Chapter 9 MTKESGPETIHINIADLSRTJHKKXNPZNNTOTIVCHBWPHCMVYYRZFEMJDURECHX As he approached the top of the ridge, Alex crouched to remain concealed, and finally assumed a prone position, crawling the last few yards, to push the camera over the top, then slid back down slightly to watch the display on the small screens inside his goggles. He could pan, tilt and zoom the small camera to view any part of the landscape across the ridge. For now, he settled for a wide view of the road running along the plain below, while he watched the message screen on the small computer tablet beside him. The microphone on his headset would convert his speech to text, which could be sent as an encrypted message on the temporary network centered on a truck parked at a small town a couple of miles away. Using the public network was both risky and difficult, as government surveillance was nearly universal and network disruptions were frequent. The two were not unrelated. The unpredictable disruptions were mostly a cover for deliberate breaks intended to prevent some communications, and the surveillance was designed to harvest every available bit of information. His own communications were secure, Alex knew, the short messages they used in such situations used an absolutely unbreakable code. It was not easy to use, but for absolute secrecy it was necessary. If the transmissions from the truck to an aircraft flying in circles overhead, or to Alex on top of the ridge could be intercepted, they would be meaningless strings of text. He watched the traffic and occasionally tapped a button on the screen. Unnecessary messages were discouraged - tapping the button simply indicated that he was alive and awake and had nothing to report. It had been nearly a year since he had visited Freehold Mike Charlie with Myles Fletcher and Gordon Williams. Myles was back at Mike Charlie now, monitoring his mission. Tyler Webster was out here with him, in the truck down the road. The sudden paroxysm of chaotic violence they had expected seemed to have reached a critical mass a few months later, and the country was on fire, almost literally, as cities were burning across the country on a daily basis. Handmade incendiary devices, as well as more deadly anti-personnel weapons, were being used to attack government facilities and personnel. Death counts were a part of the daily news, and were beginning to be regarded by many on both sides as the new order of things. The government response, particularly at the federal level, was to crush the rebellion at any cost, by any means possible. The idea of trying to find the cause and rectify conditions seemed never to occur to anyone, it seemed. At least, Alex thought as he watched the highway, they were rather incompetent. And spread quite thin, he reflected. Rumors of conscription had been circulating for a while, and with what was effectively a one-party government they would get whatever they wanted, no matter how insane if might be. He grinned as he thought of hundreds of thousands of very angry young men who already hated the government being ordered into the army - an army that already had too much trouble with malcontents and marginal performers. I'd pay to see that, he thought. He continued watching the road, tapping the button on the computer screen again. A dull brown and green truck came into view, the dusty-looking splotches of paint suggesting military camouflage. A second followed, and Alex spoke activated his headset. "Military convoy" he said, keeping it short. A different key was used for each message he sent, and running out in the middle of a mission wasn't a good thing. "Two, three. Updates on minute." That meant he would update them on the count at one minute intervals. About ten minutes later the stream of vehicles had stopped. a "Looks like the end," he said after his last update. "Waiting ten." He would wait ten minutes for further activity before leaving his position. He didn't want to stay there longer than necessary - aircraft overhead would be scanning the area alongside roads where military traffic was present. The convoy he had watched, and recorded, being destroyed wasn't the only such incident. In fact, it may well have given ideas to some of the insurrectionists, as several more such attacks had occurred. None were as effective as the one he had participated in, probably due to the lower level of equipment and expertise. He knew that would soon change. "Coming down now" he said. He watched as the acknowledgement appeared on the screen, then began stowing his gear. As he headed back down the ridge he picked up is scout rifle and other weapons, and began a leisurely descent, moving in an irregular path down the slope, staying under the trees as much as possible. The vehicle coming to collect him would be a few minutes away, and for him or the vehicle to be seen waiting along the road for very long would not be a good thing. He saw the trail of dust about a mile away as he approached the road. Perfect, he thought. We'll barely have to stop. The dusty four-wheel-drive truck, dull grey and bearing no distinguishing marks, rolled to a stop as Alex stepped out of a small stand of sumac trees just off the road. Alex opened the back door on the passenger side and