Dark Coup (24 page)

“How did you…”  Eric began and then trailed off as he approached the wagon and started inspecting the work.

“One of the reasons the rims were beyond my farrier,” Travis said, “was because of their size.  Another was because of the type of steel he would have had to use.  For this, though, all he had to do was make a couple of connecting pieces to attach a wooden piece to a metal piece that bent the wrong way.  He says that he should even be able to re-use the leaf springs to soften up the ride a little and take some of the jolt off the axles.”

Eric shook his head.  “Any idea how that will translate to ease of pulling for the horses,” he asked.

“Considering the big wheels on the wagons they used way back when,” Travis said, “the Conestoga or the Schooner were upwards of fifty pounds each and didn’t have nearly the friction reduction on the axles that a packed bearing has, it should make quite a difference.”

“So now I need to be able to do something for you,” Eric said.  “Besides the coal, which you won’t need nearly as much of right away.”

“Oh I’ll still need coal,” Travis said.  “It’s not like it spoils over the winter or goes bad if it gets wet.  What do you have in mind, though?”

“How are you doing for electric and water,” Eric asked.

“I could do with more of both,” Travis said.

“Water I think I can help with fairly quickly,” Eric said.  “Electricity is going to take a little longer, but it’ll be a longer-term fix.”

“I’m listening,” Travis said.

Chapter Twenty-Four

July 16, 2013 - Fort Rucker, Alabama

Sanford was beginning to hate the inside of their communications Humvee.  It was cramped. He felt vulnerable every time they were in it. It seemed like all he got was more bad news whenever they got together there and, possibly the worst of all, was the funky smell a place starts to get when it’s been closed off for too long with people inside.

“We’ve sat on this long enough,” Sanford said. “It’s time to reach out to someone on the other side.”

Hodges nodded.  “Do you have anyone specific in mind,” he asked.

“I do,” Sanford said, “but I’m open to suggestions.”

Tuttle and Hodges were both silent for a few seconds and then Tuttle spoke up.

“Sir,” Tuttle said, “if I may.  I suggest we contact the National Guard group at Natchez Trace.  The base they’ve dubbed Promised Land.”

“Why them and why now,” Sanford asked.  “I’m not opposed to it; I just want to hear your reasoning.”

“Well,” Tuttle said.  “From what I’ve been able to gather, they and Ft. Campbell have been coordinating the communications.  I can’t go so far as to say they’re behind the rebellion, because that honestly seems to be pretty much an organic phenomenon.”

“Hodges,” Sanford asked.

“It does seem like the majority of traffic either goes through Promised Land,” Hodges said, “or is destined for there.  I would agree that while they aren’t the source of the rebellion, they haven’t been shy about organizing it now that it’s happening.”

“In that case,” Sanford said, “it sounds like we’re in agreement.  Promised Land is who I wanted to contact in the first place.  Now, exactly what do we say?”

Hodges frowned.  “That’s the tricky part.  If we don’t play it right, we could end up spooking them.  The last thing we want is for them to either switch the security keys without us knowing or simply stop using the radios altogether.”

“I think I should be the one to make contact,” Tuttle said.  “It’s my job after all.  I’m the most familiar with their system–not that it’s super complicated–and I’ve at least heard their procedures a number of times.”

“While I see your point,” Hodges said, “I think it should be someone in a command position.  We have no idea who will pick up on the other end.”

Tuttle nodded at his logic.

“Agreed,” Sanford said.  “No time like the present,”…

The rain had finally let up after three days and Mallory was in her office with Ben, going over some of the proposals that Chuck had made regarding starting new towns.  The morning had started off cool, but as the day progressed it had grown sticky and humid.

“I miss air-conditioning,” Mallory said.

“Don’t start,” Ben said, not looking up from a brief he was reading on the people that had come with him out of Ft. Campbell.  “You’ll never stop if you do.”

Mallory glared at him from across the room, but realized he was right.  She was just wondering if she needed to conduct another raid drill when the radio behind her came to life.

“Auxiliary S Three calling Canaan Six,” said a voice that Mallory didn’t recall hearing before on their network.

Ben harrumphed.

“What,” Mallory asked.

