the property by calling in debts on some of the people living there: extrajudicial Fieri Facias[1], so to speak. Fixer-upper though it was, he figured it would make a nice place for him to lay low while plotting his return to power. Made a decent meeting place too, so long as no one thought he actually lived there.

"Interesting group of people." said Henry Marks, Henderson's second-in-command.

"Yeah, to Freud maybe." said Doug

"Maybe to us too." said Henry, watching from the office door as the visitors saddled up and trotted out, kicking up trickles of dust behind them. The turkey poults sharing the office chirped in surprise as he pulled the door shut. "You think they were really Mafya?" he asked.

"Seems they wanted us to think so, doesn't it? That could of been a Mafya soldier with them, or just some Ruskie deserter hitched up with the first band of Americanski she ran into. Who knows...

"Could be one of the Donner Parties, but I ain't heard of them working in this area yet, and they seldom deign to work with others anyway—santimonious, arrogant bunch of psychos.

"Could be local bushwackers, or some independent group transplanted here. They didn't act local and if they're independent they seem to be more skilled than usual—won't know that for sure till we meet again in the quarry.

"Could be cops pulling an entrapment scheme. We'll have to keep that in mind next time we meet, but Williams is too direct to pull off entrapment, not to mention too lazy. And no one higher than him still cares about us."

Henry went back to what he had been doing before the visit, cleaning out the coups.

"That's a little worrying though; if they can find us, what keeps Williams from doing it? Besides, ain't the Russian Mob supposed to be pro-globalist?"

"Williams is preoccupied, not to mention lazy." said Doug, smiling. "As for the mob, they're pro-globalist in the same way that Williams is, so long as it pays." Doug paused, peculating a fresh thought in his head as he thumbed through the roller deck on his desk.

"If these people, whoever they are, are as strong as they claim and see more profit in stealing from the NWO than working for it, then you might be right about this being an opportunity. We become Ivan's men in Pincher, maybe they'll find a way to help us put the the Williams' back in their place.

"I got a girl in Lewisburg, works at the rail depot, I get in touch with her and I'm sure she can get us some suitable timetables and manifests. Still, a train robbery..."

"Aw, come on." Henry nudged him "You remember playing us Train Robbers as kids—haven't you ever wanted to do it for real?"

1. My players start to glaze over when I break out the Latin, so I better define this:

In the past, and even today in some areas, when someone owed a debt but couldn't or wouldn't pay for it, the courts could order the sheriff to relieve them of and auction off something equivelant in value: be it livestock, a portion of their crops or property or a few of their prettiest daughters. It's a rarely issued writ these days (courts prefer to garnish wages now; taking a portion of your income instead), but it could easily return in a world as economically unstable as post-conquest America.