shoved his gear inside, and quickly entered by the front door, and they were moving again. The driver looked over at him with a slight smile. "Good one?" he asked. "Depends on who you are" said Alex. "We got a good video of the entire convoy, with a preliminary count. As soon as we analyze the video we'll have a better idea of what we're looking at." "Won't take long" said the driver. "We're only about twenty minutes away from home." Home would be the safe house they were using. Alex didn't know the driver well - he had come out with Tyler several weeks earlier. Dan Simonds was his name, mid-twenties from his appearance. They hadn't talked much - their business left little time for socializing - but he knew Dan was from Mike Charlie and would have been vetted by their security, probably Myles and Sir Walter themselves and thus was as safe as anyone he was likely to be working with. They rolled through a small town, not big enough to have a police force. Of course, the sheriff would have patrols, and running into one of those was not something to be desired. The local sheriffs in much of the country were not yet cooperating with the government as much as the state police and city police departments, but there was constant pressure to bring them in line, and as always, the rule was to avoid law enforcement. Alex could see another truck behind them, and noticed its turn signals being activated several times as it came into sight, even though it was not turning. He saw Dan perform a similar action and knew it was one of their guardians. If they were so unlucky as to be detained by law enforcement of any kind, their guardians would do whatever was necessary to allow them to escape. Should the constabulary prove intractable, the results could be quite unpleasant, and could be fatal. There would be no compromise in the matter of allowing a League member to fall into the hands of the enemy. Of course, this had happened a few times, and even the law enforcement types most willing to cooperate with the government could be less than enthusiastic about dealing with anything outside clearly criminal activities. A sheriff's deputy watching the two trucks pass might be curious, but would not investigate them without orders, and even then only with backup. The dusty road soon intersected a paved highway, which the two trucks, now close together, crossed over and continued on the dirt road. After traversing another couple of miles of young corn and soybeans, another road appeared on their right, a large post on either side. The road was of about the same quality as the one they had left, if somewhat narrower. Ahead Alex could see some trees and buildings. They soon stopped in the middle of a grove of enormous pine trees, with a few specimens of other types of trees scattered about. There were several old houses, apparently in the middle stages of falling apart, and old barn in a similar situation, and a large building which appeared to be built of concrete blocks. The white paint covering it seemed old but was holding up well. A roof of corrugated sheet metal, rusted in places with a few piles of pine needles, seemed to be in good condition. Parking the trucks outside among the trees, they walked over a deep carpet of pine needles to a door in the building. Dan advised Alex that they were waiting for two more arrivals, and then introduced introduced him to the backup crew, a pair of men somewhat older than he usually met in these operations. Both seemed to be in their forties, and were attached to a local organization that numbered around a hundred and twenty men. Both were former military men, and they told him that most of their members were as well. There were a handful of other men, businessmen and professionals of various sorts, some of whom were primarily financiers of the operation. They were wealthy and had connections to others with money, and were of considerable importance to the success of the small militia, whose members referred to it as the Black Hand. One of them explained to Alex that there was no significance to the name - they just chose something that sounded sinister. The two men, Charles Beckett and Howard Walker, were leaders of the Black Hand, and were present to plan an operation. Their security role was one of convenience - since they had to be there, it made sense for them to assist in that role. Their counterparts, whose arrival they were awaiting, were part of an organization called the Musketeers. All of they were experts at long distance rifle shooting, and their performance as snipers was already something of a legend in the shadowy world of the resistance. The huge building was mostly empty - a handful of large wooden crates was stacked near one end, some tables made of planks lying across stacks of concrete blocks that looked as if they may have been used in the construction of the building. And indeed, there was a large stack of them against one wall. At the other end of the building a pair of large travel trailers was parked side by side. Dan led them to one of them and they went inside. As they sat down at a small table, Dan went to a small console and flipped a few switches, and they heard a small engine start up outside. Immediately afterward the lights