Patriots United

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Patriots United Page 5

by Robert Boren


  “You hear that?” Robbie asked, eyes on his laptop screen.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Keep working. I’ll get you a cup of coffee and a granola bar.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  ***

  Clem was up early, looking out the window of his Dodge City Hotel room. The western street below was waking up. A horse-drawn wagon rolled by, carrying feed in the back, the driver seeing him and waving. His mind was on the surveillance task he’d be working later, when the others were up. There was a knock on the door. He answered it. Sarah stood before him.

  “Oh, good, you’re up,” she said. “Heard you’d be going into town to get some electronics. Want some company for that?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Come on in.”

  She shot him a funny glance, and he laughed.

  “What?”

  “You looked nervous about being in my room. Sorry, Sarah, but that ship sailed quite a while ago. I just need to put my shoes on, and then we can get some breakfast. I smell coffee coming from downstairs.”

  “Oh,” she said, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t mean anything, really.”

  “I know. Just a sec.” He sat on a chair by the bed and pulled on his walking shoes, lacing them slowly, his hands not moving as fast as they used to. “You staying here too?”

  “I’m in the boarding house with Garrett’s sister and a few others. She’s a riot.”

  “Susanne. Fine woman. I’ll bet she runs Garrett ragged.”

  “Well, Elmer at least,” she said. “Her on again, off again boyfriend.”

  “I heard the on and off cycle is about every four hours.”

  Both chuckled as Clem stood. “My back is gonna be killing me tonight.”

  They went down the stairs. There was a continental breakfast laid out, with coffee in a large canister pot, and a sign saying Help Yourselves.

  “Well isn’t this nice?” Sarah asked.

  “This breakfast is more John’s style than mine,” Clem said, wishing he could take it back when he saw the sadness in Sarah’s eyes. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I do miss him so.”

  “Me too,” Clem said. “Knew him for over forty years.”

  “I was married to him for thirty-five,” she said. “I thought you were scary at first.”

  “Me? I’m a pussycat. Always have been.”

  “I know that now, but you were older, and a little stern.”

  He smiled as he drew himself a cup of coffee from the canister, taking a tentative sip. “It’s pretty good.”

  They sat at one of the round tables near the wall. Elmer walked in, smiling when he saw the spread. “Good, I was hoping that’d be here.”

  “Where’s Susanne?” Sarah asked. “Oh, and good morning.”

  “Good morning to you,” he said as he got coffee. “Susanne’s a working fool. She’s down in the mine already, pushing the ammo loading team.”

  “You don’t work with her on that operation?” Clem asked.

  “Oh, hell no,” he said. “You think I’d let her boss me around like that? I only allow that if it’s in my interest.” He shot Clem a wicked glance. Sarah cleared her throat.

  “What’s your job here?” Clem asked.

  “Contractor,” he said. “Built a lot of the town with a crew of folks. Helped them get up to code, too, after the first debacle.”

  “Oh, you didn’t build the stuff that was torn down?” Clem asked.

  He chuckled. “Nah, that was before I joined the group. They tried to build this place like a barn-raising. That’s okay for a barn, but if you’ve got people living in it, the state cares very much about how the construction is done.”

  “I’d be surprised if the state would cut you slack on a barn anymore, actually,” Clem said.

  Elmer stuffed the last of a Danish into his mouth, chewing it quick so he could respond.

  “Take your time,” Clem said, catching a smirk from Sarah.

  “Sorry,” Elmer said. “Kinda looks like I was raised in a barn, I reckon.”

  They all laughed.

  “But you’re right,” Elmer continued. “The damn state has rules for anything you build now. Even the stuff that really don’t matter. Sick to death of it, but I know how to work the system to get things done. They hired me to help, and I kinda fell in love with the place.”

  Susanne came stomping into the lobby. “Where’s that old goat Willard?”

  “What’s the matter, honey bun?” Elmer asked.

  “That’s for the guests,” she said, eyeing the Danish in his hand.

  Elmer smiled at her and took a bite. She growled at him.

