Crashed: The Death Of The Dollar (14 page)

Bishop Christensen and Phillip continued their conversation late into the night. They mostly fantasized about the hoped for fighting, not realizing that it would be nothing like the movies. They agreed that Bishop Christensen would try to radio "Thomas" to let him know what they were working on, and that they'd meet again a month later, on March 16th.

Both men were back home the next night and already getting to work recruiting scouts who could be trusted and who could help map out the Guard stations. Bishop Christensen went up a few days later, after the snow melted down some, to radio up to Mike.

"Are you there?" Taylor heard coming over the radio.

"Damn, I thought we'd get to enjoy all winter without hearing from him," she said. Mike grabbed the radio and sent a beep.

"I got the message delivered like you asked. Do you copy?"

Beep.

"In doing so, I met a friend of yours. He said to tell you the 'ornery old bastard' says hello, and congrats on the baby."

"I'll be damned," Mike said, as the ladies all smiled. They all knew who that meant.

Beep.

"We wanted to let you know we were really inspired by the news reports." Mike assumed this was code for his recording. "We're doing some scouting for a good place to camp out, do some shooting, and have a big camp fire."

"This son-of-a-bitch is crazy," Mike exclaimed.

"Why? You put out a call to arms. They're listening," Taylor said.

Stacy and Jessica exclaimed in unison "You did what?"

"Do you copy? We're scouting for a camp to do some shooting and have a bonfire. Are you on board?"

Beep.

Bishop Christensen was so excited to hear a single beep that he jumped slightly, forgetting he was on a snow-covered hillside. He slipped and fell on his side, hearing a crack and feeling sharp pain coming from his left arm.

"I have to go now. I think I just broke my arm. Will radio you again in about a month. Do you copy?"

Beep.

"How the hell did he break his arm?" Mike wondered out loud.

"I hope he's alright," said Taylor. Everyone else gave her a funny look. "What, I do hope he's alright. I don't want him breaking bones. Just getting bruised up good," she continued with a laugh.

"Um, okay, so Mike, you've got some explaining to do,” Jessica said. “You called for an armed resistance? Seriously?"

"Yeah. I sorta did. After what happened to Amy and those kids. People need to start fighting back. And now it looks like the Bishop and Phillip are going to start scouting staging areas to try and attack the Guard from."

"What? I didn't hear him say that," Stacy said.

"He did. That's what the camp talk was about. Finding a place to set up, somewhere to do some shooting, and I'd bet the bonfire comment is for trying to destroy the Guard bases. Burn them down."

"You know what, Mike, just get out the recording and let me listen to it," Jessica demanded.

Mike got her the laptop and said he was going out to the barn. He wanted to scan more channels from the relocated radio station, and start listening in on more government frequencies. Taylor wanted to learn how to use the radio station, so she joined him.

When they got to their newly assembled radio station, Mike directed Taylor to three boxes they had moved down from the cave, telling her if she wanted to learn radio, that's where to start. Inside those three boxes were nothing but books. She was a bit miffed that he had books she hadn't read, but determined to spend her time studying them as she had the rest of his library over the years.

Mike sat scanning mostly military frequencies for about an hour, hearing information that could prove useful, but wasn't really catching his interest. Things like food delivery schedules, updated uniform standards, and daily routine schedules. All intel that would likely change before anyone could act upon it.

Then more interesting reports began coming across. Mike determined that they were reports from outlying stations, reporting to a central regional station. Taylor overheard just enough to make her get up from her reading. They were reports regarding reductions in personnel. Many seemed to be complaints about being stretched to thin to maintain their mission.

Mike pressed a button to record the transmission, as he and Taylor began trying to write down and decipher the terminology. The Saint George station apparently had a 35% personnel reduction, with nearly 75% of that reduction being abandonment. Saint George was requesting pending transfers to Mexico be halted. Very similar numbers were coming out of Mesquite and Cedar City. If they were understanding correctly, Beaver's five man station only had one remaining guardsmen manning it.

