Chapter 16 G L O C Y I M Y V D U E D A R D G O A S D R E B Y I Z O D O Gordon Williams was watching television on one of the three large computer screens mounted on the wall of his study. A couple of smaller screens, no more than two feet wide, sat on a desk beside his chair. He could do almost everything necessary with the remote control, and rarely needed the keyboard and console screens. In the weeks since the raid on the black site, there had been no indications of interest by the government, and he wondered what it meant. There was always some word by now - the League was not the only organization with agents inside the government. Some of the more organized militias, because there were so many former military men in them, had regular contact with the military forces. And none of Gordon's contacts had anything - not even a rumor that it had happened. It could be they were too busy, he thought. Since the city of Columbia, Ohio had been mostly cut off from the rest of the country weeks earlier, several similar incidents had further taxed the government's already inadequate resources. The situation in some of the cities had, it seemed, deteriorated to the point that large areas had simple been sealed off, and rumors of inhuman conditions inside were leaking out. Not that he would see it on the left-hand screen, he thought. The regular news from the various broadcasting companies was there, presented by picture-perfect presenters, mostly young women and a few young men with perfect hair, makeup, and wardrobes. Those types lived in the suburbs or small towns near the places where they worked, and even in the areas that had been cut off they probably could escape by taking a small airplane out of one of the outlying airports. Even when they were watching the cities burning and people killing one another, they seemed to have no connection to that part of the world, above it all with nothing to worry about. It would be a hard fall for those types, he thought, and it was probably going to come sooner than even he expected. So perhaps, he thought, there simply were no resources available to pursue him and his comrades. That was a attractive thought - they might soon be able to go from active attacks to defending their territories, and the attackers would most likely would not be government forces but poorly organized and equipped civilians. He had a meeting with Alex and the leaders of their allies in the recent operation, mostly for the purpose of planning their future strategy. He would be driving out to the meeting location in the morning. He hoped they were entering a phase during which the defunct republic would be preoccupied with destroying itself. Sir Walter had hinted that the League had a plan for taking advantage of such a situation to restore the republic to its original form, and seemed confident of being able to do so. Gordon hoped he was right. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alex locked up the house, as Cassandra sat in the car watching him. Jessica had purchased her some more clothing and she was now well supplied. She was indeed capable of doing laundry, and had done her own clothes and packed for the trip. The house secured, Alex got in the car and they drove away. There were several such houses in the area, and some of the personnel using them would watch this one for trespassers, particularly those of the official kind. He turned on to the highway, careful to stop at the stop sign even though there was not another vehicle in sight, and using his turn signal. It was not possible to be too careful - any excuse would do for a cop who wanted to check him out. In fact, an excuse was not needed - often they would simple stop a car out of curiosity or boredom, or hoping for a chance to make an significant bust. A lot of the new ones were out to move the ranks as quickly as possible, and that was the best way to do it. He wondered if he should get another car soon - this one hadn't been out much but he didn't want to use it long enough to establish any detectable pattern. He wished there was more traffic - the fewer cars there were the more likely it was one would be a target if a cop happened along. He hoped current events were keeping them busy and in the cities, rather than cruising the highways looking for something to do. Cassandra sat in the front passenger seat, a small duffel bag on her lap, looking out at the countryside. Alex often wondered what went on in her head. Her behavior had become quite normal, except for not talking and her refusal to be separated from him. There had been a couple of more visits with Jessica, and Cassandra tolerated her presence, and she had no fear of strangers when they were in public. As long as she's with me, Alex thought. Perhaps in time, things will improve. When he was looking straight ahead she occasionally looked over at him - in his peripheral vision he would catch the movement of her head. They stopped for gas at a small town and Alex bought them some candy bars and drinks. Even when eating candy her mood did not change - it was difficult to know if she enjoyed it. Whatever Alex provided was fine with her. An hour later they were nearing the meeting location. Alex had been aware of a car behind him, just far enough back that he couldn't see if it was a police car, but it had been there for a while now, and that was a sort of police behavior. He had left his jacket lying across the console - it had a pair of small .35 caliber revolvers in it, one in each pocket. He had a pair of double-action derringers in the same caliber inside his boots - each in a holster crafted into the top of the boot. The slim guns were difficult to detect in a cursory frisk or pat-down. He had practiced drawing them quickly, and they