“Of course, Mister President,” Kersey replied immediately.
Whitney nodded. “Thank you, Captain,” she said. “Please tell your communications leader that someone from my team will be in touch within the hour. We will see what we can do about getting you a proper uplink. Unless you have an affinity for middle grade textbooks.”
“No ma’am,” Kersey replied, “wasn’t exactly fond of them the first go around.”
After another round of chuckles, Williams took a deep breath and sat up straight.
“Everyone, I just want to say how proud I am of the hard work you’ve put in over this last month,” he declared. “We have been pushed to the brink by this enemy, not just our nation but all of humanity. Because of your determination, your ingenuity, and in the case of Captain Kersey, your blood sweat and tears on the front lines, we are on the verge of gaining a foothold against them. This is the first of many steps towards rebuilding this great nation. We have been on the defensive since our enemy launched their sneak attack, but in twenty-four hours, we officially go on the offensive.” He raised a fist. “Make whatever preparations you need, because it’s go time!”
Those in the room applauded, and some clapping came through the speaker as well. The President stood up from his chair, prompting everyone else to follow suit.
“We reconvene tomorrow at eight am for the final battle plans,” Williams said. “Dismissed.” He headed out of the room, and Whitney sat back down to gather her documents.
“Captain Kersey,” she asked, “will you have time in two hours or so to meet with me and my team?”
“Yes,” he replied politely. “I’ll also let David know that someone from your team will be in touch shortly about getting connected.”
“Thank you Captain,” Whitney replied, “talk soon.”
“Captain Kersey,” Adams said gruffly.
“Yes, General,” Kersey replied.
Adams took a deep breath and crossed his arms. “My apologies for being dismissive earlier,” he said in a rare moment of sincerity. “You’re doing damn fine work out there, and I really appreciate your insights.”
“Thank you, General,” Kersey replied.
Adams nodded. “Stephens, you got a good one on the line,” he said, allowing his voice to become jovial. “If he keeps this up, he’s going to have your job.”
Stephens chuckled. “So nice of you to offer up your position to me, so we can free up a spot for the Captain,” he said.
They shared a laugh, and John led the group out of the bunker, leaving Kersey and Stephens alone on the phone.
“General, anything else for me?” Kersey asked.
“Just this,” Stephens replied. “I want you to know how proud I am of you. You have far exceeded my expectations, which were already incredibly high. You may think that Adams was joking about you taking over my job, but I assure you that he’s not. You’ve done this country a great service by your actions these last few weeks.”
Kersey swallowed hard. “Thank you, General.”
“No, thank you,” Stephens replied. Then he chuckled. “Now get back to work.”
“Yes sir,” Kersey replied with a laugh of his own. “We will be in touch.”
In his little communications classroom, the Captain sat back in his chair as the line went dead. He spun around to look out the window, coffee in hand. Another batch of troops headed towards the front lines on the interstate.
He took a long, contemplative sip, equal parts pleased and relieved that he’d been able to get them to agree to his plans and ideas.
He raised his mug to the window. “A lot of you might actually make it through this.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kersey emerged from his comm room, thermos in hand, and saw David sitting on the floor across the hall.
“So how did it go?” David asked, hopping up immediately, eyes wide with excitement.
Kersey laughed and shook his head. “Not a hundred percent sure,” he admitted, “but they were at least buying some of what I was selling.”
“Look at you!” David exclaimed, smacking the Captain on the shoulder. “Having the ear of the President, pitching him your war plan. Think of how many of your predecessors and contemporaries would kill for that opportunity!”
Kersey shook his head. “You’d be surprised at how short that list is,” he said. “It’s one thing to be responsible for your unit, another thing entirely to have the weight of the world put on your shoulders.”
David’s excitement dampened a bit, his eyes muting at the valid point. He took a deep breath and raised his chin.
“Well, that’s why you got people like me,” he declared. “To help you with your burden. So tell me, how can I help?”
