“Well, captain,” the colonel continues, “we are going to take it before anyone else can get there. You’re an oath keeper, right?” The captain nods. “So am I. Let’s work together to make this happen.” The captain nods again, trying to wrap his mind around the mission he just agreed to support. Then he kicks into action.
Chapter 47, Assembly
Central City
10/20
The scene at our Central City headquarters is best described as organized chaos as people scurry about. I worry that we may be moving too quickly. Are we ready to take on this mission? To try and take one of the largest supply depots on the east coast?
Captain Anders sits down in the seat across from me. “Here’s my communications plan, sir. It will take three relay stations to communicate by CB radio. I need two operators and four security men at each position. Colonel Fisher has assigned me the security men, and I have my best radio operators gearing up for an extended mission. I have stressed to them how important accuracy will be due to the relays involved. I’d be lying if I told you I was not concerned about receiving accurate reports.”
“That concerns me too, captain. I am going to move to Sidling Hill and Colonel Fisher will assume command here. I already have a security detail being put together, including some of my farm people. We are starting to get stretched pretty thin.”
“The only other option would be to use the HAM radios, but I agree with the previous decision; that would alert too many people as to what is going down,” Captain Anders responds.
“Make sure each relay station has back up CBs and enough fuel in their trucks to keep batteries charged. Get your men going, captain.” He stands and salutes me with a smile, knowing the operation we are undertaking is a game changer. It is good to see the former Pentagon desk jockey so enthused.
As Captain Anders is leaving, Captain Hutchins takes his place. He is sweating profusely, even in the chill autumn air. “This is the shit, General. We’re going to do this!” he beams a broad smile as he makes this statement. “When this idea was first brought up, I thought it was nuts! But here we are, doin’ it!
“Me and Captain Devers have pared down all our security stations. I have over a hundred men ready to roll. And word of some type of action is spreading through the countryside. We have old men, young teens and anxious housewives showing up at our roadblocks because they have heard we need help.
“And you recruited some special ops team to our side? I don’t know what special connections you got, General, but keep it up. There is a vibe goin’ that has my men fired up.”
That comment makes me smile. It also makes me think that I have to keep myself grounded. I need to make time to meet with reverend Wysinger. As I am about to send Larson off to see if he is available to stop by, I pause. How arrogant, I think. It is not up to God to take time for me, it is up to me to make time for Him. I send Larson off to find out when the reverend would have time to meet with me.
I turn back to Captain Hutchins. “What about Captain Albright and the Somerset contingent?”
“He is a bit pissed. He wants to be part of the operation, but he knows his duty is to keep Laurel Ridge fortified. With us pulling our people back, that leaves him a little thin, but he and Captain Regis are sure they have it covered.”
“They understand why we are concentrating on this move to the east? They get that they are now fully responsible for the safety of our people?”
“They are fully aware of the task. They know about the Chaffes coming this way and that it may stir more activity on the ridge. Commissioner Hodges and the refugee teams have geared up to take in those we can that venture over the mountain.”
I ponder a bit again. It is all moving so fast. But so much has been put in place, I am sure by God’s grace. But still I wonder, ponder about what could go wrong, which is a lot. “Get ready to move half your men to the Sideling Hill encampment. They will move with me when we get a report back from our advanced scouts.
“The other half will stay here. Maintain a quick reaction team of two technicals with four men on each vehicle, one in Bakersville and one in Jennerstown. We can’t leave our back door wide open.”
“We have Captain Albright and Captain Regis manning those control points sir. Think of the main mission sir. That is four well -armed vehicles we are pulling from the main mission,” Captain Hutchins responds.
“I know. But we have the roads cleared. They can be with us in less than two hours. We are running low on fuel. That Paulie bastard has been slow on his deliveries, so let’s get word out that the militia will need priority use of fuel.”
We make more plans for another thirty minutes when Larson returns. Reverend Wysinger is free if you have time. I turn to Captain Hutchins. “Something in my gut tells me we have a problem. I have to go. If you come up with anything we have missed, let me know.” With that said, I grab my crutches and head off to see the reverend. Captain Hutchins smiles. He is not a religious man. But he is starting to think there may be a God, and He has plans for people. He hopes he is in those plans, and that the general is too.
* * *
As Larson and I head up the walkway to the old church, I notice our old van parked in the side lot. For the past month, Captain Devers has made sure I have had a different vehicle with a driver and security every day, the vehicle routinely changed for security purposes. I had not ridden in the van for weeks so it is curious to see it here.
I enter the reverend’s office to see all the women in my life staring at me. Janie, Brit and Becca are all seated in the small office. Rebecca stands and hugs me, then gives me a warm kiss. “The Lord works in mysterious ways,” she states. “We all came here to pray for you and tell the reverend how concerned we are. You have too much on your shoulders. Mark. I am worried about you.”
“I’m worried about me too!” I say only half in jest. “Since I recovered from losing my leg things started to settle down. Zach came home and we started to establish peace in these mountains. But in the past few days, things have really spun up. I need to know if I’m still following the path God put me on. I feel I may have wandered into the woods!”
