Awakening

[The Stig]

Reynolds picked up a second garage door opener and pressed the button. One of the contractor’s trucks, to the far left of his position, exploded in a tremendous roar. Vehicles to either side it burst into flames as they were peppered with shrapnel that also blew out windows and tires.

By this time a group of contractors was running to the scene from the school. DeMetrie’s team had gotten lucky that the majority of the contractors housed in the school were on a mission to the northeastern corner of the county. As such there were only five men in the school at the time of the attack. As the group of contractors ran along the side of City Hall they quickly moved into Reynolds’ line of fire. Quickly, and with no hesitation, Reynolds shot three men in rapid succession. The remaining men sought cover in a stairwell to the basement of the building.

Soon teams of contractors were trying to exit the building and find a position, any position, from which to safely return fire. Some dove behind the sandbagged positions just outside the doors of the building. Those faired the best. Several men tried to run to the positions further away from the building and were quickly gunned down by DeMetrie or Reynolds. Some of the contractors fired off into the night at what they thought might be targets.

The smoke from the grenades hung in the air and created mass confusion amongst the contractors. As their eyes fought to adjust to the darkness, DeMetrie and Reynolds calmly dispatched those foolish enough to stray into the open. Through their night vision goggles they could see clearly, as if it were day and no smoke existed.

To further add to the confusion, DeMetrie tossed a grenade off to one side of his position. Just before it exploded he moved quickly to his left, behind some air conditioning equipment. There he lit and tossed an old fashioned Molotov cocktail into the street off to the contractor’s right. Because of his elevation, and throwing the flaming bottle from a position far back from the edge of the roof, the contractors didn’t see it until it was well away from him and arching down towards the street. By the time the bottle hit and sprayed flaming liquid all over the blacktop DeMetrie was back in his original position and preparing to fire.

****

Hearing the gunfire outside and men running around in confusion, Dink carefully opened the door to the interior hallway. He could see men running past the end of the hall but nobody in the immediate area. He glanced back at Miller before moving off into the hallway. Miller followed closely behind.

They cautiously moved down the hallway towards the jail area. The jail area was at the end of the hall and to the left. After entering the jail area there was an open reception area, with an entrance to the outside, several offices and then a locked door leading to the cell area.

Dink cautiously peered into the reception area and was relieved to find it empty. So far their luck was holding out. He motioned to Miller to take up a position behind the counter so he could cover the hallway they just came down. Quickly moving across the room, Dink found a place where he could see through the large glass doors to the outside. The burning remains of the truck Reynolds blew up illuminated the haze from the smoke grenades, causing a surreal lightshow. Rifle fire punctuated the shouts of contractors as they desperately tried to find their attackers.

Using his keys he quickly moved to unlock the door to the cells. “Let’s hope this works,” he thought to himself as he slid his key into the lock and began to twist the cylinders. If they had changed the locks this plan would unravel quickly. In all the confusion when Aperture Consulting took over command of the county, getting the locks changed in the jail was overlooked. The lock released with a satisfying click and the door popped open.

With a smile Dink moved into the cell area. There were ten cells, five per side. The cells were more like holding cells, and divided by bars, not walls. As such, when he entered the area he quickly found the jail’s sole occupant.

****

The situation outside was slowly starting to turn in favor of the contractors. While DeMetrie and Reynolds had the advantage of stealth, surprise and technology, the contractors had numbers. Twenty versus two is never a good situation, especially if you are on the side with two.

Caddy and Werner both had gotten control of their men and taken up more secure positions behind the sandbags just outside the city hall position. While they couldn’t move for fear of exposing themselves, they had the men inside the building moved into darkened rooms on the upper stories. From there, they could provide covering fire. Caddy and Werner would then lead their teams across the open ground in an effort to draw fire. They’d deal with what they found from there. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was what they had to work with.

They also recalled a patrol that was fifteen minutes away. Those men would come in behind the buildings where they suspected their attackers were hidden and begin setting up a cordon.

On Caddy’s side of the building, the two contractors remaining from the group that was in the high school had an advantageous position in a stairwell. They were just outside the glass doors that led into the jail reception area. From there, they thought they had an idea where Reynolds’ position might be. They laid down some covering fire to allow Caddy the time to get his team ready to go.

Miller and Dink needed to move fast before the situation spiraled out of control.

****

“Sergeant Lowry I presume” said Dink in an oddly cheery voice.

Lowry groggily lifted himself from his bunk. His face was bruised and swollen from an obvious beating and he shuffled to the front of the cell waiting for Dink to turn the key.

“Took you guys long enough” was all the humor he could muster.

Dink smiled, “Come on boy. We’ve got to hustle.” Grabbing Lowry under the arm to support him, he began maneuvering Lowry back towards the reception area. They might just pull this off after all.

[The Stig]

“And go!” commanded Caddy as he pushed his team out from cover. The cover fire erupted from the second story of City Hall and the men in the stairwell as Caddy’s group of three men moved quickly to the outer firing position. Rounds pinged off the front of the buildings around Reynolds. They didn’t have his exact position, but a pretty good idea and the rounds seemed to be getting closer and closer.

He didn’t want to wait too long and get himself caught. As he watched Caddy’s men moving to the outer position, he mentally calculated that he’d let them get to the position. While they were in the process of finding cover he’d pop smoke and then escape out the back of the building.

From his vantage point, DeMetrie could see across the square and noticed one of Caddy’s men who was sticking out the back of their firing position. Most of Caddy’s team was inside the c-shaped area and hidden from view, but this one man set up just slightly outside of the rear of the stack of sandbags and metal. DeMetrie coldly shot him and watched as he slumped over and was pulled from view.

His position of height was both advantageous and dangerous. Height in combat is almost always a better firing position. However, should his position become compromised, he would have to descend three flights of stairs, in addition to losing situational awareness, to get to where he could escape. That was something he wanted to avoid.

When the hail of bullets erupted from the upper stories of City Hall, they flew in all sorts of directions. He was experienced enough to know this signaled the movement of a different team. It was a tactic he had used many times himself.

Realistically they only had a few more minutes at most before they’d have to leave or risk capture.

****

“Just a walk in the park” said Dink as they prepared to make the dash back across the street from City Hall through the janitorial room they had originally entered. They took a minute for Lowry to tie his boots and get ready to make the dash.

Miller opened the door to the outside and started to pull Lowry through it. Just before he did, the doorknob to the inside of the building started to turn. In their haste they didn’t lock it behind them.

The door slowly opened as a young contractor peered into the dark room. Not seeing anything he tentatively stepped inside the space. Immediately he knew something was wrong when he saw the saw the door to the outside wide open. As he quickly crossed the space investigate, he was startled to see a man in the shadows to his left. Before he could react Dink pulled the trigger of the HiPower pistol and it dully coughed. The round crashed into the contractor’s side and spun him around. Falling into a stack of mops the man groaned.

