“She sure is something,” he said to me.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I replied.
“Where is Jacob?” Cindy asked.
“Weeeelllll,” I answered evasively. “It seems his dad caught him playing grab ass with Alisha in the woods and made him haul the deer back that the squad killed. I’m not sure if he is figuring out what to say but, in his defense, it was a big buck so he is probably either getting the sleds or quartering it so Alisha can help carry it back.”
“That’s mean honey,” said Cindy with reproach punching the Major in the arm. “She is a nice girl and lives in the cul-de-sac with her mom and grandmother, Ginny. Her dad is a doctor that stayed at the hospital and saw it all the way through to the end.”
“Has she been hanging around you and Belle?” he asked with a smile. “Because that would be truly cruel to Jacob.”
“Wait until you meet Ginny,” I replied with a big smile. “My wife is a minnow compared to that Barracuda. Tell me if you can Major, are you on orders?”
“We are,” he replied quietly. “Perhaps if you have some more of this scotch we can sit by the fire and I will tell you a story.”
The first soldier came out of the house in a fresh set of fatigues and his used towel, nodded to the Major and started lacing up his boots and repacking his pack.
“Soldier! Freeze right there,” my wife said in her command voice from the patio door, waving a spoon at the Corporal. “You get that gear in the basket right now. Now go get your gear squared away at the RV and get those boots clean before you get back. And you,” she said, pointing her spoon at the Major. “Get moving. I appreciate the martyrdom of waiting until your crew is squared away before taking care of yourself but I have this handled.”
“Copy that ma’am,” he said with a smile while his wife ushered him and his gear upstairs to their quarters.
“And I’ll only hold dinner for an extra fifteen minutes, your wife wants to talk to you.”
A half an hour later the crew came out of the woods all freshened up and the Major and Cindy, both with wet hair, came to join us at the table. Jacob had made it back in time for dinner after dropping Alisha and the deer back at Ginny’s. We said grace and dug into a hearty meal of roast beef, mashed potatoes and snap peas. I offered the soldiers a beer but they politely declined until the Major looked at the Sergeant and covertly held up two fingers, then made a telephone gesture. The Sergeant nodded and said, “Gomez and Hannity, you have the watch. Squee, James and Nelson please enjoy a beer.”
After dinner the Sergeant turned to my wife and said, “Thank you ma’am, that was the best meal I’ve had in a long time and your quarters are beyond our wildest expectations. If it is all right, my men and I would like to get some rack time.”
“Thank you Gunny,” my wife replied. “Breakfast is at 6.”
“0600, yes ma’am. We will be here.”
“Oh and Sergeant,” she said in an off-handed manner. “Can you please count off the contents of that basket over there before you leave? It looks a little light from here in my estimation. I plan to get it soaking before I go to bed so I’d hate to see you try and get past my dogs with a late night incursion after you have mysteriously “found” the missing clothing.”
“Yes Ma’am. Sir.” He nodded at the Major.
“Thank you Sergeant.”
The ladies went into the house and started on the dishes. Major Harrison asked if we could go for a walk to check out the perimeter of the property. I reloaded the scotch glasses and took the dogs for a walk.
“You have a fine place here James. Are you a “prepper?” You don’t seem like the sort.”
“There is a full range of preppers out there, from the hardcore far right-wing militia survivalists to the suburban tacticool pretenders. I’m more of the Boy Scout variety, with a “be prepared” common sense kind of attitude. I actually took my cues from the Mormon Church prepper doctrine and Alaska off grid mentalities than anything else. I couldn’t see my wife sporting camo full time. I knew my homestead was unique so I worked on turning it into my own Alamo.”
“You are doing much better than most. Locally, Pierce County is doing OK but Tacoma is a war zone. King County is not doing well, downtown Seattle is on fire, the space needle is on the ground and the eastside is crawling with roving gangs. Snohomish County past Bothell is doing OK. The tri-cities area and Eastern Washington are doing well while Olympia and Thurston County are struggling. We have had little contact with Whatcom County. In a nutshell, any area with a population center greater than fifty thousand people is burning. The Federal government has focused its efforts on getting as many people out of the cities by creating safety corridors to the Midwest and the Mississippi Delta. They figured it would be far better to get the people to the food than vice versa. Without the mechanized equipment we would have had thousands of acres of food and feed rotting in the fields and millions of heads of livestock dying of starvation and thirst. They have managed to get food flowing along rail lines using steam-powered engines but they can’t get across the Rockies or the Cascades. The East and West are essentially standalone regions. Texas is Texas. Montana didn’t know the power went out and the people of Idaho were glad it did. Utah was particularly well prepared since part of their church doctrine is to store at least a year’s worth of supplies and the means to protect it. We are trying to get the desert states into Western California and Texas so the acres of food there can get processed and preserved. We are literally moving the people to the food instead of vice versa. The military has been tasked with guarding the nuclear arsenal and our submarines are on station telling the world that if you attack the continental Unites States, we will turn your country into a slag heap. Washington has numerous bases but the biggest by far is Lewis McChord. It is actually one of the largest bases in the country. Our General there, under the orders of the President has opened the base up to a FEMA camp and kept a small battalion of soldiers to guard the mechanized equipment and armaments. He has sent the Ranger battalions out into the areas that have civilian elected officials to help secure the area and pacify any insurgents. We had heard that Gig Harbor had been mostly pacified and sectored into four towns. My orders were to place four squads covertly, one into each area, to help out where we can. Our General feels that we will be fighting a guerrilla war and that we would be of most use helping the civilian population. I have the overall operational command of the four squads in Gig Harbor and while we can’t help logistically, we can help with expertise, communication and co-ordination. I understand you are this towns’ elected leader and I would love to hear from your three counterparts.”
