Glen Tate - 299 Days - The Community

“Curt, what are your thoughts?” Rich asked.

“Well, I can keep in contact with the outside world with my various equipment,” he said, not wanting to bore everyone with the details of his various radios. He could literally talk to the space station with his gear.

“Curt has plenty of handheld radios that we can use. Isn’t that right, Curt?” Rich said. It was obvious they had talked before the meeting. Good.

“Oh yes,” Curt said, “I have about a half dozen handhelds that operate on the VHR and UHF ham bands. They’re easy to use. Very good reception, even with the highlands up here and the beach down there. Especially when we bounce them off the Frederickson repeater.”

Rich looked at the Team again. “Some of you have CBs, too. Raise your hand if you have one.” About a third of the room raised their hands, including the Team. “Great. CBs are fine for short range communication and getting info from nearby people outside of Pierce Point. They aren’t secure, of course, but I doubt the bad guys will be monitoring all 40 CB channels to hear us. Besides, all the stuff we need to have secure will be done on the ham bands and then we can relay it in some simple code via CBs.”

That reminded Rich, “Oh, if any of you are going into town anytime soon, please try to buy all the CBs and antennas you can. It would really help us out. If the stores are out, which is likely, then don’t worry about it. I just wanted everyone to know how valuable CBs are right now.”

Rich waited for another question. There wasn’t one. “OK, now we come to personnel,” he said. “This is the most important part. Equipment is great, but if we don’t have good people, none of this will work.”

Rich pointed to Curt. “We need lots of people with diverse talents, like Curt here. He isn’t prior military or law enforcement, but you can see how valuable he will be. So regular civilians are very much needed.”

Rich paused. “With that in mind, military and law enforcement experience is a definite plus. So who here is prior military?” About a quarter of the hands went up. Rich pointed at the first person he saw and said, “What branch, what did you do, and when did you get out?”

Men and a few women around the room described their service. All branches were covered. Lots of Army, but it was the largest branch. Some Air Force and a couple Marines, including Mark. Quite a bit of Navy and even two Coast Guard. None of the people in the room were active duty or in the Guard or Reserves. Two people said they had neighbors in the Army National Guard and one said her neighbor was in the Air Force Reserve, but that they weren’t at the meeting.

The veterans had done many different jobs in the military. Four had combat specialties in the Army: two infantry, a scout, and armor. Another, a Marine rifleman named Ryan McDonald, was a combat veteran from Afghanistan.

John raised his hand and said, “U.S. Navy. Machinist. Got out in 1968.”

Mark said he was a former Marine, a sniper, and left in 1975. He grabbed his belly and said, “I ain’t in Marine shape anymore. I couldn’t lie in the forest for two days and make a shot at 800 yards anymore, either.”

When it came to Chip’s turn to talk, he said, “I’m Chip. Army. Supply sergeant but saw some combat in Southeast Asia. Got out in 1970.” He didn’t mention the part about building ARs for a living and having a few dozen “assault rifles” in Grant’s basement. He knew it wasn’t necessary to mention that now. There was still too much at stake; too many unknowns. Not even to mention that Grant was a wanted man. Blend in whenever possible, Chip would always say. Be the gray man; a fighter or resistor who doesn’t attract attention so he can get the job done.

One veteran was particularly interesting. Rich smiled when it came to this guy’s turn and said to him, “Sergeant Morgan, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

The man, in his early forties with black hair and in great shape said, “I’m Dan Morgan, formerly of the United States Air Force. I was in Security Forces, which used to be called Security Police. We defended air bases and other sensitive installations, and conducted counterterrorism. I was MWD, or Military Working Dog. A dog handler. I retired as a Senior Master Sergeant. I am currently—or, I guess, formerly—a volunteer for the Sheriff’s Department’s K9 team. I say formerly since I don’t think there is a Sheriff’s Department anymore.”

Dan paused. “Anyway, I train their dogs and kennel them here. I have several great dogs.” Dan smiled, “Defending an air base or an area like Pierce Point, it’s all the same. I got some tricks up my sleeve that Uncle Sam taught me.” He was beaming. He was so happy to show off his skills and save his friends and neighbors in the process.

Rich said, “Dan and I know each other from Oath Keepers.” No need to hide that anymore, Rich thought. He was off the force and, besides, the cops had enough on their plates. Arresting political people wasn’t high on their list of things to do. Rich smiled, “Welcome to the Security Committee, Dan.” Rich and Dan had obviously talked before the meeting.

Nice, Grant thought. He was feeling like he was in good hands. Could this set up get any better?

Rich asked, “OK, any law enforcement, past or present, here?” Grant winced at the “present” part; he was technically wanted, or whatever POI meant. He was hoping there were no cops in the room.

Four hands went up. One guy said, “I was a reserve Sheriff’s Deputy in the 80s but I haven’t done it in a long time. I wouldn’t count myself as ‘law enforcement.’”

A man said, “My neighbor is currently a county sheriff’s deputy. I haven’t seen him in about a week.”

Another guy, who looked like Jimmy Buffet, said, “I’m Dick Abbott. I’m a retired LA County deputy. Out on disability. Lost most of my hearing in a shootout twenty years ago. Don’t know that I’ll be much help, but I’ll do whatever is asked of me.”

The third hand was a woman in her fifties. “I’m Linda Rodriguez. I am retired from Seattle Police Department. I was a dispatcher.”

“Great,” Rich said. “Glad to have all of you.” He was, indeed, happy to have so many veterans and some law enforcement. “OK, any other people who have some unique skills?”

There were two nurses and an EMT. “Great. We’ll definitely need medical skills,” Rich said. Mark and John looked at Grant for him to announce that they had an ER doctor out at Pierce Point. Grant slightly shook his head to them. He wanted to talk to Lisa before he announced her occupation. He didn’t know why she wouldn’t want to be the neighborhood doctor, but he just thought he should ask her if she wanted a part-time job out there.

“There’s Randy Greene, the foot doctor,” someone said. “But he’s not out here. Yet.”

Rich said, “OK, any other skills out there that will help us out?”

When Rich asked if anyone else had unique skills, the Team looked at Grant. Grant whispered to Mark, “Introduce me and I’ll take it from there.” Mark nodded.

Mark stood up. “My neighbor here, Grant, has some guys to introduce. These guys are solid, I can tell you from personal experience.” That was a big boost from a local.

All eyes were on Grant. He stood up and said, “I’m Grant…” Should he give out his last name? What if someone looked him up on the POI list? Well, it would get out some time and there weren’t exactly any cops around with time on their hands to take him in. He paused and thought.

Grant decided right then and there that he would die with his boots on. If they wanted to come get him, he’d fight it out, so he might as well give out his last name now. He was betting his life on the fact that there wasn’t any more law enforcement left.