Patriots United
Page 17
“Oh, didn’t want him exposed to more snipers, eh?” Morgan asked. “Good.”
“I saw you,” Ben said, looking at Morgan in the dim light. “On the TV, when you and the others testified about the UN captivity. Your courage impressed the hell out of me.”
Morgan shot him an embarrassed look.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s okay, Ben,” she said. “I’m glad I did it. Most of the others are here too.”
“Then we’re in good company,” Ben said.
“I saw the video of you too, Ben,” Robbie said. “The right thing at the right time. Very brave. I’m in awe.”
“Likewise,” Seth said.
“Well, I’d be dead if not for Ivan,” Ben said, “more than once.”
Seth took off his backpack, and started pulling computer equipment out, setting it on a table. “This okay?”
“Go for it,” Elmer said. “There’s enough power strips to get started.”
“You want to use Wi-Fi down here, or ethernet lines?” Clem asked, looking at the wiring coming in.
“Either would work for us,” Kaitlyn said.
“Whatever is faster,” Ben said. “We’re gonna have a lot of conversations going on. We’ll need to expand this team, too. You guys know that, right?”
“How many people are you thinking?” Elmer asked. “Matters for the electrical.”
“I’d like at least eight more,” Ben said.
“Okay, I’ll wire it for that,” Elmer said.
Susanne came in with a few ladies, picking up the remainder of the supplies. “How’s it going?”
“I think this will work,” Elmer said. “Sorry to displace you.”
“Ah, hell, you were right, you old bushwhacker,” she said. “We’re setting up shop in the mill instead of down here. Those ammo belts are too heavy to carry around, and we don’t have the explosion issues anymore.”
“I thought you wanted to be cool,” Elmer said.
“The mill has those swamp coolers, remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” Elmer said. “That’ll help. I’ll be up there after this to make sure you got everything you need.”
“Thanks,” she said. “C’mon, girls, let’s go.” She paused, seeing Sarah standing next to Clem, and came over.
“Hi, Susanne,” Sarah said, looking nervous.
“I saw you moved,” she said softly. “Sorry about last night.”
“No worries. I actually like being closer to Clem, but don’t spread that around too much.”
“I had a feeling,” she said, a sly grin on her face. “Enjoy. No hard feelings.”
Sarah nodded, and Susanne turned and joined her group, picking up a box of shell casings.
“Glad that’s over with,” Sarah whispered. Clem nodded, touching her shoulder.
“Me too. Want to help me with this?”
“What can I do?” Sarah asked.
“Probably help me to pull wires. We might need to go into town.”
She giggled. “Oh, we’re going to Scooter’s again?”
Elmer laughed. “Oh, you met old Scooter, huh? He’s well stocked, but he talks your ear off. You ask him what time it is and he tells you how to build a watch.”
Clem laughed. “Yeah, I noticed. I need to pace this out to see how much cable I’ll need. Want to show me where the internet source is?”
“Sure,” Elmer said. “Let’s go.” The three left the room.
“Can you tell me about this history program of yours?” Ben asked, walking over to Seth.
“Yeah, I’m interested in that too.” Robbie said.
They pulled up chairs next to Seth’s table.
“I’ll show you,” Seth said. He opened the program.
“Better run it, honey,” Kaitlyn said. “We didn’t run an AM report today, with all the excitement.”
Seth nodded, clicking on the report button. “This will take a little while. We’ve got a pretty good dataset. Wish we had a strong desktop system to run this on.”
“That’s a gamer laptop, at least,” Robbie said, looking at it.
“It is, but it just doesn’t have the raw power.”
“What is your program doing?” Ben asked.
“It takes a snapshot of all the enemy hits within the region every few minutes. We’re using outside servers to crunch and store the raw data.”
“Outside servers?” Robbie asked. “That safe?”
“Yeah,” Seth said. “It’s all encrypted, which is part of the computing power issue.”
“Why does it matter how powerful the local machine is, then?” Ben asked.