“So, the army has made you all Green Berets and we are the indigenous population?” I asked.
“Maybe they will give me a Girl Scout hat if I do a good job.”
“Well, here is the situation. Old man Stutz, Cindy’s boss, has Arletta nailed down. The Crazy Croatian Bujacich is a fish catching machine and will pull all our chestnuts out of the fire come winter. We are doing fine here in Artondale. The City is coming around now that they shit canned the Mayor and voted in the Fire Chief to replace him. We have a gang holed up at one of the greenhouse operations that we need to dislodge, nasty gangs in Tacoma, a women’s prison amazon gang in one of our parks that may or may not be friendly, a biker gang on the Peninsula that is pimping out teenagers and some pirates raiding the coast to the North. Add that to my dwindling sex life and we have a tasty shit sandwich on the table.”
“Try a massage and some scented candles,” he said with a grin. “Can you mark Rosedale Gardens on my map here?”
“Sure,” I said pointing to the location on the Major’s map. “I have had it under twenty-four-hour observation from here on the map. We have the guard patterns down but anytime the alarm goes up they herd the civilian slave labor they are using to the wire and use them as human shields. I haven’t figured out how to breach it without killing half the civilians in there.”
“D
on’t worry, we’ll get it cleaned up by the end of the week. I saw the remnants and after action report on your grange attack. Not bad for an amateur.”
“How would your crew have done it different?” I asked defensively.
“More snipers and a direct incursion following the Trojan horse back gate takedown. The trick is to never let your enemy know you are even there until they are all dead. You gave them a chance to get organized and counter-attack. We also have flash bang grenades so the grange breach would have been easier. There is no sportsmanship in a takedown, it is all about stealth, speed and instant death. It is sad we are killing our fellow Americans and I never thought my years of training would be used against that goal but you have to put down a rabid dog otherwise the disease spreads to the rest of the pack,” sighed Major Harrison.
“Do you need any help taking the objective?” I asked.
“No, but I would like your small group to act as a blocking force and provide a corridor and escape avenue for the civilians in the facility. I’ll send my pathfinders in to reconnoiter the objective if you can give them a hand in relieving your scout it would be appreciated since we don’t want him to be misidentified as a guard.”
“I really appreciate you and your guys being here, it takes a huge load off my shoulders and conscience.”
The Major laughed. “As Teddy Roosevelt said, “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
“Nothing ventured nothing gained?” I asked.
“It’s a little more than that. I am a military man who loves his country, that is why I serve. We serve under civilian authority. Would you rather serve under a president like George Washington who has been on the field of battle and heard shots fired in anger or one who took four deferments for the draft due to ankle bone spurs? We used to serve at the pleasure of politicians whose love of themselves was far greater than their love of country. The next generation of leaders will be real citizens, with real problems, not career politicians currently hiding in reinforced bunkers with their families ensuring such worthy goals as the “continuity of government” are met. Do you really think the population emerging from this catastrophe once the dust has settled will endorse their public leaders who hid in a bunker playing their violins while Rome burned? Our service is to the existing American people and the Constitution. One of your first actions was to hold an election and you have fought to protect those that elected you. You could have just barricaded yourself into your homestead but you didn’t. Your first thought of the day and last starts with others, how to keep them all safe and fed. There are fifty or sixty squads like mine deployed in the State either making contact with legitimate civilian leaders like you or staying hidden protecting civilians until legitimate leaders emerge. We are all oath keepers who are fortunate to follow a president and military leaders who believe in the American people and know that with the right leadership, resources and mentality, we can rebuild the nation.”
“Thank you for the words of kindness,” I replied with sorrow. “There is so much to do and so little time to get it done.”
“That’s why you make the big bucks,” the Major laughed. “I am just a trigger puller.”
“Oh, I think you are a little more than that there Aristotle,” I laughed. “And my first and last thoughts of the day are more of lust than nobility truth be told.”
“Massage and candles,” the Major laughed.
“I think Patton said that a soldier that won’t fuck won’t fight,” I laughed.
“Well you better get after that there soldier. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You too Major. It’s great to meet you and I am very glad you are here,” I said as we approached the rear patio door. I went quietly into the bedroom where my wife was reading a book by candlelight. “Care for a back rub?” I said to my wife.