The room is quiet for a minute at my statement. Reverend Wysinger speaks first, in a low and calm tone. “What path do you think you are to follow Mark?”
“I am to unite and protect our community while helping out anyone else that we can,” I state quickly. “We need to show that love wins over hate, and we need to use our talents and resources to show our love. I guess overall we are doing that.”
After a pause Becca speaks up. “I think you are doing that well Mark, and you’re helping to lead the community in doing that. The systems you have helped put in place exemplify love. Many have said we should turn away the refugees, but your will has won them over and we are thriving. But why are you so intent on this Letterkenny mission?”
“That is what has me in turmoil,” I respond. “It is an extension of keeping us safe. We need the ability to defend against people who would literally enslave us or kill us. There are people out there who would literally kill us for the food we have, or the smarter ones would enslave us to produce more food.”
“But what you are doing involves violence,” the reverend states. ”That is what has you in turmoil.” I nod in agreement.
The reverend continues. “When your farm was attacked, you offered peace, but had to use violence to protect your family. Throughout this crisis you have offered peace over violence. But you have also provided stability over chaos. In Christ’s time on earth, the Romans ruled. Even though they were cruel, they provided stability, security. That stability and security allowed for the gospel to be spread.
“Throughout history, when there is stability and freedom, the gospel is spread freely. Tyranny, oppression, and chaos is the playground of the devil. Christ did not ask the centurion to lay down his arms. Christ knew the centurion represented peace and security. I do not condone violence, Mark. But, I am all in favor of stability over cha
os. You need to make your own peace with God. And I think you need to continue to offer peace and friendship over violence. That course has served us all well, and it is a path that Jesus would have us follow.”
Again, the room goes silent for a few moments. Janie breaks the silence. “My husband is at the front end of this mission. But I have seen the chaos, we have fought against the chaos. Becca, we have to support Mark and Zach. We can’t let that chaos return. None of us would survive.”
“She’s right, mom,” Brit states. “Those bastards that attacked the farmhouse, they didn’t care that our kids were in there. They just wanted to kill us and take our stuff. There are a lot more bad people out there still. We have to be ready when they come. I don’t want my kids growing up in a world of chaos. Mark is our centurion. We need him to do his job.”
Becca is weeping softly. She stands to leave the room. “You are right. I hate it, but you are right.”
Larson stands and hugs his grandma. “Don’t leave gramma. We need you here.”
Becca sits, tears still rolling down her cheeks.
The reverend offers up a prayer, asking for wisdom, courage, strength and guidance. We all bow our heads as he speaks.
* * *
Afterwards I walk with Becca through the marketplace that has grown twice its size in a few short weeks. Larson spies the pretty young girl selling cheese, and heads off to flirt with her as we slowly walk past the many vendors. Becca stops at a booth selling thread. She is fascinated by the many colors and textures available. Having spent many evenings with needle in hand repairing torn clothing, she sees the value in a few spools of thread.
I pop five rounds out of a spare clip to trade for two small spindles, but the merchant quickly turns me down. “You must have script to buy here. You can exchange your rounds for script at one of the exchange booths. We are trying to set up a currency exchange, but for now we are using script.”
I am dumbfounded and amazed. The local merchants are moving on from a barter system to script. That is when it truly sinks in that I am to be the centurion. That I have to move forward. These people are moving forward because of the stability our militia has helped to provide. We have to keep them secure, we can’t let chaos win.
“Becca, I have to move forward with this mission. The whole team has been assembled. The time is now. God gave me a gift of foresight and leadership. To not use those gifts would let anarchy and chaos descend on these people, and on us and our family. If we are not ready, what has been established here will be overrun. What Paul and his crew have accomplished will be undone. If we do not move forward, we will be overrun.”
“That’s not what scares me, Mark,” she replies. “I know you have to do this. It’s what comes next that scares me. What happens after you take that depot? People will come gunning for you, for us. Do you think what’s left of the military will just say ‘oh well’, and not take any action? We could be stirring a hornets’ nest. Are you ready for what comes next?”
What she is saying has been rattling around in the back of my mind. What does come next? This is the knot that has been in my stomach. We become the biggest player in the area if we take Letterkenny. Word of that will get out. Not only military groups, but any organized gang or rove militia will come after us. We have maybe two hundred soldiers to defend the largest cache of working military hardware within two hundred miles. That is not going to work. We need more allies.
“Mark, Mark!” Becca exclaims. “Trade your rounds for some script so I can get that thread.” I had walked all the way to the script booth deep in thought. I make the exchange and we head out to get the thread. I let Becca know she is right, that our small militia has to have a plan for what happens after we take the depot.
I spend another hour with my wife enjoying the day. We talk and laugh. We meet a few friends and exchange news. We come across a manicurist and I convince Becca to get her nails done, an extreme luxury right now. We part with a kiss as I head back to the militia headquarters.
* * *
As I hobble through the door of the old VFW a sergeant hollers for attention. “At ease,” I holler, and head towards the communications office. “Send word out that we need a staff meeting ASAP. Anyone in the area, we need them here now. I’ll be at my desk.”