“Kaitlyn is an Excel expert,” Seth said. “She developed a reporting tool, which takes about sixty pages of VB code to run. That takes a while with this machine.”
“What’s your program telling you that you can’t see by running the apps live?” Robbie asked.
“We originally developed this so we could watch for Islamists disappearing and reappearing,” Kaitlyn said.
“Why?” Ben asked.
“We got attacked by Islamists in lead-shielded vans,” Seth said. “It was two UN Peacekeepers driving, the back shielded part of the van full of Islamist fighters. Got the drop on us a couple times. We were afraid they’d expand that capability, and we wanted some warning. If a whole bunch of these cretins disappear all of a sudden, we know there’s something up.”
“I get it,” Morgan said. “They can’t just hide themselves. If they leave an area, you’ll see them. If they drop off the screen completely, you’ll know they’ve effectively hidden themselves.”
“Yep, and we’ll know what the numbers are, too,” Kaitlyn said.
“Genius, man,” Ben said.
“How big of an area do you cover?” Robbie asked.
“We’ve got it set to a thousand square miles,” Seth said. “That’s why it’s taking so long to run.”
“Wow,” Ben said, squinting at the screen as the computer chugged away at the data.
“Maybe we should talk about our strengths, so we can decide who does what,” Robbie said.
Ben smiled. “Good idea.”
“Agreed,” Kaitlyn said, looking at Seth, who shook his head yes, eyes glued to the laptop screen.
“I’m good at copy writing,” Robbie said. “I’d rather write fiction, but I made money on the side writing text that would draw people in, and it worked.”
“So, when we start recruitment, you’d be key to draw interest,” Ben said. “We had a person like that in the last team, and she was essential.”
“Did you lose her in the ambush?” Robbie asked.
Ben nodded yes, trying to keep the emotion from taking him.
“Seth and I are good with technical stuff,” Kaitlyn said. “Data gathering and analysis.”
“That’s obvious,” Ben said. “I know the internet community like the back of my hand. I know where to kick things off, who to enlist to help us get the word out, and so on. Got that ability as a campus radical.”
“You were a campus radical?” Robbie asked. “You mean like SDS?”
Ben laughed. “No, more like the Sons of Liberty.”
The laptop beeped.
“It’s done, honey,” Kaitlyn said, turning to see him staring at the screen, already opening the report.
“Dammit,” he said. “We’ve got to talk to Garrett and the others.”
“You see something?” Robbie asked.
“Julian. About seven hundred enemy fighters vanished overnight. Wish I would’ve run this before we went into the meeting.”
“They can’t hide that many people in shielded vehicles, can they?” Morgan asked.
Seth looked at her, brow furrowed. He went to his browser, typing in the search window. Robbie pulled his phone out and sent a text.
“Who are you texting to?” Ben asked.
“Jules,” Robbie said. “He’ll spread the word around.”
“Crap,” Seth said.
&nb
sp; “What?” Kaitlyn asked, getting closer to him, looking at the laptop screen.
“What’s it say?” Ben asked.
“I searched on how many people fit in a semi-trailer.”
“Oh,” Ben said. “And?”
“In a two-trailer rig, the number is over five hundred,” he said, looking back at them. “This page is about illegal immigrant smugglers.”
“Son of a bitch,” Robbie said. “They could get seven hundred folks here in two semi rigs.”
“How far is Julian from here?” Morgan asked.
Robbie pulled out his phone and loaded the GPS program. “Worst case, a couple hours. They’re probably already here.”
“No,” Kaitlyn said.
Robbie’s phone dinged with a text.
“Jules?” Morgan asked.
“Yeah, he’s mobilizing everybody,” Robbie said.
“Should we get out there?” Ben asked.
“No, they want us to keep watching this,” Robbie said. He kicked off the report again, adjusting the range down to two-hundred square miles. “It’ll run a lot faster at this setting.”
“I’ll get set up,” Ben said, pulling the laptop out of his backpack.
