Indivisible (Overlooked by Liberty) (26 page)

Chapter 14

-

Colebrook, New Hampshire (April 27)

      
The group met at their regular spot on the edge of town in Mr. and Mrs. Philbin's cellar.  Segments representing the Mountain Boys and the New Hampshire Covenant packed the room.

      
Time ceased in the drab underworld.  Though mid-day, the room was black beyond the glow; a tight beam of sunlight crept between sill and stone, and arced across the void.  Mrs. Larson sat with her massive shoulders hunched, listening to every word Reverend Thoreau spoke.  The large woman didn't like what she heard and seared through the minister with her dark, beady eyes.  Out of respect for his position, she refrained from saying anything.  Also present were Max and Helen.  Chaos and Wolfenstein represented the Mountain Boys.  Others of the Colebrook Covenant besides Helen and Max were Mr. and Mrs. Philbin, Mrs. Noel, and Harvey Madison.  Captain Thomas and Steve Morrison waited outside.

       
Reverend Thoreau came to speak to the group on behalf of the prudent population of Colebrook who wanted a common-sense solution.  "This movement has gotten out of hand.  You're not considering the consequences on the rest of the community.  Everybody's worked up and going along with it, but what are you fighting for?  Secession?  Is that it?  You want to start your own country?  You people have got to sit down and figure out where you want to end up.  The Feds will come in here to put an end to this like they did in Utah and in the Southwest--as they did in the Carolinas."

      
"Like they did in Boston?" Chaos added.  "What about Boston?  The Feds sent the best they had against us.  We got what we wanted and got out anyway.  On top of that, The Wizard is starting a sister Covenant in the city with a secure communication link.  And, sir, the Feds stopped nothing in the Carolinas.  It simply moved here.  I don't know you, but I respect your position; however, this struggle is about representation.  Bad urban policies the Feds pass to gain votes, should not be placed on the backs of the rural working folks.  And the very fact that uprisings happened in Utah and in New Mexico and in the Carolinas only illustrate the problem.  The Feds can stop an uprising, but they can't put out the fire inside us called liberty."

      
"Yes!  Yes!"  Vanessa Larson stood and towered over the others seated.  "Yes!  That man is absolutely right.  Someone's got to do it and it's going to be us.  My little boy didn't die for nothing.  There's no compromise while that crook is in the White House."  Chaos' statement struck a cord with Mrs. Larson.  She spoke passionately about family and community . . . as tears seeped from the corners of her eyes.  She pointed at others as she spoke, her tiny eyes squinted and peered beyond them.  "That bastard in Washington might as well have signed his resignation in blood the day those boys died.  I want him out of there.  There's no room for compromise!  No room!"

      
Helen's jaw firmed up with the recollections Mrs. Larson conjured up; her squinted eyes held back tears of rage.  Reverend Thoreau spoke out before Helen could react, "Fundamental change can take place through the system.  We should at least work out a truce and start a dialogue."

      
"No way," said Helen. "No way." Mrs. Philbin and Mrs. Larson joined in.  The three women began talking at once, stating their opposition to Thoreau's idea....  Vanessa Larson's statement the last definitive voice in the mêlée, "And I don't think you have any business telling us what we should or shouldn't do.  Who did you lose?" Mrs. Larson taunted the Reverend.

      
A pause.  Chaos and Wolfenstein looked at one another realizing the dynamics of the situation.  Harvey Madison had no idea how militant the New Hampshire covenant had become.  His vision of the Covenants as that of a benevolent, self-help organization had turned into a violent uprising.  He looked to Max.  Max stared ahead expressionless as he sucked his teeth; he was unshaken by the suggestion of armed revolt.

      
Chaos broke the silence, "Well, there you go, Reverend.  I think we're going to prepare for a fight.  If you wish to contact the Feds and set up a meeting and talk with them, that's fine, but we have to prepare for the worst.  They can't be trusted."

