by Mark Goodwin
“Yeah, but without a way to charge your phone, you wouldn’t for long.” Ava held Foley’s strong hands with her own.
“Most people have a phone charger for their cars.” Betty picked up the eggs and pancake mix.
Ava broke free from the warmth of Foley’s arms to help Betty carry some pans to the deck. “Still, it’s a hassle. If people have to worry about not having electricity, they’ll be too consumed with coming up with workarounds to bother pushing back against the regime.”
Foley also assisted with packing the supplies out to the grill. “I’ll have to hand it to Markovich, it was a good tactic. But it makes me wonder, what will be the next shoe to drop.”
James and Charity joined Ava and the others for breakfast at the Hodges’ big dining room table. Foley prayed to bless the meal then everyone began eating.
Ava asked, “Dad, did you find any more information related to the power outage?”
He nodded as he spooned a healthy portion of scrambled eggs onto his plate. “It’s widespread. Just as we suspected, the cities are largely unaffected; even out into the suburbs. While most every small town and the majority of rural areas in Texas are blacked out.
“But I found some information that is even more interesting than that.” He forked three pancakes onto his plate and passed the platter to Ava.
“Oh?” Sam Hodge cut into a thick slice of country ham on his plate.
“Woods or Markovich, depending on how you want to look at it, has purged all top-level generals who have been less than exuberant about their support for Markovich.” Ulysses took a bite of his pancakes.
“That’s not surprising. We haven’t heard anything about it on the news.” Foley handed the syrup to James, who still looked drowsy.
Ulysses finished chewing. “Another event you won’t hear about on the news is that the regime sent two battalions of Marines from Camp Pendleton to secure the Dugway Army Base in Utah.”
“Really? I’ve never even heard of that base. I figured if Markovich was going to risk firing the first shot he would’ve invaded Minot, North Dakota. That’s where all nukes are; at least the ones in the Alliance States.” Ava cut another bite of pancakes.
Ulysses elaborated, “Dugway is the chemical and biological weapons storage and research facility. Other than small precision tactical nukes, neither side would consider using nuclear weapons. When your enemy is as geographically integrated as the Markovich regime and the Alliance States, mutually assured destruction takes on a whole new meaning.
“I expect we’ll see a very intense war between the states. We’ll witness conventional and asymmetric aspects, but I don’t think it will go nuclear.”
“What happened with the Marines? At Dugway?” Sam inquired.
“Oh, they secured the base alright.” Ulysses smirked as he cut his pancakes. “Right after they defected and pledged support to Blackwell and the Alliance States.”
The table erupted into cheers and applause.
Ulysses waited for the noise to settle. “A similar incident occurred yesterday that didn’t make the news; at least not the news we’re fed. Woods sent one of his new generals to Boise on Air Force Two. I guess he was going to attempt to intimidate Blackwell, which will never happen. Eight F-35s flew alongside as an escort. All the pilots and Marines working as the general’s security detail defected. The general is being held, and supposedly Blackwell is offering to exchange him for President Ross.”
“That’s awesome!” Ava exclaimed. “What’s the name of that darknet message board where you’re getting all of this information?”
Ulysses hesitated before answering, as if he were considering how much trouble Ava could get in, should he reveal his source. “It’s called Black Ops, but you’re not getting my login credentials.”
“That’s fair,” Ava said sheepishly.
Foley sipped his coffee. “Eight F-35s. At a hundred million each, that adds up quickly.”
Ulysses grinned. “I doubt Markovich will be sending additional highly-trained service personnel into the Alliance States. He’s afraid of losing what’s left of his grip on the US military.”
“So, he’s taking it out on us, by turning our lights out.” Charity shook her head. “How childish.”
After breakfast, Ava helped Sam feed the animals. “You caught another hog last night?”
Sam poured the slop over the fence into a bucket he’d cut down the center to make a homemade trough. “Yep, a boar. He’ll round out the collection very nicely. But now we’ve got three pigs to feed. We’ll have to get some more winter vegetables going so we have enough left over to keep them fed.” Sam pointed at one of the rows in the garden. “That’s all sweet potatoes. The little ones are a hassle to peel. We can give those to the hogs. They get the pea pods, and we’ll never eat all of that cabbage. Still, I don’t want to be cutting it close. Once those sows get pregnant, they’ll eat a lot more.”
“We’re blessed to be in Texas. Could you imagine how difficult it would be to grow food for animals up north if you hadn’t planned on it?” Ava watched the hogs devour the small pail of scraps.
“It would be rough. Come on, let’s scrounge up some greens for the rabbits and chickens.” Sam led the way.
“Ava,” Foley called out.
She turned around quickly to see him jogging toward her. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, but I think we just figured out what Markovich is up to.”
“What’s up?”
“I just heard it over the radio. He’s sending Woods to NRG Stadium.”
“Sending the president to Houston at the onset of a full-blown civil war?” Sam held his empty pail behind his back. “Markovich has to know he’ll be a target for the more militant elements of Right Now. No other state in the union is as evenly divided as Texas.”
