Chapter 6

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Myles and Sir Walter were back at Mike Charlie before noon the next day, but he
had time for no more than a quick greeting for Sarah and Tanya, telling them he
would be in meetings for a while.  Quite a while, it turned out.   

The  next  two  days  were  occupied  with making contact with the freeholds in
Arizona.  There  were  only  a  handful  of large ones, and only two that could
provide  more  than  fifty  men. Sir Walter worked on conference calls with Sir
Andrew to pitch the operation and set the plans.   Before the night was over he
had  established  that  each of them could have personnel ready immediately. At
approximately fifty men each,  added to a hundred or so from Mike Charlie, they
could  have  an  overwhelming  force  in  place,  and could handle the expected
government force without ever showing their true numbers.  

Using  their  black phones Myles, Sir Walter and the two freehold leaders had a
plan  in  place  by  late the next day, and transport was being arranged.  They
would  leave  the  following night, which gave Myles enough time for some sleep
and travel preparations.  He left his office and headed up to his quarters.

After a cool shower he was able to remain awake long enough to brush his  teeth
and put on one of the long-sleeved pullover shirts he normally wore to bed.  He
had  been  found the unusual shirts some years ago and bought a large number of
them.  Reaching to mid-thigh, they were soft and supple, allowing comfort while
fitting  rather  snugly.   He liked sleeping in a cool room with minimal cover,
usually a light quilt or cotton blanket.   

That  wouldn't  be  the case tonight, he realized as he exited the bathroom and
entered  his  bedroom.  Sarah  was  partial  to  warmth, and she and Tanya were
waiting for him, in their pajamas. 

"I hope you don't mind," said Sarah.  "We've missed you.  And you look like you
could use some company tonight."   

She said 'we', he thought.  This is getting a little strange.  

"I have to leave tomorrow, possibly for a while" he said.  

"I suspected as much," Sarah replied.  She paused.   Myles knew she was seeking
some comfort in a world that had suddenly become more complicated that anything
she was prepared to deal with. 

"It's all right" he said.  "I really need some sleep, though." 

"I understand,"  said  Sarah.  "It's just, being alone here...  we really won't
disturb you."  

"Not a problem" said Myles.  How can I turn  off  the  lights  with  these  two
beautiful women here, he thought.  But it had to be done.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He awoke early, as the moonlight began to  fill  the  room.  At  this  time  of
the month both moons were crossing the continent together,  and at  their  peak
their light would be almost like daylight. 

Myles  looked  over  at the sleeping women, one on each side.  Sarah's head was
on his chest,  her long blonde mane soft against his cheek.   On the other side
Tanya's silky black hair was spilled across the pillow, as  she  held  his  arm
with one hand, the other lying across his chest.   

While  wondering  how  he  could  extricate  himself without waking them, Sarah
opened her eyes and looked up at him.  "Is it time already?" she asked.

"Afraid  so,"  Myles  replied.   Sarah  moved to allow him to disengage Tanya's
embrace, and the two slid off the bed and stood up.

"I'll be gone for a few days at least," Myles told her.  "The situation we have
is  open-ended,  there's  no way to predict a timetable.  But I'm guessing at a
week or two."  

"This is getting dangerous, isn't it" Sarah asked. 

"It always has been," said Myles.  "Unfortunately we are in  a  situation  that
will likely get a lot worse before it improves, if it ever does.   We  want  to
prevent as many bad things as we can.  I can't even speculate on  the  eventual
outcome.  We just have to do the best we can and hope it works out."   

Sarah put her arms around him,  laying her head on his shoulder as she held him
tightly.   Myles waited until she felt like letting go.   Finally she did,  and
looked  up  at  him,  her clear blue eyes as calm as ever, but the worry behind
them was clear.  "Please come back to me" she said.  "I love you." 

Myles  kissed  her  and turned to go.  He had never heard her say that, and had
never  said  it  to  her.   He didn't understand their relationship, and didn't
try.   But  it  was  changing , along with many other things.  She had followed
him  to  the  door,  and he paused.  "Frank and the guys will take care of you"
he  said.   "They  will  guard  their  lives  with  their  own.   It's unlikely
anything  will  happen  here,  but if it does, pay attention to them and you'll
be all right.  I'll be back as soon as I possibly can."

Myles  left  the  bedroom ,  and  Sarah went back to the bed and sat down.  She
looked down at Tanya,  who had not awakened.   Going back to sleep seemed to be
a good idea, she thought.   She might dream, but not think about the real world
for a while.   

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Myles  went  down  to an apartment on the ground floor.  It was a private place
no one else ever visited.   Bags were always packed for an extended trip -- all
he  had  to  do  was get ready to travel.  After the morning shave, shower, and
other  preparations for the day he took his bags out to the back entrance where
his transport would arrive.

