Dan and the Bottle Ch. 13

Jim Archer showed up five minutes later, as did his wife and several members of the council.

"Ok, Kathy, what's important enough that you call all of us out of a council meeting at eight o'clock at night?"

Silently, she handed him several printouts from the data she'd located just minutes before.

He read through the two pages quickly, then, again, more slowly, eyes widening as the implications of what he was reading began to sink in.

"This..... this isn't possible. The founder never mentioned this.... not even the possibility!"

Kathy shrugged. "Maybe he didn't know? Something like this.... I'd think it would be above top secret."

"You're probably right. The question is, have the Chinese found this place?"

Jim handed the pages over to John Corcoran while he rubbed at his chin with the other hand, thinking it over.

"I doubt it, now that I think about it... or we'd have seen them with these things already."

Corcoran read through the pages; his eyes soon going just as wide as Jim's had. "Is this for real?"

Kathy nodded. "It came straight from that new base, from the old paperwork we found there. I scanned it all into the main computer less than an hour ago."

Jan Archer took the pages from Corcoran, reading through them quickly. They gave the location of a civilian research facility, specializing in Laser technology. Her own eyes widened at the possibilities.

"Have you looked up these coordinates yet?"

Kathy nodded. "They're in southern Oregon.... well outside of the free zone. There are at least three more Chinese bases between here and there. Big ones. Two in Idaho, here and here, and another here, in Oregon. The research base is about seventy miles northeast of that last one."

Jim nodded, looking at the map that was now showing on the screen and shooting a look at his wife.

She nodded, in turn, going to another console and copying the digital map to a disc so she could use it from her laptop and show it on one of the big screens in the council office.

Jan hooked her laptop up to the Cave network and set a search for all of the information that had been loaded on Chinese bases, specifically the bases between the Cave and the weapon research lab in Oregon. Within two minutes, she had her answers.

The nearest base, to them, was a major supply depot. According to the latest intelligence, which had been gleaned from paperwork taken from the last base they'd hit, was that this base was home to well over five thousand troops, a good fifty tanks and support vehicles for them, about a hundred Armored personnel carriers, and numerous hummers and trucks.

It also had a good thirty helicopters and a small contingent of fighter aircraft.

Jim looked over the listings, his thoughts grim. He didn't have nearly enough people to take this place on. It would take at least another year before he could field a force strong enough. It would have to wait.

Phil Huett was busy exploring in a suburb well to the east of the cave when he found it. He pulled out his satellite phone and called the Cave.

Leeanne answered the phone at the control room.

"Leeanne, dear, can you get Frank Bergen on the line for me?"

Bergen picked up the line. "Yeah, Phil, what's up?"

"How many of those big diesel generators do we have in stock, currently?"

"Three, why? If you're looking to power up another village, we don't have enough. Two of those three are in pieces right now, waiting on new parts from the machine shop."

Huett grinned into the phone.

"I just found an old industrial equipment supplier's warehouse. There are twenty seven big ones here... I mean 'tow behind a big fuckin' truck' type big. A shitload of parts, too.... looks like they did sales, service, and rentals here, back in the day. That ain't all, either.... there're well drills, concrete saws, big damned pumps, you name it."

Bergen, by this point, was grinning from ear to ear. "Have you got a GPS unit with you?"

"You betcha!" He quickly read off the coordinates.

Within four hours, twenty five of the military deuce and a half trucks were pulling in to the area of the warehouse; within three days, Bergen had the crews strip the place of everything but the furniture in the office.

Max Klein led his patrol of scouts through southern Idaho, looking into the rumor of a small base of Chinese. What few details they had were of a small 'air cavalry' base, whatever that was supposed to mean. The Commander had said that it meant infantry that were set up for rapid response, via transport choppers; something they definitely wanted to nip in the bud.

What they found was far more than a 'small' base, though. He and his team spent several days observing from a distance through long lenses, taking numerous pictures, and finally pulling back to a safe distance to compare notes.