were almost as useful there as in any other position. A standard handcuff key was fastened to the back of his belt, with another in a back pocket of his jeans - the fabric too heavy for the tiny key to be detected. Of course, he thought, as long as he had surprise on his side he could disable one man, possibly two, without weapons. He had pursued some traditional martial arts training as a youth, continuing while in the army, and had done well in some competitions. But Patrick had introduced him to a man who opened his eyes to the realities of hand-to-hand combat. An older man, seemingly not so strong or agile as Alex, in their first few sparring sessions had quickly destroyed any illusions of competence, and they showed him what must have been every dirty trick available, coupled with a cool viciousness that could destroy any normal man in seconds, and possibly two or three at a time. The car was closing in now, and eventually Alex could see that it had been joined by a second car. So he was waiting for a backup to join him, he thought. This might be serious. And indeed, minutes later, the police cars were just behind him, and their lights came on. Alex employed the recommended measures to keep them calm. Activating his turn signal, he tapped the brakes briefly, then found a safe place to stop. He turned off the ignition, lowered the window, and placed his hands on the steering wheel and waited. It was another minute or two before the cop in the lead car approached, leaned over and looked Alex and Cassandra over. "May I see your license please?" he said. "It's in my right front shirt pocket" said Alex. "Take it out with your left hand" said the cop. They always kept their sunglasses on, and the day was cloudy enough that they weren't needed. Alex wasn't wearing his, but cops always try to intimidate, no matter how trivial the encounter might be. Alex understood it, but he sensed something more sinister here. He could see the other cop standing behind his car on the right side. He extracted the small case that contained his driver's license and some other cards, took the license out and handed it to the cop. He took it back to his car, got in, and sat there for several minutes. Alex knew he was checking him out, but verifying the validity of the license and the registration of the car would take less than a minute. Waiting for instructions, he thought. Cassandra sat quietly, looking in the mirror - likely at the cop standing not far behind her. "Don't worry" he said. "It's all right - we'll be going again in a few minutes." He could see the cop coming back now, and saw him unsnap the strap holding his gun in the holster. He checked the position of the other cop - he hadn't moved. He suspected they had talked on their radios, and the lead cop had described Cassandra to the other one, so he knew she was a young girl. Too bad, he thought. If you try to take me in you're probably going to be dead in a few seconds. He could probably disable the one bare-handed and shoot the other one. The cop stopped, this time standing back from the car slightly, hand on his gun. "Will you step out of the car, please?" he said. With both hands visible on the doorframe, Alex pushed the door open and stood up. As he did he heard the other door open. "Stay in the car," the other cop shouted. He knew without looking that Cassandra was getting out. "Stay in the car!" he shouted again. "She can't hear," said Alex. "She's deaf." That did it, he thought. Now they're confused. The cop facing him didn't know what to do, and Cassandra was now walking back toward the cop behind the car. He had his hand on his gun as well, and was about to draw. Now the cop facing him was distracted, just enough. Alex was far enough to one side to start his attack unnoticed. Three quick, hard blows to the side of the head and the cop was falling, probably already unconscious. As he fell, Alex moved behind him, grabbed him, using him as a shield, and pulled the gun out of the holster. The other cop how had his own weapon out, but couldn't shoot at Alex, who was almost completely hidden behind the other cop. Alex was about to shoot him when he saw Cassandra running at him from the side, saw the flash of metal in her hand, and saw her drive a knife into the cop's neck from the side. He dropped his gun and put his hands up to his neck, too late. She withdrew the knife and stepped back. He fell, on one side and then rolling over on his back. It appeared she had driven the blade completely through his neck, the blood pouring out and forming a rapidly widening pool. Cassandra knelt and wiped the blade on his shirt, and as she did he recognized the knife as one of his. There were any number of them lying about his office and bedroom - apparently she had appropriated one of them. He thought he was glad she had done so, but would have to consider it later. "Come on" he said. He found his driver's license where the cop had dropped it, picked it up and put it in his pocket. Cassandra got in the car and closed the door, and Alex started the engine and they drove away. It would be a few minutes before their headquarters became concerned about the lack of communication from the two cops, but probably the one he had knocked out would come to soon and report what had happened. If he was still alive - the blows Alex had administered could easily kill or leave a man in a coma. In any case they had to move fast. A description of the car would be transmitted to every cop within a few hundred miles, so they would have to take back roads to their destination. Luckily it wasn't far, and darkness was coming on. The first moon was up but in a dim phase, the second would be a couple of hours behind. Without further incident they arrived at their destination, and Alex was able to park the car inside a garage. It would be disposed of at a convenient time, and he would have to have another one brought out when it was time to leave. Along with another identity. