The plan had ringing similarities to one launched in the later stages of World War II. A small force of fast moving ground troops would cross the Ohio River into Kentucky at the town of Ashland. A small coal-mining city located near the border of Ohio, Kentucky and West Virginia, it offered several large bridges for a crossing. More importantly, it was as east as you could get before the terrain was deemed too mountainous to pass.

This brigade-sized force would then race one hundred miles westward along Interstate 64 towards Lexington, Kentucky. They would seize and hold the city long enough for the main armored thrust to jump across the Ohio around Cincinnati and drive strait southward to link up with the troops. There would also be a small contingent of reinforcements delivered via air into the Lexington airport once it was captured. The key to the entire operation was speed. The force from Ashland had to cover the distance to Lexington and hold it long enough for the reinforcements to arrive. And they had to do this all before the President could respond in force.

Crutchfield had limited intelligence capabilities but his friends looking to do America harm were only happy to provide what they could. It appeared that after his previous drubbing in Kentucky that most of the forces returned to Virginia while a strong presence remained in the Louisville-Nashville corridor. The central and western portions of the state were lightly guarded. Feints and diversionary attacks would take place further west, and along the main front in the east to draw attention away from the main gambit.

His overall plan was to capture Lexington and open a wedge into Kentucky. Into that salient he could pour resources and create a toehold into the state from which he could push onwards.

Ultimately he remained convinced that capturing Kentucky and Tennessee would allow him to further encircle the President’s force and cause his enemy to dilute his strength defending multiple avenues of attack. It was risky as the President could decide to drive towards Boston, his defacto capital at any time. At that point he’d need every last fighting man and vehicle he could muster. All of the troops dallying in Kentucky would be too far out of position to race eastward.

He had to capture Kentucky and Tennessee before the President found the resolve to crush his base of operations and entire movement. If he could do that, he might have the strength to sue for peace on his terms or defeat the President outright.

It was turning into a race against time.

****

The drive to Woodville was relatively simple for Miller. Other than passing through several checkpoints his route was unimpeded. The ClarMar Farms truck and his identification papers further eased his passage. Still, for good measure he wore a pistol and stowed his rifle behind the seat of the truck should he run into any issues.

His thoughts that morning had little to do with the journey. Miller was worried both about his source of information at City Hall and what Lehman’s next move might be. The ditch digging work of contacting the other resistance groups and forming a more solidified force had been completed. For the most part they were DeMetrie’s concern now. There was always work vetting new people and helping DeMetrie plan his next move, but the bigger picture looming was when and where Lehman’s big strike would fall. They didn’t have the strength to fight toe-to-toe so they had to anticipate it to avoid being smashed into oblivion.

Further, he knew he had been asking too much of a novice agent. While her desire to help was admirable, Miller knew she was in far graver danger than she realized. Getting her killed wouldn’t help anybody’s cause.

As the miles passed behind him, and his container of iced tea drained, another concern was lingering in his mind. Their group had grown to the size where security matters were becoming more pressing. As more people were added to the cause the risks of getting caught or general security leaks increased. More people also meant greater chance for a double agent in their midst.

So far he had no reason to believe anybody would be passing information back to Lehman. But that didn’t stop him from considering the possibilities. Experience taught him to suspect everyone and consider every possibility.

The cold fact remained; more people meant more problems.

The drone of the tires against the tar-chip highway, and the gentle sway of the truck, kept him company as his mind mulled through the various issues.

There were times where going to Wyoming to be with his family seemed very appealing.

****

Tim Barnes was finishing up paperwork at his desk in the early morning. He had a shipment coming in later that morning and one to get out later that day. They would be easy transfers, however, and the day promised to be uneventful.

As he scribbled notes on the various formed needed to keep the business running he kept an eye on the clock. His friend, John Miller, was expected in a short while to pick up some items that had been brought in from the north.

Miller and Clarissa quickly realized the benefit of a nearly wide-open pipeline to the north via the river. Supplies and equipment they couldn’t make or acquire in the south could be brought in from the north through a number of contacts. While some caution had to be exercised to avoid arousing too much suspicion, and there was always a chance of being stopped on the drive back to the farm, the supply chain was relatively secure.

Barnes was acutely aware of the beige colored sedan with heavily tinted windows located across a large open parking lot. It had arrived earlier that morning and remained parked without interruption. Those monitoring their activities weren’t putting much effort into avoiding detection as they had parked in the same spot off and on for weeks.

On occasion, he’d make an opportunity to glance out the large window and verify that the car was still in place. He wanted to update Miller on their surveillance patterns and updated a nondescript crib sheet that noted the dates and times of previous encounters.

“Looks like Miller has turned me into a spy too. He’s got a funny habit of doing that to people,” thought the Reverend turned shipping line manager.