came on. Alex had already set his camera on the table, and after Dan returned to the table he pulled the memory card and plugged it into a computer on a table by the wall, then turned on the large screen hanging on the wall. "Let's take a look before our associates arrive" he said, as the video began rolling. They watched Alex's recording of the convoy, the Black Hand men making notes as they did. The recording was short, as it had taken the convoy only about ten minutes or so to pass, and they watched it again. "I got eight M115 APCs," said Charles. "Those will have a crew of four, usually with twelve men in the back when at full capacity - that's ninety-six infantry, excluding the crews. Then we have the Rhinos- I make it twenty. At eight men each, again excluding crews, that's another hundred and sixty. We can't see what's in the trucks - there's probably a certain amount of supplies and ordnance, but with fourteen of them, we have to consider there are men in some of them. Normal load is about sixteen, that could give us another hundred or more." The sound of engines outside signaled the arrival of the remaining members of the group. A pair of large motorcycles, Alex guessed. Dan had briefed him on the two groups they would be working with. The Black Hand men he had met - this would be the Omega Shield. He was beginning to guess that most of the organizations simply made up names for identification purposes, useful primarily when working with other groups. It was likely Omega Shield was no different - they were unusual in making extensive use of motorcycles. Indeed, to the unenlightened they would look much like a motorcycle gang, with the members dressing the part when in public. Dan advised him not to be deceived by appearances - they were an extremely well-organized and competent. Like the Black Hand group, most were older men. Some had professional duties that made their participation an occasional affair, while allowing them to maintain useful contacts with the outside world. Some were retired, something Alex had found to be common - and amusing, pensioners being paid by the government they were resisting, albeit with their own money, taken from them in the form of taxes during a lifetime of work. The two men who entered were indeed older men, older than the Black Hand men. Introductions were made, Richard Sullivan and Julian Martin being the names of the new arrivals, and they sat down and reviewed the video again. "There could easily be close to four hundred men in that outfit" said Richard. "That's a big force. Eight APCs with probably fifties on some, eighties on some others from the covers." "That's about what I figure" said Charles. "The trucks are probably carrying mostly personnel, with some ordnance and supplies - they're not on a long-term operation where they'd need food, tents and related gear. And if they did, or if plans changed, it would be brought in - by helicopter if necessary." "So they may be looking at attacking some relatively soft target in terms of fortification, but with a large number of personnel present." said Julian. "Does that help us any in terms of who the intended victims are?" Alex had been briefed by Gordon Williams on the possibility of a military operation against an unknown target in the area, and that was all the information he had. The idea was to find out and attempt to either warn the targets, or interfere in some significant way. Every piece of military hardware damaged or destroyed, every soldier killed, deepened the wounds they were inflicting. Even if they failed, they would know where the convoy was and would attempt an ambush as it returned. They were unlikely to pull off another coup like the one he had witnessed a year or so earlier - that kind of planning and preparation were much more difficult now. The movement of convoys over bridges and other vulnerable locations was now done much more carefully, and helicopter gunships often monitored their progress over long distances. But there was no perfect defense against a guerilla offensive. And, unlike some of the earlier wars in which the alleged guerillas were mostly conscripts, coerced into service by threats against their families, the ones the government was now fighting were dedicated volunteers, from the League down to these small organizations scattered around the back country. Charles looked over at Howard, both of they looking at the screens of their computer pads. After a moment Howard spoke. "I'm inclined to think that Lake View looks good." he said. "It's a small, relatively quiet outfit, a scattered village with about five, six hundred or so people - that includes women and children, so call it two to three hundred combat-capable men. They only recently have been involved in any actual combat, though. About a hundred of them joined us and a local militia at Bentonville about a year ago, it was before we got together with Alex and his people but you might have heard about it. They performed quite well, very low-key but quite competent and seem reliable. What they're better at is hiding people and moving them around without getting caught. They know the wild country around them, and Lake View is a small town." "Why would they be going after them with such a large