Last Stand: Patriots (Book 2) (20 page)

With Rodriguez
’s help they dialed into the frequency Captain Mitchell had been using during their last communication.

“
This is a call to any US forces in the northern Tennessee area,” John began. “We are currently in the town of Oneida. A team of Russian fifth columnists has taken over and we require your assistance.”

He wanted to keep the message simple, but also open the dialogue to any other unit passing by in the area.

His concern was that most of the available US assets might have moved west already to meet the Russian, Chinese and North Korean threat.

Before long a voice came on.
“This is Colonel Higgs with the 101st. Who’s broadcasting on this frequency?”

John
explained who they were and the gravity of the current situation. “If you can spare something as small as a company-sized unit with a Bradley or two, I think the townsfolk would raise the white flag. We could certainly avoid the loss of any more innocent life.”

“I
’m sorry to ruin your day, ’cause your group sounds to me like a fine bunch of Americans, but all remaining forces have been assigned to hold the line along the Mississippi. I can’t afford to peel any of my men off this river bank. That, however, isn’t the only reason. This Chairman you mentioned is one of many foreign agents sent in to wrest control of towns and cities all across the country. When we discovered this we moved in aggressively to stamp them out, but you know what happened?”

“
They ran away?” John guessed, although he knew what the real answer might be.

“
No, sir. The local population fought us tooth and nail. They’d been convinced by these foreign agents that we were the enemy representing the forces of a puppet government attempting to wrest control of the country. They know what they’re doing. We ended up turning Park City, Kansas and Glenpool, Oklahoma into dead ringers for Fallujah before we realized it wasn’t worth it. Instead, we decided to island-hop, like we did in the Pacific during WWII. Once the immediate threat was taken care of, we could then roll back and clean those towns out one by one. So I agree with your desire to avoid loss of life. It’s a noble one, no doubt. But you’ll need to find another way ’cause I can promise you, rolling in troops and hardware is only gonna create a small-scale Stalingrad.”

John felt like his guts had just been ripped out
of his stomach. Colonel Higgs’ revelation that the citizens of local cities and towns were being duped into fighting against the military didn’t entirely surprise him. Since the country’s inception, Americans had been willing to fight and in many cases die to protect their homes and way of life. Hearing the colonel’s reasons for avoiding a direct confrontation in Oneida brought home a disturbing truth. Sometimes in the hands of a cunning enemy, a country’s biggest strengths could become its greatest weakness.

“
There is one piece of info I can pass on about the agent in Oneida,” Higgs said. “This comes straight from military intelligence, so take it for what it’s worth. He’s a former KGB operative who infiltrated the Georgian rebels and helped to destroy the organization through infighting and internal power struggles. I’m not sure what he’s calling himself nowadays, but it looks like his real name’s Jacob Golosenko.”

Diane laughed.
“He’s been going by Charles Augustus Morgan.”

“
Oh, I wanna kill him so much more,” Moss growled, driving his fist into the palm of his hand.

“
Thank you, Colonel,” John said. “I think I speak for all of us here when I tell you we’ll be praying the line you’re defending holds strong.”

“
So do I. Now good luck and God be with you.”

“
What now?” Brandon asked when John was done.

“
We get out there and join the battle,” Moss shouted, rising to his feet, his bristling hair nearly brushing the truck’s low ceiling.

Brandon
stood beside him and racked his Mossberg Chainsaw. “Let’s do it.”

“
There must be another way,” Diane said. “You heard the colonel, if those Patriots storm the town who knows how many more innocents will die. It’ll be playing directly into the Chairman’s hands. He wants us all to kill each other. But think about it. Since the EMP hit, we’ve probably lost more than half the country’s population. If we want any hope of making it out of this one day, we need to preserve as many lives as possible.”

John couldn
’t agree more. He’d had an idea before on the roof after rescuing Diane and it had to do with the speaker system the Chairman had trucked in to help subdue the population. What if they could use his own propaganda machine against him, the way he’d used their staunch defense of American values against them?

“
What are you thinking, John?” Diane asked.

John turned to Rodriguez who
looked deathly pale.

“
The speaker system,” he asked the radio operator. “How do I turn it on?”

Rod
riguez peered up at him through the slit of his right eye. “See that mic in the corner?”

John looked over. On
the far right of the control panel was a mic surrounded by a series of flashing lights.

