Story Market Day
- Thread starter ComCamGuy
- Start date
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Their motorcycle helmets were strapped on top of the packs on the back of the bikes. This morning’s ride would be with their combat helmets on. These were fitted with the mounts for their night vision goggles and compatible with their tactical radios. They had gone over the bikes carefully. They were looking for anything out of place, not strapped down well, or showing light. They also were repositioning items to make a transition to combat easier. After the previous two days, all illusions of benign safety was shattered. They repositioned some mounts on the handlebars made to carry rifles on ATVs in a way long thought out to carry their long guns so they could be grabbed at an instant’s notice. Magazines were checked and rechecked. Mounted weapon lights had their batteries and IR filters checked. All of this was now felt necessary.
Once everything was as squared away as they thought they could, they rolled up the garage door and headed out. There was a trail access point at the southern tip of the forest that led to a network of old logging roads which were primarily used by the Park Rangers and prohibited for recreational 4x4s and ATVs. This was one of the routes Doug had shown them. He had given them permission to use it to access the navigation training locations. Kara, Garen and Bekka had taken advantage of this permission to work on some old school rally driving, once they had shown Doug what they wanted to do. Doug’s main issue was they had to stay low key, and also invite him to play sometimes as well. The four of them had worked the logging roads and fire trails back and forth until they had a decent map build within the forest. The one they were about to use would run about 120 miles, counting all the circumnavigation of obstacles, streams, ravines and other elements. It was identified on their maps as Bugle. They figured, with overloaded bikes, trying to stay fairly quiet, six hours should be good, 8 hours if there are problems.
“Alright, Kara. I think we are ready. Let’s stay focused and stay safe. Slow and steady. Let’s not have a repeat of Africa.”
“Africa was not my fault. You turned it into a race, not me”
“Ok, Fine. Keep me in check, and I’ll do the same. You ready to go?”
“Waiting on you.”
Alright, let me call Bekka real quick.”
He went up to the second floor and keyed his radio.
“ATC, this is Briar Flight, Spike 53 and Faith 27. “
After a few calls, he got an answer.
“Briar Flight, this is ATC.”
“ATC, Briar Flight entering Bugle Approach pattern at terminus, anticipate front lit arrival.”
“Copy Briar Flight, Bugle Approach, front lit arrival.
“Briar Flight Out”
Garen returned to his bike. They fired them up and moved out at almost an idle, creeping up into the forest, and the path home.
Once everything was as squared away as they thought they could, they rolled up the garage door and headed out. There was a trail access point at the southern tip of the forest that led to a network of old logging roads which were primarily used by the Park Rangers and prohibited for recreational 4x4s and ATVs. This was one of the routes Doug had shown them. He had given them permission to use it to access the navigation training locations. Kara, Garen and Bekka had taken advantage of this permission to work on some old school rally driving, once they had shown Doug what they wanted to do. Doug’s main issue was they had to stay low key, and also invite him to play sometimes as well. The four of them had worked the logging roads and fire trails back and forth until they had a decent map build within the forest. The one they were about to use would run about 120 miles, counting all the circumnavigation of obstacles, streams, ravines and other elements. It was identified on their maps as Bugle. They figured, with overloaded bikes, trying to stay fairly quiet, six hours should be good, 8 hours if there are problems.
“Alright, Kara. I think we are ready. Let’s stay focused and stay safe. Slow and steady. Let’s not have a repeat of Africa.”
“Africa was not my fault. You turned it into a race, not me”
“Ok, Fine. Keep me in check, and I’ll do the same. You ready to go?”
“Waiting on you.”
Alright, let me call Bekka real quick.”
He went up to the second floor and keyed his radio.
“ATC, this is Briar Flight, Spike 53 and Faith 27. “
After a few calls, he got an answer.
“Briar Flight, this is ATC.”
“ATC, Briar Flight entering Bugle Approach pattern at terminus, anticipate front lit arrival.”
“Copy Briar Flight, Bugle Approach, front lit arrival.
“Briar Flight Out”
Garen returned to his bike. They fired them up and moved out at almost an idle, creeping up into the forest, and the path home.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
“ATC, this is Briar Flight, Spike 53 and Faith 27. “
“ATC, this is Briar Flight, Spike 53 and Faith 27. “
I wasn’t sure how many times it had repeated, but I fumbled for the mike. My brain was trying to jump into gear.
“Briar Flight, this is ATC.”
“ATC, Briar Flight entering Bugle Approach pattern at terminus, anticipate front lit arrival.”
They were together and entering the Bugle Trail down by the bottom of the park. I had hoped they were farther along than that. What happened? Why were they moving so slowly? They said ‘front lit arrival’. That would make it around sunset, since the trail up by the house would have them pointed almost due west, into the setting sun.
“Copy Briar Flight, Bugle Approach, front lit arrival.
I wanted to know so much more. My brain screamed for information it wasn’t getting, but at least I know they are still together and headed my way. I can’t just go back to sleep. I don’t know what to do. What would Garen do? I know, go to the hot tub and think. If I can’t sleep, I can at least rest the body.
I went out the back door into the little solarium we had on the back of the house. In it was our hot tub. This is where we relax and try and work the aches out of our bones and minds. It felt weird to hang a war belt off of the towel rack by the hot tub. Welcome to the new now, Jenny Wick.
“ATC, this is Briar Flight, Spike 53 and Faith 27. “
I wasn’t sure how many times it had repeated, but I fumbled for the mike. My brain was trying to jump into gear.
“Briar Flight, this is ATC.”
“ATC, Briar Flight entering Bugle Approach pattern at terminus, anticipate front lit arrival.”
They were together and entering the Bugle Trail down by the bottom of the park. I had hoped they were farther along than that. What happened? Why were they moving so slowly? They said ‘front lit arrival’. That would make it around sunset, since the trail up by the house would have them pointed almost due west, into the setting sun.
“Copy Briar Flight, Bugle Approach, front lit arrival.
I wanted to know so much more. My brain screamed for information it wasn’t getting, but at least I know they are still together and headed my way. I can’t just go back to sleep. I don’t know what to do. What would Garen do? I know, go to the hot tub and think. If I can’t sleep, I can at least rest the body.
I went out the back door into the little solarium we had on the back of the house. In it was our hot tub. This is where we relax and try and work the aches out of our bones and minds. It felt weird to hang a war belt off of the towel rack by the hot tub. Welcome to the new now, Jenny Wick.
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ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Allyson felt a little strange when she woke up. She was trying to not panic over the whole situation, but after being here for two days, the whole “hide in the woods tactical Tina routine seemed a bit paranoid. She had rummaged in the back of the Explorer and found some old sweats, tennis shoes and a t shirt. This was more comfortable and less suspicious looking. She still had her concealed carry on her, but her warbelt, along with the plate carrier and heavier stuff was in the back seat. She was backed into a small stand of pine trees a short way off of a fire road. She was feeling the whole panic vibe when she first drove here, but she wasn’t sure who she was hiding from now. She was a highly trained former SWAT cop, and packing quite a bit of firepower if it was necessary, but this wasn’t Afghanistan or Iraq, this was America.