"Somewhere they've got a regional base set up," Mike said.

"It sounds like it," she said curiously. "But how do we find it?"

"That's what we'll have to figure out," he said as he sat back in the chair.

As their intrigue with what they were hearing settled in, excitement began to build. Neither were saying anything at first, but both were starting to see the likely correlation between Mike's last 'Thomas Paine' message, and the abandonment happening at every single Guard station in their area.

"Oh my God, Mike! You did it! You've started disarming the Guard without firing a single shot!" Taylor exclaimed excitedly.

“Hey, you two,” they heard from Stacy as she was climbing up to the barn loft with them. “Anything interesting?”

“
YES!” Taylor almost screamed. They're having a hard time keeping members in the Guard. A lot of them are abandoning their posts!”

“
That's awesome,” Stacy said, very unenthusiastically. “Mike, there's something I don't get.”

“
Well, okay. What?”

“
How are so few people able to control so many? I mean, it doesn't make any -”

“
I got this!” Taylor said, wanting to answer her, but seeking Mike's approval. “People don't like confrontation. They don't like fighting.” She paused to look at Mike. “It's like in the Revolutionary War. It was only a really small percentage of people who were willing to fight. I mean like around 3%. Almost a third of the people didn't take a side in any way. When people have their needs met and feel comfortable, they'll quietly accept oppression with total apathy.”

Taylor sat up proud. She could see the look of approval she was wanting in Mike's eyes.

Chapter 12

Surveillance & Strategy

Several weeks had passed and Mike had continued with his messages, stepping up the threats each time. Bishop Christensen was radioing up to him once a week to confirm that they were following through, taking the threats as orders, and acting upon them before the 'Thomas Paine' broadcasts every Friday evening.

Jessica's pregnancy had progressed along well. She had a few more weeks until the guessed due date, and the fatigue of carrying the baby was starting to take it's toll. She did very little anymore to help around the ranch, spending most of her time sewing and reading.

Taylor was getting more and more excited by the day for the baby's arrival. She was going to be the one to deliver it, with Amy standing by to help since she'd had to do an emergency roadside delivery when Bethany's twins were born. Whenever Taylor wasn't reading up on childbirth or radio, she was working hard in the greenhouses.

Stacy and Amy had each taken charge of the two large pit greenhouses they used to sell out of at farmer's markets. Thanks to an early spring, they had started planting in mid-February, and the first spring crops were about ready to harvest. Just in time for new food deliveries that were to start in a few days.

With so much going on, Amy and the five kids proved to be priceless help. They had moved on from the loss of their loved ones and started building a new life on the ranch. The kids were all home-schooling with Brad, and Amy was helping in the teaching rotation.

It was April 10th, and Mike was taking Taylor down to meet with the Bishop. They were intent on discussing plans to start hijacking supply shipments of food and fuel from what remained of the Guard.

"Tom, Taylor, great to see you!" he greeted the pair as they got to the cedar grove. "I've got a ton of things for you," he said excitedly as he started pulling papers out of boxes.

"Slow down," Mike said "What is all this?"

"It's maps of the Guard stations in Saint George, Mesquite, Cedar City, and Beaver. None of us have been able to get north of Beaver to find out anything up there. But the stations in Parowan and Enterprise both are done. The last guardsmen there walked out and handed over everything they had stored up!"

Mike was starting to question his involvement in the resistance again. He wasn't some skilled military leader. He'd never seen combat. He was just a self-described "electronics nerd" in the Navy who hadn't even owned a gun before moving to Utah. He sighed slightly. "Good news about Parowan and Enterprise. Is all of this organized well enough that I can sort through it later to study at home?"

"Absolutely. I spent all day yesterday making sure everything for each station was together and in order for you."

"Thank you. We'll just load it up and I'll start on it tonight. How many guardsmen are left at the remaining stations?"

"There's a few new guys at each. As best we can tell, we've got a dozen total down here," he answered, referring to nearby Saint George. "Eight in Cedar. and I'm told only two left in Beaver."