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alex and Cassandra were the first arrivals at the safe house. Once inside, he showed Cassandra to a room where she stowed her gear. It was a large house in which each bedroom had a private bath. Cassandra had some blood on her clothes, and went to take a shower and change while Alex put his own gear in the room across the hall. When she emerged, they were still alone, so Alex took the time to talk to her. "Are you all right?" he asked. It was never possible to even guess what she was thinking. She nodded, so he would have to assume she was. She had just killed a man, a cop no less, and probably close to twice her size and weight. "Did you get the knife completely clean?" he asked next. She retrieved it from one of her bags and showed it to him. She had indeed cleaned it thoroughly - it was unlikely she had managed to wipe off the blood at the scene. It was more a small sword than a knife - about a foot of slim, double-edged blade with an incredibly sharp point, a cord-wrapped handle that was easily handled in her small hands. She replaced it in the sheath and laid it on the bed. "Is that the only one you took?" he asked. Another nod. "Have you ever used weapons before?" She shook her head. "Would you like to learn how to use a gun?" A nod. He wondered why she did it. There was likely a fear of uniformed men, having been imprisoned - and probably worse - by men in uniforms. But he suspected there was more. "Did you do it because they were police?" he asked. A bit of uncertainty this time. It was something else. "Was it because they were going to take me away?" This time a nod, no hesitance at at all. He had suspected that she would defend him with her own life - he had given her life when she thought it was all over, and he was now her entire world. Looking down at her small, seemingly frail figure, the big dark eyes with their helpless, lost look - it was hard to remember the ferocity of her attack, the lethal precision and complete decisiveness of her action. She had read the situation correctly, and made her move at just the right time. She would make an excellent partner, he thought. Especially with her disarming appearance. And just how, he wondered, was he going to operate without leaving her somewhere, something he now knew he could not do. He heard someone downstairs, hoped it was one of his comrades. He had locked the door, and only one of they would know how to get in. He had the .40 caliber pistol he had taken from the cop, and checked the chamber, then the magazine. It was full, fourteen rounds. "I'll be back in a few minutes" he said. "If anything goes wrong go out the door just outside - there's a stairway to the ground." He went to the top of the stairs, heard someone whistling a tune. That would be Gordon. He looked down, saw him pass the bottom of the stairs, look up. Shoving the gun into his waistband he went down. "Gordon, I have a lot to tell you in a short time" he said. He quickly updated him on the situation. "I picked up some chatter on the underground channels" said Gordon. "One cop dead and another critical - that was you?" "Yeah" said Alex. "They were there to take me in. Somehow they were onto me, but whether it was just suspicion or something solid I don't know. I'd give a lot to have those cops alive and able to talk, but there was no other way." "That would be useful to know" said Gordon. "But I suspect our worries about surveillance are being mitigated somewhat. They're using every resource they can muster to combat the big fires - literally. Not only are the isolated cities burning, but the rioting has spread to just about all of the major cities. It seems to be organized, much like the riots in the days before the government went completely bad. They used the disturbances for their own political agenda, now it looks like it's being done to them. That may give us more freedom of movement." "I hope so" said Alex, "although the idea of decent people trapped in those places isn't pleasant." "These things rarely are" replied Gordon. "But, harsh as it may seem, they should have been paying attention and been ready to leave, if they hadn't already done so. You know as well as I do you can't save people from themselves. Even on an individual basis, and certainly not entire societies." "Patrick used to say, self-deception is the most effective kind" said Alex. "I guess that applies to self-destruction as well. I'd better get back up to Cassandra - can't leave her alone too long." Cassandra was entertaining her self with her tablet - Alex had gotten her a phone and a medium-sized tablet of the type favored by most people, from children to business people - and she was watching a video. She looked like a completely normal child, he thought as he looked at her. He hope she might someday achieve some degree of normality. She put the tablet down as he entered, stood up and walked over to him. Putting her arms around him, she laid her head against him and held onto him. Her head barely reached his chest, and he put his arms around her shoulders and held her small, frail form against him. They rarely had any physical contact beyond an occasional brush when in close quarters, or their hands touching when passing some object between them. The only other time she had touched him this way was when he suggested having Jessica find her a place to stay - on that occasion she had been hysterical, now she was calm and at peace. She looked up at him and smiled slightly, her eyes now seeming happy as well. They let go of each other and she stepped back, sitting down on the bed. "I have to have some meetings with some men" he said. "The men who were with me when I took you away from that place. Will you be all right here while we talk? It won't be long, once the others arrive." She nodded and picked up her tablet, and Alex went over to this room. