Dark Grid (Book 1)

by David C. Waldron

  “Napoleon may have been a nasty little prick with an ego the size of the Alps, but he had a decent grasp of logistics…at least at the beginning.”

  “That he did, Yates. That he did. Get my platoon Sergeants to the command tent for a pow-wow, and reply that the message has been received and that an additional response will follow in one hour. If nothing else we’ll tell them to hold tight for another hour. Now the fun begins…so much for boring.”

  Afew minutes later, everyone was seated around a folding table in the command tent. “So,” Mallory began, “the main question is how big a force do we send to meet with said group, and how do we bring them in, if we bring them in? We’ve already established the fact that we are going to require them to become productive members of our little community, and we’d like them to bring something to the table. We don’t have hard numbers for ratios of men to women to children, that’s why one of you needs to go along on the first few of these meetings to make that judgment call. Suggestions?”

  Halstead was nominally senior, so he went first. “As this is the first group we’ve encountered, and we don’t know how they are situated yet, I’m already operating under the assumption that they are all traveling in a group and don’t have any leadership that would be able or willing to meet with a representative from us. I would personally want to find out how large they are, meet that with a 25% increase in numbers and a sufficient force multiplier in hardware, and arrive at the designated meeting place ahead of time, prior to letting them know where that place would be--after proper recon of course.”

  Mallory nodded, “Go on.”

  “If we did that, we could either determine what they had to offer and allow them to accompany us back on the spot, or we could reject the request, also on the spot, and have a sufficient force to deny any attempt to follow us. I really think the show of force would keep them from trying too terribly hard when we told them ‘No’, too.” Stewart looked at Jackson, who took up the train of thought.

  “The first several of these groups looking for a place to go are likely to be fairly desperate, whether or not they have something to offer. Picking the time and place, arriving ahead of time, and then letting the group know where to meet us will protect us in the short term. We’ll need to let word get out that we aren’t ambushing people though, somehow. We’ll also need to try to keep a lid on where we are for a while, too, otherwise we’ll just have people showing up, which could get hairy real quick.”

  “So, exactly how much time have the three of you put into this behind my back?” Mallory asked.

  Halstead smiled and answered for the three, “Actually, none. It’s logical though, and it’s really no different from an unplanned evacuation of a friendly village or town in a hostile area. As things start to settle down, groups will begin to coalesce, and we’ll probably have people willing to send ambassadors to meeting places to discuss coming in as a group. We’ll need to have our people scope out the area beforehand, and we’ll probably have a totally different SOP for it, but I think we’ve got the basics for today or tomorrow ready once we get numbers from the group who called in today.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Do we have a formula or are we going to make that up as we go along too?” Stewart asked.

  “We’ll swag it. I told Yates to tell them we’d get back to them in an hour and it’s been all of fifteen minutes. I don’t want to appear too eager to meet with them.”

  “So you make us suffer. Nice. You sure you’ve never been to OCS?” Jackson asked.

  “Far as you know. I’ve trained more snot-nosed six-month wonders than I care to recall though, that’s for sure.”

  “Amen.” All three platoon Sergeants chorused.

  “So, numbers, how many of what…”

  …

  After the initial radio contact had been made and communications had been established, it was reported that the group only had twenty-five people. Although time had not been on Mallory’s side, Mr. Murphy didn’t appear to have paid a visit yet, as the group had four couples and five families. The youngest child was seven years old and the group at least claimed to have skills and a willingness to work and contribute. They could provide tents and clothing for themselves, and all but one of the men had a serviceable firearm they were willing to use in defense of the base.

  Three squads were sent out to secure a meeting area, as the initial assumption that the group was unwilling to separate and send out an advance meeting group had been correct. Halstead, once again being nominally senior, drew the short straw and accompanied what he hoped would be a welcoming committee. He also hoped it would be a short meeting, as full ‘battle rattle’ was hot.

  There were eleven Humvees and LAVs parked in a semi-circle when the nine cars, trucks, and SUVs of the group looking for a new home showed up. None of the heavy weapons were aimed at the incoming vehicles but they were menacing nonetheless. Once all the vehicles came to a stop, everyone got out and three men and a woman came forward. Halstead and three others met them in the middle of the slightly lopsided circle.

  “Afternoon. I’m Sergeant Halsted, U.S. Army.” Halstead held out his hand to the man in the middle and slightly in front of the rest. “I understand you folks are looking to possibly relocate.” That brought a chuckle and eased the tension a little.

  “You could say that,” one of the men said. “Mike Parker.” He didn’t introduce the others, but Halstead assumed that would either happen later or it wouldn’t, in which case it would be three names he didn’t need to remember.

  Mike went on, “It doesn’t look like things are going to get back to normal any time soon. A couple of us have Police scanners and CBs and what we’ve heard isn’t real reassuring. Most of us are from the same neighborhood, but we all know each other and we got together and decided we needed to do something.

  “Tammy here,” Mike pointed to the woman, who nodded, “mentioned that she’d seen a number of convoys heading this direction from what she assumed was Nashville, as that’s the closest military base of any kind in that direction that she was aware of. We put what we thought were two and two together and came up with something between three and five and threw out the CB broadcast.”

