“Why do you say that?”
“Did you notice their equipment?”
“Yeah, the Adaptive Combat Rifle mystery has been solved. I’m just glad their Cat Five load out didn’t include heavy vehicle-mounted weapons,” said Grady.
“I don’t think they received their Category Five load out,” said Alex.
“No. I saw new rifles,” said Grady.
“They’ve had those for a few years. I saw the ACRs in a news segment on one of the local channels,” said Alex. “Sean, they didn’t get a Category Five load out. I talked to a few soldiers from the battalion. They’d never heard the words ‘Cat Five.’ One of them was a sergeant. Every Marine in your battalion knows about the Category Five equipment.”
Grady thought about this for a moment. Jesus. If Alex was right, Governor Dague might be sitting on enough vehicles and weapons to equip another battalion. At the very least, she could upgrade her current National Guard battalion, which could embolden her.
“This isn’t good,” said Grady. “The last thing Governor Dague needs is a shiny new battalion to play with.”
“Are you sure the RRZ doesn’t already know this? The biometric security system on each of the CONEX boxes delivered to Sanford Airport was registered to your fingerprints. I find it hard to believe that they can’t monitor access,” said Alex.
Hard to believe, indeed.
“The boxes sent to Sanford were processed after the event. My biometric information and the override code that I gave you were uploaded immediately prior to the boxes being shipped from a central facility somewhere in the Midwest. The Category Five gear at Fort Devens was accessed by the codes in my secure Cat Five pod. Only I had the combination to the pod. We’re talking several reinforced warehouses filled with vehicles, weapons, ammunition, supplies—everything needed for thirty days of sustained operations. The warehouses were located in a secure, stand-alone facility within Fort Devens.”
“How could Dague not know about this? National Guard units across the state accessed load outs, all of them reporting for duty to the RRZ authority,” said Alex.
Alex was too perceptive for an impromptu conversation.
“3rd Battalion, 172nd Infantry is Maine’s only battalion-sized, combat-deployable unit. The vast majority of National Guard units in the state are service and support groups like the transportation detachment and the engineering company assigned to Sanford Airport. Aside from new communications equipment, computers and repair items, they had all of the gear they needed to accomplish their assigned RRZ tasks. To Dague and her staff, nothing would have looked out of place with the other National Guard units. Hell, even I didn’t put it together. I figured they picked up new rifles, and that was the extent of it. Why would they need new vehicles and heavy gear when a brigade from the 10th Mountain Division was doing most of the security work in the state? Bad assumption.”
“I bet she knows that 3rd Battalion doesn’t belong to her,” said Alex.
“Oh, I guarantee she does. I imagine it became very clear when every unit in Maine gave her the one-finger salute—except for 3rd Battalion. Once she figured out that the CO and XO were MIA, I’m sure she took every necessary step to insulate 3rd Battalion from the rest of the units. The new commanding officer probably has no idea that she played him.”
“She sounds like a clever one,” said Alex.
“Very clever—and very dangerous. I don’t think she understands the stakes. Medina has been extremely patient with her,” said Grady.
“Well, if you happen to secure 3rd Battalion’s load out, I could use any rations you find,” said Alex.
Grady laughed. “Sounds like an even trade to me. I could do one better and establish a Forward Operating Base at your position on the lake. You’re close to Waterville, and it looks like you have easy access to the interstate and roads heading into western Maine. The RRZ wants to establish a remote presence north of Portland.”
“Why? Are you guys headed north?” Alex asked.
Alex’s question caught him off guard, though it was a logical deduction based on Grady’s suggestion to put an FOB near Waterville—in retrospect.
“None of the Marines beyond the officers on my headquarters staff know we’re moving. Play along and say something like ‘just kidding.’”
“I’m out of earshot,” said Alex. “When is this happening?”
“I don’t have the date, but I do know that when it happens, it’ll go fast. Medina wants us out of here within two days of making the general announcement. She doesn’t want to give Governor Dague enough time to coordinate a response.”