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was later in the night when the remaining members arrived. Glenn Miller and Chuck Stanley, the Red and Blue leaders, along with the most senior leader of the Black Hand militia, a former military officer named Curtis Holland arrived, and joined Gordon and Alex in drinking whiskey, smoking cigars and talking, mostly about weapons and the experiences of their military careers. Near midnight Kurt finally arrived and joined them in a final drink before they went to bed. Cassandra was already asleep when Alex checked on her. Having done that, he suddenly realized he was quite tired. He never had difficulty going to sleep, and tonight he had even less. The sun was well up when he awoke, and Cassandra was already up and dressed. After a quick shower he dressed and went over to her room. "Would you like to go down and have breakfast with us?" Alex asked. She seemed uncertain. "These are the men who were with me when we took you of of the prison" he said. There are only five of them. I thought you might want to meet them." After a moment she nodded, and then went down. Gordon and Kurt were preparing breakfast, the others drinking coffee and staying out of the way. Alex found some orange juice for Cassandra, introduced her to the men - Gordon and Kurt, now setting food on the table, greeted her when Alex introduced them. Cassandra sat beside Alex, still shy but seemingly at ease. Afterward she went back up to her room. The strategy meeting was more of an update session than anything else. The situation was now such that their enemy was being torn apart by circumstances that were rapidly going beyond anyone's control, if they were not already there. The six largest cities in the nation were in flames, much of their supply of food, wate, and energy cut off. And with a large number of bridges destroyed, vehicular traffic in or out of the affected areas was limited. While the armed forces were, under the new constitution, permitted to act against the civilian population, actually doing so had escalated the situation beyond their ability to control. Rumors of abject desperation in the nation's capital were common now, many of them fueled by refugees - lower-level officials and employees who had fled, seeking a safe place outside the cities. Governors and mayors had fled their posts as well. "It looks conditions are right" said Gordon, "but we can't be sure about the timing. My impression is, from talking with Sir Walter, that he - and the League in general - were hoping it would reach this state later." "That was mine as well" said Alex. "We were expecting to to continue our operations, but there seems to be no one to fight. We should probably be looking to our own defenses - our installations and whatever territory we can control. There are some people escaping from the cities - at this point they're small numbers and scattered, but we may at some point have a horde on our hands." "I suspect that's a certainty" said Gordon. "It's just a matter of time. We're supposed to have a conference call with Sir Walter later, and whatever information he has may give us some guidance. "Glenn, how are you and Chuck situated, asset and readiness-wise?" The two men looked at each other, Chuck indicated with a nod to Glenn to speak. "We've approximately equal strength" Glenn said. We have just over six hundred men, plenty of small arms and ammunition. Most of have military experience, and in our own territory we have little to fear. We know the area, even a well-trained professional force would have serious problems with us - we could handle an enemy several times our size." He looked at Chuck. "We're probably down a little to the Reds" Chuck said. "Probably five hundred forty, fifty. But same situation - our territories are contiguous, so between us we probably can probably control four to five thousand square miles. Our improvised armor - you saw some of it in action - is useful but has its limits. If we could persuade you to leave the Typhoons here, they could be useful." "Given the changing situation, that might be possible" said Gordon. "We'll bring it up with Sir Walter. Shipping them back in this environment might not be a good idea anyway - there's much more surveillance of traffic. As Alex found out." Alex had informed the group of his experience, but only afterward had suspected why he was targeted. "I was wondering how they were onto me" he said. "I thought the car gave me away, too much exposure and the finally picked up something suspicious. But it's more likely, somewhere a camera got a good picture of Cassandra and they made the connection, or at least suspected who she was. They're getting pretty good at identifying people that way - something we should remember." "Curtis, what's your view?" asked Gordon. "Numerically, we're fairly big" he said. "Something over sixteen hundred men, but that's essentially sixteen hundred men with rifles, handguns, and not much else. We're all locals, scattered around the area - we know all the hiding places, landmarks, trails - a capagle guerilla outfit. We're organized into four units, each with at least one retired military officer and some other experienced veterans. Probably half of us have military experience. But essentially, it's a get you rifle and go, when it's time for action." "Your men did well in the operation" said Gordon. "And now you have a couple hundred men who've been through the fire. I