A WELL-ENTRENCHED INSURGENCY

 

by Adrian Truss

 

 

 “It is almost impossible for an invading army to overwhelm a well-entrenched insurgency with conventional force.”     General Gaius Marius, Roman Legion, 75 B.C.

 The short-wave radio crackled to life. Seventy-five year-old Garnett Hornby looked at his code book. Ran his thumb down the date column and across to the week. This week’s messages would be in Lingalan. He turned on the recorder just as the synthetic voice came over the airwaves.

“Likebi Likebi Likebi

Ba secteurs zomi na moko, ntuku minei na mwambe, ntuku libwa na mitano

Aegis ordre: Oscar Tango minei Zulu

Ezali kosala coordonnée mitano, libwa, mibale; minei minei misato

Mosala: kosala mbala moko”

Hornby hated the Lingalan code. It was almost as hard as Chinese, which he had actually started to understand. And Lingalan wasn’t used often so this was bound to be a nasty message. He switched off the set and stored it back in its hiding place under the stones by the fireplace. There wouldn’t be a repeat of the message. Then he played back the recording and jotted down the translation.

Attention Attention Attention

Sectors eleven, forty-eight, ninety-five

Aegis order: Oscar Tango four Zulu

Coordinates five, nine, two; four four three

Action: execute immediately

Hornby sighed as he read the last line. Immediately. That would be hard. Not to mention Aegis order OT4Z. Destroy target at assigned coordinates. Hornby new what those coordinates meant. They signified the location of the American munitions storage dump just outside of Roseneath. It was the only viable target left in his sector. His back ache just got worse as he imagined planting the heavy mines around the heavily patrolled dump. Even with the forest cover it would be almost impossible. They always gave these kinds of jobs to the old folks. Expendable was the word. The Resistance needed the younger men and women for the more gruesome raids. Good news was he was the only agent in sector forty-eight so, providing they were still alive, there would be two others on the same mission. Slightly better odds. He erased the message.

The mines were fifteen pounds a piece, huge round tubes of metal with plastic explosive in the centre. He would need help on this one. Patrick maybe. He was still active he thought. And maybe Roseanne, she could probably tote one of those casings. Three should do it, if they could get close enough, to ignite the munition housings.

Well, immediately meant now, so there was no hanging around. He’d feed Monty though. He hadn’t been fed yet today. He banged on the side of the fridge with a metal spoon and the cat came scampering around the corner.

“Aha, there you are. Want some breakfast, Puss?” The big grey tabby purred around Garnett’s legs. “Here,” he said, pulling the lid off a large tin. ‘Better give you the whole thing. I might not be back. I’ll leave the back door open for you.” He dumped the tin into the bowl and Monty dug in.

It was a cool autumn day and Hornby could feel it in his knees as he walked back to the barn and pulled his old pick-up truck out of the barn. He wheeled it over to the diesel fuel tank and parked. He froze momentarily as one of the American surveillance drones buzzed over head. Most of them were triggered by movement, so as long as you were still, it was okay. It was the follow-up kill drones you had to watch for. 

   INSURGENCY CONT'D