Alex remained silent. Grady knew the wheels inside Fletcher’s head were spinning, trying to calculate the overall impact of the move on his situation.
“This is a bad idea,” said Alex. “She’ll have trouble coming at her from two sides.”
“That was our assessment of the situation. The refugees will move north, pushing against the residents of southern Maine.
“You’ll have your hands full trying to police the relocation of FEMA camps in York County.”
“The refugees will be on their own, aside from supplies provided by the RRZ,” said Grady. “Medina even plans to stop patrolling and administering the camps, to free soldiers for other northern garrisons.”
“Like the one you want to put near my house?” said Alex.
“That one would be much smaller,” said Grady.
“I think I’ll take a pass on the FOB, Sean,” said Alex. “I can’t afford to paint a bull’s-eye on my family again.”
“Understood,” said Grady. “Just trying to help my old company commander.”
“Old is the operative term. I appreciate the offer, but we should be fine with whatever rations you can spare from the load out—if that’s still on the table. I’d like to keep my life as uncomplicated as possible for now,” said Alex.
Grady was relieved to hear that Alex wasn’t interested in the FOB.
“There’s only one catch in getting you the supplies, Alex,” said Grady. “And it’s a big one.”
“Always a catch.”
“It’s not my doing. I would gladly deliver what you need, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to get my hands on the supplies. Medina won’t assign my battalion to secure the load out. She’ll task Colonel Martin’s 4th Brigade Combat Team with that. They’ll put every helicopter at their disposal into an air assault on the facility and call it good. I won’t be involved in any way. The only way I can guarantee you the supplies is with an FOB,” said Grady.
“I can’t do that, Sean. Even if I were to consider the idea, which I’m not, I can’t take the risk of Medina pulling the FOB away when shit gets crazy up here, and it will get crazy if she doesn’t figure out a way to work with the state government.”
“There’s one other possibility, but it falls well outside of the uncomplicated zone,” said Grady.
“I’m listening,” said Alex.
“I don’t think Kate will like this option,” said Grady.
“You’re killing me, Sean. What are we talking about?”
“All right. Let’s say I got my hands on the codes to open the warehouses, and I passed them on to you…”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” said Alex. “I’m not exactly working with SEAL Team Six here.”
“Your crew can hold its own,” said Grady, remembering Staff Sergeant Taylor’s after-action report detailing the attack on Alex’s house in Limerick. “More than hold its own.”
“I don’t know. We’re looking at too many unknown variables,” said Alex.
“I’m just throwing it out there for you. The warehouses are probably in an obscure, out-of-the-way location for security reasons. Beyond the stares and glares you’d get for driving a vehicle, you might be looking at an easy mission. Once you get inside the facility, it’s just a matter of locating the right warehouse. Everything is stacked for quick access. You load up as much food as possible and lock up on the way out. Nobody
will notice a few missing pallets of B-rats or MREs.”
“You make it sound so easy,” said Alex. “Like nobody else has thought of this.”
“You can recon the area and decide if it’s a go.”
“I don’t have enough gas to be driving back and forth between reconnaissance trips.”
“Staff Sergeant Taylor can top you off and give you extra cans of gas,” said Grady. “He’ll give you a ROTAC, too. Sanitized, of course.”
“How many sanitized radios does the battalion have at this point?” said Alex.
“As many as we can get away with creating,” said Grady, hoping Alex didn’t press him on why.
“I see,” Alex replied. “I’ll take the fuel and the radio, but I need to run this by Kate and the others.”
Grady sensed a shift in Alex’s tone. He’d gone flat, possibly putting together the pieces that didn’t fit.
“Sounds like a plan, Alex,” said Grady. “I’ll work on acquiring the codes and location.”
“I can’t wait,” said Alex. “And, Sean?”
Here it comes. No way this got past him.
“Yeah?” said Grady.
“Can you do me a favor and let Harrison Campbell know what’s about to happen?” Alex asked. “He knows where to find me if he’s interested in getting ahead of the storm.”
