by T W Powell
Delvin made it three, “So my platoon had regrouped after the Kamikaze dispersed that CVX attack. We were moving north again through a wooded area in the middle of the line. We came upon a blood trail leading into an abandoned farmhouse. We went inside and found a woman lying in the middle of the floor. A ChiCom bullet had passed cleanly through her calf and she had been exposed to CVX. She was a Huey medivac pilot. She had made multiple runs that day and her number finally came up, but she didn’t give up. I looked down at her and she opened her eyes and called me Slick.”
Tom looked into Delvin’s eyes, “That’s where the nickname comes from?”
“Yes, its’ stuck with me to this very day, thanks to Josephine.”
Tom added, yeah, Jo, she was my crazy Huey pilot.
Junior made three, “My Resistance contact was named Jo.”
All three men smiled, then Delvin proposed a toast, “To Jo, the baddest Marine ever. May we always be on her good side.”
Junior added, “I didn’t know she had a good side.”
The Audit
While Delvin made his way to Austin, a few Peoples’ Militia and a Chinese Auditor appeared at the Emeryville Operations Center. Dr. Pham’s respect for Delvin’s expertise was once again justified. Everyone was prepared.
The Auditor supervised as Peoples’ Militia counted every ampoule, green and red. The Auditor reviewed all the medical logs and protocols. About halfway through the audit a senior Chinese State Security official visited the Center and interviewed Dr. Ho, Dr. Yen, and Member Nurse Beth. The favorite interrogation tactics of CSS included asking the same question to each of the interviewees and then comparing their answers and asking the same question to the same interviewee several times in a slightly different manner each time. Thanks to Delvin’s tutoring, the Pham Team was ready and passed the interviews with flying colors.
After the audit was concluded, the Auditor and the CSS agent met in private for about a half hour. They then invited Dr. Pham to join them to review their findings.
The Auditor opened the review, “Dr. Pham, our audit confirms that you have established excellent protocols and controls. Everything is well documented. There are no irregularities.”
The CSS agent continued, “I concur with Member Auditor, there appear to be no security risks. You have a very slick operation.”
Dr Pham dryly replied, “I couldn’t describe it any better myself Comrade. We do have a slick operation.”
Take-Out Breakfast
Tom was keeping third watch in the hallway of the Pony Express Motel. At dawn, a familiar figure came around the corner carrying quite a load. Miss Stormy had brought breakfast.
Tom banged on both bunk house room doors loud enough to wake the dead, “Rise and shine Marines! Get decent cause we have a lady visitor.”
Within minutes, the entire crew was dressed and in the hallway.
Miss Stormy handed each man a take-out breakfast of sausage, bacon, milk gravy, eggs and biscuits.
She also gave each man a kiss on the cheek, “I thought this was the least I could do seeing as I may never see some of you men again, at least not in this world.”
She handed Darius a gallon of freshly squeezed orange juice and fought to hold back the tears.
She turned and disappeared around the hallway corner without another word, except her final goodbye that echoed down the hallway, “Sempre Fi, you widow makers and heart breakers!”
The Marines replied, “Oorah!” Then began devouring their breakfast. Junior was partial to the orange juice.
As Delvin left the Pony Express and climbed into his truck, he verified that both Tom and Junior understood the game plan, “OK, let’s go over this again. In a few days a small convoy will head down to Round Mountain. This truck will be in that convoy along with a vehicle occupied by the medical team comprised of two Vietnamese American doctors, their young daughter, and a White nurse. I expect an unknown number of Peoples’ Militia to accompany the convoy and perhaps some Chinese State Security. There may even be some air cover.”
Tom interrupted, “If we get caught out on that highway, in the wide-open valley floor, in broad daylight, by a damned Warthog, we’re toast. If we encounter an Apache, maybe we can at least scare him off with a Type 91, but a Warthog with Maverick missiles, titanium armor, and counter measures, there ain’t no way.”