  “We knew we were taking a bit of a chance doing it, but we also figured that we needed to do something, and you folks sure do look like the Army, so at least that part seems to have panned out.”

  “Oh, I guarantee we’re U.S. Army. And I truly do hope the power eventually comes back on, because I’d sure love to see my pension when the time comes.” That brought another laugh and, once again, eased the tension.

  “I understand that you all have tents and general personal supplies for yourselves for a limited period of time, is that correct?”

  “Yessir, we do. We’re doing ok for food and water for right now…shelter and clothes aren’t an issue yet either.”

  Halstead let out a breath; he really didn’t like having to ask the types of questions that came next, not of civilians. “Please understand, I’m asking the next questions because I have to. Are you all, or are most of you, able bodied and willing to work--and I mean work hard? There’s a lot of physical labor that needs to be done from the time the sun comes up until after it goes down every day. Not just the military folks, the civilians that are there already as well.” That got a raised eyebrow. Apparently they hadn’t thought anyone else was there but the military.

  “Well, of course. None of us are looking for a handout. Like I said, it doesn’t look like things are going to get back to normal any time soon, and there’s going to be safety in numbers.” Mike wasn’t acting indignant, which was a good sign. It would make the next questions easier.

  “I’m glad to hear that, because frankly not everyone feels that way. Next, how do you feel about having the military in charge for the time being?”

  “You’re the ones we called out to, Sergeant Halstead. In the long run, if a regular government can be set up, well, not exactly like it was, but like it was as in was
meant to be was, that would probably be best, but you aren’t looking at a bunch of people wanting to take over via a coup. All of us either have a family history with, or current family in, the military and we’re proud of that fact,” everyone was nodding, “which is partially why we went with calling out to you all instead of trying to hook up with just any other group out there.”

  “Fair enough. In that case, what additional skills do you folks have that you feel will be of specific value to the group as a whole?”

  “Brick masonry, carpentry, weaving, sewing, gardening, and farming, hunting, architectural design, and structural engineering for starters. If the base--that’s what your radioman referred to it as--isn’t dry, we’ve also got a wicked awesome brewer, but if so he won’t even distill ‘medicinal brandy’.”

  “I believe we may be able to come to terms then. If you’ll give me a few minutes I think we can probably be on our way shortly. It was my understanding that you wouldn’t need to make any detours or stops, is that correct?”

  “Yessir, we have everything we need packed up with us.”

  “I’ll be just a moment then.”

  Halstead went back to his Humvee and radioed to base to confer with Mallory and let her know that they would in fact be bringing the group with them.

  “We’re all on pins and needles with this one. It’s a little different than the semis. We’ll see you when you get back. Radio when you turn into the park, over.”

  “Roger, out.”

  “We’re all set,” Halstead said as he got back to the group waiting at the center of the circle. “In a couple of minutes a number of Humvees will pull out behind you. If you would turn around and follow them, we’ll bring up the rear. And one last request, we ask that you not broadcast where we’re going yet, although eventually we’re sure it will be common knowledge.”

  “Sure thing. I guess we’ll see you back at the base then, and thank you, sir.”

  Halstead couldn’t stand it anymore, “We save ‘Sir’ for the officers, I work for a living. Sergeant or Halstead is fine.”

  “Ah, yeah, I knew that. Sorry Sergeant, just nerves I guess.”

  “Not a problem, Mike, looks like the escort has arrived. See you back at the base.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  With the perimeter of the base slowly expanding and constantly under observation, the biggest problem they were encountering was the fact that they were deployed in the woods. Security in a wooded area is always an iffy proposition at best, no matter what anyone says. It simply takes more men, more equipment, and more time the keep a wooded perimeter secure, primarily due to visibility.

  Sergeant Evan ‘Sparky’ Lake and Specialists Morris and Hook were part of the patrol to the southwest of the base on Day 12, June 25th. Now that the Armory had emptied out and everyone was finally back together in one place, things were starting to settle down into a routine. Lake wasn’t looking forward to the time when he would need to tell his men to cut the chatter on the radios during patrol but it would also mean that everyone was finally getting comfortable with their new surroundings.

  Morris was on point and just as Sergeant Lake was wondering how long it would be before he would have to start reigning in his men, Morris’s hand went up in a fist, then went flat and patted down, and he sank to the ground. Lake and Hook stopped where they were and slowly followed Morris’s lead, relaying the signal and sinking to the ground. Sudden jerky movements caught the eye, that’s why they didn’t just fall straight down--that and it would have been noisy.

  Morris low-crawled back to Lake, “We have a group of unknowns about 250 meters north north-west. Unknown number but they’re making enough noise to raise the dead and acting like they’re trying to be quiet. I heard ‘Shh’ no less than three times.” Morris was pitching his voice low but not whispering. It was a talent that you learned quickly in the military as a whisper, for some odd reason, carried farther than a normal speaking voice under certain circumstances. Saying ‘Shh’ was just about the worst thing you could do to maintain quiet, as anyone who’d been on patrol knew. It was like screaming, “Hey, look over here!”