"How is it that with only two in Beaver, you can't get north of there?" Mike questioned, seeming annoyed.

"We're trying Mr. Paine. I-15 has been barricaded by some serious military vehicles. These aren't the hummers and pickups they drive around in down here. These are armored combat vehicles with machine guns. They got the high ground on that last summit half way between Beaver and I-70, and those Guard up there aren't abandoning their posts," the Bishop pleaded. "With the snow mostly melted away now, we're hoping to get some guys to take the mountains around, but the Guard is even running helicopter patrols along there. They are really serious about no one getting north of there, and only supply shipments and more guardsmen ever come south."

"What about that back road that goes up to Milford from Cedar?" Mike asked.

"You can get to Milford if you have enough fuel, but they blew up the highways going north and west from there. We still can't get around that last big hill."

"Then that's got to be where that regional base is we've not been able to find," Mike mumbled as he was deep in thought. "Dammit! I'm such a dumb ass!" He suddenly exclaimed.

"No you're not," Taylor said loyally, as the Bishop questioned "What?"

"The junction of interstates 15 and 70. That's where the base is we can't find. They took over the intersection of the interstates. There's some old fort up there from the early pioneer days."

"Cove Fort, you mean?" The Bishop knew exactly where Mike was talking about.

"Yeah! That's it! By controlling strategic interstate points, they've isolated controllable regions. We need to find a way to confirm this. What about that friend of yours you said was talking to folks in Richfield?"

"We've tried getting with some people up there. They're blocked in at the base of the mountain, just west of Joseph. They haven't been able to move west."

"That only adds to the probability then. Okay, look. You don't have to be able to get around that barricade to find out what they're hiding. Start having your scouts get up on mountains with telescopes. They're going to be able to see it from one of these peaks. They'll also be able to get a better assessment of the barricade."

Bishop Christensen felt pretty dumb for not thinking of that idea himself.

“
Thomas, there's more,” he said, telling how the Guard had sent some new men into the area. “Mr Paine, these new guys coming in seem a lot more hardened than the kids who've been here for months. I don't think we're going to see any more abandon their posts. We keep following your orders to take stands, holding our guns aimed at them. These new guys have aimed back and taken a few shots at us. They missed, but I don't think they're missing on accident,” the Bishop said with a slight degree of fear in his voice.

“
Have your guys shot back?”

“
No. They can't really. They're staging themselves between a thousand to twelve hundred yards out. These guys don't know how to shoot that far. I got a few who shoot four to six hundred yards, but most of them are used to killing a deer or elk inside a hundred yards and then putting their gun away for the year.”

The Bishop hesitated for a moment, hoping Mike was going to volunteer to help somehow. “Thomas, I only know one person who can make those kind of shots.”

“You don't know shit!” Mike blurted out, not liking where this was going.

“
Phillip does.”

Mike looked down silently. He didn't want to say anything.

“
Okay, what if you don't help us fight back when the time comes. Maybe, maybe if you could just teach some of these guys -” Bishop Christen tried to continue.

“
You don't learn to shoot a thousand yards or more overnight,” Mike said angrily. “Look, Bishop, teaching your guys is going to require a lot of time and ammunition for practice. Do y'all have at least a thousand rounds each for them to work with?”

“
Goodness no.”

“
Great. So no skills, no time, and not enough ammo. What about pooling together for just your three or four best shots to be able to practice?”

“
Maybe, but it'll be stretching us I think.”

“
See what you can come up with. Try to focus primarily on .308 and 30-06.”

“
Are those the best guns to use for this stuff?” the Bishop asked.

“
Not in my opinion. But they're absolutely capable, and you're bound to have a few hunters who have spent some serious cash on really good rifles. They seem to be the most popular calibers, so they're the ones you can most likely get the most ammo together for.”

“
I'll get on it the minute I get home.”