The other side of the equation was the experience and backgrounds of the people she worked with, whatever they were not that they ever told her really, was placing them into a reactionary mindset. This could either be truly justified and she just didn’t see it, or it could just be their default reaction level. Either way, they seemed to still want her around. They could have said, “Tsunami, we are closing shop, check back in 6 months” Instead, they have tried to link back up and help her.
Reality Check Allyson: She had nowhere to go, no one to help her other than them unless she wanted to join the refugee club with all the others back there, and someone was trying to look out for her. Until things stabilized, she may as well stick around for the ride.
The other side of the equation was the experience and backgrounds of the people she worked with, whatever they were not that they ever told her really, was placing them into a reactionary mindset. This could either be truly justified and she just didn’t see it, or it could just be their default reaction level. Either way, they seemed to still want her around. They could have said, “Tsunami, we are closing shop, check back in 6 months” Instead, they have tried to link back up and help her.
Reality Check Allyson: She had nowhere to go, no one to help her other than them unless she wanted to join the refugee club with all the others back there, and someone was trying to look out for her. Until things stabilized, she may as well stick around for the ride.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
The start of the day’s ride was nerve wracking but uneventful. They were able to make decent time in spite of overloaded Adventure bikes trying to tiptoe through areas more suited to nimble little dirt bikes. The terrain wasn’t helped by the lack of depth perception using the Night Vision Goggles. Every distance had to be measured and evaluated, bit by bit as they approached it. In some places a tip over due to miscalculation could be lethal, like a 400 foot fall down a ravine. Other times it was a simple route across a meadow. Both riders were relieved when there was enough daylight they could transition back to their eyes and put the goggles away.
They did this at a small clearing where they could take a break and reload their water bladders and empty their own bladders. During this stop, Garen also called Allyson on the radio to get more detailed location data. This he cross-referenced with the map book in the bike. It turns out that she was near one of the trails they had scouted frequently with Doug. An idea began forming in his head on how to meet up and bring her to the house, without the obvious traffic on the road, the very thing they were traveling through the woods to avoid.
He pitched his idea to Kara, who had some mods to suggest, which also made it better. This led to him telling Bekka of the need for her assistance later this evening for the operation. While Bekka was thrilled to hear his voice, she was a little less excited about the night activity. Garen had figured this might be the best and safest way, though and was wanting to do it tonight while the zombies were still in a state of disbelief and shock. He looked over at Kara and fired up the radio.
“ATC, this is Briar Flight”
“ATC, this is Briar Flight”
“ATC, this is Briar Flight”
“Briar Flight, this is ATC, go ahead”
“ATC, catch a nap and press your cocktail dress, we go dancing late tonight.”
“Briar Flight, this is ATC. Can you repeat? You are coming through broken and stupid. Copy?”
“ATC, you are the best dancer and you know the floor. Your new dancing partner needs the help and that will make us a foursome. They are bringing the shoes. A little bluebird told me you will love it.”
“Briar Flight, Will it be cold out? Should I dress heavy?”
“ATC, Think Banja Luka, not Drvar. Just some dancing in the moonlight, what could go wrong?”
At this, Kara gasped and chuckled. “You know she is going to kill you, right?”
Garen looked back at Kara, then the radio, waiting for a reply. “yeah, I might as well have said ‘it’s clear and a million, no weather in sight’”
“Briar flight, I better get a good nap in, I know how your parties end up. I’ll be ready with cocktail dress and bail money when you get here.”
“Copy all, no change in ETA”
“ATC, out”
They did this at a small clearing where they could take a break and reload their water bladders and empty their own bladders. During this stop, Garen also called Allyson on the radio to get more detailed location data. This he cross-referenced with the map book in the bike. It turns out that she was near one of the trails they had scouted frequently with Doug. An idea began forming in his head on how to meet up and bring her to the house, without the obvious traffic on the road, the very thing they were traveling through the woods to avoid.
He pitched his idea to Kara, who had some mods to suggest, which also made it better. This led to him telling Bekka of the need for her assistance later this evening for the operation. While Bekka was thrilled to hear his voice, she was a little less excited about the night activity. Garen had figured this might be the best and safest way, though and was wanting to do it tonight while the zombies were still in a state of disbelief and shock. He looked over at Kara and fired up the radio.
“ATC, this is Briar Flight”
“ATC, this is Briar Flight”
“ATC, this is Briar Flight”
“Briar Flight, this is ATC, go ahead”
“ATC, catch a nap and press your cocktail dress, we go dancing late tonight.”
“Briar Flight, this is ATC. Can you repeat? You are coming through broken and stupid. Copy?”
“ATC, you are the best dancer and you know the floor. Your new dancing partner needs the help and that will make us a foursome. They are bringing the shoes. A little bluebird told me you will love it.”
“Briar Flight, Will it be cold out? Should I dress heavy?”
“ATC, Think Banja Luka, not Drvar. Just some dancing in the moonlight, what could go wrong?”
At this, Kara gasped and chuckled. “You know she is going to kill you, right?”
Garen looked back at Kara, then the radio, waiting for a reply. “yeah, I might as well have said ‘it’s clear and a million, no weather in sight’”
“Briar flight, I better get a good nap in, I know how your parties end up. I’ll be ready with cocktail dress and bail money when you get here.”
“Copy all, no change in ETA”
“ATC, out”
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
His radio call mid-day caught me a bit by surprise.
“ATC, this is Briar Flight”
“Briar Flight, this is ATC, go ahead”
“ATC, catch a nap and press your cocktail dress, we go dancing late tonight.”
What the hell? He’s talking a mission tonight? I thought the idea was for him and Kara to get their ass back to the house and be good and safe and stay away from everyone until things get sorted out.
“Briar Flight, this is ATC. Can you repeat? You are coming through broken and stupid. Copy?”
“ATC, you are the best dancer and you know the floor. Your new dancing partner needs the help and that will make us a foursome. They are bringing the shoes. A little bluebird told me you will love it.”
Crap! He wants my help, and more specifically, my driving. He has another person he wants to bring in. He wants to use route Bluebird, one of the trails we did our rally driving practice on.
We went to a short Rally Driving school awhile back up here in the Pacific Northwest, and I took to it a lot. It’s one of the things I love about driving my little Subaru, they love that stuff! The bluebird route is a path through the forest that a friend of ours who is a backcountry ranger showed us that at one point isn’t far from our house. We would go out and play on it a lot since it was close and fun and disrupted no one. I guess he wants me to drive since I know the route best and it would be too hard to give someone directions on how to follow it.
With the uncertainty of things, I wonder how much gearing up I should do.
“Briar Flight, Will it be cold out? Should I dress heavy?”
“ATC, Think Banja Luka, not Drvar. Just some dancing in the moonlight, what could go wrong?”
Double crap! I should have known he wanted to do this at night. I need to dig out my helmet and NVGs. Shit, they will need some fresh batteries as well. Since I will be in a car or truck, short guns is the order of the day, and with NVGs, the laser should be on the gun. More weight and more gear! I just want to sit in the hot tub with a good book and chill. What was that last? ‘What could go wrong?’ I’ll get him for that.
“Briar flight, I better get a good nap in, I know how your parties end up. I’ll be ready with cocktail dress and bail money when you get here.”