“Sorry son” was all Dink could think as he calmly shot the man a second time. Glancing down through the darkness Dink was shocked to see he recognized the man. He was one of the former Sheriff’s Deputies who had been absorbed into the ranks of the contractors.

Ducking outside the door to the outside and pulling it shut he nodded to Miller. They could hear the gunfire and even see the occasional round that sailed off to the contractors left and sparked off the front of a building. Careful to not drift too far towards the front of the City Hall building and risk detection, they darted across the street and disappeared into an alleyway.

“Clear” was all Miller said into his radio.

****

At the sound of Miller’s voice DeMetrie prepared to make his exit from the scene. The team of contractors had moved into the forward firing positions and they were far enough forward that he’d have to expose himself greatly to put aimed rifle fire on them. Instead he chose to lob one last grenade that exploded just to the side of the sandbags. The force of the explosion knocked them and several of the men behind them, including Werner, to the ground.

As he raced down the stairs he prayed that the contractors hadn’t figured out where he was. If they had, they could very well be waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

****

Picking himself off the ground, Werner and several of his men got ready to make a dash across the street. Men on the third story of City Hall had spotted the gunman in the building opposite their location. Werner was going to enter the building and attempt to pin the man down.

He gave the command and several men from City Hall windows opened up on the front of DeMetrie’s building. Werner and his men dashed across the street, while several more men ran from City Hall all the way across the street. Within a few seconds, seven men prepared to enter the building.

On a signal from Werner one of the men busted out the glass door of the building. After two strikes from the man’s rifle butt the glass surrendered and gave way.

“Alright, move into the building and seal it off. Make sure to find any stairways near the back,” commanded Werner, “and you two go around back and find the rear doors”. The team of contractors returning from patrol to assist them was only a few minutes away and would add to the cordon. With any luck they’d have the man cornered.

****

Just as Werner’s man went to enter the building the helicopter exploded with a tremendous roar. Bits of aluminum and rotor blades shot through the air, some of the fragments reaching Werner’s position and injuring several men. Flames shot into the sky and even from their position Werner could feel the blast wave.

Several shots rang out from beyond the helicopter and added to Werner’s dilemma. If there was another group of men attacking them from that direction, Werner had to deal with that. Depending on the size of the group, he might need all seven of his men.

He hesitated for as second while his men awaited his direction. Just then a smoke grenade landed on the street outside one of the buildings facing City Hall. Anticipating that the smoke was cover for men to move into position Werner barked out orders.

Soon all of his men were moving to a better position to set up flanking fire on any men that might emerge to attack City Hall from the rear.

It didn’t take long for him to realize there wasn’t going to be an attack.

****

On his side of the building Caddy’s men also quickly moved into a better position to begin tracking down the attackers.

Underneath the protective fire of the men behind them, Caddy and several contractors moved across the street. It didn’t take long to realize which building the shooter had been positioned in.

They efficiently tossed flash-bang grenades into the space. After the defining roar they quickly assaulted the space.

It soon became apparent their attacker had long sense left his position. Given his numbers, Caddy had no choice but to return to City Hall.

****

It would be a long, hard ride back to The Farm but after several hours of riding cross-country the exhausted men returned to their makeshift home.

They had gone into the lion’s den and rescued their friend. In doing so they also eliminated a number of contractors and destroyed several vehicles.

Miller and DeMetrie had rolled the dice and won. They both knew that this attack would have serious ramifications. They just hoped their tiny band of men would be able to survive the aftermath.

[The Stig]

The sleek turboprop executive aircraft circled the Shelton airport as the pilot prepared to land. As he circled the airport in preparation he noted the crumpled and burnt out wreck of an aircraft just beyond the end of the runway. His eye was drawn to it by the tire tracks and burnt areas of the grass that surrounded it.

Despite his thousands of hours flying the scene did strike him as a bit peculiar.

Refocusing his attention on the airport as he continued his downwind visual approach he judged the distance before he’d make his turn to base before double-checking his instrument panel.

His passengers voice boomed from the back cabin, “everything on schedule Ted?”

“Yes sir. We’ll be on the ground shortly. I see your car”.

“Excellent,” was the almost jovial reply.

He dipped the nose slightly as he turned to his final approach and gently reduced his power further. Double-checking to ensure he had fully extended his flaps he also monitored his sink rate. It was far too nice a day to splatter his plane all over the runway.

Expertly he flared his aircraft and gently touched down just beyond the large numbers denoting which direction the runway pointed. The tires chirped and there was a gentle deceleration as the reverse thrust slowed the sleek and spotless turboprop to a slow roll.

Within less than a minute the pilot guided the aircraft to a spot on the tarmac just to the side of several large, black SUV’s that looked more like tanks than vehicles to haul soccer moms and four kids to the park.

As the props slowed to a stop the rear door sprang open and fell to the earth. A man in a black suit, sunglasses, an ear piece and close cropped hair stepped from the plane first, scanned the horizon and after motioning to the passenger descended the stairs. Several men, who carried rifles and military uniforms held a small parameter around the vehicles. Like men in that line of work often do, their heads were focused away from the vehicles, scanning for trouble.

“I’ll only be a few hours Ted. No later than this evening,” said the passenger with a broad smile.

“I’ll be ready sir.”

As the driver of the second vehicle fluidly exited his seat and opened the rear door the passenger spryly descended the aircraft stairs and walked directly to the open door.

Within less than a minute all of the men returned to their vehicles and the entire convoy was headed down the road. It was clearly a routine the men had practiced many times before.

****

The pall of the previous nights battle still hung in the air around Shelton’s City Hall complex. While the bodies of dead men were gone, the spent rifle cartridges, the shattered glass, the pockmarks on buildings and blood were evident for all to see.

It was clear that a serious firefight had taken place and the contractors had taken a beating.

As the convoy from the airport pulled into the city center the men in the vehicles scanned the buildings for any sign of trouble. Their vehicles were armored for anything short of a massive IED or tank-busting missile and being unannounced nearly eliminated those as potential threats.

The scene on the airport tarmac was reversed as the vehicles pulled in front of City Hall. All the trucks were parked in such a way that they could leave quickly if needed. The men filed out of the trucks, set up a perimeter and based on a nearly imperceptible nod the passenger immerged. After tugging on his jacket to ensure it was taught he gave the signal and the entire group marched to the doors of City Hall.

Following closely behind the passenger was a small, almost impish man. With slicked back hair and a greasy demeanor, he carried a small briefcase and a large notebook. He dodged and weaved over the spent shell casings that his boss seemingly ignored.

Glancing around at the carnage the man simply whistled.

