Sleeper Cell Response Kit — Prepared for Disaster

Three or four years ago I started like everybody does — with a bugout bag. Then my thinking shifted to just getting home, because most of the time I'm not at home and all my supplies and guns are at the house. In the last six to eight months I transitioned again, to what I call my sleeper cell response kit. Look at the FBI interrupting that terror cell in Michigan, the tens of thousands of suspected terrorists estimated to have come across the border, and the ex-intel folks saying an attack on the homeland is a real possibility. The philosophy has changed — everybody's a target now, not just a high-rise in New York. This kit is for acting quickly when it happens around you. We're not talking sustained conflict, and we're not talking bugging out.

The bag itself is a 52-liter Himalaya. I love the size — not so big it's a burden on your shoulders, not so small you can't carry what you need. Quality materials, padded straps, neoprene back panels with airways so you get airflow instead of a sweaty back, and a waist strap. The front compartment held on by two straps is where you'd stow a helmet if you wanted; for this kit I'm not worried about donning a helmet.

Up front I keep a durable pair of CQR pants — odds are I'm in dress pants when something happens, and I want to ditch those fast. There's a thermal bivvy from SOL (Survive Outdoors Longer), really meant for other people: if you've got injured folks, it gets them warm quickly. There's a baton as a less-than-lethal option and window breaker — those things are freaking awesome — two extra M4 mags, a multi-tool, a tourniquet right where I can reach it, a paper map of the Eastern United States in case GPS jams or the cell network goes down, spare optic batteries, and a low-profile in-ear comms setup.

The star of the comms side is the ACR Bivy Stick. It's a mini satellite communicator that pairs to your phone over Bluetooth and sends messages by satellite instead of cellular — and it has its own number, so it works even if your phone doesn't. You can mesh with family members who have one, send location, and there's an SOS button that alerts first responders. It costs nowhere near what a satellite phone runs, which can be upwards of $100 a month just for service.

Side pouches carry the blades and water. The Skallywag knife is super sharp and comes with swap-out saw and fish-hook blades — though getting them out of the sheath was a fight on camera. There's a bigger fighting knife plus a cheap Smith & Wesson folder as a backup, because one is none and two is one. Three bottles of water live on the other side — dehydration and wound-cleaning both covered. Up top there's a spare multi-tool and a little flashlight that takes colored signal tips: red, orange, and white.

The main compartment rounds it out: emergency ration bars (they don't taste the greatest, but that's a ton of calories), an IFAK with all the essentials and my second tourniquet, Winchester 8x42 binoculars that come in under $100 and punch way above that, a LifeStraw, a solar power bank to charge the phone or the Bivy Stick if the grid's down, and spare socks — wet feet with no fix is a problem you can prevent for almost nothing.

And then the primary weapon: a 7.5-inch AR pistol in 5.56 with a Sylvan Arms folding pistol brace — I prefer Sylvan over Law Tactical, just personal preference — a Holosun AEMS up top, and a light for the dark. The AEMS is one of my favorite optics for rifles and PDWs: huge window, amazing picture, circle dot. It folds into a tiny footprint and stays in the bag; my concealed carry stays on my body. Last piece: a custom Safe Life Defense carrier with soft armor and three mags under my truck seat, with the 2A Patriot Ranch logo on it so hopefully the good guys don't shoot me. Bottom line — if you told me I could only take two pieces, I'm grabbing my gun and my Bivy Stick, because then I've got comms and the ability to protect myself.