They were just going to scout out things, just that. He promised Judith he would do his best to bring Jimmy, or Foster, as Manny called him, back safely.
Judith accepted that. What choice did she have? And while she waited for his return, she would pray.
Pray for the teenage boy who so quickly had come to mean so much to her.
Ten million people.
That was the estimate George threw out as to the loss of American’s lives so far, but, in truth, he believed the number to be much higher. It had to be.
Ten million. More Americans lost their lives in one day than in all the wars combined. Fewer Americans had died during the Spanish Flu outbreak of 1918.
Using a computer and PowerPoint, George projected a map for everyone to see.
Two days earlier he had sent scouts out on horseback to the north, south, east and west.
Based on what the scouts had reported Massachusetts had not been touched yet.
The war was being fought, at minimal levels, with minimal American troops, farther west and to the north.
It was clear cut that Agabarn was deep within occupied territory.
They could only assume the east was secured by the enemy because they controlled the beaches.
One person asked why the fighting and number of troops was minimal. George could only give a guess and suggested it was because something big had to be on the horizon. There had to be. He hoped there’d be.
Were there allied forces helping out?
Their allies, like the UK, were dealing with their own destruction. Although by what was being picked up, they weren’t invaded.
Only the United States had been.
Then the big question came to George, “Do we know who invaded?”
The media blackout and coded radio transmissions made that question hard to respond to.
Hating to just say ‘No.’ George informed everyone that one of the scouts had spoken to an American soldier and the soldier referred to the enemy as the ‘Ranuelans.’
That was all the scout had learned before he was told he had to leave the area.
The scout told the soldier about their town and people there, and then returned. He could have taken a ride with the American forces to a safe camp. It was offered to him, but he had declined.
“Ranuelans?” a man asked. “What the hell are Ranuelans?”
“Has to be a combination of names,” said another. “You know, like the tabloids do for celebrity romances.”
Harry started thinking about it and breaking it down. It was as much a puzzle to him as the rock was to Tyler.
Then her voice emerged from the back of the room. “I don’t know who the second party is,” Lana stated. “But think about it. I was in the media, though fashion. When we gave code names, the first two or three letters belonged to the first party, in this instance that would be R…A…N. My guess would be Iran. We put those harsh sanctions on them. Someone said that the invaders want our president to step down. We tried to get their president to step down. The second half of the name, I’m clueless, but I’m guessing the bigger part is Iran. You realize their army is almost twice the size of ours.”
Someone else spelled the last portion and with the letters guessed it could possibly be Venezuela.
Everyone laughed.
The man who made the suggestion didn’t think it was funny. “They have two million soldiers. I saw that on the news a few weeks ago. All are rebels. We tried to oust their dictator. They claimed we incited a war there, too.”
“Wait a second!” An older guy called out, “Venezuela and Iran? What the hell is taking us so long to kick their asses?”
“Seven million soldiers,” Lana stated. “A combined force and my guess is they have North Korea helping them, would give them over 9 million soldiers. That’s a lot of manpower. Have we thought of that? If the combined forces send only one third of their forces here, they will have matched our army man for man.”
George added, “We don’t own the air yet. But when we do, I believe that’s when we’ll have the advantage. It’ll still be tough. They marched in and took three states.”
The meeting continued on. The identity of the invading enemy was still only a guess. Those in Agabarn were deep in a media blackout.
Once the meeting was over and the pudding had been served as desert, two of the women took the children to The Tap for arts and crafts and some karaoke.
One hundred and thirty-three people remained in the fire hall.
Each one of them was waiting to learn the tactical plan.
And that’s just what they were about to develop.
They wanted a plan in place in case the enemy invaded or struck Agabarn. Everyone felt that once the US started fighting back and pushing the enemy from the front lines, the front lines would move east.
It was inevitable.
The citizens and refugees in Agabarn could run or they could stay and fight.
There was no question about what they would choose to do.
An escape route was planned for the children.
Each person would have a post, be issued a weapon and told where go.
Some would have explosives.
It was an army of farmers, just like the revolutionary war.
Harry was on distribution, should fighting break out. His eyesight wasn’t the best anymore. He probably couldn’t fire a weapon accurately, and he certainly couldn’t toss a homemade grenade, but he could pass out things and dictate where people went.
Folks were lining up to register for duties based on their strengths. Harry was one of those people registering strengths and deciding if they were better on a gun, grenade or explosives. Or would they be better at just helping evacuate those who couldn’t fight.
After they had registered strengths, people were going to stick around, clean weapons, and work on separating ammo.
A full fight was planned.
Harry was surprised to see Lana in the line. She was three down the line when he noticed her. When she arrived at his desk, she smiled. It was a tired smile.
“This is a surprise,” Harry said. “Are you registering a strength?”
Lana nodded and sat down across from Harry.
“Where’s Ben?”
“He went to The Tap. He opted out of dinner and the meeting.”
“But he was okay with you being here?”
“I told him I was dying for spaghetti.”
Harry laughed. “And you stayed for the meeting.”
“Yes. He believed I was going back to the school to rest.”
Harry leaned back in the chair. “What’s going on?”
Lana folded her hands. “I come from a very rich family. When I was ten I had been shooting for a year. I took highest shooting marks in the junior competition. I was the youngest ever to hold that title. I held the championship for six years until Liam Wayne snatched it from me.”
“Wow,” Harry said. “Rifle? Shotgun?”
“You name it, I’m good with it. My father was president of the local NRA.”
Harry whistled. “Wait a second. Ben said you don’t believe in guns.”
Lana nodded. “I stopped believing in the right for every man to carry a weapon when some man with road rage unloaded a clip into my father. Harry, this is my country, despite what Ben says. I live here, I reaped its benefits and I’ll be damned if I am going to stand idly by or run to Canada without fighting for this country.”
Harry smiled. “What about Ben?”
“I love my husband. But I’m not going to run. I’m not.”
“Does he know this?”
Lana shook her head. “Not yet. He will. I’ll tell him. Hopefully, he’ll stay and fight, too. That’s what we have to do that’s what we should do.”