force?" asked Richard. "Two or three reasons, two of which I alluded to earlier." replied Charles. "By now they could well have made the connection to the Bentonville operation. And they may also know about them hiding fugitives and agents. They do like to make examples, and Lake View looks soft, softer than it is. We probably need to get a warning to them quickly, while we look for other possibilities." "I can have someone over there long before the convoy arrives" said Alex. He activated his dark phone and looked for the contact, then began typing. He wished he had his headset connected, but this was rather urgent. The connection made and authenticated, he gave the information to his agent and disconnected. "Anyone know of any other possibilities?" asked Charles. "I can't think of anything within an day's drive." said Julian. "How far away could the target be, given the location of the nearest base?" "Not far, I would think." said Charles. "That outfit is out of Fort Madison. A two-day drive would take them to within a hundred miles or so of Fort Barrington - they could as easily launch an operation out of there, with less exposure on the roads." "Let's hope we're right" said Richard. "Charles, you said there were two or three reasons they would attack the Lake View group. Is there a third, one you believe applies here?" "This is pretty ugly" said Charles, "and I don't know how much you've heard, if any. They might be going there because they know there are a lot of women and children. There have been some smaller operations like this, in which non-combatants disappeared - not among the dead, and inquiries about them were ignored. "As you must know, the armed forces have deteriorated not only in numbers, equipment, and quality of the force - they have a lot of bad people. You know what the recruitment and retention rates are, we see enough young men who leave when their enlistment is up, and desertion rates continue to increase. What they have left is the worst kind of people. Some of the senior enlisted and many of the offiers are running various rackets for money and other things, and the younger ones are mostly engaging in gratuitious criminal acts, usually while drunk or using other drugs. And there are a good many other problems we probably don't have time for. "But the worst of it is what units like this one do. They raid places like Lake View, alleging that they are engaged in terrorist activities. The population has now become accustomed to it, and is afraid to complain in any case. The people in these places are either killed or taken away, never to be seen again. Given the nature of some of these people, the fate of these women and children is worse than death." "Is this something you're absolutely certain of?" asked Richard. "Sure as can be." said Charles. "We now have accounts of several deserters, eyewitnesses. And their accounts in at least some cases match the facts we have about the raids, times and places." "In that case I'd like to follow them," said Richard "if we had the men and equipment. They wouldn't do it again." "I suspect we're all in agreement on that" said Charles. "Unfortunately we're just a scout operation, and the best we can do is get over there and see what we can do, if we're needed." Alex looked up from his phone. "They're beginning a complete evacuation now" he said. "They should all be clear long before the army arrives. Unfortunately it won't save their homes - they'll almost certainly burn the place when they find it empty. We should be on our way." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Having removed from the trailer any material or equipment that might identify them or reveal the purpose of the small installation, they headed for Lake View. Even with the convoy having a considerable lead, they would at worst not be very far behind when they arrived. Richard and Julian went ahead of them, and the two trucks remained a quarter mile or so apart. "It looks like they're going to Lake View all right" he said after a while. He had been monitoring his phone since they left, and had received a handful of messages. "They're on Highway 364 now, about forty miles or so out of Lake View, and there aren't a lot of other places to go. The settlement is about five or six miles out of the town, between Hopkins Ridge and the Carver Creek." Dan turned the headlights on for a minute or so, long enough for Richard and Julian to see, then turned them off. A few minutes later the stopped and waited on their motorcycles while the trucks caught up. There was little traffic out here, and when Charles and Howard arrived they had a brief meeting, planning their arrival. Their route would eventually intersect Highway 364, and they should be behind the convoy at that point. Proceeding directoy to the settlement would be unwise, so they would go into town, and Richard and Julian would drive by on their motorcycles and assess the situation. Any attempt to stop them would be futile, as they could evade any pursuit. Arriving in Lake View, they parked the trucks at a small service station with a store, restaurant and some other businesses around it. They refueled the trucks and then parked in front of the store and went in to buy some cigars and