Date: Fri, 12 Aug 2022 17:03:56 +0000 (UTC) From: "niftystories@yahoo.com" Subject: Dump Dude-11 Chapter 11 -- The Standoff Fasten your seatbelts, this is another bumpy ride. Please consider supporting Nifty so that we may continue to enjoy these stories: https://donate.nifty.org/ I opened up right at 8 o'clock and dealt with the early morning rush. I had fastened the holster with the Glock to my belt before leaving the house. But when I got to the trash station I took it off and left it on the desk inside the shed. I just had a hunch that maybe it would be better not to let folks see that I now was carrying. Arizona has long been an open carry state, which means you don't need a permit to carry a gun on you, it just needs to be openly visible. So many folks in this area openly carry a firearm I barely noticed it anymore. Vanderyackt has certainly spread the news of my marriage to Rick. Several folks were very supportive with kind words, more were not so supportive with not-so-kind words. I decided the best approach to take with them was just to say: "That's my personal life, and I don't talk about my personal life while on duty and on county property". That satisfied all but the most conservative jerks' opinion of "that's disgusting" or very religious folks' assurances that I'd "burn in hell". About mid-morning a red Toyota pickup pulled up behind another customer that I was assisting. Even before all this had come up, I'd long had a habit of looking around me, to know what was going on around me. The driver was looking around, mostly upward, at the roof of the fee shed, up at light poles and utility poles, obviously looking for something. I finished with the customer, who pulled ahead, and the Toyota pulled up to me. The driver was middle-aged, balding, and seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face. I looked in the bed of his truck, there was just a small white kitchen bag with some cardboard. I thought that was strange, most folks save up their trash to be worth their while to drive out on the rural road where the station was located. "Two dollars," I told the driver. "Two dollars!" he complained loudly. "Yes, two dollars per bag or can of trash. But, if you waited and saved it up its only six dollars for as much as you can fit in a pickup". He fished the bills out of his wallet. "Damn, the county must make a shitload of money off this". "Not really" I replied as I took the money he handed me. "How much money?" he insisted. I shrugged. "I don't know, I'm just filling in for the regular guy". "Well, you were here yesterday, you must know how much money you make in a day". "Not much" I insisted. "Anything else?". "Well yeah, I'm surprised there are no security cameras around". "Oh yeah, there's a bunch of security cameras" I lied. "Where?" he demanded, once again looking around. "Well, I'm not going to point them out for you. But yeah, out here on a rural road like this? We have security cameras all around. Folks have tried to break in after hours. I guess they can't read". I pointed to the sign that read `No money left on premises overnight. "But the cameras caught their images and their plate number, and we got them". He didn't look convinced but drove off, and I jotted down the plate number. There were no security cameras. And asking about them, and how much money I collected. I was immediately suspicious and sensed danger. I was helping a customer a little while later when I noticed the red Toyota drive past slowly and then pull over a little past the station. I finished with the customer and went inside the shed. I looked out a window and watched as the guy peered out the driver's window with a pair of binoculars, moving around, checking the place out thoroughly. "Making sure there aren't really any security cameras, huh? Ok, something is definitely up". After he left and there were no customers I got the holster and gun from inside the shed and fastened it to my belt. When there were no customers around I practiced drawing the gun and aiming. I glanced at my phone: 3:58. Time to close up. I walked out to the entrance gate, rolled it shut, and placed the padlock on it. As I walked toward the fee shed two pickups came roaring through the exit gate. I recognized Vanderyackt's truck and the Red Toyota pickup, and instantly knew I was in serious danger. I stopped, stood my ground, and placed my hand on the Glock in my holster. The trucks skidded to a stop about twenty feet in front of me. Vanderyackt climbed out of his truck, as did the other guy; their hands were on their guns in a holster. Vanderyackt nodded at me. "So, you started packin'? Smart move, for a snowflake". "He wasn't carrying when I was here earlier" the other guy insisted. "Yeah, well when you ask how much money I collect, and ask about security cameras, you kinda gave yourself away, dumbass. I keep the gun inside the shed, but you were so obviously up to something I decided it best to carry it on me". Vanderyackt turned toward him, likely to curse at him. That automatic reflex that makes you think you have to turn to face someone when you speak to them. I was counting on it, and that's when I made my move. In an instant I pulled the Glock from the holster and aimed it at Vanderyackt, holding it firmly with both hands. I moved my aim from Vanderyackt to the other guy, then back to Vanderyackt. "Your move, assholes". Neither of them made any movement, and we stood at a standoff as the seconds ticked past. The late afternoon sun in the west shined on their faces, giving me an edge. The seconds ticked past. "You ain't gonna be able to