“Copy all, no change in ETA”
“ATC, out”
“ATC, this is Briar Flight”
“Briar Flight, this is ATC, go ahead”
“ATC, catch a nap and press your cocktail dress, we go dancing late tonight.”
What the hell? He’s talking a mission tonight? I thought the idea was for him and Kara to get their ass back to the house and be good and safe and stay away from everyone until things get sorted out.
“Briar Flight, this is ATC. Can you repeat? You are coming through broken and stupid. Copy?”
“ATC, you are the best dancer and you know the floor. Your new dancing partner needs the help and that will make us a foursome. They are bringing the shoes. A little bluebird told me you will love it.”
Crap! He wants my help, and more specifically, my driving. He has another person he wants to bring in. He wants to use route Bluebird, one of the trails we did our rally driving practice on.
We went to a short Rally Driving school awhile back up here in the Pacific Northwest, and I took to it a lot. It’s one of the things I love about driving my little Subaru, they love that stuff! The bluebird route is a path through the forest that a friend of ours who is a backcountry ranger showed us that at one point isn’t far from our house. We would go out and play on it a lot since it was close and fun and disrupted no one. I guess he wants me to drive since I know the route best and it would be too hard to give someone directions on how to follow it.
With the uncertainty of things, I wonder how much gearing up I should do.
“Briar Flight, Will it be cold out? Should I dress heavy?”
“ATC, Think Banja Luka, not Drvar. Just some dancing in the moonlight, what could go wrong?”
Double crap! I should have known he wanted to do this at night. I need to dig out my helmet and NVGs. Shit, they will need some fresh batteries as well. Since I will be in a car or truck, short guns is the order of the day, and with NVGs, the laser should be on the gun. More weight and more gear! I just want to sit in the hot tub with a good book and chill. What was that last? ‘What could go wrong?’ I’ll get him for that.
“Briar flight, I better get a good nap in, I know how your parties end up. I’ll be ready with cocktail dress and bail money when you get here.”
“Copy all, no change in ETA”
“ATC, out”
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sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
After the radio calls, Garen and Kara grabbed a quick bite, pounded down a Gatorade, peed again and set out. They were balancing the rate of travel with the physical effort required to travel that fast. They needed to get to the house soon, but with enough energy to pull off the night’s extraction mission.
During the radio conversation with Allyson, she seemed a bit confused or unconvinced of the need for all the ‘cloak and dagger’ methods. She asked if they weren’t a bit over the top. This disturbed Garen. He realized that she had not made the transition in her thinking. She still thought of this as a localized natural disaster. Garen had a slightly different view. He had listened to some shortwave broadcasts. This was bigger than just Seacouver. He was sure Bekka had an even bigger picture of the situation. At the least, there were going to be weeks or months of lawlessness. He wanted to minimize external interaction as much as possible until a more stabilized picture could be obtained.
One of the things that kept rolling through his head was the conversations with the locals in Bosnia. The people who were able to recognize and shift mindsets when everything went down were the ones who had a higher likelihood of survival. The people who still thought things were normal were the ones eaten up in the situation.
During the war crimes trials, many of the irregulars that committed the worst atrocities were the guys next door; dentists, accountants, little league coaches. Once the government came apart, these were the ones raping and murdering, ethnic and religious cleansings of whole villages. All of this by the guy down the street that sold you your last car or cashed your checks at the bank. Now this guy is raping your 8-year-old after shooting everyone else in the house. This was shaping up into his worst fears. A simple invasion by a power-hungry dictator would be oh so simpler and cleaner.
“Kara, you may be right about Allyson having a tough time with the transition. Do you still think it would be best for you and Bekka to do the extraction?”
“It’s a broader presentation of concepts. She also may take it better from a woman. We will get the job done, and you can act as secondary QRF. Bekka and I will get the job done, no fear.”
“Ok, but if anything, ANYTHING feels off, cut bait and bail. Worst case, E&E east to Mon Lake and I will get you guys there. Think on the plan and cross deck it with Bekka so we have everything ironed out. I don’t want to have things stalled longer than 15 minutes when we get to the house, otherwise we may not get back by sunrise.”
The miles rolled under their wheels, making ground toward home.
During the radio conversation with Allyson, she seemed a bit confused or unconvinced of the need for all the ‘cloak and dagger’ methods. She asked if they weren’t a bit over the top. This disturbed Garen. He realized that she had not made the transition in her thinking. She still thought of this as a localized natural disaster. Garen had a slightly different view. He had listened to some shortwave broadcasts. This was bigger than just Seacouver. He was sure Bekka had an even bigger picture of the situation. At the least, there were going to be weeks or months of lawlessness. He wanted to minimize external interaction as much as possible until a more stabilized picture could be obtained.
One of the things that kept rolling through his head was the conversations with the locals in Bosnia. The people who were able to recognize and shift mindsets when everything went down were the ones who had a higher likelihood of survival. The people who still thought things were normal were the ones eaten up in the situation.
During the war crimes trials, many of the irregulars that committed the worst atrocities were the guys next door; dentists, accountants, little league coaches. Once the government came apart, these were the ones raping and murdering, ethnic and religious cleansings of whole villages. All of this by the guy down the street that sold you your last car or cashed your checks at the bank. Now this guy is raping your 8-year-old after shooting everyone else in the house. This was shaping up into his worst fears. A simple invasion by a power-hungry dictator would be oh so simpler and cleaner.
“Kara, you may be right about Allyson having a tough time with the transition. Do you still think it would be best for you and Bekka to do the extraction?”
“It’s a broader presentation of concepts. She also may take it better from a woman. We will get the job done, and you can act as secondary QRF. Bekka and I will get the job done, no fear.”
“Ok, but if anything, ANYTHING feels off, cut bait and bail. Worst case, E&E east to Mon Lake and I will get you guys there. Think on the plan and cross deck it with Bekka so we have everything ironed out. I don’t want to have things stalled longer than 15 minutes when we get to the house, otherwise we may not get back by sunrise.”
The miles rolled under their wheels, making ground toward home.
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ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
After the radio call, I went through some preps. I had to dig out some more gear. My first thoughts were jumping item to item, more scattered than a three year old with a case of Red Bull. I finally had to mentally slap myself and stop. I stood right there in the middle of the living room for a good five minutes. I forced myself to stop everything and clear my mind. This was not a moment for panic or frantic scrambling. I have hours to prepare, mountains of gear to choose from, and know two-thirds of the people I am working with. Working. That was the key and the problem. I am retired. I shouldn’t be ‘working’. I shouldn’t have to be thinking threat assessments, logistics, operational ranges, supplies expenditure ratios, comm plans, E&E routes, safe zones, and the thousand other things I left behind. I’m in ****ing America. It’s not supposed to be this way!
I gave myself a good five minutes to cry. This led to another ten minutes with Merlin, our huge jet black Maine Coon that rules the roost, who came up to me when he heard me crying and tried to calm me down. Once I had achieved a level of calm composure, I moved forward with what needed to be done.