Ava contested the claim. “Maybe Washington State, but they’re not living next door to one another. The liberals are on the coast and the patriots backing the Alliance States are all inland.”
Foley said, “If Woods is shot in Houston, he’ll be a martyr. And it won’t be any skin off of Markovich’s back. But I think you’re right, Sam. He’ll be a target.”
“Any idea why he’d agree to this?” Ava inquired.
“You mean besides being Markovich’s puppet? People in Ulysses’ message board are claiming it’s going to be a giant recruitment rally to persuade Antifa and the gangs to join the military. The regime wants fresh blood amongst the ranks. They need people that they don’t have to worry about defecting or going AWOL. It’s kind of embarrassing when you invade a hostile territory and half of your troops walk off the battlefield. Markovich needs people who are loyal to the revolution.”
Ava sighed. “We can’t let that happen. We have to think up a way to throw a wrench in the plan.”
“Ignorance is bliss they always say. Since I’m not going to be involved, the less I know the better. I’ll leave the two of you to your scheming.” Sam waved and took his pail to the garden.
Foley watched quietly until Sam Hodge was out of earshot. “The rally is this Sunday. We’ll have to put our mission to capture Chip on hold.”
“He’s not going anywhere. Any ideas on how to disrupt Woods’ call to arms?”
“No. Secret Service will be all over the place. Whatever we do, it will have to be a peripheral attack, something outside of the actual event. But Secret Service will already be skittish about the whole thing. The least little disturbance will trigger their evacuation protocols and they’ll get Woods out of the city, making the rally a non-event.” Foley turned to go back toward the house. “Let’s go talk it over with your dad.”
Ava looked at the garden. “I told Sam I’d help him with feeding the animals. Tell Dad I’ll be there in a little while.” She kissed him on the lips and returned to her task.
CHAPTER 20
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, a
nd a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
Ava took a seat next to Foley at the small dining table inside her father’s travel trailer. “What did I miss?”
Ulysses turned his laptop sideways and pushed the back of it against the window of the trailer. He pointed to the map of the area around the stadium. “We have limited options. NRG Stadium, itself, is fairly isolated. It’s completely surrounded by parking lots or other buildings in the complex. The old Astrodome sits directly across from it. No doubt, it will be crawling with security, so it’s out as a place from which to launch an attack. Same thing with the convention center.
“Anything we do is going to be small potatoes, so we’ll have to execute a multi-pronged assault. Multiple minor strikes could add up to a lot of confusion amongst the security coordinators and still accomplish the objective we’re hoping to achieve.
“I expect to see protestors and supporters demonstrating on the greenways at all four corners of the stadium. This strip mall is about a quarter mile to the north. We could possibly initiate an attack via drone from the parking lot.”
“How would you attack with a drone?” Ava inspected the map.
“We could attach a brick of plastic explosives and set it down right on top of the stadium. I checked the forecast for Sunday, sunny and low sixties, but I still expect they’ll have the roof closed for Woods’ visit. If not, then we can drop the charge right inside. Either way, an explosion anywhere near the stadium will warrant an evacuation of the president, and that will be the end of the rally.”
“So that’s all we need to do.” Ava looked up at her father.
Ulysses shook his head. “No. Too small. We need to cause a grand commotion. Something too big for the mockingbird media to sweep under the rug.”
“What else do you propose?” Foley asked.
Ulysses pointed at a hotel on the map. “This place is half a mile to the south. It’s nine stories tall, so a sniper on the roof could cause some real trouble with a decent scope. If you had Markovich supporters demonstrating on the southeast or the southwest corner, they would provide a target- rich environment for the shooter.”
Foley nodded.
“Wait a minute!” Ava objected. “Are you guys serious? You’re talking about shooting into a crowd of demonstrators.” She turned to Foley. “And you’re okay with this?”
“Ava.” Ulysses reached across the table to take her hand, but she pulled away. “This is war. You chose this path—for all three of us.” Ulysses glanced at Foley. “Or at least for yourself and for me. Though I expect Foley has seen his share of bloodshed and could have been persuaded to lend support from the background; or at least had the good sense to fight from behind friendly lines.
“But remember, these are the same people who tried to kill you when you went to vote back in November. If I hadn’t been there, I doubt you’d be breathing today.
“Beating down anyone in Texas or Florida who dared to vote for Ross is how they stole the election from the American people. We’re not talking about shooting a random bunch of innocent people with political leanings different from our own. These are treasonous traitors, violent people, who will stop at nothing to wrestle America away from its rightful heirs and bring about a communist revolution.
“These are the soldiers Markovich hopes to recruit into his new military guard; these are the fighters who will be invading the Alliance States in the months to come. If we don’t kill them now, we will have to fight them later.”
She listened to her father’s reasoning, but she couldn’t make it right in her head. “No. We’re sneaking up on people. You told me not to sacrifice my humanity, that winning the war doesn’t matter if I lose who I am.”