“
They must have recorded a message,” Rodriguez whispered. “And been playing it back in a loop. If you press the lever right below the mic, it should give you a live feed.”

John followed his instructions. For a minute he eyed the button, his finger hovering over it.

“What are you gonna tell them?” Brandon asked him.

“
The truth.”

John pushed and held the speak button.
“This is John Mack from Knoxville, Tennessee. Like many of you in Oneida, I’m an American citizen, a father and a patriot.”

Moss opened the back hatch and listened as John
’s voice echoed over the speaker system.

“Crank it
,” Moss said, jerking his thumb into the air. “Let’s really wake this town out of its sleep.”

John turned the dial up to max.

“I’m here to let you know that each and every one of you has been the victim of a terrible lie. The United States is currently at war with Russia, China and North Korea. As we speak their armies are amassing along the banks of the Mississippi. This is a battle none of us can afford to lose. The man you know as the Chairman isn’t a special envoy assigned by the president, he’s a Russian agent sent here to enslave you and make you fight against your own people.”

Moss was looking through the binoculars, jumping up and down.
“I see people standing around listening, John, whatever you’re doing, don’t stop now.”

“
And his real name isn’t Charles Augustus Morgan,” John went on. “His real name is Jacob Golosenko and he’s a former KGB goon. If you still value freedom, the Constitution and everything else that made us great, then I appeal to each and every member of the militia in Oneida. Lay down your arms and help us expel the true enemy in our midst.”

John was about to continue the message again when the walkie in his back pouch crackled to life.

“Mole One, this is Eagle Eye, over.”

John put the walkie to his lips.
“Go ahead, Eagle Eye.”

“
Be advised, you have a large group of armed tangos heading your way. ETA fifteen seconds, maybe less.”

“
Close that hatch,” John yelled. “What about Marshall’s tactical withdrawal?”

“
Negative. The Patriots weren’t withdrawing. They were routed. I’m sorry, Mole One. You’re on your own.”

The connection with
Eagle Eye went dead at about the same time the first shots rang out. With no gun ports to shoot back from and no way to move to the driver’s area up front, their options were indeed limited. Added to that, opening the hatch to shoot back was an equally bad idea since it provided the enemy with a single target against which they could concentrate their fire.

John got on the walkie again.
“Eagle Eye, this is Mole One, do you copy?”

There was no response.

“Eagle Eye, do you copy?”

“
Forget him, John,” Moss roared. “He’s long gone, man, along with the rest of our men. You heard him. We’re on our own.”

Rounds pierced the truck
’s relatively thin armor and slammed into the radio equipment, blasting a spray of sparks and shattered components. John pushed Diane and Brandon to the floor.

Soon they were all hunkered down as the enemy outside continued to shoot the truck up. The thin armor might help ward off pistol rounds, but the AKs
’ large 7.62 rounds were cutting through these walls like a dagger through papier-mâché.

“
What do you say, John?” Moss asked.

The semi
-crazed look in the Patriot’s eyes told John he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. A romantic thought perhaps, but an incredibly selfish one that would accomplish little apart from getting them all killed.

“
I have a plan,” John said, calculating the odds of success in his head. They were slim. Maybe too slim, but anything was better than being drilled full of holes in the belly of this tin can. John pulled off his right boot followed by his sock.

“
What are you doing?” Diane asked. Clearly she was sure he’d lost his mind.

He waved the grimy sock in the air.
“We’re about to surrender.”

•••

A few minutes later, their weapons confiscated by the men outside and their hands bound with zip ties, John and the others were led out from the clump of trees and into the street where a crowd had begun to gather. Many of them wore black and in some cases dark blue cargo pants. Their faces were bloody, some with bandages wrapped around fresh wounds. Most looked weary and shellshocked. This was how the few surviving residents of Willow Creek had appeared after fending off Cain’s attack. John was sure they felt as if they’d thwarted a similar invasion by marauders. That was what made this situation so tragic and frustrating.

Diane,
Brandon and Moss stood huddled together in a growing sea of hostile faces. The occasional slap or strike from the mob was met with raucous cheers.

John recalled
his speech to Brandon, about how life was comprised of a tightrope walk between two equally painful choices. This was certainly one of those moments.