“Somebody’s trying to be cute,” Ben said.  “Canaan is another name for the Promised Land.  It sounds like you have a call from their S3.”

Mallory looked at the radio for several seconds and noted that nobody else was responding.  She knew that nobody manning a radio in Promised Land would respond to an unknown outside unit.

“Aren’t you going to respond,” Ben asked.  “You’re Canaan Six.”

Mallory shook her head.  “Who is Auxiliary,” she asked, “and why is their Operations Officer the one on the radio?”

Ben shook his head and then paused.  His brow creased and he tapped his fingers on the desk a couple of times, then he pulled out his radio, but paused in the act of calling someone and put it back.

“Who were you going to call,” Mallory asked.

The call came through the radio again.

“Mathis,” Ben said.  “He was a WWII buff.  I enjoy history but he was a walking encyclopedia.  We used to talk about the resistance movements during WWII and Auxiliary rings a bell, but I can’t remember why.”

Mallory thought for a second and called Sergeant Cox on her radio.

“Sergeant Cox,” Mallory said, “does the name or term Auxiliary mean anything to you, in reference to WWII?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Cox said.  “In the Second World War, they were specially trained units set up by Churchill to act as British Resistance in case the UK was ever invaded and occupied.  They were set up in 1940 and disbanded in 1944.”

Ben was nodding his head.

“Thank you Sergeant Cox,” Mallory said.  “That was both enlightening and very helpful.”

“Okay, now I remember,” Ben said.  “There was a credible threat of a German invasion, Operation Sea Lion, and the Auxiliary Units, or GHQ Auxiliary Units, were established as a preemptive move.”

“So,” Mallory asked, “who is this Auxiliary that’s calling me?”

…

Mallory didn’t want to wait too long, but she called in Lieutenant Halstead and First Sergeant Stewart.  She didn’t want to take the call alone, or with only Ben there, because she just didn’t feel it would be right, and Ben wasn’t in her chain-of-command.  She also had Sparky come to her office because he was the one who had designed the network, along with Sergeant Hale from Ft. Campbell, as she needed to know how someone may have gotten through their security.

When the next transmission came through, Mallory responded.

“This is Canaan Six,” she said, referring to her position as the commanding officer.

Everyone in the room was sitting on the edge of their chairs, leaning forward.

“C6,” the other side said, “first of all you deserve an explanation.  I assume you know what Auxiliary Units are or you wouldn’t have answered the call.  This has specific reference to the Bulldog.”

Mallory nodded to herself.  Even she knew that Churchill had been called The British Bulldog.

“Affirmative,” she said.  “Go ahead.”

“Against my better judgment,” the other side said, Mallory was thinking of him as S3 now, said, “I was involved in the raid on Ft. Campbell.”

Mallory could see Ben tense and put a hand on his knee.

“At the end of the raid,” S3 said, “during a sweep of one of the buildings…”

…

“Well,” Sparky muttered a couple of minutes later with a sigh, “that explains how they got into the network.”

“Yes, it does,” Mallory said.  “And thank you.  You and Hale did a great job.  We’ll take it from here.”

Sparky saluted at the dismissal and left, relieved that his network was still secure.

“It’s easy to say you’re rebelling,” Mallory said, “but I need some sort of proof.”

“Understood,” S3 said.  “I don’t know how long it will take you to verify this, but if you can get in contact with Major Franklin, he has a mole.  Lieutenant Mathis has been in contact with Colonel Olsen since shortly after the power went out without the Major’s knowledge, although he’s been silent since the raid.  We have a number of their conversations on tape, and I would be happy to play them for you if necessary.”

“Give me a minute,” Mallory said.

Mallory looked at the group in the room and held out her hands.  “Would the Colonel have given up Mathis,” she asked Ben.

“I don’t think so,” Ben said.  “He really doesn’t gain anything by telling me that I have a mole and he already knows where you are.  If he had the radio, why risk telling us?”

Mallory looked at Halstead and Stewart.

“I agree,” Halstead said.  “They have nothing to gain and everything to lose by tipping their hand like this.  There is no good reason to contact us unless they are serious and want to coordinate with us.”