The usual neutral-colored vehicle arrived, this time  a  relatively  late-model
Blazer.  More robust than the minivans they often used but still inconspicuous.
As  usual  the  driver  and shotgun rider were up front, with Sir Walter in the
back.  Frank and a couple of his men had come around to help with his bags, and
quickly and got them stowed in the back.   

In an unusual display of intimacy,   Myles placed his hand on Frank's shoulder.

"Take care of the ladies for me" he said.  

"You got it, brother" replied Frank.  "You be safe, now."  

"Will do." replied Myles.  "See you soon."  He got  in, and  Frank  closed  the
door.  He stood watching long after the  vehicle  had  disappeared  around  the
first turn in the road.

Sir Walter didn't speak for a while.   Eventually,  as they exited the two-lane
highway  that  ran  by  the  freehold and entered a lightly travelled four-lane
road, he turned to Myles.  

"How do you feel?" he asked.   

"Kind of like Columbus once land was out of sight, I suppose." 

"We're definitely in uncharted waters." said Sir Walter.  "As I said a few days
ago,  our horses are knee-deep in the Rubicon now.   This incident may not lead
to open war,  but I don't believe the government will take this defeat lightly.
Dictators,  which is what those in power aspire to be,  don't tolerate even the
smallest challenge to their authority."

"Meaning they'll attack us, possibly at Mike Charlie?" asked Myles.

"Very likely,"  replied Sir Walter.   "We're among the oldest of the freeholds,
a  charter  member.  They certainly know a bit about us,  and we will be one of
the  prime  suspects.   Besides,  as  is  the case here, they will want someone
prominent to make an example of."  

"I wonder about Penn Creek" said Myles.  "It certainly looks like their target,
given the continuing news coverage.  But it's rather small and obscure."   

"It won't be obscure for long" said Sir Walter.  "But it is an easy target.  No
resistance is likely, and demonizing them for a while in the national news will
make them less obscure.  Few people knew about the Solomon's Creed group before
they were attacked,  or the New Covenant group in Arizona.   Most of them don't
do anything to draw attention to themselves,  so they are only noticed by their
neighbors.  But  any  unusual  behavior  will  get  you  into  the government's
databases, if only for future investigation, or for use as a scapegoat.

"They  likely  have  a  file  on  the  Penn Creek people, like many others, and
selected them as being suitable for the occasion.   Probably the small size and
absence  of  any  militant inclination.  They are likely quite defenseless.  Of
course,  if there is any violence,  you can be sure they will find some weapons
and other incriminating materials afterward."  

They  proceeded  directly  to  the  rural airfield Myles had used before.  They
would  be  operating in the open over a considerable period of time, so vehicle
switches and disguises were hardly practical.    Of course, Myles thought, they
weren't  planning  to  assassinate one of the nation's most prominent political
figures.   The exposure this time would be considerable, and without doubt some
of them would be identified.   

At the airfield the driver took the vehicle into one of the hangars.   Time was
important now, and they needed to be on the ground Arizona as soon as possible.
Accordingly,  their  transportation  would have to be faster than the old Piper
Myles  had  used  a few days earlier.  A small jet was waiting with its nose at
the  closed  hangar  doors.  Just  large  enough for four passengers to ride in
relative comfort, the aircraft didn't even have a name.   It was one of several
examples  made  by  a  freehold  with  an enclave on east Asia.  The small
country  of  Tandong was ruled by a dictator who was smart enough to keep a low
profile,  by  treating his people as well as he could while ruthlessly crushing
any  outright  rebellion  and  being friendly with neighboring nations.  He was
attempting  to  build  a  strong military force with the intention of expanding
his empire, and eagerly engaged the Americans offering to help him with weapons
development  in  return  for  an  autonomous territory in which they could work
in private.  They had to deliver some finished product occasionally, and he had
been pleased with the samples they had provided so far, of which the small jets
were a part.   

The little aircraft had the speed to get them to Arizona quickly, and the range
to avoid refueling stops.   Myles and Sir Walter stowed their bags and boarded,
and the pilots closed the doors and assumed their seats.  The hangar doors were
opened,  and  a  small  tractor  was brought over to tow the aircraft out.  The
pilots  worked  through  the checklist, and before long the engines started.  A
few  minutes  later  they were turning off the taxiway onto the runway, and the
pilot ran the engines up to takeoff power, and they were on their way. 