“I’m doing the same,” Robbie said.
Morgan glanced at Kaitlyn. “Let’s go grab our guns, just in case.”
“You run your report,” Seth said, getting out of the chair. “I’ll go do that–I’ll grab your AK and my M60.”
“I’ll help,” Morgan said, looking at Robbie, who nodded yes.
{16}
Gravel
S id, Sam, Ed, Tyler, Ryan, and Garrett were moving slowly through the back of the Dodge City property in the Jeep Unlimited with its top down, eyes peeled at the tracks coming from behind the ridge.
“Here it is,” Sid said. “Stop. I’m getting out.”
Sam nodded, parking the vehicle. Everybody got out, M60s or M4s in hand.
“There’s an old stagecoach route back here,” Garrett said. “This trail runs into it after a couple miles.”
“Is it drivable?” Ed asked.
Garrett thought for a moment. “It’s rutted as hell in spots, but any four-wheel-drive vehicle could handle it. A heavy-duty two-wheel drive could handle most of it.”
“Where does it go?” Tyler asked.
“Off our land,” Garrett said. “Across Mother Grundy Truck Trail Road, and on into Deerhorn Valley. It kinda links up with Honey Springs Road.”
“Kinda?” Sid asked, stopping.
“There’s a gap between this road and the highway, because of a seasonal creek. Used to go through originally, but I read that every year it got washed out. They eventually moved the stagecoach route someplace else. I’d be surprised if that little van could hack it.”
“We should follow this all the way,” Sid said. “Are there any forks before the stagecoach road?”
“Nothing but hiking trails,” Garrett said.
“Good, then let’s go,” Sid said.
Sam got behind the wheel again, Sid riding shotgun, the rest getting in back. They drove forward.
“How far to your property line?” Ed asked, looking at Garrett.
“Couple miles, give or take.”
“Hell of a spread,” Tyler said. “This is almost as big as our reservation.”
“Heard anything about your reservation?” Garrett asked. “I sure would like to go to your casino again.”
Ed’s expression was sad. “I hope we have enough left of the tribe to re-open it after this.”
“We will,” Ryan said. “Trust me.”
“I hope you’re right,” Ed said.
They road silently for a while, crossing over Mother Grundy Truck Trail Road, heading outside of Garrett’s land. The sun was higher in the sky, the heat hitting them harder with the top off the Jeep.
“Should’ve brought a hat,” Sam said.
“You need one of these,” Garrett said, tipping his cowboy hat.
“Maybe so,” Sam replied.
“Slow down,” Sid said.
Sam took his foot off the accelerator. “You see something?”
Sid nodded. “What’s with the grayish white pebbles all of a sudden?”
“What grayish white pebbles?” Garrett asked.
“Stop the Jeep,” Sid said. Sam put on the brakes and Sid jumped out, walking to one of them. He picked it up and brought it over.
“Crap, that looks like it came from a gravel road,” Garrett said, eyes darting around.
“Maybe somebody filled that creek you were talking about with gravel, so they could drive across it,” Sid said.
“Son of a bitch,” Garrett said. “They’re building a road back here.”
“Who owns this land?” Sam asked.
“It’s BLM. Tried to petition to buy it, but the Feds wouldn’t have it. They tried to force us off our land at one point, to get us to back off.”
“Interesting,” Sid said. “Wonder why?”
“I thought it was because of the stagecoach road, and the ruins on our land. Knowing what I know about those cretins now, could’ve been anything.”
“Let’s keep going,” Sid said.
The men got back in the Jeep, seeing more of the gravel as they rolled forward, the terrain turning from flat into rolling hills, the road rising and falling ahead of them.
***
Ivan’s meeting in the saloon was just ending, when his cellphone buzzed. He looked at it, then held up his hand. “Hold it a minute. This is from one of our contacts on the southern border. I’ll put it on speaker.”
Ivan answered and pushed the speaker button. “This is Ivan.”
“Ivan, how are you? This is Conrad.”
