by D A Carey
“Interesting plan, Mr. Cavanaugh. I’m sure that could ruffle some feathers.”
“I’m not a politician. I’m not trying to persuade anyone. Those are my private thoughts. Nevertheless, my plane is due to land soon so I need to cut this short. Feel free to reach out to my assistant for any follow-up questions or information you need.”
The Falcon 7X touched down at Bowman Field in Louisville, Kentucky. The trip from Colorado Springs to Louisville was made in only a few hours.
Vince was waiting for his uncle in the parking lot of a small aging airport in one of two black SUVs arranged by Dave’s security group. A couple of the men followed Vince through the antique building to greet his uncle on the tarmac. The terminal that separated the plane and tarmac from the parking lot was at least sixty years old and could have passed for a hundred. It was built of red brick with the traditional air tower with a glass air traffic controller enclosure at the top. Vince smiled at seeing his uncle emerge from the plane followed by the hulking figure of his old friend Levi. Close behind was another man he didn’t know who carried himself much like Levi. As Vince and two security men approached the plane, an observer would have noticed that they were all dressed casually. They wore jeans and comfortable shirts for the slight chill in the weather that hung loose and untucked in a way that hid their weapons.
In the SUVs, they did have weapons with more punch in case they needed something with more range in the country or more stopping power in the event they encountered an aggressor in body armor. As a weapons enthusiast, Vince chose the heavy barreled version of the FN .308. It was a weapon he was very familiar with and regarded as one of the best made for a wide spread of combat uses. Using his uncle’s influence, Vince was able to obtain a couple set up for full auto. That had been no small feat considering how few were made in that configuration and that they were usually reserved for government use. He loved the smooth feel of the trigger and the overall accuracy and fit. Vince normally carried a Winchester SX-AR, sister rifle to the FN .308, and regarded it a reliable old friend in the field. Automatic weapons like these were getting harder to acquire, even with influence. A lot more of the criminals had armor-plated vests and fully automatic weapons than in the past. Having a little more punch in a round made sense.
Most of the city of Louisville was still under martial law. The Bowman Field airport and terminal were protected by the National Guard, augmented by Army personnel from nearby Fort Knox. Only a few years ago, Army personnel would not have been able to assist in this way. On one hand, it was good to see order restored. On the other, Vince couldn’t help but think allowing a single person to use the military this way inside the country’s borders was like putting a loaded gun in the hands of a toddler. The prohibition of using troops in this manner inside the U.S. was a well-thought-out tradition that dated back to Rome and the legions.
While they waited for Uncle Dave and Levi to descend the steps, Vince surveilled the area to watch for threats or see if anyone was paying special attention to them. Many times, it was a casual bit of misdirection or nonchalance that diffused or avoided a potential issue. When possible, that approach was much more suitable than a display of power. Often, the best way to hide was in plain sight. Halfway between the terminal and the plane, Vince reached out to shake his uncle’s hand. Uncle Dave moved past the hand for a hug.
“We’re family, Vince. We can hug. No one will think it’s unmanly.” He had a talent for disarming people and making them smile with a gesture or witticism.
“I’m glad you’re here, Uncle Dave. I always enjoy seeing you. We really should get in the cars soon, though.”
“Why? Are you expecting trouble?” Dave asked curiously.
“No, nothing specific, it’s just that with some of the hate organizations targeting police and the riots in this city, you never know what can pop up. It’s better to stay on the move.”
“I thought things had gotten better in the city?”
“They have…some.” Vince sighed. “It just seems to me like we’re always one incident away from it blowing up again. People are treating things like a snowstorm where you stock up on bread and milk and stay indoors a few days.”
“And you don’t think that’s the case?” Dave asked, genuinely interested.
“I don’t know. Who am I to predict?” Vince said in exasperation. “It feels more like a whole winter season to me with some hurricanes thrown in to boot. Sure, we might withstand a storm or this week’s devastation. But there will be another one behind it. When spring rolls around and the storms abate, we come out and see what’s still standing and what needs to be rebuilt.”
“That’s pretty dire, if you’re right,” Uncle Dave opined as he was being ushered through the ancient terminal. “I may have launched my ark communities too late.”
“First off, Uncle Dave, no one should be listening to me. You know so much more.” Vince smiled. “Secondly, I keep hanging on to something you said, that the lifecycle of different entities is never the same. When I say a winter season of change in this country, we all automatically think in terms of four to six months like a regular winter.”
“Yes?”
“What if a season of change for a civilization is years or decades? What if the time between storms is months or years?” Vince asked.
Dave patted Vince on the back enthusiastically. “Vince, you’re exactly right and wrong at the same time! We should be listening to you! I want to reflect on this some, but we need to hope this unrest is just a random summer storm. However, if this time is the beginning of the winter of change in America, then we need to get ready. We don’t have to be frantic, because as you pointed out, we could have months or years of good times mixed in during this decline. Still, we do have to move forward with purpose.”
“Thanks, Uncle Dave. That means a lot coming from you.”