****

“Caddy, I’m telling you this is bad,” said Werner. Rarely for him, Werner was equal parts angry and scared; angry that his men had been bested, scared what the fallout from the failure would bring.

“We had our assess handed to us on a plate, lost good men and let the prisoner get away. This is not going to end well for us,’ Werner continued.

“Listen Richard,” counseled Caddy as a father would a son. “Yea, we got waxed. Happens. But you can’t shut down because of it.”

“Shut down!” Werner exclaimed. Rage rising in his face. “Who said anything about shutting down?”

“All I’m saying is that we need to fight fire with fire. We’ve raided some farms. Killed some bozos with HiPoints and SKS’s. Big deal. The men we want are pros and we need to find and get rid of them. Nothing else is a higher priority right now. Stop all those roadblocks and checkpoints. Go for the jugular”

Calming himself down Werner muttered, “you’re right. Ok. Let’s grab some lunch and figure out a game plan.”

As he rose the intercom system buzzed, almost startling him. “Sir?” came the voice of Julie, the secretary Werner inherited.

“Yes?” he called out.

Before she could answer Werner’s eye was caught by Caddy suddenly standing from the couch. He nearly leapt to attention, which, needless to say, was rather odd.

Turning to see what Caddy’s saw and caused such a reaction, the blood drained from Werner’s face. Icy chills shot through his veins and for the first time in his adult life he felt like a school boy in front of the principal.

Juxtaposed with Werner’s fear was the demeanor of the guest. He was short at barely 5’6” and was a slight man. His swept back graying hair seemed oddly out of place with his tan skin and nearly white teeth. He was clearly physically fit and his demeanor was of an older uncle who hadn’t visited in some time.

“Richard,” came the booming voice, odd for a man of that size. “I think we need to talk”.

“Please Senator Donovan” came the stammering reply as Werner motioned his guest into his office. “Please come in”.

[The Stig]

The Senator sat on Werner’s couch while Werner gave him an update on the happenings in the area. He danced around the events of the previous night. All the while he was giving the Senator an update, Werner was trying to figure out how Donovan heard about the battle so quickly.

The room was empty of everyone except Werner and the Senator. Even Caddy had left.

“Ok, cut the bullshit Werner,” said the Senator with a jovial smile. “What the hell happened here last night? All of it. Details”.

With a deep breath Werner proceeded to explain in exacting detail what had transpired less than twenty-four hours ago. When he finished, Donovan let the silence fill the room to the point of being awkward. Werner wisely kept his mouth shut.

Donovan then changed the subject and began quizzing Werner about a number of administrative tasks and situations. The conversation lasted a good forty-five minutes before the Senator brought the subject back around to the original topic. It was a tactic aimed at getting Werner comfortable and relaxed, before the Senator moved in with a hammer blow. It was a tactic that had served him well over the years.

“Listen Werner. The last guy who held this post is rotting in a swamp after it was clear he failed. I shitcanned him for far less than what you’ve done. You’re on the edge of a full-blown rebellion here. The only reason you aren’t on the way to a camp is because of your Daddy and me, but that only goes so far in covering your ass.” All the while the Senator was talking his smile and jovial demeanor remained in place, which only served to make the situation that more ominous.

“Senator, I understand”

Cutting him off Donovan continued. “I want your analysis of why things are sideways”

As the silence again filled the room, Werner once again felt like he was standing at the principal’s desk. It was a feeling he did not enjoy.

“Senator, I’ve been following the advice of my second in command, Caddy, who you just met. He’s been preaching an approach of restraint. I’ve wanted to go for the jugular with these troublemakers but have allowed my sentimentality for Caddy to cloud my judgment. He’s also suggested they are local bumpkins when we have a clear reason to believe the men behind most of these attacks are professionals. Perhaps ex-military.”

“Continue” was all the Senator said.

“As I said, I allowed myself to be swayed by his counsel and failed to evaluate the situation correctly. I can assure you Senator, I will not allow that to continue,” said Werner solemnly.

The Senator smiled. “I think that is wise. This is your company after all”.

As Werner began to comment, the Senator abruptly continued, “you will follow every lead, use every source and all of the resources at your disposal. If you can’t bring in enough men to replace your losses or get the job done, I’ll get you more. If any person farts and it smells like a resistance they will be eliminated. Their property will be destroyed and assets seized. There will be no more trips to the camps for these people. Total destruction is what you will provide them”.

“Senator, I understand fully” was all Werner could say.

Again the conversation drifted off to other topics. As the Senator prepared to leave he stood and said, “You do plan to eliminate this Caddy fellow as a problem, do you not?” Again, the broad smile and twinkling eyes gave the question a sinister edge.

Werner looked him dead in the eye. “Sir, I should have put my foot down earlier. He will be dealt with appropriately.”

“I think you can get things back on track here. Keep me posted”.

As the Senator gathered his items and summed his impish assistant he issued several directives on matters outside the country.

He turned back to Werner and said directly, “You will resolve this situation, or I will.”

“Yes Senator” was the neutered reply.

Donovan turned and talked with his aide for another few minutes leaving Werner to stand helplessly. Finally the Senator left City Hall without another word being spoken to Werner.

Standing in his office, Werner watched as the convoy faded into the distance. He acted and acted quickly.

“Julie” he called though the intercom. “Get me the section head of that team we’re sending over to Lumberton tonight. Send him to me right away. Once we’re done you can get me Caddy”.

****

A full hour and a half had passed before Caddy returned to Werner’s office. He was still picking up the pieces from the disastrous attack on City Hall. There were personal effects of dead men to deal with, next-of-kin to notify, staffing issues to resolve and damaged property to repair. In addition, he had a team of men searching the two snipers hides looking for any clues to their identities.

On top of all that, he was still sending out patrols and they had three small raids planned for the night. It promised to be another long evening.

Finally finding time to quickly eat a sandwich he and Werner discussed a number of operational details. Caddy finally broke the ice by asking, “how did it go with the Senator?”
Werner didn’t skip a beat. “Surprisingly well. He’s obviously concerned but expressed confidence that he’d get it handled.”

Their meeting finally wrapped up and as Caddy was preparing to leave Werner said, “I’ve rescheduled that raid in Lumberton for later tonight. 0:400. I want you to tag along. The section leader has been a bit flaky and I want your opinion on him.”

Caddy, somewhat confused by the request replied, “Rogers? He’s been solid. Hell of a shooter too.”

“I think he’s having personal issues. Just ride shotgun.”

Still in the dark about Werner’s intentions Caddy simply agreed.

****

As he sat in his office Werner’s request bounced around his mind. The whole situation was odd especially given the timing.

Chalking it up to post-traumatic stress after the Senator’s visit he continued on with his work.