Kersey shook his empty thermos and smirked. “Well for starters, you can walk and talk, so I can get a refill.”
“Done!” David replied and they headed back to the cafeteria. They stepped aside at the door to let a few soldiers exit, who saluted the Captain as they passed him.
Kersey nodded to them and then opened the door. “I’m also going to need you to hook up with someone from D.C.,” he said. “It’s going to be someone from Whitney Hill’s team.”
“What do they need me to do?” David asked as he leaned in the doorway to the cafeteria.
“They’re going to work with you in setting up a visual connection so I can see what they’re seeing,” Kersey replied.
“I can handle that,” David said with a nod. “And wow, they’re really looping you into everything, aren’t they?”
The Captain chuckled. “It would appear so.” He glanced over at Copeland sitting off to the side. “She said that they’ll be in touch within the hour.”
“Better go take care of a few things before that happens,” David replied, giving him a wave. “If you need anything you know where I’ll be.”
“Thank you,” Kersey said, and then the communications expert disappeared back into the hallway, the door swinging shut behind him.
The Captain approached the counter, and the same soldier from earlier stood there with a smile. He extended his hand, reaching for the thermos, and Kersey nodded and handed it over silently.
Copeland stood from his spot, heading over to his pensive superior. “Captain, you okay?” he asked.
Kersey took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m good,” he replied, forcing a smile. “Just a lot of difficult decisions to make in the coming days.”
“Well, why don’t you join me?” the Sergeant offered. “You can tell me where you need me.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the table he’d been sitting at.
Kersey nodded and grabbed a tray of food and his fresh thermos, offering a smile to the serving soldier before following Copeland to his corner table.
“So, lay it on me, Captain,” the Sergeant said, picking up his fork.
Kersey cocked his head. “How comfortable are you with jumping out of a plane?” he asked.
Copeland chuckled. “Ranks somewhere between going behind enemy lines without a weapon and allowing my sisters to give me a makeover,” he admitted.
“Guessing there is some unaddressed trauma there?” The Captain smirked.
The Sergeant stared at the ceiling and shuddered. “Four older sisters man, and they had a field day with me when I was younger,” he admitted. “Just thankful the internet wasn’t around back then, or else my promotion probably wouldn’t have gone through.”
The two men broke out into laughter loud enough to disturb some of the other soldiers eating nearby. One of them glared, but when he realized it was the Captain, he quickly smiled and saluted him instead.
Kersey mouthed sorry, and then cleared his throat and turned back to his food. “Internet would have totally destroyed my career path too, if it had existed,” he admitted, quieter this time. “The boys and I would get into all sorts of shenanigans.”
“Shenanigans, huh?” Copeland asked with a twinkle in his eye. “Is that white people talk for criminal activity?”
They shared a muted laugh this time.
“Yeah, you could call it that,” Kersey admitted. “We had this real mean son of a bitch for a history teacher. Always yelling and throwing shit our way in class. One of those petty tyrant types who failed at life so he was taking it out on anybody that was even remotely successful.” He took a bite of his slurry and then shook his head. “We took it in stride, carefully plotting out revenge. Finally, our time came.”
Copeland leaned forward. “Oh, this oughta be good.”
“That’s an understatement,” the Captain said with a wicked glint in his eye. “We had him first period, and he was really late. Came in muttering under his breath, pissed off and frazzled. The class was mostly silent as he threw a mini temper tantrum at his desk. Finally, one of the girls in the class asked him what was wrong. He started to yell at her, but collected himself when he noticed it was one of the prettier girls in the class.”
The Sergeant wrinkled his nose. “Guessing there weren’t many of you?”
“Lord no,” Kersey replied with a laugh. “Anyway, he let slip that he was late because his key broke off in the ignition of the car, and that the locksmith wasn’t going to be able to get to it until tomorrow.” He took a deep breath. “Then, he made the mistake of telling the class that his car still started.”