“It’s not only your city. Although bad things are happening all over, they aren’t getting the press coverage they should.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to say,” Vince said. “If five, ten, or fifteen cities have these problems all at once, then the people rioting tend to feed off of each other. A sociologist could explain why, but I’ll be darned if I can. I only know it happens.”
“Very true.” Dave nodded. “It’s not only the civil unrest. We can’t lose sight of the terrorists and countries like North Vietnam, China, Iran, or Russia. They have to be licking their chops and thinking what a perfect time for a covert cyberwarfare campaign or simple outright terrorism. We’re aware those countries sponsor terrorism in our country and around the world; we just can’t get the press to report it or people to appreciate the seriousness of it.”
“You’re right. I can’t believe how many people misunderstand cyberwarfare in this day and age. It’s like the lottery for aggressive countries.”
“Lottery?”
“Think about it this way. Assume that any terrorist organization that is trained and experienced in cyberwarfare has a pre-planned, semi-plausible cover story for any public outcry to their cyber-attacks or incursions. They know their cover story won’t hold up to the scrutiny of people like you and me or those in the intelligence community. But it doesn’t have to. They have accomplices in the mainstream media that either knowingly or unknowingly help them. They will alibi anything away for the terrorists as long as the cover story meets a political agenda.”
“Yes,” Dave remarked.
“With all the recent success, they have to know before any cyber battle starts that any cover story they offer will be as good as gold with very little downside. The world, and particularly the U.S., is more than willing to accept any story to avoid escalating tensions or outright war considering all of our problems at home.”
“You’re right,” Dave said, “and it’s a chilling thought.”
“Those countries and a few other organizations that actively practice cyberattacks view our internal strife as weakness. To them, we are finally vulnerable. That gives
them the confidence to continue their cyber assaults on us in a twenty-first century war scenario. They know just by watching TV that most of our media will help them by selling their cover story. That means any money or secrets they steal are a bonus, like lottery winnings.”
“I see what you mean, yes.”
“It doesn’t end there, though!” Vince exclaimed. “Russia and China are very experienced in cyberwarfare. North Korea and Iran are learning and getting better.”
Dave nodded. “I have other sources telling me the same thing.”
“So here’s the clincher,” Vince said. “All you have to do is compare cyberwarfare today to traditional warfare and replace the artillery barrage of World War I or II to cyber-battle attacks of today. For a common citizen, that’s a stretch. For a military person or historian, they know exactly where I’m going with this.”
“I get it. Do enough damage and soften up the enemy, then follow with boots on the ground. If you don’t shut down power or weaken the U.S. financially or otherwise, then you merely wait and try again later. We’ve proven we won’t respond and our own people will help support their cover story. It’s a win-win for them.”
“Exactly.” Vince sighed. “Well, we could still right this ship. This is a strong country. We never give up hope.”
“Yes, hope for the best and plan for the worst.”
***
The expressway was nearly empty. During the declaration of martial law, cars needed special permission to be on the roads during certain hours. Now that the order had been rescinded, many people who could have been out either still didn’t feel safe enough to travel or their cars had been destroyed in the riots.
“This is why I insisted the security detail dress casually,” Vince indicated once they were on their way. “They look more like they’re going out for a beer and a game of pool rather than providing security. People are mad at the government and police. The criminals are robbing wealthy people. Traveling with men in black suits makes you a target.”
“I like it,” Dave said. “It’s less stuffy and makes them appear more human.”
“Normally, there is a very good reason for the uniform. It reinforces that they are part of a larger whole. The intimidation can also resolve some conflicts without the use of force. However, with the attacks on police, it’s probably best to slip in and out unnoticed. The city still has curfews to curtail the violence. We’re lucky things are a bit more relaxed now. I wish the vehicles weren’t so clean and uniform. Next time I’ll get them dirty first and not park them together.”
“You only need to tell Gus over in French Lick what you want. He’ll make it happen,” Dave said. “For now, let’s go see the community in Carrollton. Outside of the South Park location, this is my poster child for how I want things to be viewed and work.”
Vince nodded. “It will take us about forty-five minutes to get there.”
“Do you have someplace good in mind for us to eat?”
“If you can hold off forty-five minutes, we can eat at the diner at the community. The food is great, and you’ll love the improvements we’ve made. Besides, Uncle Dave,” Vince said with a huge smile, “you’re not the most unobtrusive person to get in and out of a restaurant. If I had made plans for someplace private in Louisville, it would still be at least a two-hour affair and not near as safe. Much of Louisville still has riots and crime, the police are barely holding their own, so I think it’s best to get out of the city.”
The point of Dave’s visit was to see the construction site and to press Vince to take a more active role in the project. He wanted Vince to understand his role was crucial. Vince was a natural leader who made good, sound, strategic decisions. At a minimum, Dave wanted to convince Vince to work from home more on his day job so he could be on site for the Carrollton project more. If Vince would agree to that, it would have the additional impact of demonstrating to potential members that it didn’t hurt to be further away from the larger cities and population centers. Working remotely was becoming more common. Yet many people still thought they needed to be close enough to work to make the short drive into the office when something came up. He wanted Vince to help prove that regular people could be just as effective working remotely from an hour away as they could from ten minutes away. More importantly, they would be safer and secure away from the cities.