The flight was just over two hours, and Sir Walter  used  the  time  to  update
Myles on his own work.  About a hundred men  were  coming  from  Mike  Charlie,
dispersed among a variety of transports.   Most of they would be small aircraft
with four or five men, and upon arrival they would rent rooms in  small  motels
in the area.  The local freeholds, each sending fifty men, would  also  provide
sufficient transportation for all.  Both were within an  hour's  drive  of  the
target area,  and quite a few of their people were familiar with the area.   In
the final stage of the operation, their forces would be stationed in the  large
forests around the Penn Creek commune.  The  commune  itself  was  about  forty
acres carved out of thousands of acres  of  scrubby  forest  that  wasn't  even
worth hunting in, but would provide adequate cover for their men.  

"They will give themselves away when they  tip  the  news  organizations."  Sir
Walter told him.  "We've seen it often enough.  When they make  a  high-profile
arrest they want a lot of coverage.   We'll see the satellite uplink trucks and
other  vehicles,  with  prominent  company  logos, naturally, converging on the
area  shortly  before  it begins.  But some of them will be coming out of large
cities,  some  several  hours  away.  Even Phoenix is about two hours away - we
could  watch  for the  departure of the crews from there and know when to move.
But  the buildup will be longer than that - probably a good twenty-four hours."
He grinned,  something Myles rarely saw him do when discussing serious matters.
"They  will  probably  have  personnel  staying  at some of the same motels our
people are using." 

"So," asked Myles, "do you have any idea how it goes  down  when  they  arrive?
Setting  up  a  cordon  and  ordering them to come out, or crashing through the
gates with armored vehicles with no warning?"  

"Sadly, I suspect the latter" said Sir Walter.  "That makes our work harder. If
they just stood outside and ordered them to come out,  or even if they sent men
in to get them, we could probably intimidate them  with  superior  numbers  and
firepower,  read  them  the  riot  act  and  give  them  a chance to gracefully
withdraw." 

"By  reading  the  riot  act,  you  mean letting them know we know who actually
carried out the assassinations?" inquired Myles.  "Saving the hapless people in
the commune but pointing a big red arrow at us?"   

"Pretty much," said Sir Walter.   "Of course, it has to happen sooner or later.
Which  is  why  they'll  come  after  us.   Even  more  angry  because  of  the
embarrassment we caused them.   But since they don't yet dare mount the kind of
operation, or incur the casualties, it would take to crush Mike Charlie, we can
handle them.  We may be able to negotiate a brief cease fire - they'll agree in
order to get time to plan,  and we go on full alert.     Hopefully it will stay
quiet for a while,   and depending on what we hear from Atlantis,   it might be
long enough."  

Myles looked out at the clouds beneath them.    Everything seemed far away just
now - he wondered what Sir Walter thought about in his private moments.  He was
not a young man, and had more than once told Myles he might not live to see the
results of his work.  That takes a special kind of man, he thought.  I may live
through this,  whether or not I like what happens - but to know you are working
for something that will never benefit you, and do it anyway, is allegiance to a
much higher purpose.   

He closed his eyes, not intending to sleep, but apparently did.  He opened them
to see a message on the screen on the bulkhead in front of them.    "Landing in
about  15  minutes,"  it  announced.   Neither he nor Sir Walter had unfastened
their seatbelts, so they sat quietly and awaited the end of the flight.

As advertised, the pilots set the down on the runway at a small private airport
outside  Williamsburg.   A  small town of about six thousand, the town wouldn't
have  had  much  of  an  airport,  if  it had one at all.  However, a number of
wealthy  residents of the surrounding countryside had built the private airport
to  facilitate  their  excursions into the wider world, while maintaining their
privacy in the remote and sparsely populated area of northern Arizona.   A  few
of  them  were  in  the  camp  of  the freeholders, and provided money and some
leadership to the two that Myles and Sir Walter would be dealing with. 

So  it  was  that  the little aircraft rolled down a smooth 8,000 foot concrete
runway  and  taxied  into  a  corner of the airport with an unmarked hangar.  A
couple  of  men opened the gates controlling access to the hangar area and they
soon  rolled  to  a  stop  just  inside.   The pilots shut down the engines and
As Sir Walter and Myles disembarked and retrieved their  luggage,  one  of  the
smaller  doors  in  the  hangar opened and three cars emerged.  The freeholders
did  nothing  by  half  measures,  and  with  two  of  the  three cars carrying
security personnel,  they were relatively certain of a safe trip to their final
destination.  The  driver  and  and  front  seat  passenger  of one of the cars
emerged and opened the trunk for their luggage, and they were soon settled into
the back seat and the small motorcade got underway.

The  trip  to their first stop, freehold Alpha Romeo One.   Alpha Romeo One was
one of the older freeholds, and had built a large membership.  And  as  Arizona
was  not  densely  populated  except  in  the state capitol and several smaller
cities, millions of acres of land was available at low prices, it also had vast
amounts  of  real  estate.   The  main  site  war over 6,000 acres, and several
smaller  sites  around  the  area  provided  inconspicuous  cover  for  various
operations.

