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Those gathered in the command tent looked from one to another. The white-hot anger over what the Chairman had done to their loved ones was now so much stronger than before. They and the people of Oneida had been conned by a shyster.

“If that weren’t enough,” the contact continued, “there are only forty-seven stars representing the states instead of fifty and E Pluribus Unum is spelled wrong. Looks to me like whoever made this either did it in one hell of a hurry or thought we’d be too stupid to know the difference.”

For some reason that last part stung the most. As though they were being mocked and insulted all over again.

“Thank you, John Hancock. Good job.”

“Patriot One, just doing my duty. I do have some bad news however. The agent who retrieved the papers was captured during the mission. From what I’ve been able to discern, it looks like they’ve been scheduled for public execution sometime tomorrow.”

John caught a strange shift in Rodriguez’s expression, one that almost looked like guilt. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Rodriguez said. “Is there anything you can do to help?”

“Negative, Patriot One. As it stands I’m preparing to vacate my post as soon as we’re done here.”

“Have you been compromised?”

“That’s still uncertain, but I think the wisest course of action would be to destroy my equipment and rendezvous with you at—”

A pause and then a sudden burst of static.

“Please say again, John Hancock, you’re breaking up.”

Another rush of static mixed with angry voices. It sounded like Edward was holding down the mic during a struggle. A deafening boom sounded before the signal went dead.

All assembled looked at one another. They knew now without a doubt that the Chairman and the cronies he’d brought into Oneida were con artists or maybe worse, but gaining that knowledge had cost them their only window into the town.

Chapter 37

“We gotta get in there and help him,” Moss shouted.

“Rushing in hastily isn’t going to help Edward,” Marshall scolded his lieutenant. “He knew the risks. So too did the agent he enlisted.”

That funny look flashed across Rodriguez’s features again and this time John didn’t think it was just empathy. The radio operator was hiding something.

“We still have our mountaintop observation post,” John told them. “At least we can use that to see if reinforcements show up. The major problem we have is, even with the new AKs, we still don’t have enough men.” He couldn’t help thinking of Willow Creek and the friends he’d lost there. “I’ve seen what happens when two evenly matched forces do battle and more often than not both of them get decimated.”

The radio came to life again and this time everyone hushed. The signal was garbled and hard to make out.

“John Hancock, is that you, over?” Rodriguez said, clutching the mic in a desperate grip. “You’re coming in very faint. Check your signal strength.”

After a tense moment. “Is that better, over?”

“Reading you loud and clear.”

The voice on the other end was different. Clearly this wasn’t their contact in Oneida and the mood in the command tent began to flounder.

“What’s your call sign?”

“This is Captain Brian Mitchell, 278th Armored Cav Regiment. There aren’t many Americans broadcasting these days. Good to hear your voice.”

Moss looked skeptical at the mention of armored vehicles. “Didn’t the EMP destroy just about everything the army had?”

“Tanks, Bradleys and Humvees, among others,” John told him, “were hardened against the effects of an EMP blast. But the real challenge is delivering the fuel and parts to keep them running.”

Rodriguez got back on the radio and explained to Captain Mitchell who they were.

“Keep your strength up, boys,” came the Captain’s enigmatic reply. “We may need you up at the front soon.”

Rodriguez shook his head. “Say again. Which front are you referring to?”

“Well, I guess you haven’t heard. We’re at war. A combined force of Chinese, North Korean and Russian troops landed on the West Coast about two months ago and we’ve been sending everything we have to slow down their advance.”

John and the others were positively stunned. Foreign troops on US soil. Nothing like it had happened since the war of 1812.

But there was more shocking news.

“What about aid from the European Union?” Rodriguez asked.

Mitchell laughed. “They were hit just as hard as we were. Seems like this new Axis of Evil took aim to conquer the continental US while leaving Europe to thin itself out through anarchy and social chaos.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Rodriguez told him. “We’re all sitting here with our jaws on the floor.”

“I can’t blame you,” Captain Mitchell said. “But there’s more bad news if you’re ready for it. Since that EMP hit, Russian agents have been taking over towns and cities all over the country, claiming to be presidential appointees. Those tricky Slavs are now playing havoc with our logistics, lemme tell you.”

“What is your current position?” Rodriguez asked.

“That’s classified. All I can say is we’re moving west through Tennessee. A last defensive line is being drawn up along the Mississippi river. If we lose that then we lose this war.”

For a moment John was utterly speechless. He remembered hearing about troops moving west, but he’d assumed they were heading to restore law and order to some of the big cities.

Marshall was pacing back and forth in the hot confines of the command tent. “There must be some strategic importance to Oneida, or else the Russians wouldn’t have bothered with it.”

The answer formed in John’s head as clear as a summer’s day. “They need the rail yard,” he said and the words fired out all on their own. “With the roads piled with cars, what better way to control the movement of large numbers of troops and materiel than with the rails?”

“You might be right,” Marshall said, running a hand through his beard.

John’s spirits rose. “A single Bradley fighting vehicle is all we would need to swing the odds in our favor and take back the town,” John told them. “Rodriguez, explain the situation to him, that we have a fifth columnist in control of a major rail hub and that we need support to recapture the city.”

Rodriguez looked to Marshall who nodded. “Do it.”

“Captain Mitchell, this is Patriot One. Are you there, over?” A moment of silence followed. “Captain Mitchell, are you there, over?”

When there was still no response, Rodriguez glanced down at his equipment. “I think our signal’s being jammed,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Marshall spat.

Rodriguez switched the receiver on, producing a loud pulsating signal.

“They must have done it after they saw Edward’s radio,” John said. “The Chairman wants to keep us isolated. It’s the main reason our forces have been pushed back to the Mississippi. They can’t effectively communicate with one another.”

“Oh, God, this is a nightmare,” Moss said, dropping his head into his hands. “Didn’t we beat these guys during the Cold War?”

John shook his head. “We did, but that was before Putin’s ambitions to reinstate the former Soviet empire became apparent and before he, China and North Korea apparently found common cause.”