As he was filling out some reports the team leader who was investigating the sniper’s hides used during the attacks excitedly came into the office. “Caddy, a minute?” was all he blurted out.

With a smile Caddy responded, “Go ahead”.

“Here’s the situation sir. All the brass used in the attack was 5.56x45. The smoke grenades were mil-spec. The accuracy of the shooting was phenomenal despite it being night, smoky and longer distances. The attacks were coordinated suggesting good communications and training.”

Caddy was seeing where this was all headed but let his young contractor continue. “Sir, I’m certain these men are or were military.”

Caddy said, “I agree. We’ve been saying they’re pros all along. Being full-blown military makes sense.”

“It would explain all of the attacks really. So I sent a request to the military command that Senator Donovan put together. I asked for a list of any military desertions from units either in this county or adjoining ones in the past year,” said the contractor with a grin on his face.

“Spit it out before you choke on it,” said Caddy with a grin.

The young contractor pulled out three color photographs from a folder and handed them to Caddy.

“Look familiar?”

One picture was clearly the man they had captured and held prisoner. The other two were likely the men Caddy had seen at ClarMar farms.

“Well done. Very well done,” said Caddy while he patted the young contractor on the shoulder. The youngster showed a lot of promise for the future.

“Anybody else know about this?” asked Caddy.

“No sir”

“Ok. Keep it that way. I want to verify a few things before I present this to Mr. Werner. You’ve done a good job, I just want to make sure we have all our details straight first. No slight on your work. ”

“Yes sir”.

“You did great work son. This is excellent.”

“Thanks Caddy. I appreciate it.”

As Caddy prepared some gear for the nights mission he thought about the pictures and service records that sat on his desk. Werner was up to something. Caddy couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was odd. The man had been on edge for weeks and was now completely calm despite having been called on the carpet by the man who could sentence him to death with the snap of a finger.

Something was up. Caddy decided to hold onto the information about the men until he could figure out what was going on.

[The Stig]

“Feel good to be back amongst the living?” asked Barnes of the still swollen and exhausted Lowry.

Lowry smiled and attempted humor but couldn’t come up with anything to say other than, “Yea, I’m glad to be back”.

It was late in the evening before the men started stirring after their adventure at City Hall. Everybody, DeMetrie included, collapsed into a deep slumber when they got back from the raid. For the first time ever, DeMetrie didn’t force the men to stow their gear before turning in.

Lowry, Barnes and Reynolds sat in the makeshift “team room”. Barnes had been up most of the day and stowed a majority of the gear. Serving the two men breakfast his attitude was upbeat. He was just glad his newfound friends had returned safely.

“I’m sure my eggs aren’t as good as the prison food you are accustomed too” said the former minister with a smile.

“I’m sure the shower situations here is much nice too” quipped the Sergeant through swollen jaws.

After more horseplay and friendly banter Barnes left the two soldiers to themselves.

There was a long silence as both men reflected on their thoughts. It had been a sobering experience for both of them. They had been in combat before, but for some reason this had a different feel to it. It was as if somehow shooting terrorists made sense but fighting against fellow American’s didn’t.

Being soldiers both men knew there really wasn’t anything that needed to be said.

****

It was well into the night when Miller suddenly returned to The Farm. After sleeping in he went off on one of his many excursions through the countryside. The men all knew he was gathering intelligence from a number of places and knew better than to ask about the details. .

“Look alive” he said as he entered the team room. DeMetrie and all the other men were lounging around playing a friendly game of cards. They immediately turned their attention to the man who so far had always delivered the goods.

“Senator Donovan was in town today” came the startling announcement. “He flew in, meet with our friends at City Hall and then flew out again.”

“Papa bear wasn’t happy” chimed in Dink.

“Apparently word of our little party traveled fast. The man himself came to investigate. That means the defecation is going to hit the ventilation,” continued Miller. “No word on where the contractors are going or what they are doing yet. But you know a reprisal of some sort is coming. If they have any indication to believe ClarMar is involved they’ll hit there.”

Everybody in the room was experienced enough to know that would not be a good situation at all.

DeMetrie chimed in without hesitation. “There will be two men stationed near the main farmhouse in two hour stretches for the rest of the night. Another man will patrol the woods around here. The other two will rotate in and out as needed. Mr. Barnes we may need to add you to the mix too since Sergeant Lowry’s on limited duty”.

“Uh,” came the nervous reply, “I’m not sure I’m up to that. You guys are the soldiers.”

“Nonsense Rev, you are already a solider in the Lord’s army,” quipped Dink.

“Mr. Barnes you will do just fine,” said the Captain, ignoring Dink’s remarks.

“Gear up. Reynolds and Roberts will take first watch at the house. I’ll take perimeter duty here. Miller and Barnes are on deck. Lowry, you’ll be equipment master for now. Rotate the gear, keep the comms up. You know the drill.”

“Roger that Captain” responded Lowry.

Continuing on the Captain said, “Lowry, take charge of having the gear ready in the event we have to haul ass for good. Use Miller and Barnes to help. Everybody takes full gear needed for a heavy engagement. If you see contractors make the call if you need to engage. Take a full load of ammo gentleman. It might not come tonight, but if what Miller found out is true, it is coming.”

All of the men realized the situation could spiral out of control in the very near future.

****

The entire bridge deck trembled as the first tanks rumbled across the span over the Ohio River. As the M1A1 Abrams tank clattered across the deck at top speed a line of other tanks and armored vehicles stood staged and ready to make the same crossing. At that crossing point there were five other major bridges within a mile of each other, all of them were witness to the same scene.

Resistance was light. Most of the Federal troops had been pulled into the Eastern part of Kentucky en route to reinforce the troops in and around the Virginias and Maryland. President Alan remained resolute in this fascination with protecting Washington DC and Crutchfield used that obsession to his advantage.

The young commander who engineered the victory at the Battle of Franklin had moved heaven and earth to assemble and launch his attack plans. He was bold and had an uncanny ability to move troops and supplies in such a way to avoid gridlock and keep his forces moving. Despite being a traitor he was truly gifted in the ways of warfare.

Sensing the opportunity for an end run of epic proportions, Crutchfield continued to funnel troops and supplies to his talented young commander. He was able to rapidly increase the size of the attack force when the states of Michigan, Indiana and what was left of Ohio threw their lot in with Crutchfield. All three states had been wrecked by years of out of control social policies and spending, but despite this miserable failure the major urban centers favored the Liberal Crutchfield and drove the states policies. Those who didn’t agree fled the states in droves.

The young commander had cobbled together a sizable force of armor, mechanized troops, artillery and even aircraft. What he lacked, however, were the massive support structures needed to keep a force like that moving. For every one combat solder two or three support personnel were needed to provide the ammunition, food and fuel needed to keep the army flowing.