The leader was an old friend of Sir Walter, Myles knew.    An army comrade from
the Indochina wars, he had been recruited early  on  and  had  started  up  the
freehold  he  now  led.   He  was  a  tall, stout man who reminded Myles of his
grandfather.   Six three or so,  and built like one of the big old oak trees on
his estate.  Powerful yet graceful in his movements, he strode out to meet them
as their car stopped in front of his house.

"Walter, good to see you" he said.  "It's been too long."  

"Same here, Matt."  said Sir Walter.  "Sadly, our time is scarce these days and
becoming more so by the day.   

Myles knew that the honorific used by Sir Walter and his colleagues was largely
for external exposure,  to whatever degree it existed.   Within the League most
used it,  but to longtime friends like Matthew Richardson titles were unneeded.

A couple of Matthew's men got their luggage from the car and took it  into  the
house.  Matthew followed, showing them where their rooms were, and they went to
his office.  The  two  young  men  who  had  carried their luggage joined them.
Myles  had  not  looked  closely  at  them before, and he now noticed they were
identical  twins.   They  appeared  to  be  in  their  early twenties.  Matthew
introduced  them  as Jeff and Joey MacDonald, late of the U.S. Army.  Both were
wearing Colt .45 autos  in  hip  holsters,  and  apparently  one  of  them  was
left-handed.  Their  relationship  to Mathew seemed to be the same has his with
Sir Walter, or Justin to Sir Andrew.   

"Have a seat,"  said Matthew.   He went over to small bar and held up a bottle.
"Brandy OK?"   

Sir Walter and Myles both nodded, and he brought over the bottle  and  glasses.
"Heard from Andy just before you arrived."  he said.   "He should be here in an
hour  or  so.   Andy  would  be Sir Andrew, with whom Sir Walter had set up the
operation.  "We have people watching the news outlets in the area, particularly
the  television  stations.   We  do a fair job of collecting chatter in various
ways, so hopefully we can be ahead of them.

"We have our force assembled,  and John over at Sierra Delta is set to go.   We
should get over there tomorrow and visit with him.  Andy should be here in time
for lunch, and afterward you can see some of our young men in action." 

They  would  most likely be watching a field trip in which the boys had weapons
and  tactics  training,  or  something  similar,  Myles  thought.   All  of the
freeholds  educated  their own children, allowing none of them to be exposed to
the  public  schools.   Not  only  were  the results of public school education
substandard in the best cases,  but the social and political indoctrination was
unacceptable  to  the  freeholders.   Besides,  they didn't want their children
exposed  to  the outside world before they were able to understand the need for
secrecy.  Fortunately  the government had not yet regulated private schools out
of  existence,  the  freeholds  simply  had  their  own schools. And education,
particularly for boys, included military training. 

They  chatted  about  a variety of other matters until Sir Andrew's arrival was
announced.    Like Sir Walter,  he had traveled only with his protege,  Justin.
They declined a drink in the meeting room in favor of a quick one in the dining
room before lunch,  and the group adjourned to that location.   Being a working
lunch, a group computer displays streamed live television broadcast and updated
views  of  various  news  sites.   As  they  smoked cigars and drank brandy and
whiskey while watching, Sir Walter increased the volume on one of  the  screens
showing  a  national  news  broadcast.    The ubiquitous young blonde woman was
talking  as  she  stood  in  front  of  a  screen showing the now-familiar Penn
Creek site.

"Federal  Authorities  now believe this radical religious cult is linked to the
assassinations  of  three  prominent government officials." she said.  "Sources
close  to the Justice Department indicate that a widespread conspiracy may have
its roots  here  in  the  Penn  Creek  area.   For  more on this story we go to
Bob Schaeffer in Washington."  

Bob Schaeffer was an older man who looked as if his  career  path  hadn't  gone
well and was trying to make to retirement.  According  to  his  script  federal
investigators had followed the clues to a small cult in Arizona, long suspected
of harboring anti-government radicals.  His image was briefly  faded  to  stock
footage of the Penn Creek commune, followed by pictures of a couple of recently
deceased or imprisoned enemies of the state who,  according to the script,  had
been connected with Penn Creek, before returning to him for the sign-off.  

"If only people knew the depths to which the state has sunk," mused Sir Andrew.
"Here we are, the guilty parties, so to speak, watching as they accuse innocent
people and demonize them publicly, in preparation for attacking them.  

"Forgive the rhetoric," he added.  "But it's all the more  imperative  that  we
prevent them from being harmed."   

"Indeed"  said  Sir  Walter.   "I suspect it won't be so difficult,  this time.
They won't be expecting interference.  After that, who knows." 

"Well,  gentlemen"  said  Matt.   "The junior high field trip should be getting
underway about now.  Shall we go out and watch?"