Authors: Rich Goldhaber
After dinner Jessie, Vince, and I contacted
the soldiers at the dairy farm. Their defensive positions were set up, and the drone showed no unusual activity. They would call if there was any
change in status.
Vince then called MacDill. Major Connors
said he was enjoying a fresh cup of coffee with
some cookies Beth baked for the MacDill people.
He and Private Duncan had been monitoring the
satellite images just east of the city, and immediately following today’s landings of the two airplanes
and helicopter, there was considerable activity. It
was too soon to ascertain what exactly was happening. His scouts would know more tomorrow.
I asked Monroe what he was thinking.
“They’re getting ready to move out. The only question in my mind is in which direction.”
Lieutenant Monroe set up his satellite lap
top computer, and a minute later we were looking
at the area just east of Tampa. The thugs had set
up residence in an apartment complex just west of
Interstate 75. There was considerable activity in
the parking lot. It certainly looked like people were
loading up cars and trucks.
Jessie, who was staring at the pictures,
suddenly said stop. She pointed to a person in a
red shirt. “Can you zoom in on that person?”
Vince Monroe zoomed in on the man in the
red shirt. Jessie said, “It’s Brad Davis. I recognized
the red shirt.”
She was right; it was Brad Davis, and his
presence complicated things. “If he’s with the bad
guys, then they know there are things for them to
take right here on the campus.”
Lieutenant Monroe looked at his map of the
area on his computer. “Tomorrow morning we’ll
have a few more updates on their disposition. Our
satellites have good infrared imagery. We’ll have
updates all night long. If they make a move in our
direction, I’ll alert the dairy farm. If they do come
in our direction, it’ll probably be here, not the dairy
farm. If they’re coming here, I’ll redeploy my resources at the dairy farm. We’ll move them down
here.”
A minute later we were looking down at a
satellite image of our area. “Brad Davis knows
we’re armed. If he influences the people he’s with,
they may be very cautious. Vince, if you knew we
were waiting for them, how would you attack?”
Vince Monroe thought for a moment and
pointed to the map. “I’d set up a diversion and
then attack from the backside of the campus.” He
pointed to an access road running north and south
just to the east of the campus. “I’d move my main
force here. I’d then walk in from the east and attack the apartment complex from the east. I’d use
only a small diversionary attack at the main entrance.”
“We’ll set up a first line of defense just like
we talked about, but only with a third of our force.
I’ll also park a bunch of trucks over by this minor
entrance on Ben Griffin Parkway. That way, they
only have one road to access the campus. We’ll deploy the rest of our force in trucks near our apartments. They can quickly deploy to meet wherever
the main point of the attack occurs. As soon as
they get close, we’ll send up a drone to monitor
their movements.”
Lieutenant Monroe answered, “We have an
advantage, because we know what they’re doing,
and they don’t know that we know. If we send up
Blaine, we’ll lose our advantage, and that’s an advantage I don’t want to lose. The drone is silent; I
doubt they’ll figure out they’re being followed.”
Beth prepared a large batch of scrambled
eggs for our resident’s breakfast. A small portion of
eggs and some fresh orange juice started my day.
Vince interrupted my meal and wanted to immediately meet with the governors. He showed us the
latest images of the Tampa area. “These pictures
were taken at 8:46 a.m. Their parking lot is empty,
and this one picture shows them heading south on
Route 75. I’m guessing they’ll arrive down here in
about ninety minutes. Private Duncan estimated
there’re about one hundred of them. I’ve called Private Beckham at the dairy farm, and they are presently in a truck positioned about twenty minutes
northeast of here. That way if the bad guys come
here or go to the farm, we’ll still have resources in
the area. I’ll launch the drone in a few minutes.”
Stan had found a loud ship’s bell that we
now used to call everyone to an emergency meeting. In ten minutes, most of the adults were sitting
in the dining area. Lieutenant Monroe, dressed in
full combat gear looked at the group.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this morning a
group of about one hundred bad guys left the
Tampa area. We believe they are headed here. In a
few minutes I will launch a drone to monitor their
position. Given the latest intelligence assessment,
we believe their attack may come in several places.
We will deploy a third of our force in pre-arranged
positions in the woods on both sides of the main
access road. Private Norton’s team will lead that
force.”
Private Norton stood up and waved to the
group. Monroe continued, “The other defenders will
be positioned in trucks on the road near the North
Lake Village. As soon as we ascertain where their
main force will strike, we’ll move the other defenders to that sector. I will be in charge of the main
force. If they are headed here, then I will reposition
our forces defending the dairy farm and deploy
them just east of the campus.
“We have the element of surprise. We will
be victorious. I have placed maps of the campus on
the table over here. I have divided the community
into sectors designated with different letters. If I
order you to move to sector “D” you can look at
your map to see where that is. There will be five
professional soldiers here to help defend the community, but you all know how to use your weapons. Together, we can do a lot of damage. Are there
any questions?”
Patty stood up. “I suggest we have a speedy
trial this afternoon, and the jury can agree on a
fitting sentence if they are found guilty.”
Mary stood up. “I don’t know what’s going
to happen here, but I’m guessing there will be a lot
of injured people. Paul, Phyllis, and I will be in the
emergency operating room to take care of the injured. Remember, get the wounded to the emergency room as soon as possible; every second
counts.”
With no further questions, the children
were brought to their classrooms under protest,
and Lieutenant Monroe walked over to a small catapult launch apparatus and checked in with one of
his men. The man operating the system hit an icon
on his laptop computer. A signal was transmitted
up to a satellite and then back down to the drone.
Communications were established, and the soldier
said, “Ready to launch Lieutenant.”