He and his men totaled up their counts, and the numbers were appalling. It looked like the Chinese had raided more than one American Army base... there were thirty Chinook troop transport choppers, along with a dozen or so Bell 'Huey's, fifteen of the big Chinese 'Hinds', and twenty jet fighters, which appeared to be the Chinese copies of the American twin-tailed F-15, a carrier based plane, normally. There were also a good fifty barracks type buildings, of a size to house at least seventy five to a hundred men each. There were seven warehouses, at least, and several hangers. There were also dozens of smaller, single family home sized buildings; presumably officer's quarters.

He sat back in the old garage where his team had taken refuge, writing up his summary/conclusion, noting that this base, at first glance, didn't appear to have the usual barracks of female prisoners, meaning it was open to an all-out, go for broke assault. If they could put fifty to a hundred fighter jets to work on it with missiles and the 20MM 'Vulcan' gatling guns, as well as twenty or thirty tanks, a few dozen attack choppers, and a few dozen howitzers, then send in foot troops to mop up with light machine guns, grenade launchers, and rocket launchers, they might well get away unscathed, or, at least, they would keep the casualties to a minimum.

It wasn't like they needed the Chinese supplies, after all.

Jim Archer sat back looking over the digital photographs on a laptop while reading Max's summary, even though he disagreed with him. The younger man didn't realize just how valuable those Chinooks were, and some of the flight instructors had expressed an interest in capturing a few of the Hinds, for study and to show the budding pilots their strengths and weaknesses.

The kid was right, though, in one respect; this base was going to be a nightmare. Taking it intact would require the largest number of troops they'd ever used in a single operation, and losses would be significant. They might do well to move small groupings of troops into staging areas all around this base, over a week or so, then converge on it from all sides at once. There were small, abandoned towns all around the place, which would make things easier.

Even so, they would have to proceed carefully. The Chinese had taken to booby trapping some of the suburban houses around their bases; one of the scouting teams he had sent out had found this out the hard way. The lone survivor had barely made it back alive... in fact, he was still in the hospital, and was probably going to need months of physical therapy before he would be able to walk again.

He was still thinking it over, two weeks later, when Phill Huett came by, a large, flat wooden box in his hands.

A Mama Maria's special; Large, deep dish, with garlic, three kinds of cheese, two kinds of peppers, onions, mushrooms, and their own version of 'Italian' sausage.

"I come bearing gifts, O Great one."

"Ok, smartass.... what's on your mind?"

"Now, C'mon, Jim, do I need a reason to bring a pizza over?"

"If it were anyone else, I'd say no... you, on the other hand...."

"Ouch! Ok, ok, you got me. There are a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about."

Jim waited until they were seated at his kitchen table, glasses of home made beer in hand, munching away at slices of the pizza before Phil broached the subject that was bothering him.

"I went through the latest training schedule for the new people."

"And...?"

"I noticed Tim Riley was on there."

"I know. I put him there. A little discipline would do that man a world of good."

"You realize that might backfire on us."

Archer nodded, chewing on a mouthful of pizza. "I know, there's the chance he might go running to the Chinese. Still, I'm inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt; Jim Miller is his history teacher. He says he thinks he might have gotten through to the bloody fool. If not, well, we'll send him out on local patrols, and have his squad leader keep an eye on him."

"If nothing else, maybe some Chinese punk will kill him before he can do any damage."

"There is that.... and he doesn't know the actual location of this base. I thought about making him spend time on the serving line, serving food to the women who've been held by the Chinese as slaves, but we haven't liberated any lately, and those we have are now mostly living on their own or have taken up with men here... or other women."

Huett refilled his beer mug before asking. "That bother you?"

Archer did the same, reaching for another slice of pizza and shaking his head.

"Not really, no. If it makes them feel safe, who are we to judge?"

"True enough... though it seems like a waste of some good pussy."

He'd timed it perfectly; Archer was just taking a swallow of beer, and some of it shot out of his nose. He eyed Phil sourly, but couldn't hold the look.

"What's the matter? Did you have your eye on one who turned to women?"

Phil nodded. "Cute little blonde, name o' Sally Winters. Nice tits and legs up to damn near her neck. I asked her out, one night, after her training session at the range, but the look she gave me! Surprised I didn't get frostbite!"