Just like the old days, I started working most of the prep from the inside to the outside, starting with the mission, which was night rally driving, and lights-out on NVGs through terrain with an unknown level of hostiles while trying to remain covert. Underwear, boot top socks, and then the next choice. I was debating all in with a uniform but that was too far and I was not ready for that level. Instead, low boots and cargo pants. This was followed with the next nexus of decisions what to wear on top. To many this may seem like a whole lot of overthinking but it’s really the best way to set yourself up right. I was going to end up wearing a plate carrier. Anything with buttons, snaps, pockets or anything else will rub, create hot spots and pressure points, making life even more uncomfortable. I raided hubby’s closet for a combat shirt. These were developed by the military for just this purpose. A sweat-wicking mesh torso with uniform style sleeves attached, this was as comfortable as possible when wearing armor, while still providing uniform-like protection everywhere else.
A plate carrier to accompany my war belt. I know the trauma plates work, and will stop rifle rounds. Seen it happen in person. Friends are alive today because of them. I just hate that I feel the need to dig it out and use it here. A couple of extra tools and magazines attach to the front. Now my helmet. I don’t mind the helmet as much, I guess, since the main reason I am grabbing it is to hold my night vision goggles in place. Maybe also because I wear a helmet for so many other things, like the motorcycle, and rock climbing.
I sorted through all the stuff I was going to cram in my pockets, and it seemed like a lot to me until I remembered I used to carry more. Flashlight, pocketknife, ranger rag, electrician’s tape, rescue hook, extra batteries for the NVGs, headlamp, throat mic, the list goes on and on. I added an extra roll of duct tape and some paper grocery bags to my E&E Bailout bag. I check my pistol and my carbine again. All of this is laid out on the bed. I strip down and curl up under a blanket in the recliner in the bedroom. Merlin curls up in my lap and we nap.
Late afternoon rolls around and I wake up. I throw some food together for some fuel and feed the cats. We all sit and eat for a few minutes, then I move to the master bathroom and kick on the hot water. A slow shower, laboriously cleaning and scrubbing, as I try to put my mind in order and purge conflicts and stray distracting emotions. I dry off and comb out my hair. Long enough I shouldn’t let it roam free, short enough that braiding would be a pain, I threw a band around the end for a short pony tail. I went to the bedroom and looked at the gear on the bed, then pulled a few items from a box on the dresser. If I’m going to do it, I need to do it right.
I knelt in front of the bed. With a clear mind and a troubled heart, I once again took up the mantle of warrior. The first item on was my necklace. On it was two things. One was one of the dog tags I have had since my first day at Basic Training. It has made every trip, every mission. The second was another dog tag shaped amulet. On one side was engraved Ephesians 6:10-18, speaking of the “Armor of God”. The other side was a Norse rune symbolizing protection from enemies and defense of that which one loves.
My fervent prayer as I got dressed was for clarity of action and strength of will so that I may defend those I love. As the gear goes on, I also feel years peel away in my mind. I am feeling myself sink back in my mind to the person I once was. The process is not pleasant. With retirement, my envelope of responsibility shrank to a small and comfortable envelope. When I was active duty, I could be harsh and demanding, because the mission called for it. I had to measure what was right rather than what was nice, or polite or comfortable. I don’t like going back to that person, but I also hope enough of her is still there to do what needs be done.
I get everything on and test my range of movement, access for magazine changes for both rifle and pistol, put fresh batteries in everything and look in the mirror.
“Welcome Back, Jenny Wick”
I keep asking myself am I back? I guess tonight I might find out if yeah, I’m back.
I gave myself a good five minutes to cry. This led to another ten minutes with Merlin, our huge jet black Maine Coon that rules the roost, who came up to me when he heard me crying and tried to calm me down. Once I had achieved a level of calm composure, I moved forward with what needed to be done.
Just like the old days, I started working most of the prep from the inside to the outside, starting with the mission, which was night rally driving, and lights-out on NVGs through terrain with an unknown level of hostiles while trying to remain covert. Underwear, boot top socks, and then the next choice. I was debating all in with a uniform but that was too far and I was not ready for that level. Instead, low boots and cargo pants. This was followed with the next nexus of decisions what to wear on top. To many this may seem like a whole lot of overthinking but it’s really the best way to set yourself up right. I was going to end up wearing a plate carrier. Anything with buttons, snaps, pockets or anything else will rub, create hot spots and pressure points, making life even more uncomfortable. I raided hubby’s closet for a combat shirt. These were developed by the military for just this purpose. A sweat-wicking mesh torso with uniform style sleeves attached, this was as comfortable as possible when wearing armor, while still providing uniform-like protection everywhere else.
A plate carrier to accompany my war belt. I know the trauma plates work, and will stop rifle rounds. Seen it happen in person. Friends are alive today because of them. I just hate that I feel the need to dig it out and use it here. A couple of extra tools and magazines attach to the front. Now my helmet. I don’t mind the helmet as much, I guess, since the main reason I am grabbing it is to hold my night vision goggles in place. Maybe also because I wear a helmet for so many other things, like the motorcycle, and rock climbing.
I sorted through all the stuff I was going to cram in my pockets, and it seemed like a lot to me until I remembered I used to carry more. Flashlight, pocketknife, ranger rag, electrician’s tape, rescue hook, extra batteries for the NVGs, headlamp, throat mic, the list goes on and on. I added an extra roll of duct tape and some paper grocery bags to my E&E Bailout bag. I check my pistol and my carbine again. All of this is laid out on the bed. I strip down and curl up under a blanket in the recliner in the bedroom. Merlin curls up in my lap and we nap.
Late afternoon rolls around and I wake up. I throw some food together for some fuel and feed the cats. We all sit and eat for a few minutes, then I move to the master bathroom and kick on the hot water. A slow shower, laboriously cleaning and scrubbing, as I try to put my mind in order and purge conflicts and stray distracting emotions. I dry off and comb out my hair. Long enough I shouldn’t let it roam free, short enough that braiding would be a pain, I threw a band around the end for a short pony tail. I went to the bedroom and looked at the gear on the bed, then pulled a few items from a box on the dresser. If I’m going to do it, I need to do it right.
I knelt in front of the bed. With a clear mind and a troubled heart, I once again took up the mantle of warrior. The first item on was my necklace. On it was two things. One was one of the dog tags I have had since my first day at Basic Training. It has made every trip, every mission. The second was another dog tag shaped amulet. On one side was engraved Ephesians 6:10-18, speaking of the “Armor of God”. The other side was a Norse rune symbolizing protection from enemies and defense of that which one loves.
My fervent prayer as I got dressed was for clarity of action and strength of will so that I may defend those I love. As the gear goes on, I also feel years peel away in my mind. I am feeling myself sink back in my mind to the person I once was. The process is not pleasant. With retirement, my envelope of responsibility shrank to a small and comfortable envelope. When I was active duty, I could be harsh and demanding, because the mission called for it. I had to measure what was right rather than what was nice, or polite or comfortable. I don’t like going back to that person, but I also hope enough of her is still there to do what needs be done.
I get everything on and test my range of movement, access for magazine changes for both rifle and pistol, put fresh batteries in everything and look in the mirror.
“Welcome Back, Jenny Wick”
I keep asking myself am I back? I guess tonight I might find out if yeah, I’m back.
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Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
and some paper grocery bags to my E&E Bailout bag.
Ok CCG....