      
Reverend Thoreau sulked as he nodded and collected his things to leave.  Turning to Mrs. Larson, he said, "I
have
lost something.  A whole town.  And a way of life."  Putting his hat on, he left.

      
"We're meeting down here for obvious reasons," the President stated flatly as staff members sat around a large oval table and looked back at him expectantly.  The Map Room in the basement of the White House was small but today it seated Secretary of Defense Kyle Paz, Chief of Staff Lucas Bennett and Secretary of Human Concerns Darwin Combs comfortably.  An additional member to the group sat away from the others, Commander Serrac, an obvious stranger.  Kyle glanced his way and wondered what function this young commander had at the meeting.

      
"This is what we have."  President Winifred grabbed the portable computer below the wall-sized, view screen and moved it to the head of the table where he sat.  He flicked on the screen and the entire wall lit up with a live satellite view of the Earth.  Winifred moved the track-point to the North Country and clicked.  The room lights automatically faded.  "It's not a big area to go into.  Not nearly as bad as Utah and the Southwest were."  Clifford clicked the Colebrook area and the big screen zoomed in again.  "Without cloud cover we can look at everything."  The greenery of the village park and the grassy patch behind the Congregational Church could be seen, but the sixty-five rectangles of fresh grass behind the Church went unnoticed.  The President clicked a drop-down menu and chose the MAPPED GRID options, which changed the screen to a computer diagram of the village.  He found the Philbin house and clicked the pre-marked structure.  The screen switched back to a close-up, satellite view of the house and surrounding area.  "It isn't just the Tobacco Boys anymore; there are some Army and National Guard deserters."  Captain Thomas, with several others of his group, could vaguely be seen under a scant cherry tree on the viewing screen, their military uniforms visible below the clusters of blossoms.  Two Chipping Sparrows nervously fluttered from branch to branch near their nest in the same tree, unwilling to leave their home despite the impending invasion.  "The so-called Covenant is meeting in this place right now."

      
Lucas turned to Secretary of Defense Kyle Paz, "Do we have anything like the Israeli satellite with a Masada?"

      
"I think you know," said Paz,  "we signed an agreement with China, Korea, and Japan not to develop space weapons of that type.  Israel held off signing.  Getting nuked changed their perspective on things."

      
"General Paz, I know damn well that our satellites could direct a missile right through the door of that house."  Lucas pointed at the wall monitor.  "And I question your loyalty, sir!"

      
"You
should
question my loyalty because I'm not inclined to use the United States Military to assassinate its citizens.  We're not allowed to do that in other countries and we're not doing it here."

      
"Attacking the President of the United States was an act of war!  Knocking out the communication system of the entire East coast is an act of war!" Chief of Staff Bennett flared.

      
"Hold on here," said Winifred.  "We're getting nowhere with this."

      
Secretary of Human Concerns Darwin Combs confirmed the statement, "General Paz is correct, you know.  Something like that is legally baseless.  We can't just circumvent the law that way, even if they did attack the White House."

      
"If?" Lucas reacted.  "The Tobacco Bunch used those little kamikaze planes on the Prudential Tower.  The very same kind!"

      
"Lucas!  Please!"  The President's tone was more insistent this time.  "I'll have none of this."  He collected himself.  "I asked Commander Serrac to join us.  He flew in from . . . . "

      
"The Amur River Region of East Russia," Serrac filled in the President's awkward lapse in memory.

      
"Thank you.  The Commander has had a lot of experience fighting guerrilla forces in that region.  Their terrain is similar to the North Country, as is the weather.  What's your insight on this, Commander?"

      
Serrac rose and walked over to the screen.  He was six-foot two and sharp looking.  Commander Serrac was part Mexican, thick chested with a slender waist--the stuff diehard novels routinely portray.  There was not a hair out of place, every pleat of his uniform pressed, every wrinkle ironed to a crisp edge.  "Sir, could you zoom out to the immediate area, please."