Archer smiled at this; he knew a lot of the women they'd saved from the slavery of the Chinese had become extremely wary of men in general. Given time, though, enough of them would come around. Huett had been a confirmed bachelor most of his life; rumor had it, according to Jim's wife, that the poor guy wasn't exactly built any too well.

George Klein looked over the new class of recruits as he explained to them the methods he'd learned, forty years ago, of moving silently through the woods, and how to tell if one was succeeding. He'd been taught, as a young boy, by both his father and his granddad, and passing on these skills was satisfying, knowing he was preparing the next generation to defend the Cave, and their way of life. He no longer went out himself; not with a young wife who was six months pregnant. He smiled at the thought, even as he continued with the instruction.

His son, Max, meanwhile, was making an appearance in the council office, accompanied by several of his squad members; they were there to walk the council members through some of the photographs they'd taken at the Chinese base.

"As I said, sir, that satellite dish they're using is on a kind of tower/pedestal thing, at least fifty feet tall. We saw it repositioning itself several times while we were there, so I have to assume they're using it, probably for communications, though I couldn't say who they're talking to. It could be bases further west of here or mainland China itself. We saw plenty of planes and choppers outside, but we couldn't get close enough to see what they had in the hangers. We do know that they've got a few tanks in those outbuildings.... looked like updated versions of what the old books called 'Type 99s', though I couldn't say for sure."

He flipped through the notebook before him, settling on a different page.

"They appear to be using a lot of old American equipment, too. Chinooks and Humvees, obviously, as well as those Hueys, but also guns. I think some of the machine guns in the guard towers are M2 Brownings, and I know I saw a few of their soldiers carrying M16s. There's no mistaking that profile. It's going to be a rough one, if we just try to go in there with ground troops, Sir."

Archer nodded. "You're right, Sergaent, but to be honest, we're going to need to take that base as intact as possible. We're getting too overloaded here; we need to expand the number of training bases, and we need to bring more of the locals into our sphere of influence."

He paused for a moment, taking a long swallow from his coffee cup as he got his thoughts together.

"We also need to build up the amount of land under cultivation. We're eventually going to have to feed an entire country, after all. We can't keep going on food we have in storage and the output of the farms we have here. If we keep growing at this rate, by this time next year, we're going to need at least another two thousand acres of farmland, maybe more."

Max nodded, deep in thought for a moment.

"Well, sir, we counted at least seven small villages between here and there. All of them had large areas of land growing food, much more than they really needed.... of course, the Chinese are taking most of it. If we eliminate the Chinese, they'll have more food than they know what to do with."

"What about livestock? Cattle, pigs, chickens? Sheep, goats, that sort of thing?"

Max walked over to the big plasma display, which currently showed a map of the area in question.

"They all have chickens, of course.... two villages, here, and... about... here, they also appeared to have small flocks of turkeys. This one and this one over here both had small herds of cows, although this one was the only one where we saw a bull. I'm guessing they loan it out to the other one in the spring, because the one that has no bull still had several calves running around. I don't think any of them didn't have a few pigs running around loose. I think they just let those forage in the woods nearby. They also have a few fishnets.... probably for the river over here." He concluded, pointing out a small river southwest of the town.

Archer smiled... Max was nothing if not thorough. His father's teachings, no doubt.

Bob Sharpe was sitting back in the mess hall at Juniper base, sipping at a cup of coffee as he read through some of the reports the combined teams were coming up with about the underground bunker and it's contents when a young woman in a centuries-old Airman's uniform appeared at his elbow.

"More coffee, Captain?"

He turned and smiled up at the young woman. "Please, miss...?"

"Barlow... but you can call me Jenny." she replied as she topped off his cup.

"Thank you, Jenny."

'Damn... she fills out that uniform nicely!' he thought, as she continued to gaze at him.

"Is it true? Are you really going to teach us to fly again?" she asked as she stood by his side.

