Glen Tate - 299 Days - The 17th Irregulars

“Any heavy stuff?” Grant asked.

“Two M240s machine guns,” Ted said. “One is at the beach landing entrance you saw. The other one is being unpacked and cleaned up right now. We have a little ammo for the 240s, but I’d like more.”

“Explosives?” Grant asked.

“Not much,” Ted said. “We have a handful of grenades, but that’s it. Some training grenades, which will be more important now than live ones. I’m harping on Boston Harbor for more grenades and some grenade launchers, but they’re a bit overwhelmed now.”

“I bet we’ll get more of the good stuff as regular units come over to our side,” Grant said, half predicting it and half just being hopeful.

“Probably. I never count on that, though,” Ted said.

“Comms,” Grant said. “Can’t forget comms.” He was trying to be the wise commanding officer, even if he wasn’t.

“We have a decent assortment of handheld radios and a couple secure ones for talking to Boston Harbor,” Ted said. “Jim Q. is all over that. Man, that code talker shit is awesome.”

“So he’s workin’ out?” Grant asked.

“Yep. Very well,” Ted said. “He stays in the background, but is social. He lets everyone know he’s not a Muslim, which is prudent, unfortunately. He talks to them about modern American culture: movies, music, sports. He speaks perfect English; no different than you or me. The troops can tell real quickly that he’s been living in America his whole life. And he’s mastered the comms plan. He knows it all, except how to fix radios, but that’s really not to be expected from a civilian.”

“What’s next out here?” Grant asked, wanting to wrap it up. It was late and he was tired.

“We keep getting more personnel and supplies in a couple boatloads at a time just like we’re doing,” Ted said. “Then it’s training time.”

“When do you want the Team here full time?

Grant asked.

“Not until we’ve got the cadre,” Ted said, referring to the term for the troops in a Special Forces guerilla unit, “basically trained. Then we’ll fold in the Team. We’ll have them get integrated with the cadre. Then we’ll practice moving and communicating as a whole unit.”

Ted looked at Grant and said, “Then it’s go time. Probably in a couple of months.” Grant could tell that Ted knew something that Grant didn’t. He could also tell that when the time was right, Ted would tell him. It would be uncool now to ask for the details. Grant knew that in a real military unit, with a real commander, he would be in on all the details. But this was different. Grant was away from the unit most of the time and could be captured in Pierce Point if the Limas got in there or had a sympathizer. Grant was actually glad he didn’t know the specific details.

Grant nodded to Ted. A couple of months? Wow. This was serious and only kept getting more serious. First, the riots. Then the bug out, the hangings, joining up with the Patriots, Snelling getting whacked, building up the troops at the farm, and now “go time” in a couple of months.

It all just naturally progressed. At any given time, it would have seemed that combat was unlikely. But one event slowly and naturally flowed into the next, and then the next. It was going to happen. What would have seemed like a crazy concept only a year ago was now becoming a reality.

Combat in a couple of months? Grant was glad to get it over with. He wanted to either die or win. One way or another, he just wanted to get this thing over with. He was scared and excited at the same time.

Ted could tell that Grant—a civilian who had never been in combat—was scared and excited. The new guys always were. New officers were especially scared and excited because they wanted to see if they had what it took. New officers wanted to see if their units had been trained and led well enough to make it through those few minutes of hell that were coming.

“We’ll be fine, Grant,” Ted said in a soft and reassuring voice. “We’re not going out until we’re ready. I have that assurance from HQ. I insisted on it. Besides, Hammond knows this. He’s an SF guy. He’s been in indigenous units that weren’t ready. He knows that it’s my call when we’re ready.” Grant wasn’t offended at all that it wasn’t his call; he was relieved. Ted was the professional here.

Grant relaxed. All the “coincidences” started flashing through his mind that put him in this place at this time. Then he thought about the message from the outside thought on the starlight boat ride to Boston Harbor that everything would be fine. Grant looked at Ted and put his hand on his shoulder.

“I have every confidence in you, HQ, and these guys out here,” Grant said with a smile. Grant was truly happy. He knew things would work out. He just knew it. And it made him joyous.

“And, I gotta admit, I have confidence in me,” Grant said to Ted. “Between you and me, Ted,” Grant said with a big smile, “we’ll do this job right.”

Ted smiled, too. He was glad his untrained civilian lieutenant had some self-confidence—and the good sense to trust a twenty-five-year Special Forces veteran like him. It was the perfect combination of what was needed in an untested lieutenant.

Ted put his hand on Grant’s shoulder, too. “Yes, sir, we’ll do this job right,” he said. Then he grinned and added, “Hell yes, Grant. Hell yes.”

“Dad, what’s going on at the Marion Farm?” Manda asked Grant one morning. The two of them were having a late breakfast in their cabin after everyone else had left.

“What are you talking about?” Grant asked, not very convincingly. He couldn’t lie to his kids. Well, not easily. He’d been lying to his whole family for weeks about what was going on out at the farm.

Manda put her fork down and looked straight at Grant. “C’mon, Dad,” Manda said. “You know what’s going on out there. The ‘rental team.’ You’re training a second team and going to rent it out to another town.” She rolled her eyes like Grant was stupid.

Wow. The rumor had taken off pretty well. Good.

“Oh, OK,” Grant said, acting like he was letting her in on a big secret. “Maybe there is a rental team. But you cannot—I mean strictly cannot —tell anyone about it, or that I just confirmed it. Understand? People’s lives are at stake. This is serious, Amanda.” He used Manda’s full name for effect.

She smiled. She loved being on the inside of things. “Does the rental team need people?” she asked.

Grant put his hand up and raised his voice so loud he was almost yelling. “No way! Absolutely not. You are not joining the rental team. Don’t even think about it.” That was the most absurd thing he’d heard in quite some time, especially from a smart girl like her with good judgment.

At first, Manda was startled by her dad’s loud reaction. Then she realized he was talking about her. She laughed and said, “Not me, Daddy. Jordan.”

That was Manda’s boyfriend. They were getting pretty serious, although Grant consciously tried not to know all the details. He was afraid he’d shoot the young man. And out at Pierce Point…Grant could actually get away with it.

“He will turn seventeen next week,” Manda said. “He is just doing dumb stuff now at the Grange.” Grant knew that Jordan was waiting for a spot on the gate guard. They had enough people and, at seventeen, they had more experienced people. Judgment was a critical factor for a gate guard; shooting too early could start a war. So Jordan was in a holding pattern to be a gate guard. He was working hard at the Grange by performing miscellaneous labor.