As he came up on the Grange and saw the Grange, he realized he had another problem: where to store the truck. Grant wanted it to remain a secret that they had all this food, and especially where it was located. This would make it harder for someone to steal. But it was too late to stop the word from spreading about the truck. The rumor mill would be on overdrive. Two dozen guards had seen the truck. Besides, if they hid it, people would accuse them of stealing the food.
No, the existence and location of the semi full of food needed to be totally transparent, which meant that hiding the truck somewhere wouldn’t work. Besides, the Grange was emerging as the headquarters with many assets to be heavily defended, like the medical team and, now, the semi of food. Grant quickly decided they would keep the semi at the Grange. Chip’s guards could secure it there. Besides, the political symbolism was perfect: Come to the Grange, be part of the community, and see all we have to offer those who cooperate with the community.
Racing to the Grange—well, “racing” on a moped—made Grant realize they needed to have a better alert system for mobilizing troops for the gate. They’d work on that. Grant had big thoughts like this constantly zooming through his mind. He was thinking so clearly it was spooky. He felt so alive. He was meant to do this.
Grant arrived at the Grange and pulled into the parking lot. He got off his moped and ran in to get some help. He explained what was going on and told someone to drive to his cabin and get Chip, and to tell him to command the guard of the truck. “Chip’ll know what to do,” Grant yelled to the person who was going to get him.
Grant was explaining to everyone what had happened and that no one could touch the food. He looked at the two guards who rode there in Gideon’s cab and, in front of everyone, told them they were authorized to shoot anyone who touched the truck. Grant had the padlock keys, but he didn’t tell anyone that. He asked Gideon for the keys to the ignition. He was happy to turn them over so no one would try to beat them out of him. Gideon was still a little leery of this gated white community he had just driven into.
Grant made sure people knew that Gideon was a welcomed guest. Grant said, “Mr. Armstrong here is a crime victim, a victim of attempted robbery, so please extend him every courtesy.” Grant wanted the first version of the rumor mill story to be “this guy got his stuff stolen and our guys rescued him.” He was conscious that every single thing he said would be repeated dozens of times, so he needed to be very careful to think of the impact of his words. This was serious business.
Then he had an idea. A pretty damned good one.
Chapter 119
Operation Head Fake
(May 12)
A crowd had gathered around the semi and the black stranger. Grant asked the assembled people, largely the Grange ladies and the medical staff, “Who here in Pierce Point has a semi-truck or trailer? Do we have any truck drivers out here who have their rigs parked at their house?”
“Doug Smithson out on Frog Lake Road,” one of the Grange ladies said. “I saw his rig there this morning.”
Grant motioned for Gideon to come over to him. He whispered something to Gideon, who laughed and nodded.
“OK,” Grant said, “slight change in plans. I need someone to drive me and the guards to the Smithson place. Gideon, you follow us in your truck. I need one person in the cab with Gideon who knows where the Smithsons live in case we get separated.” A Grange lady raised her hand and walked up to Gideon. They shook hands, which seemed strangely formal but normal at the same time.
They took off. Grant was in someone’s truck. They drove a few miles to the far eastern end of Pierce Point, to the Smithson place. Grant got out at the gate and motioned for the guards to keep an eye out for anyone who might have been following them. There were dogs. Grant waited until someone came out. It was a man with a shotgun. He looked like he’d been sleeping. Oh great, Grant thought. I’ve pissed off a tired man with a shotgun—and a guy I’m about to ask if I can have his truck. Not a great first impression.
Grant put his hands up and yelled, “Mr. Smithson? We need your help. I’m Grant Matson. I’m with the Pierce Point constables.”
The man seemed to recognize the term “constables.” He came up to Grant and looked at the semi idling on the road outside his gate. He noticed the guards. He seemed to recognize one of the guards. He lowered his shotgun and came over to Grant.
“I’m Doug Smithson. What do you want?” He was not happy to be awoken by men with guns.
“Do you have an empty trailer we could borrow for a little while?” Grant asked.
“For what?” Smithson asked.
Grant motioned for Gideon to come over. Grant explained that they had a semi-trailer full of food, which made Smithson smile, and that they needed to hook up Smithson’s empty semi-trailer and take it down to the gate.
Grant said, “We’re calling this Operation Head Fake.” Smithson smiled again.
Smithson asked, “So who owns the food?”
Grant said, “The government, I guess. But it’s ours now. You OK with that?”
“Hell yes,” Smithson said. “Those bastards have stolen from me for years. Do you know what I’ve paid in fuel taxes? I’m happy to help get a little back. Bastards.”
Subverting the government was so much easier when they’d been dicks to so many people, Grant realized.
Gideon and Smithson worked on the plan. Smithson had the room to switch the trailers on their trucks right there at his place. With Grant riding along, Gideon would drive his cab and the empty Smithson trailer back to the gate. Smithson would drive his cab and the trailer full of food back to the Grange, which would be protected by the guards.
“One more thing,” Gideon said as the trailers were switched. He looked at Smithson and asked, “You got some paperwork on this empty load?”
“Sure do,” Smithson said. He went back into the house and came out with some papers. “Looks like you got a legit empty load.”
Grant got on the CB in Gideon’s cab. He called the Grange and asked if Chip was there yet. He had just walked in. Grant said, in semi coded language, that Smithson and two guards would be coming to the Grange and that Chip was to command the guard of that truck. If Smithson didn’t get there in a half hour, Chip was to radio Grant on that same channel.
Grant wanted Smithson to go first and for Gideon to follow them. He basically trusted Smithson and the gate guards riding along, but not 100%. He wanted to watch them roll up to the Grange and for Chip to take over. Then, and only then, would Grant feel comfortable leaving the trailer full of food there. People would literally kill for that truck load of food—and probably would later that night when the attack came.
Smithson pulled into the Grange, and Chip, with full kit on, waved to Grant and gave him the thumbs up. Gideon and Grant kept going down the road toward the gate. It was actually going pretty well, so far.
As Gideon’s cab came up to the gate, the guards were puzzled. Dan ran up with his hands in the air, screaming, “What the hell?” Was Grant trying to return the truck and food?
Grant wasn’t going to get on the CB and tell them about Operation Head Fake. And he didn’t have a ham radio, although he probably wouldn’t have discussed the topic even on that radio.
He jumped out of the cab and motioned for Gideon to park the rig in plain sight of the gate. Dan and Rich ran up to Grant, with the Team close behind. It looked like the Team had all its extra gear there and had handed out some AKs and tactical shotguns to some of the new volunteers. Once again, Grant felt so alive.