I turn and head to the large open corner were my desk sits with enough room for a large group and our maps. Colonel Fisher is already there with Captain Anders, our communications officer. They have a large map of Pennsylvania spread across the conference table and are discussing numbers and movements in hushed tones.
I look at the map, with its numbers and arrows and lines strewn across the Plexiglas covering. What I see is not the troop movements of our militia on the Letterkenny depot. It is lines of movement from across the state on the depot. Some lines in red, some in blue; a few are dashed. To the untrained eye, it is gibberish. To a strategist, it is a war plan.
I look at Colonel Fisher dumbfounded. “Reinforcements?” I ask, looking at the map and all the lines and arrows. “From who?”
“Oath Keepers,” the colonel states smiling. “Once Colonel Adkins leveled with Captain Warfield, he went all in. He is an oath keeper and they have established a communications system like ours, but bigger, wider. Some are active duty commanders willing to bring entire companies, even battalions in. Some are guard or reserve units that are taking care of their small towns, but will send a squad or platoon. They received the martial law order and rejected it. They were just waiting for a way to fight back, waiting for an opportunity, and some type of leadership.”
“And we have provided them that opportunity!” I state happily, amazed. “Thank you Jesus! Thank you God!” I embrace the normally stoic colonel. “Becca and I were just struggling with this question. We just prayed about this!”
The large man steps back, a wide smile on his face. “You said God answers prayers. I guess He put this one high on His priority list.”
“I guess so,” I say softly, contemplating it all, a tear forming in my eye as a smile breaks across my face.
“What do they know and how many are there?” I ask.
“Colonel Adkins is on site with Captain Warfield. She is coordinating it all. We are just getting updates. You are wise as a fox or just plain gifted. You recruit a G3, a talented operations planner, and she is where she needs to be to coordinate what needs to be done.” The colonel smiles.
“I don’t believe in coincidences, Colonel, that is God’s work,” I reply.
“You all, believing God set this all up,” Captain Anders says as he shakes his head. “I don’t get it. The general is smart, he thinks ahead, and we got lucky with these Oath Keepers. It’s just motivated people doing what they can. How do you say it is God working? Where was God when the nukes went off?”
“God didn’t cause this chaos captain, man did,” I reply softly. “I will allow that He let it happen. But man has the freedom of choice. We can choose good or evil. For the past century God has been pushed away. Science and selfishness has replaced God. The North Korean dictator thought of himself as a god. I say God is with us because we are seeking Him, embracing Him, asking Him to help us.”
“And it is working Captain,” Colonel Fisher states emphatically. “You monitor the radios. You know of the chaos that surrounds us. And the special ops guys that we recruited a few days ago, that’s coincidence too?” the colonel asks a bit snidely.
“Hush guys, hush. Either there is a God, or there isn’t. I believe there is. If Captain Anders wants to believe in coincidences, well, that is his choice. Let’s get this ball rolling. We have momentum on our side right now.”
Becca meets me at the VFW as my platoon of security and coms people are getting ready to roll towards the Sidling Mountain outpost. The rush of activity sets her back a bit. “So you are going to rush headlong into this mission?” She asks tersely. “Didn’t our talk sink in at all, Mark?”
“It sunk in one hundred percent babe. And God answered our praye
rs,” I respond. As I am talking to her, two old deuces pull down the road. Each truck carries a full load of men and one pulls a trailer full of gear. A young man in old BDUs jumps from the passenger side of the lead truck
He approaches Captain Hutchins, who is just a few yards from us. ”Lieutenant Smiley, A Company detachment commander, 110th Infantry Battalion. My S3 told me to report here. He said to say Omega Kilo, Alpha India.”
Captain Hutchins looks the young man over. He is thin but not malnourished, dirty but not unkempt. He glances at the men in the truck; they are rough but orderly. Looking back at the young officer, he notes his steady eyes and grim determination. He asks a single question. “Oath Keepers?”
The young man smiles, “Omega Kilo, Alpha India; Oath Keepers, All In, Sir!” He snaps to attention. “Permission to speak, sir.”
“Granted,” The captain responds. “Stand at ease, Lieutenant, speak freely.”
“I have a full platoon of infantry soldiers with me. That is all we could spare. We are trying to protect our own farms from anarchy. I am told you have a mission of utmost importance that will help us all. I am at your service. I do request that my unit be kept intact and under my command.”
The captain gives his assent to this request, then continues. “We have a diesel tanker two blocks down, get filled up. There is also a mess tent there, get your men some food. Report back here ASAP, you will follow this convoy out. You won’t return for several weeks, if not longer.” A bit wide eyed, the young officer gets his small convoy rolling.
I look at Becca as she has watched the entire scene play out. “What was that all about?” she asks.
“Oath Keepers,” I respond as a large smile spreads across my face. “A few years back, a group of officers started an organization called Oath Keepers. When an officer is sworn in, they take an oath to defend the Constitution. They don’t pledge an oath to the president or the government. They pledge an oath to protect the constitution. Martial law decrees are unconstitutional. These soldiers are on our side.
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