Copeland’s eyes widened, and he stared at the Captain, enraptured in his tale.
“Oh, it’s about to get good,” Kersey promised with a smirk. “So, one of my boys lived in the same neighborhood as this teacher, and he was kind enough to tell us where to strike. That night, three of us paid him a visit. We had a spirited debate on what to do with it. Drive it into a quarry, park it in a hospital zone so it got towed… but my boy Jimmy had the winner. There was a junkyard outside of town, so we took it up there, parked it out front of the main gate, and stole the spark plugs from it so it wouldn’t start up.”
The Sergeant covered his face with his hands in a futile attempt to hide his mirth. “Let me guess, that didn’t go well?”
“No, it did not,” Kersey admitted with a dark chuckle. “We got to school the next day, and he didn’t show up. Finally, about halfway through the period, the principal came in and said he wasn’t going to be there, because someone stole his car. The principal glared at us, like he knew we did it, but couldn’t prove it. We just smiled like the good little angels that we were.”
Copeland shook his head. “Angels, Satan, either way,” he quipped.
“So, we got through the school day and got home,” Kersey continued, setting down his spoon. “As soon as I walked in the door, I got a call from my buddy who lived up the street from the teacher. He was all frantic and said we need to drive by the house. I didn’t miss a beat, just dropped everything and rushed back out. As soon as I turned onto his street, I saw a flatbed tow truck sitting outside of his house.”
The Sergeant nodded. “Nice of them to bring his car back,” he said.
“You’d think so,” Kersey said and held up a finger, “however, his car was now in the form of a compact cube.”
Copeland snickered and shook his head.
“We came to find out later that the junkyard had a relatively new employee who was manning the forklift that day,” Kersey explained, “and he had a car matching that description for the crusher. When he couldn’t get it started, he assumed it was the one, so he did his job.”
The Sergeant rubbed his forehead. “That’s terrible, Cap,” he said, chuckling. “Just straight up destroyed that man’s life.”
“Indirectly,” Kersey agreed, “yeah, we did.”
“Indirectly?” Copeland asked, raising an eyebrow. “You crushed that man’s car. Not like teachers have a lot of disposable income, after all.”
Kersey grimaced. “That’s more true than you realize,” he said. “So, remember that pretty girl that got him to calm down? Well, because he lost his car, she ended up taking him to school.”
The Sergeant covered his mouth. “Oh, no,” he groaned quietly.
“Oh no is right,” Kersey agreed. “The principal saw that and got suspicious, so he kept an eye on them. A couple of days later, he found them… ah… enjoying each other’s company in the janitor’s closet.”
Copeland barked a laugh. “Man, that is some wild shit!” he declared. “And I thought my high school was bad.”
“I got some stories, let me tell you,” Kersey replied, shaking his head and picking up his spoon again.
“Well, if they are as good as that one, then you should save them up,” Copeland suggested. “That one was so good that I’m gonna let you throw me out of a perfectly good plane.”
Kersey laughed and nodded, glad for the levity and dedication from the Sergeant. “I appreciate that,” he said.
“So, you got details for me yet?” Copeland asked, stirring his food.
Kersey shook his head. “Broad strokes right now,” he admitted. “Basically, you’re gonna lead a team to the north to secure a bridge over the river.”
“Sounds easy enough,” the Sergeant replied, and then shoved a mouthful of mush in his mouth.
“Well, there’s only going to be about fifty of you,” the Captain drawled, “and there’s a good chance you’ll be facing down tens of thousands if not hundreds of thousands of zombies.”
Copeland swallowed his mouthful, eyebrows reaching the ceiling. “Oh, is that all?” he asked, sarcasm evident in his tone. “For a second there, I thought this was going to be daunting.”