  “What do you want Willard for?” he asked.

  “Those damn lights that he strung up in the mine shaft quit working,” she said. “I need them on. We’ve got a quota to make.”

  “Okay, I’ll grab Willard and drag him down there. He needs to know how to do that right. I’ll show him, okay?”

  She looked at him for a second. “Why was he doing it instead of you, anyway?”

  “I was busy working something for Garrett, remember?”

  She thought for a moment. “Oh, hell, I don’t remember what you’re talking about. No matter. Grab him and get down there pronto. Oh, and if you find more booze down there, tell me about it this time.” She left in a huff.

  “She’s always going full speed, isn’t she?” Clem asked.

  “Brother, you don’t know the half of it.” Elmer washed down the second Danish with coffee and left, tipping his hat.

  “Wow,” Sarah said, shaking her head.

  “I kinda like it here,” he said. “Call me crazy. Wonder how you become a permanent resident?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “It’s not like we can go back to the RV Park in Dulzura,” he said, sadness in his eyes. “I miss Harry and Nancy.”

  “And Connie and Hank too,” Sarah said, eyes tearing up. “And my John.”

  “Let’s change the subject or I’ll be blubbering like an old fool.”

  “You aren’t an old fool,” she said.

  Sid came in with Yvonne. “Oh, there you guys are. Meeting in five minutes.”

  “With who?”

  “Ji-Ho is calling it, and they’re setting up the audio-visual stuff. I think they might need your help, Clem.”

  “Okay, done with breakfast anyway,” he said. “Where?”

  “Saloon,” Sid said.

  “Good, about time for a beer.”

  “Now you’re talking,” Sid said, both women rolling their eyes. They all left, walking down the wooden sidewalk to the saloon, which was already full with people arriving for the meeting.

  “Somebody open windows,” Ji-Ho said, “so overflow crowd can listen.” He was up front next to the TV. “Oh, Clem, good, come help please.”

  Clem nodded, making his way through the crowd.

  “Hi, Auntie Sarah,” Mia said, rushing over to her.

  “Well hi yourself, sweetie,” Sarah said, stroking her hair as she watched people coming in.

  “Is this gonna be scary?”

  “If it is, I can take you for a walk to see the horses,” Sarah said.

  “That would be fun,” Mia said.

  “She’s not bothering you, I hope?” Erica asked, walking up with Sam.

  “No, of course not. I told her if the discussion got too scary I’d take her to see the horses.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Erica said.

  “I wouldn’t mind a bit.”

  “Wish this place was bigger,” Sam said.

  “It’ll be good enough,” Garrett said, coming from the back of the saloon with Anna and Willard. “I’ll make sure all my men get the word. Most of them are out on patrol, and that’s where we need them.”

  “It ready,” Ji-Ho said. “I’ll send text to Ivan.”

  People found places to sit, lean, or just stand as the TV came on, Clem coming out from behind the screen with a laptop on a long HDMI
cable. He set it on a bar stool facing the crowd, open so the camera could pick up at least half of the people in the saloon.

  Ivan walked onto the frame, wearing his pin-striped suit and fedora, sitting to face the camera. “Hello, all. Can you hear me?”

  “Yep,” Clem said. “Should I patch in Ben Dover now?”

  “Yes, please,” Ivan said. Clem typed on the laptop, moving his finger on the touch pad a couple times, and then the screen split into two, with Ben Dover on the right pane and Ivan on the left. Ben’s hair looked like he just got up, and he was wearing a t-shirt with a stretched neck.

  “You hear me?” Ben asked.

  “We do,” Ji-Ho said.

  “Yep, I can hear both of you,” Ivan said.

  Ji-Ho smiled. “Okay, we set. Go ahead.”

  “Hello, all, thanks for your attention,” Ivan said. “Ben has been working recruitment for your area. In the process, him and his team came to some conclusions, and they convinced me to act on what they were telling me. Ben, please tell the team what you see.”

  “Have any of you seen the buildup of enemy forces through the port at Mazatlán?” Ben asked.

  “I have,” Seth said. “It’s got me worried.”