He nodded. "As soon as we can get enough power running to use those flight simulators again, yes. I'm guessing you want to take the training?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

"You bet! I'd love to learn to fly, feel all that power under me. Seems like that'd be better'n sex!"

He chuckled a bit at that.

"Well, I'm not so sure about That, but it is a huge rush. I took one of those F-22s up a few days ago.... it's so much fun I can't really describe it."

"Oh, lordy! Could you take me up sometime?"

"Well, the F-22, there isn't a trainer version of that, but... there are a few F-16 trainers here... they haven't been brought up yet, but when they are, sure, I could take you up on a patrol. I'll warn you, though.... if we run into any Chinese planes up there, things could get dangerous in a hurry."

"That's ok... you'd just shoot them down, right?"

He gave her a hint of a smile.

"I don't know, dear... I've never been in an actual dogfight before."

"A... dogfight? I don't understand. What do dogs have to do with it?"

He smiled again. "That's what it's called when two planes fight in the air, hun.... don't ask me why, but it's traditional, goes back to the time when they first started using planes in war."

"Oh, ok... well, can we go sometime this week? I have the whole day off, the day after tomorrow."

"I'll see. I know Colonel Jamison wants to get a few more of those planes brought up from their bunker as soon as he can. I'll talk to my mechanic down there, see if he can move a few trainers to the front of the line."

"That would be SO cool! Can we talk about it, later on? I get off in an hour."

He smiled. "Sure, no problem.... I've got about another hour of reading to do here. Just come and get me when you're ready."

"I've got a better idea.... when I finish my shift here, I'll bring us out a couple of bowls of stew and we can talk about it over dinner."

He nodded, smiling. "Sounds like a plan. I didn't have any dinner plans."

Archer managed to get a few dozen people relocated to the new village just before winter hit, selecting just those houses that had more than one fireplace, and by the time spring was starting, had moved several tractors, plows, disc harrows, and manure spreaders up to clear fields for a late spring planting. Within a week, several tons of compost had been spread on the five acres that had been prepared and it was sectioned off into five seperate parcels, growing an acre each of corn, tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, and red beans.

Five cows and a yearling bull were moved into a nearby pasture, with another area designated for chickens, while yet another was set up, on the edge of the forest, for pigs.

Within a year, it would not only be self-sufficient; it would be trading surplus food with the nearby Rebel base for extra ammunition and fuel for their few pick-ups. Within two more years, they would expand the amount of land under cultivation twice, to nearly four times what they'd begun with.

Phil Huett and Jim Archer sat back on the hilltop, a little over half a mile away from the Chinese base, getting a first hand look through long telescopes at what they were up against, recording much of it to video via attached digital cameras for later review. They soon found that Max Klein had been wrong in one part of his assessment; the Chinese did, indeed, have a barracks full of female slaves here... it was merely concealed a bit, being in the middle of the soldier's barracks.

Phil gave a deep sigh. "Well, that puts the kibosh on an air-only attack. We can't hit all of those barracks without killing the women."

"I know. Sometimes I hate having a conscience."

"So how are we going to do this?"

Archer grinned. "Remember that proposal I made, awhile back, about scaring the hell out of them?"

"Killing a few, then a few more a week later, and so on?" Huett replied, slowly grinning as the scenario played out in his head.

Archer smiled and nodded. "Maybe it's time to dust that idea off and put it to work. Maybe refine it a bit. Intersperse sniper attacks with the occasional use of rocket launchers and RPG's, maybe get in close enough to use a few grenade launchers on those guard towers."

Huett grinned. "I like it.... but I have another idea. What say we start things off with a bang?"

Within three days, the team was in position; just down the road from the main gate to the base, and just past a curve in that road, out of sight of the guard towers, Jimmy Brunell and four teammates went to work, burying a line of anti tank land mines across the dirt road. Two hundred yards further down the road, they did it again, adding a peppering of anti personnel mines on the shoulders of the road. Further down, they added a dozen 'Bouncing Bettys'; mines which, when stepped on, popped up twenty or so feet in the air before exploding, sending steel ball bearings flying in all directions with murderous force. Some of the troops called it a flying Claymore.