The commander and Crutchfield knew that they had to keep the momentum of the attack moving by adding new forces as rapidly as possible. So far they had added large numbers of active military, reserve units and even recently retired soldiers as they tore through the eastern Midwest. It was almost a paradox that if they stopped to regroup properly the entire attack would collapse. If they continued on, no matter how recklessly, the attack would succeed.

The President missed a golden opportunity to repel the attackers and stop the assault dead in its tracks. The ground opposite the Ohio side of the river rose rapidly by nearly two hundred feet from the river level. From these imposing heights they could have easily crushed the tanks, one by one as they attempted to cross. Further, since the young commander had riskily decided to cross the Ohio using the existing bridges near Cincinnati, his forces all had to funnel through the downtown areas at one point or another as they staged in preparation to roll across the bridge.

It would have been a prime opportunity to blow them all to kingdom come.

Instead, light forces were left in place. Several TOW antitank missiles impotently reached out in a futile attempt to destroy their targets and only succeeded in giving away their launching position. Attack aircraft promptly swooped in to eradicate the fire teams. Exploding shells from artillery threw plumes of smoke and dirt high into the air as they pounded the opposite bank.

Within five hours the majority of the assault force had crossed the river and established a secure perimeter that afforded the time for the rest of the force to cross.

The interior of Kentucky was laid bare before the young commander. He wanted to bypass Louisville and drive towards Nashville to avoid the rising mountains in the Eastern part of the state.

With any luck he would roll his forces into the Music City within the week.

[The Stig]

“Listen, you take lead. I’m just along for the ride,” said Caddy to the young section leader who was to command the farm raid in Lumberton.

Caddy was uncomfortable as the men expected to be on the raid, his men, had been replaced by some contractors from a different company. Caddy had not worked with them previously and did not care to work with men he didn’t know. But Werner gave the order and paid the bills.

“Copy that,” he responded as the men looked at a paper map spread over the hood of their SUV. “Just to review the plan, we’re going to dismount here, approximately one mile from the target. We’ll hump it the rest of the way to maintain surprise. TM1 and TM2 will take the main house. TM3 will go right, Caddy to the left. I’ll hang back and provide cover support.”

All of the men nodded their heads in agreement as he continued. “We don’t expect much resistance. The informant indicated this is an older couple and their adult son. He might be a problem. According to Werner we are to drop him on sight. We wait on the couple until we can search the house and the grounds. Once we get any information out of them they go too.”

Again all of the men nodded their heads.

“Comms are channel 5. Rally point if this goes tits up is the truck. If you hear delta-delta-delta break contact and return to the truck pronto. Go in hot.”

As the truck took them the last few miles to their starting off point Caddy was lost in his thoughts. He was a solider, plain and simple. He followed orders and carried out the will of others. He had no qualms about defending himself, but he was suddenly struck by the young section leads words. “According to Werner we are to drop him on sight”. No trial. No investigation. No crimes reported. Just an instant death sentence.

Caddy held no illusions about what has happening in the camps, but at least there was a hint of due process there. It was enough to ease his conscious. But going out as defacto death squads? This didn’t sit well with the man well acquainted with death.

The truck rattled to a stop and all of the men dismounted.

“Alright, we go in hot,” said the section lead.

He couldn’t help but question Werner’s demeanor after Donovan’s visit. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was definitely out of place. Noticing things that were out of place had kept him safe for a long, long time.

The experienced men quickly covered the last mile to the farmhouse. A long light hanging from a barn illuminated a small portion of the area around the house. Being that it was very early in the morning all the lights of the home were off.

Using hand signals the section leader urged the men forward and they all responded, on cue, as trained men do. As they slowly crept into their positions Caddy kept an eye on things from his vantage point on the left. He could see the two team members on the front porch, and the section leader who positioned himself about 15 yards from the front door behind an old cast iron bathtub conveniently sitting on its side.

All of the men quietly signaled their readiness and the section simply whispered “go” into his radio microphone.

Within a fraction of a second the deafening blast of a shotgun began the process of removing the door from it’s hinges. Within less than a second, three thunderous shots sent the door flying inward in to the home. The two men on the porch followed closely behind it.

Radioing that the second floor was secure, they awaited the man positioned to the right of the farmhouse to join them before proceeding. The section lead held Caddy in position about ten yards to the left of the house to prevent anyone from trying to leave through the back.

Before the third man could enter the home loud yelling from an adult male punctuated the still night air. His shouts of anger were quickly silenced by several loud rifle shots. Noticing a light on the second floor suddenly turning on, the section lead advised his men of the activity.

“Second floor lights on” was all it took to express the danger.

There was a long pause, nearly so long that Caddy started to wonder what was transpiring inside the home. The seconds seemed to stretch into minutes before a single shot, followed by multiple and nearly constant rifle shots. A woman’s voice pierced the old farmhouses walls with a scream of terror before it too was drowned out by rifle shots.

“Report” demanded the section leader.

“All clear. All three are down” came back the emotionless reply.

[The Stig]

All four men stood on the porch after searching the house and finding nothing but a couple of hunting rifles and shotguns. Despite the reports the people had been suspected of being part of a resistance movement there wasn’t anything to indicate their involvement in anything other than the FFA and local Rotary Club.

Pointing to TM1 and TM2, the section leader said, “You two torch the place. The rest of us are going to sweep the outside before we head back to the truck.”

As they worked their way around the grounds Caddy could see the other two men inside the house as they attended to their assigned task.

The section lead had meandered off to look at a small shed to the left of the farmhouse while Caddy and the other man looked inside the horse stalls and chicken coop.

“Hey Caddy” called out the fourth man. “Come look at this”.

Walking around the rear of the small structure to investigate the situation further Caddy responded to the man’s request. As he rounded the corner of the small animal shelter he was surprised when the man’s flashlight momentarily blinded him.

Caddy was experienced enough to not say anything and instead took in a quick, deep breath. He knew what was coming.

As his eyes readjusted to the dark night it was clear the man had his pistol aimed directly at Caddy’s chest. “Sorry Caddy. Luck of the draw,” was all he said.

The report of the pistol seemed all that much louder being several feet away and to the front of the pistol. Bits of hot, unburnt gunpowder pelted Caddy in the case, singing his skin. People have often said they could shoot instinctually and without referencing their sights at very close distances. Caddy’s life was saved because those people were wrong. It was possible to miss, even at close distances, when the gun isn’t aimed properly.

It had been a fluke. Caddy was positioned just slightly to the contractors left. The contractor’s gun had been off slightly to the right. The bullet passed harmlessly through the fold of Caddy’s jacket near his side and flew off into the night.

