Chapter 212 Your Country — the Real One — Needs Your Help

(August 1)

Grant went over to Jordan and Manda, who were chatting with the younger guards. “Time to go, guys,” Grant said. He threw Jordan the keys and Jordan grinned. All his friends thought that was very cool.

Grant opened the front passenger door for Manda. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said. He was treating her like royalty today. She deserved it. And Grant may not have much more time with her. At a minimum, he’d be very busy. At worst…he wouldn’t be around at all. He wanted to get as much good times in with her as possible.

Grant got in the back seat and told Jordan they had to go visit someone on the way back. Grant told Jordan how to get to the Minton house where the Folsoms were staying. Al had thoughtfully drawn Grant a map, which he gave to Jordan to see if he could read a map. It was another test that Jordan passed.

The family that the Folsoms were staying with had a nice house. A dog was barking and a middle-aged man came out with a shotgun. Grant didn’t recognize him, but the man recognized Grant.

“Judge Matson, what can we do for you?” the man asked as he lowered the shotgun.

“Could I talk to Nick Folsom?” Grant asked.

“Sure,” the man said. A minute later, a young guy in his early twenties came out. He had black hair and was average looking in every way.

“I’m Nick Folsom,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

The middle-aged man also came out and said, “We have some lunch for you if you’d like.” Perfect, Grant thought. It was always easier to get to know someone over a meal, and Grant needed to get to know Nick quickly and make some key decisions about him. Besides, Grant was hungry.

“Sure,” Grant said. “Mind if my daughter and her boyfriend join us?”

“No problem,” the man said. He extended his hand, “I’m Jay Minton.”

“Nice to meet you, Jay,” Grant said. “I’m Grant Matson.”

“Oh, we know,” Jay said. “We’ve been to some of the Grange meetings.” Grant felt like a mini-celebrity. His first thought was that any credibility he had from his Grange work could be used to recruit Nick into the unit out at Marion Farm.

The families assembled for lunch, which consisted of sandwiches on homemade bread. They were really good. The Folsom babies, ages one and two, had just gone to sleep. Nick’s wife, Rita, looked tired. She looked young to be a mom. Then again, Nick looked young to be a dad.

They made small talk. The Mintons had been in Pierce Point for about five years. They had moved here from Colorado. Jay’s job as a store manager took him to this area. He used to work in Olympia at the mall, but his store closed about a year ago. They had been living a simple life since then. They had enough to eat and did OK, but it was definitely a much less extravagant life than before the Collapse. They were getting by in a different way than they were used to, but getting by. Grant didn’t ask, but he suspected the Mintons were living on the one year worth of food Mormons were supposed to store up.

In the course of the small talk, Grant had a favorable impression of Nick. He was a young guy who joined the military to get some college money. He went into the combat medic field because he wanted to go medical school, but the Collapse ended that. That gave Nick a personal motive to get things back to normal, Grant thought. Nick’s dreams had been destroyed.

Grant wanted to know two things about Nick. First, his politics. Given that he was Mormon and in the military, the odds were pretty good that he wasn’t a socialist. Second, would Rita let him go off to war? That was a biggie. Grant could relate to that.

“So, what do you guys think about this whole situation, if you don’t mind me asking,” Grant inquired after a while. He didn’t have all day to beat around the bush about politics.

“Totally predictable,” Jay said about the current situation. He described all the insane regulations and taxes imposed on his store before the Collapse. He described how the police wouldn’t do a thing about the ever-increasing shoplifting. Then it became violent crime in the parking lot of the mall. Pretty soon, it became too dangerous for his employees to go to work.

“I realized about a year ago that this was absolutely inevitable,” Jay said. “So we…” Jay paused. He didn’t want to say how prepared they were and how much food they had.

“…did some commonsense things,” Jay said. “Glad we did.”

“What do you think will happen next?” Grant asked. Jay was silent. He didn’t want to say it. Neither did Nick.

Fair enough, Grant thought. He walked into their house and was asking them if they were waiting for a revolution. He recognized that he needed to respect their privacy a little more.

“Well,” Grant said, “I think there is going to be armed trouble.” That got their attention. They were thinking the same thing. Grant knew there were two directions to take the “armed trouble” talk. So he chose the safe route.

“You know, gangs,” Grant said. “That’s why we have a pretty amazing gate guard and a beach patrol. And our internal SWAT team, which I’m fortunate enough to be a nominal member of. I’m the old guy they let hang out with them.” That got a few smiles. Grant was warming them up to the topic of “armed trouble.” The topic of gangs was always the way to ease into the topic of fighting the government. If people accepted that fighting was necessary because of the gangs, the next logical step was fighting the biggest gang of all: the government.

“Nick, what did you see at Ft. Lewis?” Grant asked. He was cutting to the chase. Normally, he would have taken a few visits to get to this topic. But he didn’t have time. He didn’t want Nick to get too settled into the Minton house. And he needed a military medic out at Marion Farm right then.

Nick was trying to avoid this topic, but the judge had asked a question, so he answered. “Lots of bad stuff,” Nick said, darting his eyes to Rita.

“I’m so glad we’re out of there,” Rita said. “It was horrible. The base was like a prison. And people thought we were hoarding food. I felt like they were going to turn on us.”