  “It should,” Ben said. “Last time I checked, they were up to about five hundred thousand fighters.”

  “There’s more off-shore,” Seth said. “Another two hundred thousand at least.”

  A gasp went up in the room.

  “We can’t take on that many fighters,” Susanne said. “I’m having a hard time keeping ammo production high enough for the current scale of battle.”

  “So we have to stop up I-8 and the other routes across the border,” Angel said.

  “That won’t be enough,” Ed said, his face grave. “With those kinds of numbers, they can march over the border on foot, kill everybody around, and choose the northbound route they want to take.”

  “He’s exactly right,” Ben said. “We’ll have to recruit our way out of this, and we’ll need coordination when the volunteers arrive, plus a place for them to stay until the battle, and a method for them to get to the battle.”

  “How can we recruit that many people?” Kaitlyn asked.

  “We have to recruit from all the counties in Southern California,” Ivan said. “Especially LA and Orange counties. That’s where the numbers are.”

  “What about western San Diego county?” Sam asked. “That’s not as large as LA county, but it’s larger than Orange county and closer, too.”

  “We’re trying to contact the US Navy to make that happen,” Ivan said. “It’s difficult.”

  “I know some people,” Sam said. “I can work that with you.”

  “That would be very much appreciated,” Ivan said.

  “What are we gonna do?” Trevor asked. “How can we help?”

  “Here’s my proposal,” Ivan said. “We go after all the recruitment we can, including western San Diego county if we can get agreement with the US Navy. We use your Dodge City as a staging area. Is it large enough for the number of people we’re talking about?”

  “And then some, if you’re just talking land,” Garrett said. “Food and shelter will be something else again.”

  “We’ll work that,” Ivan said. “Tents and food as well as military weapons to arm people, so they don’t have to go against such a huge force with hunting rifles.”

  “I pledge whatever help we can provide,” Garrett said. “Anybody object?”

  “Hell no,” Willard shouted.

  “I’m for it of course,” Elmer said.

  “Me too,” shouted somebody else.

  “What about more battle wagon and off-roader?” Ji-Ho asked. “Still come?”

  “Those have been on the way for a couple days,” Ivan said. “They’ll be there soon. We also sent military small arms and ammo–enough to outfit a force of a thousand men. We’ll obviously have to expand this quite a bit for the new recruits.”

  “Where are you getting all this stuff?” Trevor asked. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

  Ivan chuckled. “Some of the weapons will be AK-47s and other European weapons, by the way. When we kicked those cretins out of the Bay Area and Sacramento, we captured a lot of military hardware.”

  “No problem here,” Sam said. “AKs jam less often than M16s.”

  “You have more to say, Ben?” Ivan asked.

  “Yeah,” Ben said. “Don’t destroy roads down there. You’ll need them to access the enemy.”

  “Roger that,” Sid said.

  “Okay, anything else before I go work this?” Ivan asked.

  “Good luck, and let us know if you need help from us,” Sam said.

  “Yes, we at your service,” Ji-Ho said.

  Ivan smiled. “I know, guys. It’s an honor to serve with you. Talk to you soon.” With that he and Ben Dover left the screen.

  “Wow,” Seth said to Trevor. “This is gonna be insane.”

  “Seriously, dude,” Trevor said, Angel nodding in agreement.

  Clem finished unhooking the audio-visual stuff. Sarah walked over. “You still doing the surveillance task today?”

  “Yep,” he said. “More important than ever, in my estimation. This is about to become ground central for the California Resistance.”

  “I think we’d better nix that idea of putting land mines out,” Sid said. Yvonne laughed. “You got that right, brother,” Clem said.

  {5}

  Towle Bridges

  M organ was driving the battle wagon, climbing into the Sierra foothills on I-80, the generator purring softly to keep a good charge on Robbie’s laptop. They’d been on the road for just over an hour. Robbie was sitting in the passenger seat, computer on his lap.

  “Bingo!” he said. “I think I finally found a good place.”

  “How far?” Morgan asked.