Just what are the paper grocery bags for and how large are the paper bags????
You could cut up a body and put in the paper bags, but the blood would ruin the bags....
Can be used if someone is hyper ventilating....
Or used to store food and preps that are found along the way....
Or you could cut holes in the paper bags and wear as disguises....
Plastic bags take up less space and can be used to suffocate opponents....
Why paper grocery bags????
Texican....
ps: Thanks for the chapter....
Ok CCG....
Just what are the paper grocery bags for and how large are the paper bags????
You could cut up a body and put in the paper bags, but the blood would ruin the bags....
Can be used if someone is hyper ventilating....
Or used to store food and preps that are found along the way....
Or you could cut holes in the paper bags and wear as disguises....
Plastic bags take up less space and can be used to suffocate opponents....
Why paper grocery bags????
Texican....
ps: Thanks for the chapter....
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
The rest of the afternoon’s ride to the house tiring but uneventful. The trails had opened up and they were able to make good time in some sections. They were still slower than a real trail bike would be, but real trail bikes couldn’t care the loads these did, or have the range. Everything is a tradeoff. When they were about twenty minutes out, they let Bekka know. Bekka was a little flat on the radio to them, but she DID just get up from a nap, they thought.
They rolled into the yard at the house about a half an hour before sundown. Before they could get the bikes in the garage, Bekka was beside them. Big hugs and kisses all around. Garen had a bit of a surreal moment holding Bekka where he wasn’t sure where or when he was. He realized it had been years since they had held each other all kitted up. Most of those times were at the end of long hard missions. After the group could breathe again, mission mode showed up.
Bekka was the first to start.
“So what’s the gig? Who are we getting, where are they and why me?”
Kara chimed in. ”Garen, I’ll go get the bike ready while you fill her in.”
Bekka quipped back before Garen could reply. “Kara, there’s no time for sex, especially with him. We have a mission to run”
Garen could just shake his head. This felt so right, the three of them together. This is what he sometimes missed. Sure, they all hung out together almost constantly, but without all three working a mission or a problem, it lost a little of its flavor. This was the environment that the bonds were forged, and when they were back in them, the bonds shown stronger and more pure. His inner geekdom flashed him a picture from Lord of the Rings where the One ring in the fireplace revealed the writing. The pressure of the situation brought out the threads that wove their lives together. He was snapped out of his reverie quite literally by Bekka snapping her fingers in front of his face.
“Kara, you mentioned sex, and his brain short circuited. Don’t do that, he distracts easily. Mission. Focus.”
“Gottcha.” Garen started pulling out map books as he started a bit of a briefing.
“Allyson, you remember her, the red headed instructor that came on board about six or eight months ago,”
“The long red haired one? Isn’t she the one that made Kara tingle all over to look at?” chimed in Bekka.
“Hey! I heard that!” came a shout from across the room.
“That’s the one. She was in the garage with us when the earthquake hit, she made it out as well. She’s made it up to the forest. She is just inside the forest right about here.” He gestured to a place on the national forest map. She’s backed into a stand of pines so she is concealed for now. We” pointing to Kara and himself “were figuring to bring her up Bluebird since the trail right here is so close you could cut over in this meadow right here, then your onto bluebird, and Katie bar the door.” Garen stood up.
“Oh, that it? Simple right? So sure! Just pop down and bring her in? Why does this have crapfest written all over it?” shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “So out with the details, like vehicle, how I’m getting there, who is doing what, etc.”
“She’s got one of those first generation Explorer Sports, 4X4, so ground clearance and maneuverability shouldn’t be an issue. It’s just her in the vehicle, she should have at least the 10mm training package with her so she has at least a basic kit. I don’t have a good picture of her on board fuel, but if she has at least half a tank, it should be enough with no real deviations in route. She is tactically sound as far as urban building ops, she is medically competent in abstract as a tactical paramedic but remote and austere medicine is still not in her skillset yet. Terrain navigation and survival, unknown. She is a highly skilled SWAT technician/Paramedic and has had a great attitude toward learning, but a lot of what she needs to learn, I don’t know if she knows what she doesn’t know” He looked at Bekka and shrugged his shoulders. “Kara thinks she will be good. I think she has potential, but cop to downrange is a big transition. I think she is worth trying.”
“Ok….you guys think it’s worth it, I’m game.” She paused, looked at her feet for what seemed like a lifetime and then said “So how am I getting there? What are we driving? What’s the plan?”
“Alright, it’s going to be you and Kara on one of the nuclear dirt bikes. A quick run down bluebird” he holds up his hand” yes, I know it’s not bright to use the same route for both out and back, but this gives you a good recce of what’s there, both terrain and people wise. If you see anything squirrelly, you can set up the dive over to Delta and I can head that way in the buggy loaded with fuel cans so we can sweep around another way. I figure I will be setting up the buggy for that while you guys start south. I’m pretty much your QRF, so any hard contact you can’t get past, break right and push out to the east. Between Kara and Allyson, you have two good short range subs for instant reaction, but any contact, and THIS is the reason I need rally girl, DRIVE your way out of trouble. Worst case, beacon on 3 and lead them to Thor’s footprints. That’s narrow enough I can stop them hard and cover your getaway. You are the best four wheel dirt driver here, especially on that trail. I trust Kara with your life, and you know how hard that is for me. And for long gun stopping power, its either you or I, and you are driving. Kara is like a pissed off badger up close, but long guns are not her forte.” He took her hands and stared in her eyes, ”We can do this, and afterward we crawl into our little rabbit hole here and pull it in after us until we can see which way this is going.”
With a squeeze, she then turns away from him and moves toward Kara. As she approaches her, she pulls an enormous energy drink out of her cargo pocket and hands it to Kara.
“You ready? A nice, moonlit ride through the dark forest with my other sweetie, what could be more romantic. Oh, wait, I know, machineguns! Let’s go get your girlfriend.”
“Bekka, she’s not my girlfriend! I’m not shopping! She IS nice eye candy, but that’s not why we are doing this and you know it. I….” Kara was kinda bristling at some of the implications. She stopped mid rant and looked at her friend, realizing she was just intending to pull her chain a little.
“I’m sorry Bekka, it’s just …Garen and I are still a bit wound up from the past three days. I took a round on day one” she holds up her arm to show the hole and bloodstains,” and yesterday Garen had to drop two guys that had shot and were going to rob and rape Mr Chenkof’s granddaughter. It just hit me wrong. I’m so sorry.” She moved forward to wrap Bekka up in an embrace, but it was already too late. Bekka stiffened at the mention of her wounding, and it only got worse from there. She held out a hand in the universal stop sign.
“You guys had what happen? I can’t let you two out of my sight for two ****ing minutes! Shit like this is why I never leave the house! You two have some ‘splaining to do when we get back!” she then pulled Kara into an embrace to defuse the angry tone to her voice.
Garen was cringing when he heard Kara spout off some of the things that were going on during their trip. He wanted to wait until everyone was back and do it in a more controlled way. He should have known Kara would blurt stuff out. The girl has no filter, for go or bad. He continued to set aside fuel cans to load into the dune buggy/ sand rail they had for running around in. It was fast and nimble so he could get to them if they needed his help. Meanwhile, in his head he started planning what else he needed from the house for such a mission. Before he finished with the fuel, Kara and Bekka rolled up on the Dirt Bike. A quick farewell, and they rolled out to the south. He looked at his watch and made a quick calculation or two, they should be there in a couple of hours, especially with Kara driving.