Or heading straight into it.
“I’ll send someone to give him a heads-up. You sure you want more mouths to feed?” asked Grady.
“If Harrison Campbell decides to join us, our situation would drastically improve,” said Alex. “I’ll be in touch shortly.”
“Sounds good, Alex. Stay safe,” said Grady, disconnecting the call.
He leaned back in his folding chair, staring at the RRZ Authority compound on the other side of the airport. Alex’s call had been sheer providence. Medina’s recent actions didn’t add up, and Grady suspected there was more to the impending RRZ relocation than the military commanders had been told. He selected a preset call sign on his “sanitized” ROTAC and pressed send. Colonel Richard Martin, 4th Brigade Combat Team’s commanding officer, answered immediately.
“What’s up, Sean?”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve found an untraceable way to verify our problem,” said Grady.
“A reliable way?”
“As reliable as it gets. A good friend,” said Grady.
“He may not be your friend when this is over.”
“He’ll understand,” said Grady. “Either way, he should be insulated from the fallout.”
“If this is what we think—nobody will be insulated.”
“Let’s hope he finds what he’s looking for,” said Grady.
Chapter 26
Belgrade, Maine
Alex slumped into the couch facing the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the deck and the lake. He looked weary, but not from physical work. Mentally exasperated might be a more accurate description. Within the span of three days, he’d seen one plan after another crumble beneath them.
Kate sensed a big decision hinging on this conversation, which jaded her perception of his state of mind. Conflicted?
The boat wasn’t an option, which meant they were staying. But Alex seemed unsettled. She could see it on his face. He was about to propose something that wouldn’t sit well with any of them, especially her. She glanced at Alex’s father, imperceptibly raising an eyebrow. He returned the gesture with a similarly subtle tightening of his lips. Amy Fletcher caught their exchange and shook her head.
“What’s going on?” demanded Alex’s mom. “Why all the secret looks?”
“Nana’s on a tear this morning,” said Ryan, setting a glass of water on the coffee table and sitting next to Kate.
“Never mind, young man,” said Amy Fletcher. “Your father looks like he’s seen a ghost, and your mom is twitching her eyes at your grandpa. Something’s up.”
Kate was glad Amy jumped in. Alex might have sat there for ten minutes, grimacing and winding up for what he had to say. Alex’s mother leaned forward in the leather armchair next to the flagstone fireplace and raised her palms. “Well?”
“Well what, Mom?” Alex said testily. “Is it possible for you to settle down a little?”
“No, it’s not. I’m hungry and cranky. Lunch is simmering, and I’d like to eat.”
Alex rolled his eyes, and Kate almost laughed. Alex and his mom had been at each other since they reduced the food rations. Neither one of them had responded well to the cutback, which had provided plenty of comical moments in the house. Kate and Tim had shared hundreds of “looks” over the past month, as the two of them bickered about every possible mundane facet of living.
“All right, you two,” said Tim. “What are we looking at, Alex?”
Alex weighed his thoughts and started, “There might be an easy way to solve our food problem.”
“Nothing easy is worth having,” said Tim.
“I think it’s ‘nothing worth having comes easy,’” Amy corrected.
“I was just saying,” said Tim, shaking his head.
“Well, you have to get it right if you’re going to say it,” said Amy.
“I’m living with the Bickertons,” muttered Alex, causing Ryan to laugh.
“Anyway. What is this supposedly easy way to solve the food issue?” said Kate. “Before the three of you kill each other—over food.”
“It involves a trip to the Bangor area,” said Alex, grimacing.
“That sounds risky,” said Kate.
“We’d be on the interstate for most of the trip,” Alex explained, “which is probably the safest way to travel.”
“Most of the trip,” stated Tim.
“Most of it. The rest will be spent on local roads, presumably well outside of Bangor city limits, searching for a storage facility.”
Ryan shifted uncomfortably on the couch next to Kate, avoiding eye contact. Alex was omitting way more than he was including in his description of the trip.