It wasn
’t long before the crowd parted and the Chairman appeared before them. He and John stood less than a foot apart. A snub-nosed .38 was in the Chairman’s hand, the same kind of pistol from that image of an execution following the Tet Offensive during the Vietnam War. John imagined it would be put to much the same use.

The mob grew quiet as the Chairman leaned forward.
“Why am I not surprised to see you mixed up in all this, Diane?” He turned to John with an almost pained expression. “The crowd wants nothing more than to tear you all limb from limb. After your heinous attack on our peaceful town I have half a mind to let them. Killing our citizens, hijacking our emergency broadcast to spread your lies.”

“
The lies are your own,” John replied. “You were sent here as a Russian spy and I can prove it.”

“
I have a special mandate from the president,” the Chairman shouted, waving the gun around.

“
Yeah, we’ve seen your so-called presidential commission and it’s so riddled with errors I’m shocked anyone believed it. In fact, I think the only one who questioned it was the mayor and look what happened to him.”

“
By the unilateral power invested in me,” the Chairman said, ignoring John’s accusations, “I hereby find each of you guilty of murder and sentence you to death.”

The crowd didn’t move, not right away.

John was gambling that many of the residents had heard his plea over the loudspeakers. Some would have dismissed it outright, but the goal had largely been to plant a seed of doubt in their minds. Facing the truth that you had been played for a fool and manipulated by the enemy was a hard pill to swallow. John needed to be the glass of warm water that would help wash the medicine down.

“You came from
Washington,” John said. “That’s your story, right?”

The Chairman didn’t answer. He was looking about him, sizing up the mob, wondering perhaps why they were so eager to hear what John had to say.

“And I can only assume you know about the Constitution. The Sixth Amendment. Are you familiar with that one?”

“I don’t have time for this,”
the Chairman said. “The Constitution’s been suspended anyway. It’s no longer relevant. Besides, what is this, primary school?”

“The right to a speedy trial,” a man with a John Deer
e cap said from the crowd.

Nearby,
a woman holding a pistol spoke up next. “The right to a jury of your peers and a right to legal counsel.”

The Chairman’s head was swiveling left and right as more and more voices spoke up.

“‘Give me liberty or give me death,’” John said. “Who spoke those words, do you know?” He was looking straight at the Chairman’s forehead and the beads of sweat building on his brow. “You don’t, do you, Jacob? That’s your real name, isn’t it? Jacob Golosenko. Yes, we’ve been in contact with the military and they know all about you.”

Diane spoke up now, her voice tense with fear. “You told me you served in the Marines as a medic, but I knew that wasn’t right.”

“They’re called Corpsmen, Jacob,” John added scoldingly. “Medics serve in the army.”

“And that word you
uttered when I nearly broke your wrist.
Biliat
.”

“It’s a Russian curse word,”
a townsperson said to their left. “My mother and father immigrated here from the Ukraine.”

“This is ridiculous,” the Chairman wailed. “You att
acked our town and now that you lost you’re prepared to say anything you can to save your skins.”

Just then the radio
they’d taken from John when they were captured hissed with static.

The Chairman’s eyes found it.
“This is how you’ve been communicating with the leader of your little insurgency, isn’t it?” the Chairman asked. “Well, I’ve got something I want him to hear.” He grabbed the walkie and raised the pistol to John’s forehead.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Jacob
,” John said calmly.

The mob was starting to stir.
It looked as though they weren’t so sure anymore about this little man who had suspended their inalienable rights and liberties.

The Chairman regar
ded John defiantly. “Watch me,” he said and pulled back the hammer.

He
brought the walkie to his lips and depressed the button.

From the corner of his eye,
John caught the silent muzzle flash from the side of the hill overlooking the town.

Then
came a thud, like a fist slamming into wet dough, and the crack from the rifle as the sound finally caught up. John had a front-row seat to the entire grisly sight: the Chairman’s head coming undone, a gout of blood spraying the people beside him. His eyes remained open and staring, but they’d turned inky black. Whatever life force had once been in the man was now gone. Jacob Golosenko collapsed in a heap as though the invisible strings holding him up had been snipped by a pair of giant scissors.

Eagle Eye hadn’t cut and run
.

For a moment, the men and women assembled around them stood stunned. Joh
n then turned to one of the Spetsnaz who’d been protecting the Chairman. “Tell me what you know about Paul Revere.”