They rolled into the yard at the house about a half an hour before sundown. Before they could get the bikes in the garage, Bekka was beside them. Big hugs and kisses all around. Garen had a bit of a surreal moment holding Bekka where he wasn’t sure where or when he was. He realized it had been years since they had held each other all kitted up. Most of those times were at the end of long hard missions. After the group could breathe again, mission mode showed up.
Bekka was the first to start.
“So what’s the gig? Who are we getting, where are they and why me?”
Kara chimed in. ”Garen, I’ll go get the bike ready while you fill her in.”
Bekka quipped back before Garen could reply. “Kara, there’s no time for sex, especially with him. We have a mission to run”
Garen could just shake his head. This felt so right, the three of them together. This is what he sometimes missed. Sure, they all hung out together almost constantly, but without all three working a mission or a problem, it lost a little of its flavor. This was the environment that the bonds were forged, and when they were back in them, the bonds shown stronger and more pure. His inner geekdom flashed him a picture from Lord of the Rings where the One ring in the fireplace revealed the writing. The pressure of the situation brought out the threads that wove their lives together. He was snapped out of his reverie quite literally by Bekka snapping her fingers in front of his face.
“Kara, you mentioned sex, and his brain short circuited. Don’t do that, he distracts easily. Mission. Focus.”
“Gottcha.” Garen started pulling out map books as he started a bit of a briefing.
“Allyson, you remember her, the red headed instructor that came on board about six or eight months ago,”
“The long red haired one? Isn’t she the one that made Kara tingle all over to look at?” chimed in Bekka.
“Hey! I heard that!” came a shout from across the room.
“That’s the one. She was in the garage with us when the earthquake hit, she made it out as well. She’s made it up to the forest. She is just inside the forest right about here.” He gestured to a place on the national forest map. She’s backed into a stand of pines so she is concealed for now. We” pointing to Kara and himself “were figuring to bring her up Bluebird since the trail right here is so close you could cut over in this meadow right here, then your onto bluebird, and Katie bar the door.” Garen stood up.
“Oh, that it? Simple right? So sure! Just pop down and bring her in? Why does this have crapfest written all over it?” shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “So out with the details, like vehicle, how I’m getting there, who is doing what, etc.”
“She’s got one of those first generation Explorer Sports, 4X4, so ground clearance and maneuverability shouldn’t be an issue. It’s just her in the vehicle, she should have at least the 10mm training package with her so she has at least a basic kit. I don’t have a good picture of her on board fuel, but if she has at least half a tank, it should be enough with no real deviations in route. She is tactically sound as far as urban building ops, she is medically competent in abstract as a tactical paramedic but remote and austere medicine is still not in her skillset yet. Terrain navigation and survival, unknown. She is a highly skilled SWAT technician/Paramedic and has had a great attitude toward learning, but a lot of what she needs to learn, I don’t know if she knows what she doesn’t know” He looked at Bekka and shrugged his shoulders. “Kara thinks she will be good. I think she has potential, but cop to downrange is a big transition. I think she is worth trying.”
“Ok….you guys think it’s worth it, I’m game.” She paused, looked at her feet for what seemed like a lifetime and then said “So how am I getting there? What are we driving? What’s the plan?”
“Alright, it’s going to be you and Kara on one of the nuclear dirt bikes. A quick run down bluebird” he holds up his hand” yes, I know it’s not bright to use the same route for both out and back, but this gives you a good recce of what’s there, both terrain and people wise. If you see anything squirrelly, you can set up the dive over to Delta and I can head that way in the buggy loaded with fuel cans so we can sweep around another way. I figure I will be setting up the buggy for that while you guys start south. I’m pretty much your QRF, so any hard contact you can’t get past, break right and push out to the east. Between Kara and Allyson, you have two good short range subs for instant reaction, but any contact, and THIS is the reason I need rally girl, DRIVE your way out of trouble. Worst case, beacon on 3 and lead them to Thor’s footprints. That’s narrow enough I can stop them hard and cover your getaway. You are the best four wheel dirt driver here, especially on that trail. I trust Kara with your life, and you know how hard that is for me. And for long gun stopping power, its either you or I, and you are driving. Kara is like a pissed off badger up close, but long guns are not her forte.” He took her hands and stared in her eyes, ”We can do this, and afterward we crawl into our little rabbit hole here and pull it in after us until we can see which way this is going.”
With a squeeze, she then turns away from him and moves toward Kara. As she approaches her, she pulls an enormous energy drink out of her cargo pocket and hands it to Kara.
“You ready? A nice, moonlit ride through the dark forest with my other sweetie, what could be more romantic. Oh, wait, I know, machineguns! Let’s go get your girlfriend.”
“Bekka, she’s not my girlfriend! I’m not shopping! She IS nice eye candy, but that’s not why we are doing this and you know it. I….” Kara was kinda bristling at some of the implications. She stopped mid rant and looked at her friend, realizing she was just intending to pull her chain a little.
“I’m sorry Bekka, it’s just …Garen and I are still a bit wound up from the past three days. I took a round on day one” she holds up her arm to show the hole and bloodstains,” and yesterday Garen had to drop two guys that had shot and were going to rob and rape Mr Chenkof’s granddaughter. It just hit me wrong. I’m so sorry.” She moved forward to wrap Bekka up in an embrace, but it was already too late. Bekka stiffened at the mention of her wounding, and it only got worse from there. She held out a hand in the universal stop sign.
“You guys had what happen? I can’t let you two out of my sight for two ****ing minutes! Shit like this is why I never leave the house! You two have some ‘splaining to do when we get back!” she then pulled Kara into an embrace to defuse the angry tone to her voice.
Garen was cringing when he heard Kara spout off some of the things that were going on during their trip. He wanted to wait until everyone was back and do it in a more controlled way. He should have known Kara would blurt stuff out. The girl has no filter, for go or bad. He continued to set aside fuel cans to load into the dune buggy/ sand rail they had for running around in. It was fast and nimble so he could get to them if they needed his help. Meanwhile, in his head he started planning what else he needed from the house for such a mission. Before he finished with the fuel, Kara and Bekka rolled up on the Dirt Bike. A quick farewell, and they rolled out to the south. He looked at his watch and made a quick calculation or two, they should be there in a couple of hours, especially with Kara driving.
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ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Some of the ride south was nothing but a blur. Bekka had her arms around Kara on the back of the bike, holding on tightly as they raced the remaining post sundown glow trying to make as much ground before they had to slow down and switch to night vision goggles. Kara was concentrating as hard as she could to pick the fastest line that wouldn’t buck Bekka off. Bekka meanwhile was looking at the terrain both ahead and over her shoulder, trying to analyze and calculate any potential problems for her drive back north. In between, there were some soft words and heartfelt emotions expressed between the two as the miles were gobbled up. Bekka had her E&E bag over her shoulder, along with her carbine. Kara had her E&E bag strapped down as a tank bag and her sub gun across her chest. They were well prepared for the mission.