Delvin continued, “Let’s assume the air threat is neutralized. You will allow the convoy uncontested access to Round Mountain. In fact, there should be absolutely no attacks on any traffic on NV 376 until further notice. When this truck departs Round Mountain and heads back north on NV 376, you will interdict the convoy, confiscate any cargo, take the medical team into protective custody, and eliminate any Peoples’ Militia or Chinese nationals.
Junior and Tom were shocked, “Eliminate? What happens if they surrender?”
“You must trust me on this. It’s the only way. They must be eliminated. You will then inflict a non-life-threatening wound upon yours truly and run like hell. I don’t even want to know where you’re going to stash the Medical Team.
“I suggest you simultaneously cut NV 376 both north and south of the ambush site just long enough to delay the arrival of any Collective reinforcements.
“Now I’ve got to hit the road, I’ve got things to do.”
Junior chuckled as the Jackson gang mounted up, “Delvin, now you sound like Jo, Sempre Fi!”
Things to Do
Delvin did have a lot to do. With the current road conditions, it took a couple of hours to drive from Austin to Fallon. As Delvin approached Fallon on Peoples’ Highway 50, off to the right was one of the few well-maintained park facilities in Nevada.
The Grimes Point Archaeological Site had gained a quasi-religious status as it chronicled the history of early Paleo-Indians who settled northwestern Nevada. The parking lot was full of school busses as Academies across the region regularly sent their students on pilgrimage to honor Indigenous Peoples.
Delvin parked his truck at Salt Wells, a couple of miles east of Grimes Point. He popped his hood, feigning a mechanical problem, then bicycled his way to the site. He blended in with the academicians, teachers, tourists, and students and made his way to the top of the small hill that looked out over Fallon. The hill was only a couple of miles from the old Fallon Naval Air Station, former home of Top Gun.
Delvin nonchalantly focused his binoculars on the 14,000 ft. runway. There they were, sitting on the tarmac, four A-10 Thunderbolt IIs, once affectionately known as Warthogs, and two Apache helicopter gunships. Delvin smiled as he played tourist, taking photos of the museum exhibits and picking up educational materials. He then pedaled his way back to his truck at Lance Armstrong speed.
Delvin figured that he would make better time once he hit I-80 at Fernley, NV. He should make his next stop in a little under 4 hours.
Meanwhile, the Jackson gang made its’ way downhill from Austin to the junction of US 50 and NV 376.
Tom warned his men, “Let’s stay up on the fan and away from the highway. I know we could make better time down here along the highway, but it’s safer up closer to the mountains.”
As they slowly made their way along the rocky trail, Tom began thinking out loud, “You know Junior, I’m not one to shy away from a fight, but I like to fight smart, not stupid.”
Junior was thinking things over too, “Yep, Apaches are bad enough, but Warthogs are too much. Don’t you believe all that Rambro crap, I’m in no hurry to die.
“Those Type 91 heat seekers can help with the Apaches, but those damned Hogs can stand off and hit us with Mavericks, or they can shred us with their 30 mm gatling gun. That’s 3900 rounds per minute. Sweet Jesus!”
Junior continued, “That’s 6 times an Apache’s rate of fire.”
“And that Hog is much faster than an Apache and can fly much higher. Our window of engagement against a Hog is much smaller. Even if you manage to engage, he can always deploy those decoy flares. He might even have laser count
ermeasures. Then, if you score a hit, he’s got titanium armor and redundant flight controls.” Tom was visibly concerned.
Junior laid it all on the line, “Once we find those Hogs, somebody’s got to take them out on the ground. The crazy son-of-a-bitch who does that might just take away Jo’s ‘Baddest Marine’ title.”
Tom dryly asked, “You got someone in mind?”
The Black Patriot
As the Jackson gang approached Kingston, the Voice of America shortwave service was interrupted by the soulful voice of the late, great Ben E King,
“When the night has come
And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we'll see
No I won't be afraid
Oh, I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand, stand by me…”
The Black Patriot was on the air. The Black Patriot was the most
popular recurring segment on Voice of America’s shortwave service. Each segment never ran over 10 minutes and there was no set schedule. There could be a couple of installments today, then maybe none for over a week. But one thing was certain, when Stand by Me cued in, millions of Americans dropped whatever they were doing and secretly huddled around their shortwave radios. Each new segment would be rebroadcast at least once every hour until a new segment premiered.