know this is not a pleasant subject - but you and Kurt took some losses. How are your people doing with that?" "As well as can be expected" Curtis said. "The families, where the men have them, are completely committed. We all know what can happen. They have a lot of support from the group - probably half the men had wives or girlfriends with them. But as you say, it's not easy." Gordon looked at Kurt. "It's the same with use" Kurt said. "Of course, our people have lost everything they had, and were all supportive of our participation. If we hadn't been warned in time to evacuate, we would have lost a lot more. We owe you more than I know how to tell you." "We need to keep this in mind, not forgetting how serious this," said Gordon. And how much worse it might become" One of the dormant screens came to life and a message scrolled across the bottom. "It looks like our conference call is about to begin" he said. He picked up the remote control and entered some codes, and shortly Sir Walter and Myles appeared on the screen. "Welcome, gentlemen" said Sir Walter. "How is everything out there?" "Quite well," replied Gordon. "How are things there?" "As you've noticed, things are moving rather fast now." said Sir Walter. "So we're quite busy. Myles and I will have to leave shortly, probably as early as tomorrow. I'm not sure how long we'll be gone, but at least a few days. Tyler is your main contact here, and we can conference if necessary. "At this point, it looks like all of us - your outfits, the League - are in a holding pattern. Something we didn't anticipate is happening, and we don't yet know why. The force we see creating these situations in the large cities, and we are fairly certain it's an organized operation, has pushed the situation well beyond were we expected to be at this point, so for the immediate future our plan is to maintain a low profile, while remaining ready for action." "Any ideas at all about who's doing it?" asked Gordon. "Some suspect the Russians may have an interest, but which faction is anyone's guess. I would suspect it isn't one friendly to us - they would at least consult us, and in any case they seem to be in agreement with our schedule. Another faction, possibly, but we would likely know about it by now. It could be an internal force, but it's strange that we have no signs of an organization with that ability - large amounts of military explosives, and the knowledge to use them, have been involved - and that suggests military involvement." "That's what I've been thinking" said Gordon. "But until the time I retired, and in fact when talking with my contacts who are still on active duty, there's never been any suggestion something like that was going on. Of course, if it's within the Army, they would have to be extremely careful and secretive, and keep it small. One leak and they would be done. "It's possible, of course, they are allowing the materials and information to be passed to civilian forces. Perhaps one of the more capable militias - there are a number of them that might have that kind of capability." "That makes a certain amount of sense" said Curtis. "We talk to some of them, naturally, but it's not the sort of thing they would share. Still, we can do some discreet investigative work." "Whoever it is, they definitely know what they're doing" said Sir Walter. "And it might not be such a bad thing - they're doing a lot of our work, and all the resources of the government will soon be engaged in dealing with this, military forces included. It gives us a lot of freedom of operation. At this point, though, we need to secure our own territories, work on recruiting likely allies, building up our forces. Sooner or later, I suspect, they will be needed. "Is there anything else we can to to help you?" "How likely is it that the Typhoons could stay out here for a while?" asked Gordon. They would be quite useful." "I believe that could be arranged" said Sir Walter. "It would probably be preferable to trying to ship them back under these conditions. In fact, there is a river between us now that can only be crossed by a lengthy detour - the bridge over the Coronado river at Dallas is out. I'll find out, and let you know. Or more likely Tyler will contact you if we have to leave right away." After the conference ended, the group discussed further plans, deciding to concentrate on working together to form a coherent unit of their organizations, throught exchange programs to allow their members to become acquainted and practice working together. Alex and Gordon, not members of any group, would spend time with them sharing their knowledge and experience, and taking some of them on intelligence operations. It was somewhat late for lunch, so several of them began preparing dinner. Alex excused himself in order to check on Cassandra. She was sleeping, but woke as he entered the room. "We're all done with meetings" he said. "We're fixing dinner now. Do you want to eat with us?" She nodded shyly, got up and put her shoes on, and followed him downstairs. She smiled shyly in response to greetings from the men, and sat down beside Alex. She was a beautiful girl, becoming more so every day as her health improved. The combination youth, beauth, and tragedy aroused their protective instincts, as it would in any decent man. And rough and ready to do violence as they were, they were essentially decent men and would give their own lives to protect her. They were good men living in bad times, and no matter how calm and professional they might be, they experienced the doubts and fears of any man in such a situation. Most of them were sufficiently tired as to go to bed right away, and Alex certainly was. After seeing Cassandra off to her room, he went to his own and was soon asleep.