The miles were just too far for them to get there before all light was gone. They paused and switched over to the goggles. Now they had to move slower and more deliberate. It took an hour and a half to cover the same distance they had in thirty minutes in the light.
During the ride, they saw no other people and no recent signs on the trail. This was wonderful, but they couldn’t count on it lasting. As they got close, they contacted Allyson on the radio to warn her of their pending arrival and to have her pull any camouflage loose and prep her vehicle for the run. Allyson seemed a bit confused but said she would be ready to go when they got there.
Kara and Bekka found the stand of pine trees exactly where the map and GPS had pointed them to. They rolled up quietly to the front. Kara spoke softly and Allyson stepped out of the vehicle. The Dome light came on in the vehicle when Allyson opened the door to step out. Bekka popped off and walked up. She took a quick look up and down while she reached the door of the SUV, pulled Allyson forward and slammed the door, her face flaring in anger behind her goggles.
“What in the holy **** are you doing!? White light at night in the woods! This isn’t a camp out! You better get your shit together and get red……….Wait. Did you lose your clothes? Why are you in sweats and flip flops? Are you ill? Are you sick? Do you have altered mental status?” Her voice got louder with each exclamation.
“I …no….a…….what?” Allyson had a surprised and confused look on her face.
Bekka turned to Kara and barked out “Kara, what is this shit? This is the ‘switched on SWAT cop you and Garen thought might work out? She’s dressed for a frat party. I’m out here risking my ass, your ass and Garen’s ass? For Her?” She turned back to Allyson and with a raised hand, addressed her in a very pointed direct manor.
“Allyson, if you want to come with us, you have the five minutes it will take me to set up your vehicle for the drive to un**** yourself, get yourself into gear, outfitted, fully kitted up, night vision goggles in place and in the passenger seat. Or, tell us thanks, but no thanks, and we will be on our way.”
Allyson stood there staring. It wasn’t until halfway through the tirade that she realized that it was Garen’s wife. She didn’t look anything like she remembered her. Her brain was trying to follow the conversation, at the same time she felt insulted, and embarrassed at the same time.
“Well Allyson, tick ****ing tock” Bekka barked at her. “Shit or get off the pot. Are you coming with us or going your own way?”
“I don’t understand. Why all the….”
Bekka cut her off “Stay or go, why can be explained later. Its decision time right now.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Get your ass in gear, you are down to four minutes.”
As Allyson began digging out gear and getting dressed, Bekka was removing the bulb from the dome light. She then tore up the paper bags and taped layers of them over the instrument cluster, center dash cluster, the tail lights and the headlights. She kept the layers thinner over the headlights in case she needed some more illumination for her NVGs. Some weak light would show through, but not enough to be seen at a distance. She had also checked the fuel state, they were at three quarters of a tank. That should be sufficient. As Bekka finished, Allyson slid into the passenger seat, dressed back in her tac gear from day one, her helmet in her lap with the NVGs mounted.
Bekka rolled down all the windows and then looked over at Allyson.
“Allyson, the NVGs need to be on your head. I need help as a lookout. We can talk about all of this later, when we are safe.” She keyed the mike “Kara, lets roll.”
Kara chimed in “I’m on drag, bringing up the rear.”
The vehicles roll out, pointed north.
The miles were just too far for them to get there before all light was gone. They paused and switched over to the goggles. Now they had to move slower and more deliberate. It took an hour and a half to cover the same distance they had in thirty minutes in the light.
During the ride, they saw no other people and no recent signs on the trail. This was wonderful, but they couldn’t count on it lasting. As they got close, they contacted Allyson on the radio to warn her of their pending arrival and to have her pull any camouflage loose and prep her vehicle for the run. Allyson seemed a bit confused but said she would be ready to go when they got there.
Kara and Bekka found the stand of pine trees exactly where the map and GPS had pointed them to. They rolled up quietly to the front. Kara spoke softly and Allyson stepped out of the vehicle. The Dome light came on in the vehicle when Allyson opened the door to step out. Bekka popped off and walked up. She took a quick look up and down while she reached the door of the SUV, pulled Allyson forward and slammed the door, her face flaring in anger behind her goggles.
“What in the holy **** are you doing!? White light at night in the woods! This isn’t a camp out! You better get your shit together and get red……….Wait. Did you lose your clothes? Why are you in sweats and flip flops? Are you ill? Are you sick? Do you have altered mental status?” Her voice got louder with each exclamation.
“I …no….a…….what?” Allyson had a surprised and confused look on her face.
Bekka turned to Kara and barked out “Kara, what is this shit? This is the ‘switched on SWAT cop you and Garen thought might work out? She’s dressed for a frat party. I’m out here risking my ass, your ass and Garen’s ass? For Her?” She turned back to Allyson and with a raised hand, addressed her in a very pointed direct manor.
“Allyson, if you want to come with us, you have the five minutes it will take me to set up your vehicle for the drive to un**** yourself, get yourself into gear, outfitted, fully kitted up, night vision goggles in place and in the passenger seat. Or, tell us thanks, but no thanks, and we will be on our way.”
Allyson stood there staring. It wasn’t until halfway through the tirade that she realized that it was Garen’s wife. She didn’t look anything like she remembered her. Her brain was trying to follow the conversation, at the same time she felt insulted, and embarrassed at the same time.
“Well Allyson, tick ****ing tock” Bekka barked at her. “Shit or get off the pot. Are you coming with us or going your own way?”
“I don’t understand. Why all the….”
Bekka cut her off “Stay or go, why can be explained later. Its decision time right now.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Get your ass in gear, you are down to four minutes.”
As Allyson began digging out gear and getting dressed, Bekka was removing the bulb from the dome light. She then tore up the paper bags and taped layers of them over the instrument cluster, center dash cluster, the tail lights and the headlights. She kept the layers thinner over the headlights in case she needed some more illumination for her NVGs. Some weak light would show through, but not enough to be seen at a distance. She had also checked the fuel state, they were at three quarters of a tank. That should be sufficient. As Bekka finished, Allyson slid into the passenger seat, dressed back in her tac gear from day one, her helmet in her lap with the NVGs mounted.
Bekka rolled down all the windows and then looked over at Allyson.
“Allyson, the NVGs need to be on your head. I need help as a lookout. We can talk about all of this later, when we are safe.” She keyed the mike “Kara, lets roll.”
Kara chimed in “I’m on drag, bringing up the rear.”
The vehicles roll out, pointed north.
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steamroller
Contributing Member
Great story, keep up the good work !!
Sportsman
Veteran Member
Dang, you can write them as fast as I can read them. Please keep it up.
I guessed right on the paper bags. I was wondering why that instead of duct tape, though.
Either this woman will wake up and be a great asset ( I suspect), or she'll wash out pretty quickly.
Thank you.
I guessed right on the paper bags. I was wondering why that instead of duct tape, though.
Either this woman will wake up and be a great asset ( I suspect), or she'll wash out pretty quickly.
Thank you.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
“Can I ask a question now?”
“Better make it a good one” Bekka replied flatly, most her concentration on the driving to prevent her temper from boiling over.