“That makes three of us,” Stewart said.  “If they’ve had it this long and nothing has happened, but they’re finally contacting us, I think it’s legit.  I don’t want to be naïve but, again, they have nothing to gain and everything to lose.  They don’t know how we have the system set up, what back-doors are in place, what secondary security keys are on the laptops, none of that.  For all they know we could be locking them out right now.”

Mallory nodded and picked up the microphone.

“I can confirm that Mathis was a mole,” Mallory said, “so now what?”

…

“So now what,” Major Jensen said.

The three in the Humvee were listening via speaker and Hodges got ready to hand the microphone to Sanford.

“Please hold for my Six,” Hodges said, “but not my SIX.”

“Major,” Sanford said, “I know who you are, it’s only right that you know who I am.  I’m Major Bradley Sanford.  We can keep the names of everyone else to a minimum, but I felt you at least deserved to know who you were talking to.  I guess you can call me Auxiliary Six.”

“Thank you, Major,” Mallory said.  “Why are we talking, though?”

“Because we need to share information,” Sanford said, “and, ultimately, I think we need to work together to get rid of a bigger threat.  The Colonel isn’t the problem; he’s simply a tool being wielded by a much larger threat.  He’s a dangerous tool, to be sure, but he’s being used, mostly willingly, to advance an agenda that needs to be stopped.”

“That’s pretty vague,” Mallory said.

“And you don’t know me from a hole in the ground,” Sanford said.  “If I tried to tell you everything I know right now, this conversation would be over in five minutes and we would probably never speak again.”

There was no response from Mallory, so Sanford went on.  “The orders aren’t legitimate,” Sanford said, “which obviously isn’t news to you, but they also aren’t coming from the President.”

“This much I knew,” Mallory said.  “And by knew, I mean I actually knew.  When I say Mathis was a mole, the emphasis is on past-tense.  He may not have sung like a canary, but he did let on that the President wasn’t in charge anymore, and that ARCLiTE was not only
not
what we thought it was, it’s
more
than what we thought it was.”

“Understood,” Sanford said.  “Did Mathis know where Olsen’s handlers are?”

“All he said was an underground base,” Mallory said.  “He claimed he didn’t know where, specifically.”

“What do you know about the Denver International Airport,” Sanford asked.

“Aside from the fact that it’s in Denver,” Mallory said, “nothing.”

“We need to have a longer conversation,” Sanford said, “but before we do you need to hear some of the conversations between the Colonel and his handlers.  We can’t do it right now, though.”

Now that they were actively participating in the rebellion, or at least in contact with a rebellious group, Sanford didn’t dare either stay on the air for very long or be in the radio truck too often.

“We’ll contact you again in two days,” Sanford said, “at 1600 hours.”

…

Sparky had listened in to the exchange on the secure rig he had in his tent.  Unlike the Major, he knew at least a little bit about the Denver International Airport and the conspiracy behind it.  He’d flown through there a couple of times to visit family and the disturbing murals in the terminals and near the baggage claim area had piqued his curiosity in a morbid kind of way.

While he was wondering how far off all those theories had been, he was more intrigued with how they had intercepted some of the Colonel’s communications.  Now
that
was a question he
really
wanted an answer to.

After the call broke up, Sparky watched for the Major to leave her office and then made a call of his own.  He’d heard the call for Canaan from Auxiliary so he figured he might as well continue to use the same call signs.

“Canaan S Six calling Auxiliary S Six,” Sparky said into the microphone, not knowing if anyone was even manning the radio on the other end.  He was surprised by the sound of a female voice.

“This is Auxiliary S Six,” Tuttle replied.

“Oh,” Sparky said, stupidly choosing to depress the mic button while he was fumbling for words.  “Uhm, this is Canaan S Six.”

“I gathered that from your broadcast,” Tuttle said.  “Are you new to Ham radio or just radio in general?”

“Ouch,”
Sparky thought. 
“S6 is Communications for crying out loud.  I really
AM
the S6 for this bunch and I’m acting like I stole my Dad’s CB.”

“Negative,” Sparky said, “just got caught a little off guard.”

“Weren’t expecting a woman on the other end,” Tuttle said.  There was no question in her voice but there wasn’t any venom either.  She’d been encountering it for years and it’s just the way it was.