While the contractor was stunned by Caddy not falling down, Caddy wasted no time and sprung forward with all the force he could muster. Using his rifle to add force to his blow, he knocked the man backwards, and they both crashed to the ground. While the man’s pistol flew into the night, Caddy’s handgun was drawn with lightening speed. Two hundred and thirty grains of copper coated lead turned the contractors heart to liquid. What little of it remained twitched spasmodically as the electrical impulses were scrambled beyond repair.

As he quickly pushed himself up and sprung behind the limited protection of the animal stalls he realized his previous decision to walk behind the stalls paid off as the rifle rounds thumped into the heavy wooden timbers of the building. Had he been standing in front of the building when the contractor attacked him he would have been exposed and defenseless to the rifle rounds currently knocking large holes in the dried and aged timbers.

Forcing himself to breath he debated his options. There weren’t many available to him. There were woods twenty yards behind the small shed. The yard was wide open for nearly one hundred yards to either side of the building and going back towards the farmhouse and three heavily armed, and experienced men wasn’t appealing either.

He sensed one of the men approaching from the right. Figuring it was one of the men who were sent to burn down the farmhouse he realized his chances of covering the ground to the woods were gone. Time was running out.

The contractor’s eyes widened when the pen-flare’s distinctive POP noise and blast from the flare hit him at the same time. While doing little physical damage, it provided Caddy with just enough time to raise his rifle and shoot the contractor several times in the face. A mass of blood and skull misted into the air as the lifeless body collapsed to the ground in a heap.

Quickly crossing behind the building, he took up a position at the left hand corner. He covered the distance in three strides and cleanly dropped out from behind the edge of the building in such a way that nearly none of his body was exposed. The contractor, clearly taken by surprise, was standing in the middle of an open yard less than ten yards away. His body crumpled to the ground after four rounds cleanly impacted his upper torso area.

Caddy had used the angle of the building relative to the contractors approaching it, and the interior lines of movement to his advantage. His experience was trumping their zeal.

A round whizzed by his head, close enough that he could feel the heat of the bullet. Cursing himself for forgetting the section leader he was behind the building again before the second round was fired.

Again forcing himself to breath deeply and feed his brain rich, oxygenated blood, he had to weigh his options.

He wasn’t going to get lucky again. The two contractors approaching him had been stupid. The missed shot of the other man had been pure fortune. He didn’t want to go back to the well of Lady Luck too many times.

Mentally judging the angle to keep the small building between him and the section leader, he took another deep breath and dashed towards the relative safety of the woods, a tantalizing twenty yards away.

He had taken four big steps, probably the biggest steps he had ever taken, when another round angrily flew past his head, missing by a matter of inches. He was approaching all the speed the older man could muster when the section leader let loose a volley of well-aimed fire that crashed into the dirt all around Caddy as he ran. Like a scene out of a movie, fountains of dirt kicked into the air around him as he ducked and weaved to the best of his abilities.

His haven in the woods was a mere five yards from his grasp. Preparing to launch himself headfirst into the underbrush he heard the report of a second rifle. Again cursing himself, it dawned on him that the last contractor he shot had been wearing body armor. While he probably had nasty bruises, Caddy’s rifle rounds had not taken him out of the fight.

As he dove headlong into the underbrush he realized their protection would only last a few seconds.

His chances of seeing another sunrise were diminishing rapidly.

****

It had been a long night. Dink and Miller ended up pulling a rotation guarding the main house together. All of the men gladly pulled their weight without complaint despite being pushed to exhaustion. Between previous missions, the attack on City Hall and now this, the toll was starting to wear on the men.

It was a problem that Miller and DeMetrie wrestled with for a while. How do they reach out to other people to increase the size of the resistance without giving away who they were? All it would take was an invitation to the wrong person and their entire operation would come crashing down around them.

“Damn son, I am tired,” said Dink quietly into his radio.

Dink and Miller had taken up different positions. Dink was nearer the road by the main driveway. Should a load of contractors come storming in he would engage and slow them down long enough for Miller to join him and the rest of the team to take up positions around the house.

Miller was situated in the yard, well out of sight. Should contractors approach on foot he’d do the same although the task would be more difficult. Greg and Clarissa were taking turns getting rest in the event something happened. Reverend Barnes was supposed to be staying at the farmhouse to give them extra help, but was so busy with gear and supplies in the past few days that he never made it. At the very least, they had assembled what they’d need in the event they had to leave their farm in a hurry and pre-staged with DeMetrie’s men.

It wasn’t a perfect plan, but given their current resources, it was all they could muster.

“Join the club” was the only retort Miller could come up with.

It was a beautiful night. Despite being moonless, there were stars twinkling in the night sky and the air was calm. Miller could hear small animals moving around somewhere in the distance. Had they not been on guard expecting an attack it would actually be a peaceful time.

Reminding himself to stay alert he did some mental exercises to ensure he didn’t doze off. He allowed himself to miss his wife and child, in a safe but far-away place, for a few minutes.

Miller slapped himself back to reality and the mission at hand. There was work to be done.

[The Stig]

Werner laid on his couch, drifting in and out of sleep. The half empty bottle of Jack Daniels, still open, sat on the floor, a silent testament to his efforts to drown his guilt.

A tiny part of humanity hung onto the guilt of sentencing Caddy to death and using him as a scapegoat for the failures. Deep down he liked the man. But that smattering of humanity was drowned out by the screaming needs of self-preservation in the face of Senator Donovan.

He was waiting for the radio call from the section lead tasked with disposing of the smear on Werner’s conscious. With that radio call he’d know the situation was over and there was nothing that could be done.

A couple of manila folders, with information nobody would care about in a few days silently fell to the floor as Werner once again drifted into sleep.

****

Caddy forced himself to breath deeply and calm down as best he could. His situation was perilous at best. His dash into the woods gave him a few seconds of head start over the two contractors whose goal was to kill him, but it wasn’t much.

His luck continued to hold out as the young section leader overlooked the use of night vision equipment on the mission. The dark night provided opportunities to hide and use cover to his advantage, but the night was fading and that protection would soon end.

Only a few yards into the woods the ground started sloping downwards. Even with his fevered running he could tell he was starting to go downhill. He could hear the two contractors entering the woods as small branches cracked and clothes rustled against fabric. A human can move quickly through the woods. He can also move surprisingly quietly. What he cannot do, however, is both at the same time.

As such, the contractors were making as much noise as he was.

Angling away from the farm Caddy continued moving as quickly as he dared in the dark woods. Occasionally a small branch would smack his face, or thorn tear at his pant legs, but these were minor irritants compared to what the contractors had in store for him.

Just as he was contemplating stopping to gage where the men were, the ground suddenly gave way. Despite his best efforts, he involuntarily exclaimed “shit” loud enough for the contractors to hear. They altered their track to move in the general direction of the noise.