drinks. They managed to spend a half hour doing so, and had just emerged from the store when Richard and Julian returned. The place was not especially busy, and the locals who occasionally passed by ignored them, so they talked out by their vehicles. "They burned it, all right" said Richard. "They were still there, looked like they drove around and smashed up anything that wasn't burning. I suspect they were rather angry. Have you heard anything more from them?" "They're safely away" said Alex. "Scattered around the open country. Their leaders are working at setting up a meeting. We should have something soon. "They have some observers in fairly close to the place, in the foothills of the ridge. There's no way for the army to go into the hills except on foot, which would be suicidal, so they're safe." "We probably shouldn't stay here too long" said Sid. "This town doesn't seem to be big enough for much of a police force, but you never know what can happen these days." "We can drive in the opposite direction from here" said Alex. "There's not much out there, we can go some distance off the road. I'm going check with Myles and see if he knows of anyone out here who can do a flyover." The convoy headed out on the highway away from Lake View and the burned commune. Along the way Alex made contact with Myles, who said they had an asset nearby who could put up an unmanned aircraft. Small and flying high over the area, it would be able to see what was going on below. By the time they had found a place to stop, Myles advised him the aircraft was on the way. Parked on a trail just over the top of a low hill, they went up the hill to watch for any approaching vehicles while they waited. Before long Myles' report began to come in. "Looks like they pretty well flattened the place, looks entirely burned." Myles transmitted. Alex read the messages aloud as they arrived. "Looks like some of them have been moving around on foot, but they seem to be congregating in the area where the vehicles are parked now." And a few minutes later - "They're forming the vehicles up, apparently preparing to leave." "It was just a day trip" said Charles. "They're not prepared to encamp. They'd have to have supplies sent out, and now that they are exposed that would be risky." "Too bad we don't have a force to take them out on the way back" said Julian. "Indeed" said Alex. "But we may not be completely out of luck. I suspect we can get some sort of reprisal operation approved." Before he could continue, more messages arrived. The army force was leaving, the vehicles moving out onto the highway. The second one was from his contact in the Lake View community. Advising Myles the observation aircraft was no longer needed, he replied to the other message. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Kurt Marshall was an older man, Alex guessed middle fifties, quiet but with a confident manner. Not especially tall, relatively slim, he moved with an easy grace despite using a cane to occasionally steady himself. Several hours after the last of the military vehicles had departed, he had contacted Alex. As the sun set they met at the bottom of a hill not far from the burned settlement. The small group stood around on the hillside, the lights on their vehicles turned off. The nearest populated area was miles away, but there was no point in attracting attention. A quiet electric aircraft could be just a few hundred feet overhead and they would not notice it, while it could linger for an hour or more, recording their converstation. But the operator would have to have an idea they were there, and that was unlikely. Alex watched the second moon rising, the large green disk hanging just over the horizon while it's smaller, paler companion was overhead. They could not afford to stay long. "How are you making out with accommodations for your people?" Alex asked Kurt. "As well as can be expected" replied Kurt. "They're scattered, some in camping vehicles and tents up in the hills, others have gone to other places - relatives living some distance away, a few safe houses we have nearby. Your warning saved us all - it could have been over for us if they had surprised us." "If you need anything, not or later, you have a lot of connections right here, and we have plenty of others." said Alex. "What are your plans for the near future?" "I want to see everyone safe, and then decide where to rebuild, if we do" replied Kurt. "You're not considering giving up, are you?" "Not at all. But rebuilding here would be foolish. They'd come back." "Would you want to be part of a reprisal operation?" asked Ales. Kurt smiled grimly. "Absolutely. Even if I have to do it alone, they'll pay for this." "You certainly won't be alone" said Alex. "By the time you get things squared away, we should have an idea of how to proceed. Do you need us to help with anything now?" "We're all right for now" replied Kurt. "Several of my senior men are nearby, I've got to get back to them. Thanks for helping us out. And be sure to let me know whey you're ready to strike." "We'd best be going then" said Alex. "It's not good to expose ourselves. We'll be in touch." As Kurt turned and walked back over the hill, the others returned to their vehicles and prepared to leave.