“Good day America! This is The Black Patriot coming to you today from Motown.
“Before I get into today’s segment, I have a message for a very special friend. Cowboy Tom, tell Junior to slaughter a half dozen hogs. I repeat, tell Junior to slaughter a half dozen hogs.
“Now, I’ll keep this short and sweet, so my Collective friends don’t have time to triangulate my position. I have just returned from an undisclosed location somewhere in the Great American West. I had the honor of sharing a few drinks with “The Man” himself, Lance Corporal Darius Johnson, also known as RAMBRO.
“Darius shared a tale of personal courage that should inspire each and every Patriot. Darius was en route to a new assignment when he met up with a skinny young White kid from Georgia. Darius just refers to him as ‘The Skipper’. As they hiked through the barren desert, they were confronted by three Peoples’ Militia. While Darius was looking for an opening to take out the Militia leader, a 7-foot Militiaman covered in body armor and armed with an AK47 drew a bead on Darius intent upon ending the RAMBRO legend once and for all.
“Armed only with a slingshot and love of country, The Skipper reached down and picked up two small stones and challenged the armored giant. The arrogant warrior pointed a finger at The Skipper and laughed. With all his might, The Skipper pulled back his slingshot and delivered a stone deep into the giant’s forehead. The Militiaman took two steps forward then fell to the ground dead. Darius used that moment of confusion to take out the Militia Leader. The Skipper then charged directly into pistol fire and released the second stone at point blank range, eliminating the third Militiaman.
“I have a message for all you whores in the Peoples’ Militia and your Chinese pimps. Be afraid. RAMBRO is everywhere and now he has a partner, The Skipper. They are coming for you!”
With that, Mickey Gilley’s rendition cued in and slowly faded out,
“If the sky that we look upon
Should tumble and fall
Or the mountain should crumble to the sea
I won't cry, I won't cry
No, I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me…”
The Black Patriot was off the air. Delvin Smith, The Black Patriot,
peeped out of the abandoned mineshaft somewhere just east of Yuba City, California. The coast was clear. Delvin mounted his bicycle and returned to his parked truck. He wasted no time getting back on the road. He had to meet Doc Pham in Emeryville that afternoon.
Thousands, maybe millions, of Patriots across America huddled around outlawed radios listening to the latest installment of The Black Patriot. Those who had shortwaves retold the story of The Skipper to those who didn’t. Within a few days, across the country, wanted posters formerly spray painted with RAMBRO in black, now also sported THE SKIPPER spray painted in white.
One of those Patriots was lying in a field hospital in Winchester, KY. Jo had cheated the grim reaper once again, with fatigue and severe headaches being the only lingering symptoms of her most recent brush with death. A shortwave was sitting not too far from her cot and was tuned in to Voice of America when The Black Patriot came on the air. When Medics heard a commotion from the nearby tent, they came rushing in fearing that Jo was having a seizure.
Far from it, she was up, awake, dancing, laughing her ass off, and squealing, “I’ll be a son-of-a-bitch!”
While it was up to the likes of Darius, Tom Jackson, Jo, Nurse Beth, and Dr. Ho Pham to save American lives, The Black Patriot gave America something to live for.
Dinner with Friends
By the time Delvin made it back to the Emeryville Operations Center it was almost suppertime. As Delvin approached the Center, there was a long line of Chinese nationals waiting to be tested and vaccinated.
“Good afternoon Member Dr. Pham, sorry for my late arrival. Is this a good time to discuss the upcoming Round Mountain Operation?”
“Why yes, it is Member Smith. Please step into my office.”