  “Papa six, this is Papa two, over,” Lake radioed in to base.

  “Roger Papa two, this is Papa six, what’s up? Over.” Corporal Pine had radio duty.

  “We have an unknown number of individuals of questionable intent about a klick south south-west of the base. They sound like moose walking over bubble wrap but they’re moving slow. Request coordination with Papa one and Papa five to assist in determining intent and neutralization of any threats should they arise. Over.” I seriously hope no threats arise.

  “Roger, wait one. Over.”

  ‘One’ ended up being almost two minutes while the First Sergeant was located and brought into the Net. “Papa two, this is Alpha six. Confirm you have an unknown number of individuals headed towards the base. Papa one, Papa five report, over.”

  “Roger six, this is Papa one, good copy, we can be above the party in two Mikes. Over.”

  “Roger six, this is Papa five, read you Lima Charlie, we can interdict the party before the base in the same two Mikes. Over.”

  Ok, so both of the other patrols on this side of the base could assist to surround this party on three sides within two minutes. Assuming that nobody else was headed into the area where they should be patrolling, that would be fine. Hope I didn’t just make a really stupid suggestion, Lake thought to himself.

  “Roger Papas one, two, and five. Proceed to positions 100 meters in front and 20 meters above and below the party. Pace them until Papa five meets a heavy fire team, at which point they will announce themselves…”

  …

  The three squads that were on patrol numbered twenty-eight soldiers and, as such, they were currently outnumbered by the invading force. While quantity can have a quality all its own, the raiding party was outclassed in every way that mattered. Each of the raiders had at least one unique characteristic that allowed him to be distinguished from each other. Each guardsman had thus been assigned an ‘Alpha’, ‘Bravo’, and ‘Charlie’ target.

  By utilizing this tactic, a small defending force can defend against a potentially much larger attacking or raiding force. There was some overlap and every target was covered at least twice--a few targets were covered three times. In the unlikely event that one or more guardsmen ran out of targets then it became a matter of ‘don’t let anyone kill me or anyone else on my side’.

  The use of the term target for another human being may sound cold and clinical but in a kill or be killed situation being cold and clinical is what keeps you alive. It’s also what these men and women had trained for, in some cases for years. They all hoped, to varying degrees, that the situation could be resolved without any shots being fired--but they weren’t going to let indecision or reluctance result in one of their own being a casualty.

  Lake was just wondering how close they were going to allow them to get to the base when the answer came in the form of a hastily constructed horseshoe PA system and Sergeant Wilson’s not so melodic voice at 120db.

  “Stop where you are. Put your weapons down and then put your hands up. Do not fire or you will be fired upon. I repeat, stop where you are, put your weapons down, and then put your hands up.” Sergeant Wilson paused for two seconds and everyone in the raiding party went stock still. “We know how many of you there are and you are now surrounded.” While not technically correct, they couldn’t know that. The sound was coming from three sides at this point.

  Then, someone did something stupid. Instead of putting their rifle down they brought it to their shoulder, aimed, and fired. What they were aiming at was irrelevant as they missed. As soon as they pulled the trigger, they were hit by no fewer than nine rounds--three different three-round bursts. Whether because of his show of bravado, the act of defiance in the face of resistance, or simply the movement of that first person, eight other people made the same stupid mistake. In less than five seconds a total of nine host
ile raiders, who had not only not put their weapons down but had taken aim at something and fired, were now down and assumed dead.

  Wilson was disappointed that it had come to this but he was far from upset with his men. That didn’t mean he wanted the situation getting out of hand though. “CEASE FIRE! You have been warned! For your own sake stop where you are, put your weapons DOWN and put your hands UP! You’ve just seen what will happen to anyone else who fires!”

  Over the Tactical Network, or TACNET, Lake heard Top call in for a Situation Report, “All Units, this is Alpha Six, sit rep, over.”

  “Papa one, all clear, no casualties…yet. Soon-to-be Private Price thought it would be cool to take a head shot.”

  “Papa five, all clear, no casualties. Be advised several shooters aimed this way and shots went high.”

  “Papa two, all clear, no casualties.”

  “Cease fire, do as they say. Put the guns down! We don’t need to lose anybody else!” That came from the raiding party, hopefully from someone with the authority to make that call. There was also the sound of retching coming from the group.

  “I repeat, stop where you are, put your weapons down and then put your hands up.” Sergeant Wilson said again, thank goodness the volume had been turned down. It had been cranked pretty high at first for shock value.

  “Do it! Now people, let’s go,” Again, from inside the group.

  Slowly, which was good, the guns were placed on the ground and people stood up with their hands in the air. It wasn’t good enough to put their hands behind their heads because you couldn’t see what was in those hands, they had to be in the air. Within a minute, all the hands were up and two additional squads of guardsmen came out of the woods near the front of the group. Each had a bundle of zip ties in one of their thigh pockets, as they made great hand-cuffs, and there were a number of lengths of rope that already had loops tied into them. Somebody’d been busy.