Glen Tate - 299 Days - The 17th Irregulars

“We brought out some snacks,” Carl said and showed them the cases of food in the boat. “We’re taking them out to the farm. We will be the supply officers for the guerilla unit.”

“We’ll be taking our ‘liberator’ operation on the road and start operating in your area,” Travis said. “We’ll need a briefing on where all the Lima storage facilities are.”

Paul was steering the boat to the Marion Farm landing. The Team helped the visitors from Boston Harbor unload the boat. They then put the supplies onto two big landscaping carts that were stashed down at the landing. They were the big carts with the huge tires; the kind used to haul large plants around a landscaping site that worked great for moving supplies along the quarter mile road to the farm.

“This is the last load we’ll do with the carts,” Stan said. “We have a truck scheduled to be here tomorrow morning, which will make the unloads much easier.”

They talked about how they would get the word to Dan that a truck with two guys would be coming to the gate. Grant would tell Al that these two were “rental team” guys, who, in turn, would nonchalantly tell everyone else that they were residents going to their cabin. No one would remember them and wonder why they weren’t at Grange meetings. The majority of residents didn’t go every night anymore because things were running relatively smoothly.

Grant had never seen the Marion Farm. When he came up on it, he was amazed. Even in the low light of dusk, he could see how perfect it was. It was huge and had a horse fence around it. The road from the beach was easily defensible. There was a little high spot facing the beach that was perfect for an observation post and a machine gun. There were two large outbuildings. Sap said they were empty but would be put to good use. The farmhouse was big. It could use a little cosmetic work on the outside, but it was solid. It was nice inside. It hadn’t been lived in for a while, but someone had cleaned it up pretty well. The electricity and water were on. Thank God.

They went out to the huge barn. Like all barns its size, it had a hay loft. There wasn’t any hay in it, just a large floor for sleeping dozens of men. Same with the bottom floor, which still had remnants of hay and general farm dirt in it. It would take a thorough cleaning to get it up to sanitary shape for human habitation, but the troops out there had lots of manpower and lots of time. Cleaning a barn and turning it into sleeping quarters was one of the unglamorous things soldiers did for the 99.9% of the time they weren’t engaged in combat.

They met about a half dozen Patriot former regular military guys who were already there. The Air Force RED HORSE guy, Don, was in charge of getting the farm up and running. He was a thin, bald guy in his late thirties. He was everywhere and doing an amazing job. They didn’t have any heavy equipment, like the truck that would be coming the next day. Most of the tools had been sold when the farm was abandoned. Don handed Ted a list of needed equipment and talked to him about the five hundred gallon underground diesel tank at the farm, which was empty. At least they had a tank they could fill and then use. It beat a bunch of gas cans stacked up.

Grant and the Team were going around and introducing themselves. The military guys had been briefed on the Team and what they would be doing, so they were warmly received.

The military guys were glad to be out at Pierce Point. They had been cooped up in Boston Harbor and were anxious to get out in the field and get the mission underway. This was a big adventure for them. Most of them had never been in combat, which was universally true of the Air Force and Navy guys out there. Some of the Army infantry guys had been in combat, but that was in Afghanistan and a little bit in Iraq toward the end of that war when things were pretty quiet.

But, even for the combat veterans, this mission was much more exciting. It wasn’t fighting for Afghans or Iraqis. It was fighting for Americans. It was getting their country back. They seemed to be glad they had landed in a unit with other Patriots and were in a position to do some good things. It beat being a stranded “gray man” back in their own cities trying to sabotage the Limas.

Ted informed the Team that they wouldn’t need to come out to the farm again for a while as he wanted to get everything up and running first. Ted had enough guys there already to guard the place.

“Hey, Grant, whatcha doin’ tonight?” Ted asked.

“Not dating men, if that’s where you’re going with that,” Grant said with a smile.

“Wanna come back with us to Boston Harbor?” Ted asked. “There are some people I’d like you to meet.”

“Sure,” Grant said. He had told Lisa that he might be working nights with the Team a lot in the future and not to count on him being home at any particular times. She understood…only because he hadn’t told her the truth.

Grant reached into his pocket and felt to see if he had any of his caffeine pills. Yep. Good. He could stay awake tonight. He was glad he had squirreled away a few hundred caffeine pills before the Collapse. He knew he’d need them.

After some more introductions, it was time to head back. Stan, Carl, Tom, and Travis would stay at the farm. The Team went ahead toward the boat as a group; Ted, Sap, and Grant brought up the rear. They silently walked down the road back to the boat. The moon was out. It felt so odd to be walking down a road with some Special Forces guys and carrying an AR and full kit.

Grant felt like he was in a movie. Out at Pierce Point, he had been through lots of things that he never thought he would experience, but every once in a while something even more movie-like happened. Something that was unexpected, even by the new standards of “normal.” Grant was just soaking it in. This was a memory he’d have for the rest of his life. Just let it soak in.

They got to the boat and met up with Paul, who was in his element. He had lost a lot of weight and looked healthy for the first time since Grant had met him. He was smiling, which was also something new. He was doing something extremely important. He had gone from being the fat kid who played video games to the trusted guide covertly ferrying Special Forces to a secret base.

Grant was really happy for him. That’s one good thing that’s happened from this war, he thought. At least there was one good thing.

They drifted slowly in the boat as they pushed off from the landing. Once they got a hundred yards from shore, Paul radioed the Chief and sped up. They were back at the dock at Grant’s cabin within a few minutes. The Team silently got off and went into the yellow cabin. Scotty radioed Gideon first so they didn’t get shot.

It felt odd for Grant to stay on the boat. He always went with the Team and sensed things were different now. He felt slightly integrated with Boston Harbor, even though he had never been there. He wasn’t just a guy on the Team or the judge anymore. He was now connected with the Boston Harbor HQ.

Was this what he was supposed to be doing? This was getting serious. He had gone way past a neighborhood defense group. He had gone past helping to make a community run smoothly. He was a rebel soldier now, and kind of a high-ranking one. He would have some big responsibilities in the civil affairs field. Is this what I’m supposed to be doing? He kept asking himself this question.

Yes, Grant thought, this is exactly what you’re supposed to be doing. You’ve come this far. You have some very unique skills and assets. This was supposed to happen.

Yes.

Hearing the outside thought verify that this was what Grant was supposed to do was exactly what he needed to hear. Grant was calm. It was that amazing peaceful calm that came when the outside thought told him he was on track and was doing what he was supposed to be doing.