Good. Rita was not exactly suffering from normalcy bias.

“So you left?” Grant asked to get them to tell the story. They gave Grant the short version. Things were bad at Nick’s unit. Soldiers were taking off. They were trying to get back to their families all over the U.S. Crime was out of control and they were needed back home. Pretty soon, half the unit was gone. The commanding officer left, too. The first sergeant was holding things together until the Southern and mountain West states were talking about “opting out” of the union. Then the remaining soldiers knew something bad was coming. Most took off. That’s when Nick realized it was time to go.

Nick and Rita got in their car and headed to a family in Frederickson suggested by someone at their church. The trip took four days with many roadblocks and hassles to get gas. They spent all the money they had on gas. They ran out of money and got hungry, but had plenty of food for the babies

When they got to Frederickson, the family they were supposed to stay with had already left. They weren’t sure why. They went to their backup plan, which was to meet the Mintons in Pierce Point. Their GPS unit wasn’t working so they couldn’t find Pierce Point. Their car broke down and they thought they were doomed.

“I’ll never forget when we told that Al guy that we were looking for the Mintons,” Rita said, “and he goes, ‘Oh, yeah, they live here.’ I will never forget that.”

“It’s almost like you’re supposed to be here,” Grant said, shameless appealing to their faith. Grant needed a medic and he truly believed that it was a miracle that the Folsoms got out to Pierce Point.

“Yes,” Nick said, slowly nodding his head. “Yes, sir, it is.”

Grant felt like this was the moment to make The Ask. “Nick, could I talk to you for a moment?” Nick looked surprised. Rita nodded and Nick got up from the table. They went into the living room.

“Nick,” Grant said in a soft voice, “I need your help. We need your help. Your country—the real one—needs your help.” Grant had decided to not even use the “rental team” story. He didn’t want to deceive Nick. Either the real Patriot story would motivate Nick or he wasn’t right for this job.

Nick realized what was coming. “Yes, sir,” he said, waiting to hear more.

“Nick, do you want to fix this place so you can go to medical school?” Grant asked. He was using Nick’s dreams to motivate him. It was for a good cause.

“Yes, sir,” Nick said. He looked toward the room where his son and daughter were asleep. “I want to fix this country for them.”

“You know how to do that, don’t you?” Grant asked Nick. Grant knew that Nick had been thinking about joining the Patriots. That was probably a hot topic of discussion at his unit as it was disintegrating.

Nick nodded. He didn’t want to say it out loud. He didn’t want to admit that joining the Patriots is what it would take.

“Have you heard of Oath Keepers?” Grant asked. He started to explain what that was.

“I’m in, sir. I’m in,” Nick blurted out. “I know why you’re here and what you’re asking of me. I will do it. My wife and I have already talked about it. She and I believe this is what God sent me to do. She is OK with me not being around for a while. We have the Mintons to help us with the babies.” Nick straightened his posture, looked Grant in the eye, and said, “I’m in.”

That was easier than Grant expected. He was stunned.

Grant started to think of what Nick would need. “You can have some days off during training and come back here to be with your family, but you can’t tell them what you’re doing or where we’re at. Understand?” Grant said that last part with a slight grit in his teeth. He wanted Nick to appreciate—with body language, not just words—how important secrecy was.

“Yes, sir,” Nick said. “Absolutely. Last thing I want is for the Limas to find us.”

Limas? Grant smiled that Nick was using the lingo.

“How soon can you start?” Grant asked.

“Now,” Nick said. “This is meant to be and I’m going to give it my all.”

“OK,” Grant said. He paused to think. He hadn’t planned on this happening so quickly. “I’ll take you to our base. You’ll go blindfolded until we check you out further. No offense.”

“None taken, sir,” Nick said. “I’d do the same.” Then Nick looked puzzled.

“What kind of unit is it?” Nick asked. “I mean, I owe my wife the assurance that I’m not joining up with five guys with shotguns.” Nick realized that he might be offending Grant because the unit might actually be five guys with shotguns.

Grant smiled. “Let’s just say that we have plenty of your former colleagues from Ft. Lewis.” Grant grinned and said. “Plenty.”

“Roger that,” Nick said. He was getting back in the swing of the military.

“Let’s go finish lunch and then you can tell your wife,” Grant said. “I’ll be back an hour later to take you out there. Bring all your stuff. You’ll be living in a covered building. We have water and electricity. It’s not roughing it, but it’s not luxury.”

Nick nodded. He was starting to realize the enormity of what he just agreed to do.

Grant put his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “We’re going to get our country back. I’ll be calling you ‘Doctor’ someday.”

Nick forced a smile. It was the kind of smile when you’re having a bad day and someone makes you laugh. Nick was forcing a smile because, while he appreciated the positive thought about being a doctor, he knew how dangerous this would be. He knew he’d be away from his babies and wife for months or maybe years. Or maybe forever. But he knew he had to do it.

Nick’s daughter started crying. Nick instinctively started to go toward her.

“That’s why you’re doing this,” Grant said as he pointed toward the room with the crying baby.

“Yep,” Nick said. “I’ll have a great story to tell them when they’re older.”

Nick walked out of the living room and said to Rita, “Got it, honey. Eat your lunch.”

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