Revolt: the book

Through his sniper scope Crawford counted ten men either sitting in or standing behind the five green Humvees parked in a line on the one side of the road.  The men standing in front of the Humvees were all dressed in the standard digital camouflage BDUs issued by the army.  But this group consisted of federal agents; part of the negotiating team agreed upon earlier. About fifty yards away parked on the opposite side of the road were Crawford’s people, all standing next to their old Ford and Chevy pickups.  Mostly ranchers and farmers, the men were all dressed in jeans and regular shirts, their heads covered from the sun with beat up cowboy hats and faded ball caps.    The two groups were faced off, like a couple bulls deciding who owned the territory they stood on, which in essence was what this was all about.

I hope they don’t decide to fight over it, Crawford thought.  Things could get real ugly. Crawford caught a slight motion from James.  He glanced over and saw James motion with just his finger slowly to the far ridge.  “We’ve got company,” he whispered.

Crawford slowly swung his scope over onto the ridge were James had pointed.  Sure enough he caught a quick flash of light coming from some scrub brush on the edge of the far ridge.  It was a reflection of sunlight bouncing off either binoculars or a scope.  Damn! If they had snipers on their side they must figure on some trouble.  He looked back at James with a question on his face.  James whispered, “I’ll take the ridge.  You cover the targets.  Radio in that this looks shitty.”