Kersey chuckled and sipped his coffee. “If you don’t mind, whenever you’re finished with your meal, I’d like you to check in with David,” he said. “He’s hooking up with D.C. to get us real time satellite imagery. Just tell him to request the info for the northern Canadian blockade. Have a look at it tonight and give me your thoughts tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” Copeland replied. “You’ll have my recommendations first thing in the morning.”
Kersey nodded and set down his spoon, gathering his thermos and standing up. “I appreciate you sharing a meal with me, Sergeant,” he said.
“Anytime, Captain,” his companion replied.
“If you need me, I’ll be around,” Kersey said, and watched him nod before diving back into his lunch. The Captain turned towards the counter and held his coffee mug up to the cafeteria worker in a cheers. “Damn fine stuff sir, keep it up!” he called, and the worker smiled and gave him a thumbs up.
Kersey headed out of the cafeteria and headed for the school doors. As he exited into the sunlight, he watched the troops in the immediate area, active and rushing around with various preparations and tasks.
With the dedication and work ethic they’re showing, we’re going to get this done, he thought, taking a deep calming breath. He headed back towards his temporary home a few blocks away, enjoying the brief moment of quiet and the warm sun on his face. As he approached, he saw Corporal Bretz sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair.
“Bretz, everything okay?” Kersey asked, brow furrowing.
“Just fine, Captain,” Bretz replied with a smile. “Got tired of sitting inside, thought I would come out for some fresh air.”
Kersey nodded and walked up the porch steps. “Mind if I join you?”
“Please, I could use the company,” Bretz replied, and motioned to the chair next to him.
The Captain took a seat, relaxing, and studied his friend’s steely expression, clearly still processing the horrors of the bridge.
“You holding up okay?” he asked gently.
Bretz groaned, pursing his lips. “I really wish people would stop asking me that,” he muttered.
“Sorry,” Kersey replied, holding up a hand. “Just concerned about you, that’s all.”
The Corporal shook his head. “A lot of us have seen horrific things the last few weeks,” he said. “I’m not special, Cap.”
“A lot of those people weren’t in charge, either,” Kersey pointed out.
Bretz finally met his ga
ze, glaring at him. “You’re in charge, why isn’t anybody concerned about you?”
“Because when I see the bad, it’s in the form of names and numbers on a spreadsheet,” Kersey replied calmly. “For you it was different.”
Bretz nodded, and then turned his gaze back to the distance, staring off absently. “I can buy that,” he admitted. “And look, I appreciate you and some of the others being worried about me. But the fact is, I’m ready to get back out there.”
“That’s good to hear,” Kersey admitted, “because we’re about to get this show on the road.”
The Corporal sat up straight. “How soon?”
“Twenty-four hours,” the Captain replied. “Maybe a little longer depending on where you’re at.”
Bretz cocked his head. “And where do you want me to be at?”
Kersey took a long sip of his coffee, and then stroked his chin as he thought. “You’re one of the most capable soldiers I’ve had the pleasure of serving with.”
“Don’t blow smoke up my ass, Cap,” Bretz said, shaking his head. “We both know what I can do, just lay it out there for me.”
The Captain nodded, and set down his thermos. “Okay,” he said, leaning forward on his knees. “I need a team to push far ahead of the front lines to set up a blockade to the north of downtown. There’s a bridge over the river, and we need to take it.”
“Another bridge job,” Bretz said, cracking a self-deprecating smile. “Obviously I’m the natural choice.”
Kersey returned his smile, relieved at the attitude. “In a sea of dangerous jobs,” he said, “this one is like fighting a great white shark using a spork.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve faced long odds,” Bretz reminded him.
Kersey sighed. “Not going to lie, I think with you heading this up it has a good chance of success,” he said honestly. “But if you aren’t up to it, I need to know now. No judgement whatsoever if you don’t wanna do it. It’s just-”
“Captain,” Bretz cut in. “You’ve relied on me this long. I can handle it.”
Dead America The Third Week Box Set | Books 7-12 Page 41
