held position and let him stroll out of town like a whipped dog.

Whoever was controlling them wanted him to know that he was in complete control here. He was sending him a message. This was his town now.

He drives about half way down the street and then stops. Idling for a moment as his mind begins to suggest contingency measures against this new threat. Reaching into the back seat he takes two mines from a case, slides his night vision goggles on, grabs his rifle and slips out onto the street. Operating as quietly as possible he plants them at either side of the road.

He knows that they won’t be much of a deterrent to such a force. They’ll hardly do much damage overall in fact, but perhaps, perhaps they would