Delvin and Dr. Ho emulated the procedure that Nurse Beth and Ho developed at the POP Clinic in Louisville. Workstation volume up, Peoples’ Phones next to the workstation, chairs moved to far corner of the room away from Ho’s desk.
“Please allow me a moment to answer my cell phone Member Dr. Ho.” The device Delvin pulled from his pocket was no cell phone. He carefully swept Dr. Ho’s desk and the entire room.
As the two men sat down Delvin softly spoke to Dr. Ho, “Looks like your office is clean electronically, other than our Peoples’ Phones. I didn’t detect any fiber optics either.”
“That’s quite a line outside, waiting to be tested and vaccinated.”
“Yes, it is Delvin. All are Chinese nationals departing for home within the next 48 hours. They are tested and within an hour we have the results. Of course, they are all negative, but the test is just another precaution. Approximately 5% receive the red vaccine. Top priority is given to Party Officials, Chinese military, and State Security personnel. No children receive the red vaccine. After vaccination, all are required to stay in quarantine until departure. This is just an added precaution. It will actually take several days for those receiving the red vaccine to become contagious.
“You certainly know your craft Delvin. Your warning about Chinese State Security was on target.”
“So, you had visitors while I was away?”
“Yes, Peoples’ Militia, an Auditor, and a CSS agent.”
“So, what was their verdict?”
“They said I ran a slick operation.”
Delvin erupted with laughter, “That damned CSS man is some wordsmith, isn’t he?”
Delvin then got up and turned down the workstation volume, “Member Dr. Pham, there is a very nice Chinese restaurant not far from here at the end of Powell St., right on the Bay. Would you and your team join me for dinner? We can continue our discussions over a good meal.”
“That is an excellent idea, Member Smith. Shall we say 7 p.m.?”
“See you then.”
At precisely 7 p.m., Delvin met the Pham Party at China Seafood House. The Maitre D seated The Pham Party at a table for four with a beautiful view of the Bay.
Delvin then spoke up, “If it’s not too much trouble, could we move two tables down? The ladies would have a better Bay view.”
The Maitre D indulged Delvin’s request and moved the party.
Dr. Ho whispered to Delvin, “Mr. Smith, I have much to learn from you.”
Dr. Yen discreetly collected all Peoples’ Phones and placed them in her handbag which was stuffed with cotton balls.
During dinner, Nurse Beth and Dr. Yen made somewhat loud small talk while Delvin and Dr. Ho
spoke softly.
“When we go to Round Mountain, the Resistance will allow us to pass without incident. But on our return trip, they will interdict the convoy shortly after we depart Round Mountain. When they attack, get down and don’t get back up until the shooting stops and you’re directed to move. Until then you’re dead!”
Just the mention of shooting terrified Dr. Yen, “What about my daughter?”
“Before we leave Round Mountain, give her something to put her out. You should all draw some of your own blood, including your daughter’s. When the Resistance attacks, sprinkle the blood inside your vehicle.”
Nurse Beth appeared troubled, “What will happen to you Mr. Smith?”
“After all the escorting Militia are neutralized, I will be wounded. Not a life-threatening wound mind you, but a convincing wound. I will be the sole survivor.”
Dr. Ho calmy asked, “By neutralized, you mean killed?”
“Eliminated completely, no trace. You will also disappear without a trace.”
This troubled Beth, “When can we go home?”
“Nurse Beth, when the Stars and Stripes once again fly over The Capitol, you can go home. Until then, I promise you that you will live in a place where there are no Social Quotients, no denouncements, you won’t go hungry, and you can read your Bible and pray without fear. You will live in a place where the air is clean, and people work hard and enjoy the fruits of their labor.”
Beth found all this hard to believe, “Mr. Smith, you can make all this happen?”
“Nurse Beth, my friends call me Slick.”
The Guide
From 1967 until 1989 Nicolae Ceausescu was the Communist Dictator of Romania. He modeled his regime along the lines of the Kim family in North Korea. It was a brutally repressive personality cult. While the Ceausescu’s lived a life of luxury, the Romanian people remained mired in collective poverty.