“Why all the sneaky Pete, tactical hiding and shit. Who are we hiding from? This is a natural disaster. We should be helping with FEMA or something. Why are we instead running through the woods hiding from no one, This isn’t Afghanistan. Make me understand.”
“ Allyson, you have lived in a bubble, haven’t you?” Bekka tightened her grip on the wheel as she slid around the corner. “let me guess, a liberal arts major minoring in feminist lib?”
“No, criminal justice, followed by the police academy. Why? What are you getting at? What does any of this have to do with my questions?”
“History, ancient and modern. Look at recent time. Somalia, Kosovo, Rwanda, Haiti, Bosnia, Syria, Yemen, Iraq. In all of these countries, when the governments lost control of some or all of their territory, the areas dropped into lawlessness. At that point, the population comes apart. You end up with systemic fracturing of the once cohesive populous. This splits along many lines. Religious, ethnic, social, age, all of which lead to total disruption of the status quo. Religious discrimination when there is a government turns into religious based and ethnic based cleansing once the rules vanish. Marched into the hills and executed like Srebrenica, or just pulled out of their houses and butchered on their porches with machetes like Rwanda. Look at the riots here over a lawful shooting of a man attacking a police officer. That is with the ‘rule of law in place’. That has gone out the window now. Safety and security, already tenuous at best, is now dependent on higher levels of awareness and skill. One of the worst places to be is in the crowds or the refugee camps. That is the situation this is all headed toward. If you pull your head out of your fourth point of contact and learn to adapt to the new environment, you have a chance to survive. If, instead, you keep thinking things are as they always were, you are a liability to me and the ones I love.”
“But we aren’t in Rwanda or Syria. We are in the United States, so I don’t see how all of this applies to a natural disaster? It just sounds like rampant justification for radical lawlessness.”
At this, Bekka slammed on the brakes, bringing the Explorer to a sliding stop.
“Look Dumbass, there is a twenty-mile swath of destruction along the coast from Canada to Baja Mexico. LA, San Diego, San Fran, all the cities are flattened, flooded or in flames. The sea ports are wrecked. The buildings are broken. We lost millions to the tidal wave, and will lose millions more to fire, flood, famine and general lack of medical care. As people starve and get desperate, what’s left of society in these areas will disintegrate. Political, ethnic and racial warfare is coming. If you can’t see that, you are blind.”
“But the rest of the country is fine, the government will send in relief supplies and we will be good, wont we?”
Bekka started to respond when she finally heard or realized Kara was calling her on the radio, and finally resorted to calling her Buffy.
At that, Bekka slammed open the door to the SUV and got out stumbling to a tree, where she fell to her knees just in time to vomit copiously.
Kara had stopped behind the SUV and was calling her on the radio to find out why they had stopped. Seeing Bekka stumble from the SUV, collapse and hurl, she hopped off the bike and ran up to her.
“Bekka! What’s wrong?” the concern thick in her voice.
“I can’t do this anymore, Kara. She doesn’t get it, I hurt too much to explain it to her. I don’t think she can change fast enough to survive, and if she doesn’t, she IS going to get one of us killed.” She heaved again, doubled over.
“Bekka, come on, we can’t just sit here. What’s the play?”
“Here’s the plan. I’m going to get on the motorcycle, and pull tail security. You are going to get in the Explorer and try and talk the frat girl **** toy into some sense. If she doesn’t show some semblance of a clue by the time we get to Thor’s, then we cut her free for our own safety and hers, because if she doesn’t change her way of thinking and one of us gets hurt, I will put her down.”
Kara helped Bekka up and to the bike.
“Better make it a good one” Bekka replied flatly, most her concentration on the driving to prevent her temper from boiling over.
“Why all the sneaky Pete, tactical hiding and shit. Who are we hiding from? This is a natural disaster. We should be helping with FEMA or something. Why are we instead running through the woods hiding from no one, This isn’t Afghanistan. Make me understand.”
“ Allyson, you have lived in a bubble, haven’t you?” Bekka tightened her grip on the wheel as she slid around the corner. “let me guess, a liberal arts major minoring in feminist lib?”
“No, criminal justice, followed by the police academy. Why? What are you getting at? What does any of this have to do with my questions?”
“History, ancient and modern. Look at recent time. Somalia, Kosovo, Rwanda, Haiti, Bosnia, Syria, Yemen, Iraq. In all of these countries, when the governments lost control of some or all of their territory, the areas dropped into lawlessness. At that point, the population comes apart. You end up with systemic fracturing of the once cohesive populous. This splits along many lines. Religious, ethnic, social, age, all of which lead to total disruption of the status quo. Religious discrimination when there is a government turns into religious based and ethnic based cleansing once the rules vanish. Marched into the hills and executed like Srebrenica, or just pulled out of their houses and butchered on their porches with machetes like Rwanda. Look at the riots here over a lawful shooting of a man attacking a police officer. That is with the ‘rule of law in place’. That has gone out the window now. Safety and security, already tenuous at best, is now dependent on higher levels of awareness and skill. One of the worst places to be is in the crowds or the refugee camps. That is the situation this is all headed toward. If you pull your head out of your fourth point of contact and learn to adapt to the new environment, you have a chance to survive. If, instead, you keep thinking things are as they always were, you are a liability to me and the ones I love.”
“But we aren’t in Rwanda or Syria. We are in the United States, so I don’t see how all of this applies to a natural disaster? It just sounds like rampant justification for radical lawlessness.”
At this, Bekka slammed on the brakes, bringing the Explorer to a sliding stop.
“Look Dumbass, there is a twenty-mile swath of destruction along the coast from Canada to Baja Mexico. LA, San Diego, San Fran, all the cities are flattened, flooded or in flames. The sea ports are wrecked. The buildings are broken. We lost millions to the tidal wave, and will lose millions more to fire, flood, famine and general lack of medical care. As people starve and get desperate, what’s left of society in these areas will disintegrate. Political, ethnic and racial warfare is coming. If you can’t see that, you are blind.”
“But the rest of the country is fine, the government will send in relief supplies and we will be good, wont we?”
Bekka started to respond when she finally heard or realized Kara was calling her on the radio, and finally resorted to calling her Buffy.
At that, Bekka slammed open the door to the SUV and got out stumbling to a tree, where she fell to her knees just in time to vomit copiously.
Kara had stopped behind the SUV and was calling her on the radio to find out why they had stopped. Seeing Bekka stumble from the SUV, collapse and hurl, she hopped off the bike and ran up to her.
“Bekka! What’s wrong?” the concern thick in her voice.
“I can’t do this anymore, Kara. She doesn’t get it, I hurt too much to explain it to her. I don’t think she can change fast enough to survive, and if she doesn’t, she IS going to get one of us killed.” She heaved again, doubled over.
“Bekka, come on, we can’t just sit here. What’s the play?”
“Here’s the plan. I’m going to get on the motorcycle, and pull tail security. You are going to get in the Explorer and try and talk the frat girl **** toy into some sense. If she doesn’t show some semblance of a clue by the time we get to Thor’s, then we cut her free for our own safety and hers, because if she doesn’t change her way of thinking and one of us gets hurt, I will put her down.”
Kara helped Bekka up and to the bike.
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