The soldier touched another icon and the
slingshot catapult launched the miniature plane
into the sky. The soldier manipulated a small joystick and the drone rose into the bright blue sky
and headed north. Lieutenant Monroe asked the
soldier to execute the search plan.
I studied the laptop computer. A camera
mounted under the airplane was directed ahead of
the plane, and I could see Interstate 75, and as the
plane reached 1000 feet, the pilot followed Interstate 75 north searching for the caravan of thugs.
He made contact fifteen minutes later. The group
of about fifty cars was a little north of Punta Gorda
and headed south.
Monroe immediately called the soldiers positioned near the dairy farm. “Private Beckham,
they’re headed here. I want you to put the pedal to
the metal and get over here as quick as you can.
Position yourself as we discussed last night.”
Monroe screamed, “Private Norton, take one
third of the residents up to the main entrance.
We’ve got about thirty minutes before the fireworks
start.”
Private Norton motioned to a group of residents near two trucks and ordered them to climb
aboard. Norton and another soldier were carrying
cases containing what Monroe said were modern
day bazookas. Norton’s team left for the front entrance, and ten minutes later he called the Lieutenant. They were all in position, lying in wait on
both sides of the entrance road.
Other residents, all of whom had their
weapons, were now loaded into three U-Haul
trucks, and ten minutes later Private Baker said,
“Sir, their caravan has split up, about one third are
moving south on Ben Griffin Parkway and the rest
have turned east on Alico Road.”
Okay soldiers; let’s move to Sector F on the
double. As our three trucks moved on the road to
the northeast corner of the campus, Monroe kept
in contact with his people. They were all now
linked into a common communication channel.
The dairy farm soldiers contacted Monroe and indicated they were now in position.
Our truck screeched to a stop, and everyone jumped out of the back end. Monroe gathered
everyone around him. He held up his map. “Their
main force has stopped at the end of a dirt road
about a mile east of here. They’ll be coming in on
foot and moving alongside the edge of the lake
which extends like a finger just east of where we’re
standing. I have positioned the soldiers from the
dairy farm in a gully behind their forces. I want all
of you to form up in a battle line behind this group
of palm trees. Take positions behind cover. Wait for
my signal before you begin to fire. There will be
gunfire from the main entrance, but don’t worry
about that. It’s a diversionary attack. This is where
their main force will attack. The dairy farm team
will follow the bad guys, so make sure you don’t
shoot at any of them. They will all be wearing yellow bands on their helmets.”
We all deployed along what would become a
skirmish line. I looked around at our people, and I
couldn’t help but think of our country’s revolutionary war and the citizen soldiers who defeated the
British. Jessie moved behind a tree with her quiver
of arrows and her bow. I wondered why she had
refused the rifle. How could her weapon ever compete with a modern rifle?
We were all hiding behind trees or in the
tall wild grass. I could see a group of about sixty
men and a few women carrying rifles moving slowly
along the southeast corner of North Lake.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of two loud
explosions near the front entrance. The diversionary attack had begun, and the bad guys were undoubtedly surprised to find themselves in an ambush. The other attackers hearing the unexpected
explosions and gunfire began running along the
lake’s bank toward our position. When the attackers were almost in front of us, Monroe screamed.
“Fire now! Give them everything you’ve got.”
At the first salvo, two dozen thugs fell to the
ground. The others, not fully understanding what
had happened, began running back in the direction of their cars. The dairy farm soldiers, who had
been trailing the enemy, now cut down the remaining enemy combatants before they had a chance to
escape.
Monroe screamed cease fire, and then there
was this eerie silence. He spoke into his telephone.
“Private Beckham, look for any wounded and be
careful. Private Norton, report please.”
Norton replied, “All enemy combatants are
taken care of; there are no survivors. One of the
residents has been wounded. As we speak he is
being driven over to the emergency room. I have set
up sentries to look for any others Sir. How about
you guys?”
I couldn’t believe it was over. Some of us
walked over to see if any of the enemy was still
alive. A man was lying on the ground face up with
an arrow in his gut. He was still alive, but there
was no way he would survive. He was trying to pull
the arrow from his belly but he died before he
could remove the deadly arrow. At least there was
no doubt about who had killed this man. Jessie
stood over him and pulled the arrow out of his
body.
Beckham reported, “Lieutenant Monroe,
there are no survivors, and all our soldiers are AOkay Sir.”
Lieutenant Monroe then focused his attention on his team of citizen soldiers. “Well done all
of you. Now let’s remove these dead bodies from
the battlefield.”
Stan explained it would be easier if he just
brought over the Bobcat and buried them right
here. Monroe thought it was a good idea. He then
spoke to Private Baker. “Private, do you see any
stragglers or anyone hiding in their cars?”
Jessie and I took one of the trucks back to
the apartment complex, and then she and I drove
over to the emergency room. Jessie quickly
changed into some surgical scrubs, and after
washing her hands and gloving up, she walked into
the operating room.
Standing outside, I heard Mary say Donny
Harper was on the table with a bullet wound to his
right thigh. Mary spoke to her patient. “Donny,
you’ve got a bullet wound to your right thigh. It’s
not life threatening, but we’re going to have to put
you to sleep so we can sew you up. Don’t worry;
you’re going to be fine.”
Mary injected a drug into an injection site
on the IV drip she had started, and Donny immediately closed his eyes. Mary, with Paul’s help
placed an airway tube down Donny’s throat and
then began administering anesthesia through a
mask she placed over Donny’s face. Jessie once
again was in charge of all his vital signs. Mary held
a scalpel in her hand, and after confirming Donny
was under, she opened up his leg with a single
slice of the blade. The tourniquet above the bullet’s
entrance site prevented excessive bleeding.