Moreover, Dave wanted to prove how fast he could get a fairly standard but high-end plane like the Falcon 7X from Denver to Louisville. It was one thing to be told how the flight and subsequent drive would work. It was a whole other thing to experience it personally. He still didn’t love the idea of needing to go through a larger city like Louisville if things got worse in the country. Louis was checking into airport options in smaller cities like Madison, Indiana. They needed to know how their runways and facilities might handle an aircraft of this size. Still, he was satisfied to see that it had taken less than two hours for this flight.
About an hour later, they entered the diner. Mrs. Bonnie greeted Vince with a hug.
“Howdy, Vince! Where’ve you been?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Bonnie.” Vince displayed a warm smile he reserved for a very few people. “With work and all the craziness in Louisville, I got busy and didn’t take time to visit. I’m sorry, plus your cooking will make me big as a house.”
“Well, you know,” Mrs. Bonnie returned a mischievous smile, “a lot of country girls like a big, strong man. A little dad bod don’t hurt.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
Vince knew Mrs. Bonnie was teasing him, yet it still made him blush. “If you like dad bod, then how do you let Mr. Griggs stay so thin?” he asked.
The Griggs’ had been married for over thirty years, and Bonnie had been trying to fatten him up ever since. They seemed like polar opposites both in build and personality, yet it was easy to tell they were deeply in love.
“He frets too much,” Mrs. Bonnie sighed. “He’s always running and doing, and he’s always worried about something or another. You can’t keep weight on when you fret so much. That’s probably part of your problem. Now look at me. Does it look like I fret?”
“Mrs. Bonnie, you’re perfect exactly the way you are,” Vince finished with a hug. Dave and the others were standing behind him, watching the exchange. “I want you to meet my uncle Dave. He is the one that financed this whole project and the improvements to the diner.”
“I declare! He is a handsome man,” Mrs. Bonnie gushed. “And I’m not just saying that because you’re the boss. If I wasn’t married to Mr. Griggs over there…mmm mmm mmm.”
“Well I, uh, I uh,” Dave stammered, made all the funnier because Dave Cavanaugh was so seldom at a loss for words.
“Honey, I’m only joshing ya,” Mrs. Bonnie said with a deep laugh that was infectious. “I didn’t mean nothing by it. I’ve seen you on TV. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I figure you’ve got to be okay if you’re related to this big galoot.” Mrs. Bonnie bumped her shoulder into Vince’s chest. “Y’all sit wherever you want and tell me what you’re in the mood for.”
“What’s fresh and what do you recommend, Mrs. Bonnie?” Vince asked for the group.
“I’ve got a batch of fried chicken coming up soon that’s better than what you get at that restaurant over near Shelbyville. If you like that, I’ll surround it with some mashed potatoes and brown gravy. We also have some green beans straight off the farm here, and I’ve got some stewed apples made from our own orchards here that came out just right.”
“Sounds perfect to me, but you mean the potatoes and chickens don’t come from this farm?” Vince asked jokingly.
“No!” Mrs. Bonnie said in mock anger. “The potatoes would be easy to grow if you was to ask them up on the farm to put in a patch for me. Chickens is another matter. It’s a little more work to take care of ‘em than people know. Then you got all these rules on how you butcher and clean ‘em. I would love to have some fresh chickens. I could do it for my own use easy enough at home, th
ough on the other hand for the restaurant we’d have to think it through so as not to get in trouble with the health code officials.”
“I’m sure what you have will be great.” Vince made a mental note to follow up on the subject later. “I’ll bet you have some good pie ready too.”
“Of course! You got your choice of chocolate merengue or pecan that’s ready right now.”
After lunch, Vince took Dave and Levi to the hilltop to go through some of the community’s buildings and homes. After that, they borrowed a four-wheeler farm vehicle and took a tour of the orchards and farm fields. Vince made sure to show Uncle Dave the view of the rivers.
Dave asked Vince to ride with him on the way back to the airport. He needed to get back to Denver tonight for a meeting in the morning. Vince was sure he would be pressed to take a larger role. He also knew he would accept because it was so hard to turn down his uncle. He didn’t want to let him down.
Survive
“Civilization is like a thin layer of ice upon a deep ocean of chaos and darkness.”
- Werner Herzog
New York, NY
Jerome Stevens was eager to march in support of social justice. He had seen a great deal of prejudice in his life and was sure that if he was given an even chance he would have a big corner office like those fat cats in the suits. Instead, he had been wrongly accused and tried several times for small crimes he was sure would have been dropped if his skin color was different or he’d been raised in a different neighborhood. His blood was boiling and passions were high. Eight years of representation in the executive office hadn’t changed his life; however, it had revealed the depth of the corruption in government. If the man he voted in couldn’t make a difference, then it would take marches and kneeling on national TV and occasionally violent protests to get people to understand what was right.