Within seconds Caddy had slid nearly fifty feet into a ravine that ended in a small creek. While painful, the slide helped him cover a great deal of distance in a short period of time. He had gained a few extra precious seconds.

The cold water splashed at his feet as he attempted to hug the bank of the creek and continue moving away from the contractors. Over and over he told himself, “just keep moving” as his thighs started burning and lungs began protesting against years of cigar smoking. Suddenly road marches in Parris Island seemed to be a hundred years in the past.

As quickly, but carefully, picked his way through the mass of stones along the creek-bed, and fallen trees he suddenly heard the loud voice of one of the contractors. It was impossible to judge the distance but it was clear he had found his way into the ravine and was pushing in Caddie’s direction.

****

As the young contractor approached the large fallen tree that spanned the entire creek bed he knew it was the perfect place for an ambush. The tree had fallen from about ten feet up the hillside and angled down as it crossed the water.

He’d already fallen once and he cursed the water that caused his uniform to chafe against his skin. He was wet, cold, tired and frankly scared. The pounding bruises on his chest from where Caddy’s bullets had crashed into his chest armor didn’t help matters.

Making a quick decision, he decided to duck under the tree trunk, where there was a small gap of four to five feet for him to pass. Bending over deeply at the waist he tried to duck under the branch as quickly as possible to minimize his exposure. It was a horrible mistake that would cost him his life.

Caddy was betting the man would choose expediency over wisdom and had perched himself on some tree branches that jutted out from the side of the trunk over top of the small opening. Had it been light the contractor would have seen the branches and chosen a different route. But in the dark, while moving, and being winded, the contractor didn’t realize the branches were being blocked from his view by the trunk.

The contractor had just started to raise back up when Caddy simply let go and allowed his full weight, dropping several feet to land on the man’s back. An electric shock shot through Caddy’s body as his jaw connected with the man’s helmet. Within a fraction of a second the contractor was laying face down in several inches of water, Caddy sprawled out on top of him.

Fighting through his bodies desire to go unconscious, Caddy drove his arm underneath the contractors neck and pulled back towards his body with all his remaining strength. Despite being wet from the creek water, and the contractor squirming, Caddy pulled harder and harder, even using his other hand to tighten the arm across his adversary’s trachea.

Within seconds the contractor stopped squirming. This time Caddy would ensure the man didn’t rejoin the fight later on. His fighting knife slid underneath the man’s exposed windpipe and in one smooth motion Caddy jerked his head to one side and cleanly slashed the man’s neck as he’d been trained to do all those years ago.

His celebration didn’t last long as he could hear the section leader moving through the woods somewhere up the hillside. The contractor had chosen wisely to use the height to his advantage.

Quickly he moved up the opposite hillside as fast as his aching legs would move. It didn’t take long before he could hear the other contractor, nearly across from him on the opposite bank. Caddy stopped dead in his tracks and tried to control his breathing. His lungs were screaming in agony and his panting seemed loud enough to be heard three counties over.

Both men knew the other was close but couldn’t pinpoint the location in the darkness. The chase quickly turned into a twisted form of siege warfare. Each man determined to outlast the other. Caddy’s problem was he didn’t have time. The sun would start peeking over the horizon soon taking away what little advantage he might have. The contractor could afford to wait, call in reinforcements and run Caddy down like a hound does a coon.

Playing off the young mans aggressiveness Caddy carefully fished one of his flashlights from a small pocket on his chest rig. This flashlight had a red filter that was held against the lens by a spring-loaded catch. Moving the catch so that it just barely held the filter in place he cautiously turned on the flashlight. The light was so muted that it was barely visible.

Using his wrist he tossed the flashlight in a high arc hoping it would reach the creek bed. Lady luck smiled on him yet again and the light cleared through several tree branches and landed sharply against a rock near the bottom of the hill. The force of the impact caused the catch to open and the filter to snap out of place. In doing so a brilliant beam of LED produced light pierced the darkness like a lighthouse in a harbor.

Instinctually, the young contractor fired several rounds towards the bottom of the creek bed. It was all Caddy needed. The bright rifle flashes pinpointed the contractors location just enough for Caddy to find the man trying to kill him.

The section leader didn’t know what hit him. Using his sound suppressed rifle the first muted crack of the rifle had barely crossed the creek bed when Caddie’s long burst of automatic fire slammed into the contractor. Caddy had learned long ago that short, well-aimed shots were better than Hollywood style bursts but didn’t want to leave anything to chance given the circumstances.

The young contractor moaned for several minutes before his life oozed out into the ground. Insects were already picking up the scent of death.

Retrieving his small flashlight even the world-weary Marine thought to himself, “damn! I can’t believe that worked.” With a wry smile Caddy collected his thoughts as he moved out. He wanted to put as much distance behind him before daylight. It wouldn’t pay to be in the area when Werner realized he wasn’t dead.

[The Stig]

As the sun peaked through the windows of the City Hall office Werner had called home for the past few months, Werner awoke from his slumber. He was instantly awake, though the alcohol haze lingered.

He quickly called down to the communication center from his desk phone. “Did the Lumberton team we sent out last night return?”

Finding out that it hadn’t Werner instantly expected trouble.

He covered the distance to his communication center, arranged in a sheriff deputy’s old office, in seconds.

“Try to make contact with the team. Caddy was on it,” he instructed.

After several fruitless minutes of trying to contact the team Werner knew there was a problem. Unless troublemakers wiped out the entire team, which was unlikely, Caddy was probably still alive.

Werner staggered back to his office. Worry crept over his face as the reality of the situation crashed down around him. As long as he was alive, Caddy would never stop trying to kill him.


****

The lead elements of Crutchfield’s forces would be on the outskirts of Louisville, Kentucky by the end of the day. His young commander was driving his forces hard and pushing them along the Interstate 71 corridor as fast as their tracks and wheels would allow. The bulk of his troops wouldn’t reach the city until well into the following day, but his lead units would see the downtown buildings before nightfall.

So far his plan was going according to schedule. Once it was determined that there would be no Federal resistance to his movements he had a free pass to Nashville with one exception: Fort Knox.

In addition to the world famous gold repository, which the Federal Government surely wouldn’t abandon, Fort Knox was also home to an infantry division, engineer battalions, a Marine corps detachment, various national guard units and an aviation transport brigade. But what really worried the commander, what had been gnawing at him since he pieced together the plan, was the armored warfare training school garrisoned at the base.

While most of the school had been transferred to Fort Benning in Georgia and thus under Senator Donovan’s control, there were still armored assets in the area. What he didn’t know, and didn’t have intelligence about, was how many assets there were.