A knock came to the door then it swung open. “Hey, guys. What’s up?” Charity stepped up into the trailer.
Ulysses answered, “We’re having a discussion. Ava told me that you aren’t sure about being involved in future actions.”
Charity glanced down at the toes of her tennis shoes. “Um, I don’t know. When are you planning to go back out?”
“This weekend,” said Foley.
Charity looked at Ava with concern. “So soon? James hasn’t even healed up. He’s in no shape for another mission.”
Ulysses nodded. “No problem at all. Why don’t the two of you sit this one out; help Sam and Betty hold down the fort. Take your time, let James get better, and you figure out if you’re up for another mission. This war isn’t going to be over anytime soon. You’ll have plenty of opportunities.”
“Are you sure?” Charity toyed with the zipper of her jacket.
“I’m positive.” Ulysses gave an affirming nod.
“Thanks.” A look of relief came over Charity’s face.
Ulysses stared at her standing in the doorway for a few moments then said, “But if you’re not coming, it’s better for everybody if you don’t know the details of the mission.”
“Oh! Right. Sorry. I’ll see you guys later.” Charity blushed as she let herself out the door.
“Back to you, young lady.” Ulysses faced Ava.
“You make it sound like I’m in trouble.”
“Not at all, but you have a decision to make.” Ulysses folded his hands on the table. “Either you are willing to fight, to do whatever you have to do to win, or you need to find another role in the conflict. My initial offer is still open. It always will be; at least as long as we’re still alive.”
Ava felt conflicted. “When do I need to decide?”
“We have three days to plan an operation that should take weeks to work out. Let me know before supper.” Ulysses closed the laptop. “I’d be more than content to pack up and go to Oklahoma. We can join up with the militia there and fight Markovich when he crosses into Alliance territory. But you can’t wear kid-gloves when you’re fighting an insurgency battle. By definition, it’s brutal. Insurgent tactics are the only way an inferior force can take a stand against a stronger enemy.”
Ava looked at Foley hoping he would provide her with the words of wisdom she needed to make this decision. But she knew he could not. This answer had to come from inside. “I think I need some time alone. I’m going to get my pole and see if I can pull in some fish for dinner.”
Ava watched the bobber float with the gentle current of the river, hoping nothing would take the bait. Ava spoke aloud, half to herself to hear her own thoughts, and half to her Creator, hoping for a divine solution to her internal quandary. “Foley and Dad have been tried and tested in the fires of war. They’ve seen unimaginable savagery committed by human beings against one another.
“They became battle-hardened by fighting people who don’t talk like us, dress like us, or have anything in common with our culture. I suppose that shouldn’t make any difference, but somehow, it seems harder to kill someone who eats at the same restaurants you eat at and watches the same TV shows as you.”
She huffed. “I don’t know. I didn’t feel right bombing those collection points. I don’t feel right about this. But I don’t think I can live with myself if I sit back and let Markovich and his minions take away our freedoms unopposed. Communism always ends with religious persecution. This is about so much more than politics or economics; it’s about being free to worship God. But who will I become if I have to act like a murderous brute or a homicidal fiend in order to preserve that freedom?”
Ava looked up at the clouds above, wanting to see a sign that God was listening, that He had an answer. She let her gaze drop back down at the bobber
, which was perilously close to getting caught in the grass on the bank of the river.
She considered letting it be, but at the last minute, she stood up from the bench and began fervently reeling it in and away from the inevitable weedy trap of complacency. “I guess inaction can be even more detrimental to my humanity than what I might consider ruthless action.” The bobber skipped away from the hazard of being trapped by the weeds. “And I suppose I have my answer.”
CHAPTER 21
The horse is prepared against the day of battle: but safety is of the Lord.
Proverbs 21:31
Friday morning, Ava looked in the bathroom mirror and cut the first strand of hair. “Oh, this is going to be harder than I thought. Besides, if I do it myself, it’s going to look like I did it myself.” She placed the scissors on the sink next to the black hair dye and went to look for Charity.
Not seeing her anywhere in the house, she crossed the yard to the garage. Ava opened the side door and climbed the stairs to the FROG.
Charity sat up on the bed by the window and brushed her hair with her fingers. James blushed. He’d obviously not been guarding the driveway with his full attention.
“What’s up?” Charity scooted a few feet away from her husband.
Ava looked at the two of them. “Sorry, I should have knocked.”
“We were just . . . talking.” Charity smiled.
Ava lifted her eyebrows. “Sure. When you’re finished . . . talking, I need some help with my hair.”
“Why? What’s wrong with your hair?” Charity asked.
Ava rolled her eyes. “It looks just like the hair of that terrorist chick that the news is blaming all those bombings on. I wouldn’t want anyone to confuse me with her.”
“Oh, totally.” Charity stood up. “I can help you. We weren’t talking about anything important.”
“Thanks.” Ava paused before going down the stairs to look at James. “This won’t take long. You two can get right back to your . . . conversation.”