  “Twenty minutes, assuming we can keep this speed. Towle, Alta and Baxter.”

  “That’s three places,” she said.

  “We’ll need to blow a bridge at Towle, and have a couple battle wagons at an off-ramp at Crystal Springs Road, and another couple at Baxter road.”

  “Oh,” she said, glancing at him for a moment. “Sounds complicated.”

  “I wish we had another three or four battle wagons, but in this situation the off-roaders might be better anyway. I need to get Jules on the phone. You can shut down the generator now. This thing has enough charge for the rest of the operation.”

  “Okay,” Morgan said, reaching to shut it off. Robbie pulled out his cellphone and hit Jules’s contact, then put it on speaker.

  “Robbie, what got for me?” Jules asked. “Sparky in coach too.”

  “Hey, Robbie,” Sparky said.

  “Hi, guys. I found a good place, but it’s gonna require that we handle three locations.”

  “Uh oh,” Sparky said.

  “No, I expect,” Jules said. “Where, kid?”

  “We blow a bridge at Towle. It’s in a place they can’t get around, unless they’re before the off-ramps at Crystal Springs Road or Baxter Road.”

  “I get,” Jules said. “This be long caravan. We stop detour. I like.”

  “Doesn’t that cut us a little thin?” Sparky asked. “We only have six battle wagons.”

  “We’ve got all the off-roaders,” Robbie said. “In this terrain, they’re probably better than having a bunch more battle wagons. We can roll down the side roads, blasting all their vehicles with the M19s from behind a fair amount of cover.”

  “Yes,” Jules said. “How long?”

  “We’ll be there in about twenty minutes,” Robbie said.

  “Pretty good plan, Robbie,” Sparky said. “Those three locations stretch out a little under two miles, according to my GPS app. It’s doable.”

  “What about this off-ramp at Kearsarge Mill Road?” Dana asked.

  “Look at where that leads,” Robbie said. “If you get off there, the alternate from the right side of I-80 just dumps you back
onto westbound I-80 or back towards the east, and if you go under the interstate and try to take the roads on the left side, they all dead-end except one.”

  “What about the one?” Jules asked.

  Sparky laughed. “I see what he’s saying. That route leads you over some pretty dicey roads for big vehicles, and when it dumps back to I-80, they’ll be blocked by the fallen bridge at Towle. Genius, kid.”

  “Okay, relay info to the rest of team,” Jules said. “We’ll notify demolition team. We blow bridge as soon as we get to Towle. Where enemy?”

  “Just about to Imlay, Nevada,” Dana said.

  “When do they get to Towle?” Jules asked.

  “Over three hours,” Dana said. “We’ll have two and a half hours to blow the bridge and get set up at the other off-ramps. It’ll be tight, but not too tight.”

  “Perfect,” Jules said. “Thanks, Robbie. We spread word.”

  The call ended. Morgan looked over at him. “Nice job, honey.”

  “Thanks,” Robbie said. “Hope nothing goes wrong.”

  They drove the next fifteen minutes with very little conversation, Robbie watching the high-res app. The enemy continued their relentless drive west, but their speed didn’t increase.

  “You’re getting nervous,” Morgan said, glancing at him.

  “Just trying to broaden my thinking,” he said. “The enemy force is still stretched out a long way.”

  “You’re worried that when the first group gets to the ruined bridge in Towle, there will be forces far enough back to turn around before they get stuck.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “We have geography in our favor, though. There’s a place they can turn around before Kearsarge Mill Road. It’s called Whitmore Road, but they can’t continue west from there. All they can do is switch over to the eastbound I-80.”

  “How far back is that?”

  Robbie looked at his computer screen for a moment. “About six miles.”

  “And how far spread out are the enemy right now?”

  “More like ten miles,” Robbie said. “It’s better than it was, though. Before it was about fifty miles, so they are tightening up.”

  “Maybe we should send another team east to bottle up Whitmore Road, then,” Morgan said. “To keep them from escaping. Doesn’t have to be something permanent. Just enough to hold them there while we destroy them.”

 

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