“
Look,” Mike continued, “be sure your guys stick with as much of the same ammo as possible. If they use one hundred and fifty grain Remington ammo during one practice session, and then one hundred and sixty-five grain Federal the next time, they don't stand a chance of learning long range shooting. If the ammo isn't consistent, they'll never get consistent enough to build any real skills.”

“Bishop,” Mike said, unsure if he should really continue. “There is one other option for getting good guns and ammo together. I've been monitoring the Guard's radio pretty closely. There's going to be a weapons supply truck coming through tomorrow night. I don't know it's route or what exactly they're carrying.”

“
You want us to take it?”

“
I can't tell you to do that. I don't know what you guys are ready for. Talk with your men and decide for yourself. The truck is due in at 1:10 am tomorrow. I'd expect it's going to look no different than any other supply trucks to hide it in plain sight.”

“
If we can take this truck, will you come fight with us?” the Bishop asked firmly.

“
No!”

“
We really need -”

“
I said no!” Mike stood up more straight. “I've got four women, six kids, soon to be seven, and a lot of the needed food supply to keep safe. I'll help with gathering information and planning. I'll keep doing my radio recordings. But don't ask anything else of me.”

Mike turned and walked off to get in his truck.

Taylor grabbed the Bishop's arm to briefly talk to him by herself. “Hey, I'll try to see if I can bring down a book on our next trip that teaches a lot about long-range shooting.”

Bishop Christensen seemed relived. “Oh that would be wonderful, Taylor! As long as it doesn't cause problems between you two.”

“
Nah, he's not going to get mad at me. And I'd bet he'll agree loaning a book is okay.”

“
Any help we can get is great,” he said, patting her on the shoulder.

“
I'll try to talk to him about finding a way that he would feel is safe for me to help train a few of your guys, but no promises on that.”

“
Thank you, Taylor. You better get going before he gets mad at me for holding you up.”

At dinner that night, Taylor told the others about what the Bishop had said, and what he'd asked of Mike. Mike ate silently, his expressionless face making it known he didn't want to talk about it. To his surprise, they were actually encouraging him to do more to help the resistance. If not actually serving as a long-range shooter, then at least trying to train a few other men. Out of pure frustration, he finally spoke up.

“
Look, I've got a lot on my mind, and enough responsibility already. I'm already going to feel guilty if people get killed fighting back. And I've got to keep this ranch safe. That starts with keeping a low profile.”

“
A low profile?” Stacy said in a mocking voice. “Mike, your alias is the name on everyone's tongue. Your voice is the one everyone is following. Are you really encouraging people to do something you're not willing to do yourself?”

He had heard enough. Mike got up and walked out to the barn to be away from the others, hoping to go back in after they were asleep. Jessica gave him about thirty minutes alone before joining him. She was once again there to help calm him down, and trying to give him another one of her pep talks. But this time his mind was set. He wasn't joining the fighting.

Later the next day, Mike was out at his radio station listening in again to what the Guard was doing. He was hoping to identify a pattern in their supply shipments, but it was totally erratic. Nothing was ever delivered on the same day or at the same time from week to week. He had a feeling the Bishop was going to try to take that weapons truck that night, and was hoping to make it easier to seize other supply trucks. But this was apparently going to require a last minute operation, and with Brad yelling for him to come eat lunch, it was something he'd have to work on plans for later.

When he came out of the barn, Brad was holding keys in his hand. “Mom wants you to go pick up Amy and the kids and bring them up here for lunch. Can I drive?”

“
You want to drive, huh? Well, not while we've got other people riding along. And I think it'd be better to start you off in the S-10, not the Suburban. Maybe we can get you some driving time in later though son. I think you're big enough.”

Jessica and Mike went for a short walk after lunch together. “Jess, we've got to figure out what to do about Amy and the kids. It's spring time, and they don't seem all that eager to leave.”

“
Do you want them gone?”

“
I don't know. I guess I don't really care much either way. I don't want her thinking anything weird if we ask her to stay, you know? I like Brad having all the other kids around.”