“I’m good. You’re on speaker, and I’ve got team members in the room. How’s things down by Jacumba?”
“It’s turned into a big city,” he said. “You heard we were using artillery on the enemy, right?”
“Yeah, we heard,” Ivan said. “What’s on your mind?”
“We heard that Highway 94 was open again, and wanted to suggest that you bring your battle wagons and off-roaders down that way. The enemy is fanning out wide due to the artillery. We see a pretty large group heading for the area south of Tierra Del Sol Road.”
“I know where that is,” Willard said.
“You sure we want to pull everything away from here, partner?” Tex asked. “We’ve got a lot of people and supplies to protect.”
“I wouldn’t bring them all,” Conrad said. “What do you have?”
Jules came closer. “We have forty-five off-roaders, and thirty-three battle wagons. How many men head to that spot?”
“Hard to tell exactly,” Conrad said. “Couple hundred thousand. It’s the extreme western tip of the enemy advance. We’re bringing people straight south from Ocotillo as well, to widen our presence on the border.”
“No more than half, no?” Jules said.
Ivan glanced over at him, then looked at the phone. “We need to discuss this. How far is the enemy from the border right now?”
“Thirty miles, but they’ve slowed down, now that we’ve scattered them with the artillery.”
Ted looked up from his phone. “Yeah, that’s what I’m seeing on the apps.
“Me too,” Sparky said. “The center section is a little ahead of the west and east tips.”
“That’s where we have our biggest concentration of men,” Conrad said. “I’ll let you go.”
“Talk to you soon,” Ivan said. He ended the call, then sat back down. “I guess we’re not done after all.”
“So it would appear,” Sparky said.
“We can’t make an agreement on this without Sam, Ed, Garrett, and Sid,” Erica said.
“I agree,” Jules said.
Tex nodded, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair. “Yep.”
Ivan was silent for a moment, thinking.
“You think it’s okay to go ahead without them, partner?” Tex asked.
&nbs
p; “No, no,” Ivan said, “I agree with the concerns. The entire leadership team must agree on this. I’m leaning against it, truth be told.”
“Why?”
“What we’ll face down there is a multitude of enemy fighters on foot, spread out in a wide area. They’ll dig in and make us come to them, and we’ll expend all our grenades trying to hit them. I’d rather hit what’s left of them on the road, when they’re more bunched together.”
“I agree, partner,” Tex said. “This is a better job for the citizen infantry. They’ll be more effective.”
“We can’t guarantee no hit here,” Jules said, rubbing his chin. “They try yesterday, no? They try again today or tomorrow.”
“That’s another thing,” Ivan said, “but we can’t take a request from our southern flank lightly, either. We need to work this out in detail. When are the others due back?”
“Few hours,” Erica said. “Last text I got from Sam said they were following an old stagecoach road to the northeast. That’s where the van tracks led them.”
“Crap, that’s not good,” Willard said. “That road goes way out into BLM land, and ends up dangerously close to the highway.”
“What highway?” Tex asked.
“Honey Springs Road,” Willard said. “Which is a good route from Julian. Go south on Highway 79, make a couple transitions, and you’re on that damn road.”
Tex’s brow furrowed. “How many hours is that?”
“Just a sec,” Erica said, looking at her phone. “Hell, under two hours.”
“Dammit,” Ivan said.
Jules’s phone dinged with a text. He read it, then hit a contact and put the phone to his ear, walking away.
“Wonder who that is?” Tex asked, “didn’t like his expression.”
Ivan shot a glance, his brow furrowed. Jules was back in a moment.
“I have Robbie on line. Seth and Kaitlyn’s program show problem. On speaker.” He set his phone down on the table and pushed the speaker button. “You hear us, Robbie?”
“Loud and clear,” Robbie said. “Ben, Seth, Kaitlyn, and Morgan are here.”
“Tell what see,” Jules said.
Tex put his hat back on. “Yeah, partner, let us have it. We’ll add it to the pile of other good news.”