“Just a storage facility?” Kate asked.
“Doesn’t sound too bad. How far away from the interstate?” said Tim.
“I don’t know yet, Dad—and it’s not any old storage facility. Something a little different,” said Alex, meeting Kate’s eyes. “And a lot bigger.”
“What are we talking about?” she asked.
“A battalion-sized Category Five load-out depot. Probably twenty to thirty warehouses of gear and supplies. Untouched. There’s enough food in a depot like that to feed five to six hundred soldiers for thirty days,” said Alex.
Tim Fletcher whistled. Kate had to admit, it sounded like a tempting prospect. With the SUV, Jeep, and trailer, they could load up enough food to last another winter. Possibly more. They might even consider two trips. Two years of food security. It sounded too good to be true.
“Untouched?” said Kate. “How is that possible?”
“A crazy set of circumstances,” said Alex. “One of the soldiers we ran into yesterday said something odd. It led me to believe that the battalion based out of Bangor hadn’t been issued their category five equipment,” said Alex, explaining the rest of his conversation with Lieutenant Colonel Grady.
Kate processed the story, analyzing the variables and identifying potential risks or flaws in their logic. Overall, it seemed like a relatively low-risk venture, as long as Alex approached the facility with caution. Still, a few aspects of the mission didn’t add up.
“Why doesn’t Grady send someone to check it out?” asked Kate.
“This is the only way it stays a secret long enough for us to take what we need,” said Alex.
“Doesn’t he have a few vehicles without tracking devices?” she said.
“Yeah, but, I don’t know, honey. This has to be easier than trying to sneak an armored vehicle two hundred miles through Maine. We’ll do this carefully. If anything seems out of place, we bolt,” said Alex.
“Assuming it’s not too late,” said Kate.
“I can’t imagine we
’ll run into a problem. If the facility is being used, we’ll know before we get too close. My biggest concern is attracting the wrong kind of attention from locals,” said Alex.
“Nothing we can’t handle,” Ryan said.
Kate shared a quick look with Alex.
“Nothing we want to handle,” said Alex. “The name of the game is avoidance, Mr. Ryan.”
“I was just saying,” said his son.
“Well, you won’t have to worry about that,” said Kate.
Before Ryan could respond, Alex shook his head and pointed at their son. “Ryan’s coming,” said Alex. “We need two people per vehicle.”
“Take your new neighbor friend,” Kate suggested, “or your dad.”
“Hey, why did I get listed behind the neighbor?” Tim groused.
“I’m going, Mom,” said Ryan. “Dad and I are a team. It’s already decided.”
Kate shook her head. “I don’t want the two of you out there.”
“Why not?” Ryan persisted.
Kate didn’t want to answer.
“She doesn’t want to lose both of you,” said Amy. “I know where she’s coming from.”
“We’ll be fine, Mom. Seriously, it’s a one-hour drive each way. I’ll keep Dad out of trouble.”
“I need Ryan, Kate. He’s far more observant than either Charlie or Ed, and we won’t take any unnecessary chances. I promise.”
“You were about to say that he’s better in a gunfight,” said Kate.
“Firefight,” Ryan corrected.
“Same thing,” she said, glaring at her son.
“I’m a lot more careful with him around,” said Alex. “Plus I feel safer.”
“You better not let anything happen to my boy.”
Tim chuckled. “I have a feeling Ryan is the one keeping tabs on his dad.”
Kate appreciated their attempts to lighten the conversation, but she wasn’t in the mood for the distraction. Her analytical mind wasn’t finished with the scenario. “We have enough gas for this?” she asked.
“Staff Sergeant Taylor filled up the SUV and gave us twenty additional gallons. Waterville to Bangor is fifty-five miles. Depending on the exact location of the storage site, we could be looking at a one hundred to one hundred and twenty mile round trip,” Alex told her. “We’ll be in good shape, even if the mission is a bust. Taylor sends his best, by the way.”
Dispatches Page 13