“It’s like you were reading my mind,” my wife Belle said.
Things were looking up as I saw she was already naked under the covers.
CHAPTER 6
The next morning I arose to the welcome sight of a full breakfast table and the smiling faces of my extended family. It was now the second week of September, the canning needed to be finished and the rest of the wheat harvest stored safely away. The weather was getting brisk but the big rains and first frost had not yet arrived. I knew the bulk of the food growing season was behind us so our field hands would have to switch gears into managing and expanding the greenhouse, helping Adam harvest trees for fuel to trade and keeping the predator population down in the woods. I knew old man Bujacich was the key to our region’s survival. He was producing over ten thousand pounds of fish a day and had organized the geoduck farmers, small local Dungeness crab boats and even clamming crews for the local beaches. He had told us often that if we could protect the waters and get him some of the crab boats and fishermen from Seattle, he could feed the entire State of Washington. I knew food and safety were the Alpha to Omega of both our problems and solutions for the immediate future. Fossil fuel and electricity production would have to wait. After everyone had been assigned tasks for the day the Major, Sergeant and I went for a walk in the woods to get eyes on Rosedale Gardens.
“Sergeant, you take point, Robertson, you are the salami in the middle and I will take rear. Keep your heads on a swivel and stay frosty,” the Major said, looking each of us in the eye. He inspected my gear pulling all the straps on my pack and rifle tight making sure I did not make any noise while moving.
I felt like a rank amateur in the woods tagging along with the two warriors while trying to move silently. These two were like ghosts managing to walk silently while their eyes were scanning the woods in all directions looking for threats. I have some hunting experience but still managed to rustle leaves and step on any branch or twig lying on the ground, creating audible snaps; I cringed every time I accidentally stepped on one. I did see that the Sergeant ahead of me moved with more of a toe to heel motion almost feeling the ground with his toes before putting his full weight down onto his heel so I simply put my feet directly into his footprints and it cut down on the noise considerably. We arrived quietly at the observation point and I gave the existing scout the appropriate sign and he the approved countersign so he would not shoot at us. I looked down from our perch and saw that Rosedale Gardens was humming with activity. There were many civilian people working under the watchful gaze of armed guards planting, weeding, harvesting and watering the various crops inside the glass greenhouses while guards patrolled on foot outside the various buildings. The Major took out a notebook and made a quick diagram of the gardens, took the notes from our observer and left me at the observation post while he and the Sergeant quietly circumnavigated the entire operation. It was 3 PM when the Major returned without the Sergeant and gave me the nod to follow him back to our homestead. I showed the Major the sand table I had set up for the grange operation and he went to work creating a mockup of the gardens. At midnight I attended a scheduled meeting with our “military” at the 5th wheel. The three other five man teams had all made it onto my property and we did not see or hear a single one arrive. The squads were all standing around talking quietly and I gravitated to the Sergeants’ group who were standing near the fire.
“Nice barracks Gunny,” I heard one of them say to our Sergeant. “Old man Stutz put us up in an old barn at the edge of his property. He came in one night, saw us playi
ng cards, and took five bucks from the squad. We were scrambling around trying to come up with anything silver to pay him with when he told us he’d take an IOU. We figured no problem but the old bastard actually wrote out an IOU form and made us all sign it. I’m a pretty good poker player and have been supplementing my pay for years but old man Stutz cleaned our clocks. We even tried to get him a little tipsy with a jar of hooch we had but the old guy just kept sipping away, smoking his cigar and raking in our chips. Oh look, the Major is here,” as he stood up and quietly called the group to attention.
“At ease,” the Major said to the twenty warriors all decked out in full battle gear and face paint. There were two soldiers behind him hauling over the sand table. “Simple operation gentlemen and we will go get it done at 0400 this morning. We were going to liaise with the civilian militia in a joint operation but our secrecy and psychological effect will be more important in the long term. Alpha and Bravo squads will be the snipers with two man insertion teams at these five locations. Teams 1-4 are for the eight guards on station located here, here, here and here,” the Major said pointing at the sand table map. “Once the roving patrol has been taken down by team 5 then team 5 will take out any pissers. Charlie and Delta teams will breach through here behind the civilian barracks and form a skirmish line to clear any random guards. If no alarm is sounded, and there better not be any alarms sounded gentlemen, then Charlie and Delta will form up at the side entrance to the store, breach silently and clear the main store of vermin. Our intelligence indicates that the store is a single story building with only two back offices and no other doors except the front ones. There are no canine guards and you can assume anything in the main office is hostile. I want this done quick and silent. I don’t want the civilians on site to even know we were there. They are on lockdown from dusk until dawn and their latrines are inside their barracks so let’s keep them there and they will have a nice surprise waiting for them in the morning. Weapons and comms check in twenty minutes please gentlemen.”
America- The Eagle has Fallen Page 11