get both of us" Vanderyackt spat out. I shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. But which one of you assholes wants to try to draw first and get a bullet in your head? And which one of you who is just a tad slower wants to find out just how fast a shot I am?". The seconds continued to tick past as we remained frozen in place. "Oh" I began, "I always like to be fair, so maybe I should mention that my Glock is custom modded to full automatic?" I bluffed, Vegas style. "I just have to pull the trigger once, until the magazine is empty. By then you'll both be full of bullet holes". The seconds continued to tick past. "Carl?" the other guy said at last, "maybe another time, another place?". Vanderyackt continued to glare at me, intense hatred in his eyes. "Yeah, maybe," he said at last, "maybe another time, another place is best. But this ain't over, cocksucker. This is far from over". I smiled. "Oh, I'm sure it's not over. But keep this in mind, pussy breeder: You picked the wrong faggot to pick a fight with. I never back down, and I always win". Vanderyackt laughed. "You ain't gonna win this one, count on it. Count on a bullet in your back when you least expect it". I snorted. "That sounds like your style, you fucking coward -- shoot a man in the back. Fucking piece of shit. Well, we'll see. But, you have to have more than just two brain cells to win against me, dumbfuck. Now, best you two fellas mosey along, and get the fuck outta here". Vanderyackt nodded to the other guy and they both began to step backward, very slowly, still facing me, until they reached their truck's doors. They quickly jumped inside, started their engines, and tore out in reverse, gravel spitting out from under the tires. They shifted gears forward and sped out the exit gate. I walked into the shed, my heart racing. So that was their plan: Hit me right at closing, when no one was around. Shoot me dead, grab the county's money, and be gone in under a minute. No witnesses, no evidence except a dead guy and missing money. An obvious armed robbery, which would remain unsolved. Smart, except they didn't expect an armed Dave. I hesitated to make another confrontation with Vanderyackt but knew I had no choice but to report it. I called 911 on my phone. "Yes, this is the county trash station out on Mesquite Road. I need to report an attempted armed robbery. Yes, it happened just a minute or two ago as I was closing. Yes, two armed men in different vehicles tried to rob me. I was armed and was able to get the jump on them, and they backed off. What? Two male Caucasians, middle-aged. Yes, I can positively identify one of them, I know him, his name is Carl Vanderyackt. I don't know the other man, but I can describe him, his vehicle, and I got his plate number. About five to ten minutes for a sheriff's deputy to arrive? Ok, I closed at 4 pm, but of course, I'll wait. Ok, thank you". Next I called my boss. "Hi, this is Dave. I'm still out at the trash station. Two armed guys tried to rob me right at closing. Yes, of course, I called 911 first, sheriff deputies are on the way. No, of course, I wouldn't die over the county's money, I would have given it to them if that's all I thought they wanted. But the way they hit me right at closing I figured they planned to kill me and make off with the money with no witnesses. I've started to carry a gun and got the jump on them, and they backed off. Yes, I'll give your name to the deputy and ask them to send you a copy of their report. But can you get someone to cover here tomorrow? I'm pretty upset over this, I almost got killed, and I need to take a day off to calm down. Great, thanks". Two sheriff deputies' SUVs came flying into the trash station. One took out a recording device and I made my statement, describing exactly what happened. "Ok, and you're positive that Carl Vanderyackt was one of them?". "Yes, absolutely sure. He was just here yesterday morning. He identified himself to me, and made threatening remarks to me". "Wait, he threatened you? Did he threaten to rob you?". "No, he's not that stupid. He threatened me personally because he knows I'm gay". "Oh?". "Yes, I'm married to Rick Richardson, the ex-husband of Ellen Richardson". "Ah, yes. We'd sure like to solve her murder. Please, go on". "Well, he apparently really hates gay people, and made a reference to his group he calls `God's Patriots', and that they would come for me". He nodded. "Yes, we know about them". "Well, I don't think robbery was their real intention. Their real intention was to kill me, grab the money, and be gone. No witnesses, missing money, and a dead county employee who apparently foolishly tried to resist. An armed robbery that went bad, end of story". "Hmmm, interesting. Well, we'll certainly interview Vanderyackt, right away. And the other guy?". I described his physical appearance, "Red Toyota pickup, 10 to 15 years old. Here's the plate number". "Ok, he's next on our list. Are you sure you're Ok? You look pretty shaken up". "Yeah, I'm fine". "Well, take care of yourself. And we'll be looking out for you, we county employees take care of one another". I waited until we went to bed to tell Rick what had happened. I knew he would be upset, and I didn't want our children to see him upset like that. He started crying, hugging me tightly. "Oh God, how is this all going to end?". "Oh, I'll end it, you can count on it. I know it had to be Vanderyackt who killed Ellen. I'll end this, with Vanderyackt in prison and you and I and our children all safe. Trust me on this, you have my promise that I won't let them take me from you".