      
As the President looked for the drop-down menu to pull the satellite view back to a wider scan, Reverend Thoreau could be seen on screen coming out the front door of the Philbin house.  He walked directly to the tree where Captain Thomas and Steve Morrison stood.  The viewing screen zoomed out to a regional map.

      
Reverend Thoreau spoke to Captain Thomas, "You started this thing.  You should be in there trying to stop it!"

      
"I don't think there's anything I could say that they would want to hear, sir."

      
Reverend Thoreau continued, "If the town could just have more time to get over the tragedy.  You could propose some type of strategy that would provide more time.  We're going to try and arrange a meeting with the Feds but we need someone from the Covenant to be there.  The Covenant might listen to a soldier such as yourself.  Just talk to them."

      
Commander Serrac pointed to the Dixville region and surrounding area.  "Unlike the Amur region in East Russia, the North Country has a network of back roads.  We can make our perimeter along these roads, using line-of-sight or sensors.  If our satellite sensors show them concentrated around Colebrook and Dixville Notch, we can tighten our perimeter around that immediate area.  The smaller the perimeter, the more tightly compacted we can keep our forces.  Limiting their territory is paramount."  He pulled his hand down from the viewing screen and paused to give thought.  "Another factor is time.  We have a large number of Guards going AWOL.  If they're headed to the North Country we have a big problem, your earlier photo of the soldiers under the tree is evidence of that."  Winifred zoomed in on the Philbin place again to see the figures blurred by the limbs and flora of the tree.

      
"This is all wrong," stated Darwin Combs.  "Constructive dialogue should be our first wave of attack.  I'm disturbed by the unstated assumption that this has to end in violence.  And what particularly disturbs me, is Chief of Staff Bennett's notion to use a satellite to assassinate American citizens."

      
"I didn't say anything like that.  I only asked if we had them!"  Lucas nearly yelled it out.

      
"Of course you didn't, Luc," Winifred consoled.  "And Darwin, dialogue
is
our first option, but we must prepare.  Like Commander Serrac stated, the time factor is important.  No one in this room, including yourself, really expects anyone in the North Country to turn themselves in for what they did in Boston, or for the murder and attempted murder at the White House.  You are right though, and I want you to make contact with them.  Arrange that dialogue."

      
"I want to start right away."

      
The President nodded.

      
Darwin Combs closed files on his pocket computer and left the room.

      
"Where do we start?" asked Mrs. Larson after Reverend Thoreau had left.  The group looked back toward Chaos and Wolfenstein.

      
"Are we talkin' tactical strategy?" asked Chaos.  He got up from his chair and asked for something to write with.   Mrs. Philbin went for paper and markers.  Chaos looked shabby; he was unshaven and dressed in dirty blue jeans and a red flannel shirt.  He wore a Mail Pouch Tobacco hat.  With his chiseled physique and folksy attire, he looked like a local farmer.

      
Mrs. Philbin returned with her grandson's large drawing pad and a fat crayon.  She opened the pad and leafed through it for a blank page, stopping on a picture her grandson had drawn; she moved on and tore out a blank piece.  The awkwardness in the moment muted everyone.  "Here."  She handed it to Chaos and sat down, clutching the drawing pad to her chest.

      
Chaos taped the sheet to a blank section of the wall just beyond the light.  "Three things are critical: time, territory, and the support of the people.  That support may be willing or forced support, preferably willing."  He drew a big circle on the paper, splitting it into sections like a piece of pie.  "The center is Dixville Notch.  It's rough terrain, and if the road through the Notch is blocked then they have to go out around.  This is how the
Pie Tactic
works:  Twelve attack packs are assigned to each sliver of the pie.  As the Feds locate and attack Dixville, attack packs engage and down troopers from behind, within their sliver.  If one sliver of the pie is having trouble, attack packs from nearby slivers flank the Feds.  Within each sliver, attack packs engage in typical bait and bushwhack tactics, getting Federal units to chase a pack into unsecured woods, so waiting groups can ambush them.