Chapter 5 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Myles looked out the window of the minivan as the fields, clad in early summer crops of soybeans, corn, and winter wheat approaching ripeness. The northern half of South Kansas was almost entirely agricultural, while the southern half was mostly forest, much of it hilly. There were a handful of Freeholds hidden in those southern hills, Myles knew. He had visited the area a few times, sometimes hunting the deer which would overrun the area quickly if not culled by regular hunting. Myles wasn't too enthusiastic about hunting in areas with other hunters around. Most of them were either city people convincing themselves of their manliness, or uncultured small-town and rural dwellers who were primarily interested in getting drunk and killing something. And, of course, just as the city dwellers boasted of their exploits back at the office or factory , the country folk would brag about how much they drank and the deer they killed. Still, Myles thought, it was something that needed doing. He and Sir Walter were in the second row of seats, with two Mike Charlie men in front. Myles looked over at the tablet computer Sir Walter was using. He was conversing with someone, Myles knew. Probably planning their next activities. They had met with Jeffrey Mannis earlier in the day, and both liked him. A very nice young man he seemed, and some preliminary investigations had indicated that he was generally regarded as such by those who knew him. It was not easy to believe he had lured a bunch of cops into a trap and killed four of them. Myles remembered something Sir Walter had once said - when good people go bad, they go really bad. Myles assumed he meant that people who abandoned decency and morality, they could become quite wicked. He suspected, though, that the same principle applied to people who had suffered too much injustice. That seemed to be the case with Jeffery Mannis. Sir Walter finished his work and put the computer away, then looked over at Myles. Had Myles seen his expression, he would have thought it that of a father looking at a son in early adulthood, wondering and perhaps worrying about whether he had done an adequate job of preparing him for life. He watched for a moment longer before speaking. "It seems there may finally be some sort of official reaction to our exploits," he said. Myles turned, waited. "Put on your headphones," said Sir Walter. He reached forward to activate the screen on the back of the seat in front of him, then took the pair of headphones hanging beside it and put them on. His own headphones on, Myles watched the screen in front of him as Sir Walter turned on the tablet he had been using earlier. A video program began to run on the screens, looking like a television program, or possibly a webcast. It was the American News Corporation, one of the major broadcasters since back in the days when news was limited to newspapers and radio. Myles adjusted the volume, watching the young blonde woman begin reading the news segment. Attractive young women, usually blonde (naturally or not) had been the ubiquitous face of television news for as long as Myles could remember. They would read news about politics, medicine, industry of all sorts, crime, and whatever else would attract an audience. All the while looking as if they actually understood what they were reading. And being paid millions of dollars to do it. Myles often wondered if there was any hope for humanity, or those who constantly worked to save it from destruction were wasting their time or worse, acting against nature. He turned his attention to the news reader, who had finished the segment about the riots in New York city, which had been sealed off from the outside world for over a week. Something about suspected terrorists with biological weapons, he remembered. "Federal investigators have persons of interest in the triple assassinations of Wednesday" she announced. Her image was replaced by footage of what appeared to be a sparsely populated rural area, wooded with unpaved roads and a scattered houses. Her voice continued. "In this compound in northeast Arizona, authorities believe they may have found a clue to the brutal murders of three government officials Wednesday. The killing of National Assembly leader Norah Parkhurst, Secretary of Justice Harold Douglas, and judge Louis Cavanaugh of the Third Circuit Court of Appeals were all killed within the space of about four hours, in widely separated parts of the country, by different methods. We go to Richard Gregory in Penn Creek, Arizona. Richard?" A young man, as generic in appearance as the woman in the studio. Probably with a crew from a local affiliate station. They wouldn't send a crew out until the action began. "Thanks, Natalie" said the reporter. So that was her name, thought Myles. It was probably on the screen when she appeared, but he hadn't paid any attention. It was likely as contrived as her hair and wardrobe. He knew from researching the new business that many on-air personalities adopted new names, just as many entertainers did. "I'm here in Penn