If there were a few tanks they would constitute little more than an irritation. Should there be a significant number of armored vehicles in the area, in combination with whatever troops the President may have left stationed at the base, it could become a real problem.

The limited intelligence hinted that most of the troops had been sent eastward to protect Virginia and Washington DC. The commander was counting on speed to swiftly encircle and cut off whatever forces might be in the area. The forces coming behind his armored thrust would then deal with whatever trapped forces there might be while he drove on to Nashville. But he had to be careful. If he simply dashed past the 100,000 plus acre facility a counter-attack would pierce his extended line like a blowtorch through butter.

Nashville was the key to the entire plan. If he could capture the city it would trigger far more advanced support for Crutchfield. More importantly, it would allow them to trap most of the Federal forces in the Virginia’s and Carolinas. Crutchfield would have the luxury of having the young commander turn eastward and have his overall forces attack from several different directions at once.

If they could deal with Fort Knox quickly the door would be open to Nashville and a potential devastating blow to the Federal forces. From there only Crutchfield would decide if his next move was destruction or forging a whole new power structure in the country.

Of course, anybody who knew Crutchfield for any length of time knew the answer to the question.

****

Clarissa Barnes sat in her office in the late morning. She tried to distract herself from the anxiety of not knowing what blow was coming next by immersing herself in work. She still had a farm to run. The fledgling resistance depended on her farm. It provided income, food, supplies and a convenient base of operations.

Between invoices, thoughts of her dead husband, productivity reports, worry if an attack would hit them, and fear of the future her mind wildly alternated between moments of calm and sheer panic.

She wondered how men like Miller and Captain DeMetrie could handle the pressure and stresses they faced on a daily basis.

As she read over an invoice for a delivery of fertilizer she caught herself mentally calculating how much she could siphon off for the team to use as makeshift explosives. She couldn’t take too much as she needed the material for her farm and large repeat orders would raise suspicions. There was only so much one farm could use. Too little and it wasn’t worth the effort.

She smiled and wondered how she went from being a farm manager to thinking about fertilizer bombs.

After several hours of work she pushed back from her desk. She was tired and it was time to get her fathers lunch put together. Just as she went to stand up she was startled as the door to the office opened.

“Who’s there?” she called out, as she was not expecting any visitors.

“It’s us” called out Dink, careful not to use his name.

She nearly fainted as she rounded the corner of her office door and stopped dead in her tracks. Before her stood Dink Roberts and Reverend Barnes holding a disheveled, dirty and haggard looking older man between them. The man’s head hung low and it was clear he barely had enough energy to hold it higher.

“Ma’am” said Dink, “this weary traveler claims to know you. We caught him walking down the main driveway, plain as day. Said his name was….er…..Chevy or something.”

The short, squat man with the buzz cut hair style looked up at her.

“I think you meant Caddy” she corrected Dink.

[The Stig]

Miller, DeMetrie, Greg, Clarrisa and Dink stood around the table in the upstairs room of the Donner farmhouse. The room had become their defacto conference room.

“Beats me” said Dink, “He came stumbling down the road, like a one man parade. Made it real clear he wasn’t a threat. Rifle was disassembled in stuffed in his pack. Pistol in there too.”

“Where’s the son of a bitch now?” asked Greg.
Clarrisa spoke up quickly, “Reynolds and Barnes are keeping an eye on him in one of the shop buildings.”

Dink smiled and with a big twinkle in his eyes said, “We may have laced his drink with some horse tranquilizers. He’s having a nice nap.”

“But he’s adamant that he knows this farm is the epicenter of the rebellion and wants to join up?” asked Miller skeptically.

“That what the man said,” replied Dink.

DeMetrie, in his usual way, guided the conversation in a specific direction. “This is a big problem. If he’s a plant, and we show our hand, the contractors will tear us apart the second they realize how small we really are. If he’s the real deal and we bounce him he might go spill the beans anyway.”

Greg declared, “I don’t care what he says. He’s one of them.”

“You don’t know that Dad.”

“It’s a hell of a risk if you decide to take him in,” counseled Dink.

The conversation continued in various directions and iterations of “what if” until Miller finally spoke up. “This might be the break we were looking for”.

The statement caused all eyes to fall on Miller.

“Being one of the high ranking contractors in the area, he knows what other suspected resistance groups are out there. He could be the bridge to them. He’ll have intelligence on who’s working out there, how big they are, maybe even who’s in them. If we hear names we like we can make the contact. Saves us a lot of risk”

Miller’s words hung in the air as everyone else processed what he was saying.

“You think you can trust him?” countered Greg.

“Keep him sleeping for a few hours. I’ll verify that he went off the reservation. That’s a start. Then I’ll have a little chat with him.”

“Smells like a set up” was all Greg could say.

“Could be. But it’s a risk we have to take unless we plan on the group staying this size until the end of time” replied Miller.

“First things first,” decided the evenhanded DeMetrie. “Miller, you go work your voodoo magic as a start. We’ll keep him on ice until then.”

****

The attractive young lady guided her car into the old filling station on the edge of town. Parking around the side she quickly got out of the car and went to the payphone. One of the few remaining payphones in the county, it hung in a secluded area that allowed some degree of privacy for making calls.

Payphones had regained their popularity since the advent of cellphone jamming by Senator Donovan. It was not all that unusual to see people on them as they attempted to make the local calls that were still allowed.

She glanced at her watch and then dialed the number she had memorized long ago.

The phone was answered immediately.

“Did you lose any high ranking members lately?” came the disembodied voice.

“Yes”.

“Any idea why he left?”

“I heard the boss discussing an employee problem and that it was bad. Lots of closed office doors and hushed meetings,” said the young lady as she glanced around to make sure nobody else was around.

There was a long pause. Long enough that the lady asked, “hello?” into the phone to ensure the other person had not hung up.

“How did he treat his men?” came the man’s inquiry.

“Excuse me?”

“His men. How did he treat his employees? Nice, bad, jerk, good guy?”

Thinking for a second the young lady said, “He was nice. I liked him. He cared about them and always treated them right.”

“You need to get back to work” came the voice from the receiver. The electronic click signaled the end of the call.

Hanging up the phone she smiled and walked back to her car. They had worked out the signal for a meeting. He would call and ask if marriage licenses were issued on Tuesdays. If she could make her way to the payphone in the next thirty minutes her response would be, “yes, but only till five pm”. If there were no way to get to the phone safely she’d reply, “yes, and please remember to bring two forms of identification”.

There was always the chance she would get caught up in a meeting, or have someone standing next to her who’d realize what she doing, but so far the system worked.

It was all very James Bond and in a way it was exciting. For a young lady stuck in a small rural town it was a thrill to sneak around, use code and play amateur spy.

What Julie, the City Hall secretary, didn’t realize was that she was playing a very dangerous game.