Chapter 73

Images of what the people of Oklasaw looked like had filled Mother White’s mind since she was a small girl watching videos of reenactments from battles in the past during her earliest military classes. It had been years since the Motherhood had waged war against these particular hooligans, but she had a distinct idea of an Oklasawian’s appearance, their patched clothing, mostly denim and flannel, rotten teeth, dirt and grime covering them, as well as their backward ways of thinking that made her confident the representative she’d be meeting with was sure to be ignorant and a waste of her precious time.
She’d agreed to meet with the delegate from Prime Minister Westley Heath’s government, though. Despite the fact that there was nothing the person could say to change their minds about coming over the river. The tracking device tripped by Mist Gretchintown earlier in the day was giving off a clear signal as it headed west, not a direction she would’ve assumed the rebels would be traveling, but then, so far they’d surprised her more than she cared to admit.
The meeting would take place on a boat in the middle of the River Red, allegedly neutral territory. The Mothers had all of the boats at their disposal on the way, but none of them had arrived yet, so White, Jaguar, Scorpion, and a few others would use the partially constructed bridge to board the vessel. It wasn’t ideal; White would feel more vulnerable on an enemy nation’s boat, so far from home, than she would if they could meet on terra firma, possibly in her own nation’s capital. That wasn’t an option. She had over three thousand Military Mothers lined up along the shore, waiting to open fire should the ragamuffins make a move to violence. As far as she could see, the Oklasawians had made no move to amass troops of any sort. She’d be surprised if they even had any to call up. They certainly didn’t have the sort of gun power she did. Still, visions of herself falling overboard, being forced to swim to shore, or being shot and flung over the side, made her hesitant. When the delegate had made the request that the Mothers disarm themselves before they come aboard, she’d refused that portion of the agreement.
About fifteen minutes before the scheduled meeting time, activity drew her attention on the other side of the body of water. At first, it was merely the sound of vehicles in the distance. Then, she began to see figures appearing on the hills across from her. Dressed in greens and browns, some of them were hard to make out. Even with the help of her eye scopes, they blended in so well with the countryside, she couldn’t make out whether she was looking at men or women, how many of them there were, or much else about the Oklasawians. She could tell one thing for sure, though. They were armed.
With a deep breath, she signaled for Scorpion to join her. “Make sure that our forces have guns trained on every one of those enemy troops.”
“Yes, Mother,” Scorpion said, her chin thrust forward as she listened for her commanding officer to continue.
It alarmed White that there were so many, possibly three or four hundred, though they weren’t anywhere close to matching her troop for troop. Their appearance was also unsettling. Not only was their clothing different than she’d expected, those she could make out handled their weaponry with a practiced skill. Perhaps she’d underestimated their readiness for combat.
The roar of an approaching engine caught her off guard. She looked down the river, expecting to see a boat, despite the fact that the engine sound didn’t seem to be coming from that direction. It wasn’t. A moment later, a vehicle came over the rise in the land across from her--on ground. She was baffled but didn’t allow her face to show any consternation. A few theories passed through her mind; maybe the boat would come later. But this vehicle resembled a boat, besides the fact that it wasn’t in the water and was moving anyway.
Gasps of awe and surprise sounded behind her as the troops watched the vehicle continue into the water. White was also shocked that the vehicle was capable of making the transition. Some of the cries around her, which sounded quite unMother-like, seemed to come from women who expected the truck to sink. It didn’t, of course. It floated and continued on its way. Clearly, this was some sort of a carrier capable of land and sea mobility.
The vehicle moved fluidly through the strong current, making its way toward the bridge the Mothers were rapidly putting together to cross the body of water. It was a platform bridge, one that snapped together. The side closest to her was anchored in well, and the bridge itself was halfway finished, as far as length was concerned. The railings had not been added. When it was finished, in a matter of hours once this conversation was over, it should be able to handle the weight of several dozen land riders at one time, but it would not be able to handle their larger transporters. They’d have to find another way to get those across.
“Where is the device?” White asked Scorpion as they began to walk toward the bridge.
“Still moving in a westerly trajectory, going an average of approximately forty-five miles per hour,” she replied, following White to the bridge. Jaguar had been speaking to some of the troops but rushed over to join them as White inspected the anchor of the bridge. It would be slightly dangerous to walk across the wavering platform without the railings on either side, but Mother White would show no fear. Near the end of the bridge, the boat waited. The Oklasawians, two men and a woman near the edge of the boat, were armed with long rifles, holsters on their hips implying they carried more than one weapon each. She couldn’t blame them for keeping their guns visible since she had insisted on bringing hers. She had to assume they wouldn’t pull them unless she did. If she needed to, White’s martial arts skills would allow her to defend herself and unarm many of them in a matter of seconds. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that; she needed to get on her way before President Violet called requesting to know what was taking so long.
Stepping onto the bridge, White kept her head up, despite the movement of the bridge moving left to right, up and down, with the river, swollen from the recent rains. She listened carefully to the footsteps behind her. Some of them sounded uneasy. Then, a bit of a shout and a splash. She turned to glance over her shoulder. One of the women meant to accompany her to the end of the bridge and wait there, Mother Fox, splashed into the water on the left side of the river. Mother White paused, took a deep breath, and kept walking. She’d fallen on the side of the bridge that would push her into the closest platform. She could grab onto it and pull herself out. Or she could drown. Mother White was indifferent. Someone so incompetent and embarrassing may as well dive down to the bottom of the river, find a large rock, and hold on until she blacked out.