Creek, Arizona" said the reporter. "The compound you see behind me is occupied by a religious cult known to have strong anti-government attitudes. In the past, perpetrators of crimes such as arson and assault, usually against government facilities or personnel, have been traced to this organization." Myles was still looking for the compound. There appeared to be a chain-link fence around it, at least the part being shown, and inside were a few houses and other buildings, some cars, and not much else. But with these people, Myles thought, sensationalism is always essential. Anything with a fence around it is a compound, a group of people who deviate from the mainstream of society is a cult. And of course, fed the seeds of the propaganda for the occasion, they couldn't care less about facts. To most of the workers only their careers mattered, a few were ideologues who were eager to push any story that advanced their cause. The young blonde woman was back, now on one side of a split screen. "Do you know how investigators came to suspect a connection with this cult?" she asked. "We're not certain at this point, Natalie" said the young man. "We do know at any time government investigators are looking at organizations like this, and may have informants inside or close to their members. And of course, if they were under surveillance, they may have obtained information that way. "Of course, at this point, the only thing we know is that one or more people are being investigated for possible connection to the crimes. Until more information is available, all we know is that they are looking at a possible connection here." "Thanks, Richard," said Natalie, just before again occupying the entire screen. Then looking back at the camera with her best professional news anchor gaze "We'll have more information for you as it becomes available." "That was from last night on ANC" said Sir Walter. "Nice neat three minute segment, then on to the next vapid bit about a murdered mother of two in Indiana, or maybe sports and weather" said Myles. He couldn't watch the news without being being reminded of what one of his father's friends had once told him. The man lived in Florida and enjoyed fishing, and knew a lot about fish. "If you ever look at a shark brain, Myles, it doesn't seem like a brain at all. Just the nerves coming out of the spine knotted together. A stimulus-response mechanism. When a lot of sharks get together with something edible, especially bleeding and thrashing, it gets overloaded, and you have a feeding frenzy. Them swim around biting anything that gets close to their mouth, including other sharks, and eat anything that they can reach, including parts of themselves that have just been ripped off by other sharks." Newspeople reminded him of sharks. A little blood in the water, an injured creature, and they go insane. Innocent people end up in financially ruined, in prison, or dead -- because of a mindless feeding frenzy. Except sharks aren't intelligent. People are supposed to be. "Equal parts laziness, incompetence and greed" said Sir Walter. "But what else is new? That was from last night, and thus far there isn't much else. The government will feed bits to the news media, until they build up a public perception that these people are guilty, before the big raid." "You think this is it?" asked Myles. "Almost certainly. Normally they would try to find out who did it, but in this case they just want to hang it on someone, close the books. I suspect we rattled their cage rather well this time. A bloody operation here will probably settle down any small groups like this for a while, and of course the public perception of the guilty being brought to justice will make them look good to the sheep. "Of course, they probably know it wasn't these people, obviously they have no reason to suspect them. So they buy some time this way, but will absolutely continue looking. And I'm sure we're on the radar." "These people will pay for what we did?" asked Myles. "Not at all," replied Sir Walter. "This is one operation that isn't going down they way they expect." "Meaning we'll intervene?" asked Myles. "As I said earlier, we've crossed the river. We prevail or perish. And millions will perish with us if we fail. I believe that if America falls, there will be, perhaps, centuries of darkness for the entire world." "We all knew that when we signed on" said Myles. "And you're right. Whatever happens, I wouldn't do anything different." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Before long they were approaching the object of their journey, the Redstone Freehold. Like Mike Charlie, it was a large and well-financed operation if not as old as Mike Charlie. It was led by one of Sir Walter's peers, Sir Andrew. Sir Andrew was about the same age as Sir Walter, all of them being older men. He and Sir Walter had formed the Knights and recruited several trusted friends to complete the group. Not only did they have to be trusted, but considerable wealth and, ideally, the ability to recruit other men of substance and character was needed as well. Thus it was a small group. Located in Kansas, Redstone was just over two hundred miles away, so the drive had taken a while. Sarah and Tanya had been left in the care of the Mike Charlie people, their homes being looked after by field agents. Myles' own home was, he hoped, safe from unwelcome attention for the time. Frank and his men would keep it secure, and if the worst happened and it was raided, anything important to Myles was hidden where it was unlikely to ever be found even by determined searchers - everything else was replaceable. Myles and Sir Walter were at Redstone for a council of war with Sir Andrew and his key people. They would take the lead in the upcoming action, whatever it turned out to be. Although Redstone had not supplied any of the personnel in the assassinations, they had been involved in the decision to execute the operation and in the planning . Thus they would be expecting the reprisal operation, and by now had probably arrived at the same suspicions as Sir Walter. Their vehicle was closing on one of their pickets, a nondescript white Chevy Viara. There were literally millions of the small four-door hatchback on the roads, and on even a short trip one was likely to encounter a number of them in. There would be a similar car ahead of this one - two white Viaras and a pair of Dodge Rams. The trucks were likewise inconspicuous as there were so many of them, particularly in rural areas. Naturally, these were modified for special duty, making the convoy a formidable adversary should it become a target . The other lead vehicle came into view as they rolled along a rural two-lane road. Both of the white cars were now together, with no traffic separating them. Myles knew the two trucks would be close behind. The entrance to Redstone was not far away. After passing a few more miles of young corn, the convoy left the main highway, turning onto a somewhat narrower road - paved but with no lane markers. At the intersection large signs on each side on the road announced: Private Road Do Not Enter Without Permission They were now on Redstone property , headed for what Myles knew was one of several inconspicuous gates. In fact, there was not a large main gate, a common practice among Freeholds. They avoided calling attention to themselves. And while no guards were visible, they were nevertheless nearby and watching. They would be watching the headlights of the car Myles was in, and the driver would flash the headlights several times in a pre-arranged code. The grassy fields soon gave way to a populated area, looking like one of the many small towns scattered about the area. Kansas wasn't that much different from South Kansas, mostly differing in being mostly flat and with few forests, while South Kansas had a few ranges of low hills, with many lakes and forests. Kansas was even more sparsely populated than its neighbor to the south, in people anyway. What it lacked in human population was more than compensated in cattle. In the center of what had once been the largest ranch in Kansas, Sir Andrew had built the headquarters of the Redstone Freehold. Twelve sections of prairie - three by four miles - had been built by Sir Andrew's grandfather into an enormous cattle operation, which Sir Andrew's father continued operating until his death. By the time he inherited the ranch, Sir Andrew had realized that before continuing in the traditions of his ancestors he would have to save the country. So the ranch became another link in the chain of the resistance. After meeting Sir Walter while fundraising for the man who would be the last Federalist candidate for president, the two discussed the bleak future of their country. With the republic dying before their eyes, they decided to do what no one else seemed willing to do. Recruiting some trusted friends of their own generation, eventually numbering nine in all, they began to lay plans for a creating a counterbalance to a government that was well on its way to being hopelessly out of control. While Sir Walter began building what would become Mike Charlie, Sir Andrew began turning the massive ranch into Redstone. There was still a sizeable cattle operation on the ranch , providing camouflage for its real purpose. Redstone now had over four hundred members, all but a handful living on the site and engaged in preparation. A few financiers were generally absent, either living elsewhere in the area or travelling on various missions. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sir Andrew met them at the gate of his residence. He was a fairly large man. Myles generally guessed his height at an inch or so over six feet. He was stoutly built with wide shoulders and powerful arms with big hands, but walked lightly and gracefully. He wore two shoulder holsters with double-action revolvers in them. Myles knew they were chambered for .45 Long Colt, with seven inch barrels. He had seen Sir Andrew use them often, and occasionally fired them himself. He was also partial to the heavy, large caliber guns, and owned a similar pair. He knew Sir Andrew had, like Sir Walter, done multiple tours of duty in the Indochina wars, and had a considerable collection of medals, including a Hayes medal with six stars. Sir Andrew had five stars on his Hayes medal, each one signifying a wound received in combat. Neither man talked much about their wartime experience. Myles knew from studying history that it had been an exceedingly dirty war, and never asked about it. Sir Andrew was accompanied by a young man about the same age as Myles. Justin Bradley, Myles knew, had a relationship with Sir Andrew not unlike the one he had with Sir Walter. Neither of the older men had any children, and had become a sort of father to the younger one. Myles knew that Justin's parents were still living, but his relationship with them was not good. So in a sense he was, like Myles, without a family. After an exchange of greetings Sir Walter and Myles followed them inside while the drivers parked the vehicles. The members of the various freeholds enjoyed the opportunity to socialize with their comrades, and they would have several hours to do so while the council was in progress. "It's almost time for lunch," said Sir Andrew, "so there's no point in starting anything now. Are you up for a drink and a smoke?" Sir Andrew was a fairly enthusiastic drinker, and had a small winery on the premises. He also had a small distillery and produced small quantities of excellent whiskey, as well as brandy. Myles was partial to brandy in general, and that produced at Redstone in particular. They retired to a small courtyard to enjoy their drinks and cigars, and stood around talking until summoned to lunch. It was just the four of them, a relatively simple but enjoyable meal. Myles knew that most, indeed probably all, of the components were produced on the ranch. Eventually, though, it was over and time for serious matters. Sir Andrew led them to a small conference room attached to his offices, and they took seats around a small table. "It seems," said Sir Andrew "there is some urgency here. You've seen the early signals. We don't get much from the inside, but we have enough to make it fairly certain they are going after the group at Penn Creek. That tells us a few things. "One is that they almost certainly have no idea who the perpetrators are. And the fact that they will conduct an operation against completely innocent people suggests that they are well beyond hope of reform, even if there existed some way to accomplish it. But it also suggests that they are insecure. "They certainly know a good bit about us, but not nearly enough to feel safe moving against us at this point. How they eventually plan to deal with us I have no idea , but suspect they may want to wait until they are sufficiently entrenched, with no other opposition. So even if they suspect us, they don't know where to attack." "We can probably prolong that insecurity for quite a while" said Sir Walter. The others waited, and after a moment Sir Walter continued. "We must be prepared to intervene at Penn Creek," he said. "In part because they are being targeted because of our operation. We can't let that happen. From what we know, and no doubt the government knows, they are nothing more than a peaceful religious commune. They will be targeted because they dared turn their backs on the managed society the government wants, and because of their antipathy towards religion in any form. And, of course, they are rather powerless and will have no sympathy from the public once the government begins the usual propaganda campaign. Or in this case, has already begun. "And, apparently, they are in something of a panic. They want to shut down any potential insurrection before it gets started. Of course, they have no idea of what they are up against. Still, we can't let innocent people suffer if we can prevent it." "Do you have any ideas on how to do that?" asked Sir Andrew. "Certainly" said Sir Walter with a faint smile. "The organization at Penn Creek is small, probably less that two hundred people, quite a few of them children. Another reason, by the way, to prevent the operation from being carried out. They have shown in the past they have no reluctance to kill innocent people of any age, and already have the blood of many children on their hands. "Given the small size and relative lack of any defenses, they will likely show up with just a couple of Rhinos and maybe two or three M200s or such." The Rhino was a large armored patrol vehicle which could carry eight to ten personnel and usually had a heavy machine gun on top. The M200 was a line of heavy trucks which could carry up to thirty personnel with small arms. Even that, Myles thought, was overkill for the little village. "I would guess," Sir Walter continued, "They will have a few dozen heavily armed agents swarm over the place and restrain all the occupants, cuff a few of them and haul them away. However, this is a rather extraordinary situation, and depending on who is in charge, they may want some gratuitous killing for the cameras. And for revenge. "It isn't bad enough that people in the highest offices are venal and wicked, many of they are downright stupid. My grandfather used to tell me that incompetence was the worst sort of corruption. I don't know if he was right, but it certainly is one of the most destructive. So if the wrong types of people are involved, it could get really ugly." "Do you believe we can handle it?" asked Sir Andrew. "Or should we call on some of the other Freeholds? We can certainly put upwards of four hundred men on the ground, with sufficient snipers and anti-armor, for whatever they are likely to bring. But if time permits, involving some of our brothers could be beneficial. We are, after all, likely to be at war in a serious way before long." "If time permits," said Sir Walter "I'm in favor of it. My guess is not more than a week. We need to scout the area for asset positioning. And decide whether or not to make contact with the target. I'm thinking not." "I'm inclined to agree" said Sir Andrew. "It can't help, and having the element of surprise is of more value." "Indeed," said Sir Walter. "Suppose we limit it to two or three platoons from some of our most capable brothers, in terms of preparedness. You're probably best for contacting the others. If that's agreeable Myles and I can take some of our men for the recon." "Eminently," said Sir Andrew. He was a bit more professorial at times than Sir Walter, and his origins even more mysterious to Myles. He suspected they were about the same age, but knew little about Sir Walter's history, and practically nothing about Sir Andrew. "I believe you wanted to discuss another matter." he continued. "Yes." said Sir Walter. "Do you have any idea about the late-night arrest squads that have been operating lately? They make people disappear around midnight or early in the morning, no organizational identification. Not that it matters to these people. We have developed an interest in knowing what they do with their prisoners." "We probably don't know any more that you do." replied Sir Andrew. "We first became aware of them, probably a year, maybe a year and a half ago. None of our assets inside the government know anything, other than that they exist. Any particular reason you're interested?" "Myles has a friend who recently sought refuge with him after her brother became one of their victims." replied Sir Walter. "Due to political activism, it seems. We learned that his brother is a member of November Three out in Oklahoma. It's quite likely they have a black site, possibly more than one, where they take their prisoners for interrogation or whatever they do to them. "I have an idea that if we could capture one of these teams, we would have a chance of learning more about what they are up to." "A sound plan, it would seem," said Sir Andrew, "if only we know when and where they would strike. That's the big problem, as we don't have any information from our inside agents" Myles knew some of the major freeholds, including his own and and Redstone, had members who held jobs in various government and business, and acted as both spies and facilitators for the needs of the freeholds. In some cases it was as simple as having an employee working at a bank or local law enforcement agency, others worked at higher levels of state governments and the federal government. There were not a lot of them, and they had to be used with extreme care, particularly when passing information. Evidently none of them were in a position to know about the arrests. It was not surprising, as the operation was likely under rigorous secrecy. "We might take a cue from Jeffrey," said Myles. "If we set up a prospective victim to draw them in, we could keep the target under surveillance until they move in. Since we know something about how they make the arrests, and they seem to follow a pattern, we would have a chance at grabbing some or perhaps all of them" "Jeffrey is a young man recently taken in by the Whiskey Sierra group" said Sir Walter, in response to Sir Andrew's questioning look. "I hadn't got around to telling you about him. His brother was murdered by local police. Failing to acquire a just resolution, he took matters into his own hands. Set himself up as a target, lured the police into a trap, killed four of them. Of course, he had to flee, and had a friend in Whiskey Sierra Two. They put us in contact with him. A resourceful and rather audacious young man. And believe me, I've seen some audacity in my time." "You're thinking of setting a trap?" asked Sir Andrew. "Have someone make a lot of noise to attract their attention, then when they get ready to grab him, we're waiting. Interrogate the abductors, see where it leads." "Possibly," replied Sir Walter. "But that could take a while. Still, it might be worthwhile. But, we might be able to monitor some of the the likely next targets, and watch some of them. If this is important enough to get the support we would need, we could try both approaches. "I'll take it up with some of our colleagues as I arrange for the defense of our hapless friends at Penn Creek." said Sir Walter. "We should be able to come up with something" "Well, that seems to cover most of our business," said Sir Andrew. "Suppose we have another smoke break before dinner? I suspect you'll want to make an early start for home tomorrow. We have much to do."