“Who was supposed to do it?” Sheriff Watson asked.
“Gregg, Carlos, or Agent Monahan. Hoplite and Edward have confirmed that they were unaware of this and Gregg found the body this morning. I was made aware of it shortly thereafter. So,” he stated and paused, “That leaves this group.”
Silence permeated the group.
“Why wasn’t it carried out when the order was given?” Evan offered the group.
“We wanted to give it a few days to see if he’d offer up anymore intel,” Gregg explained.
“So, now what?” Samantha asked.
“Now’s the time for the person that did it to fess up is what,” her fiancé rebutted. “We can’t have people running around executing prisoners.”
“But he had an execution order, what’s it matter who did it?” she offered.
“Because, Sam, we just can’t. Many of us have had to do unthinkable things. It’s a tough thing to live with.”
“Which is exactly why I did it,” Emmitt stated catching Josh and the group off guard.
“Daddy!?” Emily exclaimed.
“He damn near killed my daughter!” he growled in response.
He immediately began to feel weak, feeble. Something was building in his chest. He grabbed the front rail to balance himself.
“He was responsible for the death of hundreds of thousands of people,” he continued. “Probably millions before this is all said and done. Most of all though, I did it because he killed my grandchild,” he concluded solemnly.
Gregg placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and squeezed. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Emily turned to her mother who hadn’t uttered a word. She observed her as Sonja cooed at Declan and rocked him gently in her arms.
“Mom? You knew, didn’t you?”
“Emmitt,” she replied.
“I told her the next day. She didn’t know until it was done.”
“No!” Em demanded on the verge of tears. “Lifelong pacifist lawyers don’t just turn a switch and start murdering people! Something else is going on here and I want to know what it is… right now!” she concluded sternly.
Emmitt pulled his daughter into his arms and half whispered, “I’m dying, sweetie,” he offered with a faint smile. “I’ve got cancer and it’s advanced. I don’t have long according to the doctors… couple weeks at most.”
“No! No! No! It’s not true!” Emily pleaded as she pushed away. “Mom?” she asked looking for her tell her it was a lie.
Sonja couldn’t do anything but nod and confirm the truth.
“We found out a couple days before you and Gregg showed up in Springfield. Your father didn’t want there to be a death watch so I swore not to tell. I’m sorry, sweetie.”
The pain in Emmitt’s chest was building again. He reached out to grab Gregg’s arm.
“Sir?” his son-in-law asked.
His legs had no strength to support his weight. He slowly began to wilt. The aging attorney released his grip on the steadfast arm and clutched at his chest.
“Shit!” Gregg exclaimed. “Basilia! Get over here! I think he’s having a heart attack!”
“Emmitt!” his wife shrieked as she hurriedly dashed in the direction of her husband. Chaos consumed the porch as people began rushing toward the fallen man.
The country doctor was by his side within seconds.
“Stay with me, Emmitt,” she commanded. “Sonja, get down here! Talk to him and keep him talking!” She attempted to check his pulse. “Abelardo, go to the house and get my bag!”
Her youngest son leapt off of the porch in an effort to avoid the chaos at the other end. Like a shot, he was in his father’s truck screaming up the rutted tractor road.
“It’s okay, Emmitt,” Sonja said softly. “I’m safe here.”
Her husband nodded, his scared eyes betraying his truer mental state.
“I’m losing him,” Basilia decreed as she ripped open his jacket to begin chest compressions. The second she put her hands on his chest she knew there was something seriously wrong. It was far too malleable, squishy even. She almost recoiled, but began attempting the lifesaving maneuver all the same.
Sonja reached out and placed a hand on top of Basilia’s. “He has a DNR. Please don’t. Just let him go. It’s what he wants.” Calmly, his wife of four decades turned toward their only child and compassionately stated, “Em, come say goodbye to your father.”
Emily dropped to her knees with the fear and panic written across her face, comingling with her tears.
“Daddy, no! Please!” she wailed. “Stay with me,” she begged.
“It’s going… to be okay,” he said through shortened breaths. “You’re… a momma now.”
“No, Daddy, no,” she passively protested while her mother smoothed his hair.
“Declan?” he asked.
“Right here sweetie,” his wife replied.
“Let me… hold him… one last time.”
Sonja carefully placed the baby in the crook of her husband’s arm. Emmitt softly kissed the top of his head.
“New baby… smell. Going… to miss… that,” he offered. Then he turned toward to his adoring family. “Miss you… too. Love… you both.”
The group cried as they watched helplessly while Emmitt Calhoun slowly slipped away. He was laid to rest under a shade tree near Three Sisters so Sonja and Emily could visit often.
* * *
Through Dallas’ efforts prior to the HANE, and subsequent introductions thereafter, the group was able to keep track of the various movements of the UN forces as they fanned out across the country. They didn’t have coverage beyond the Mississippi yet, but they had a pretty good picture of the east coast. Anything from Maine to Louisiana was now their primary concern.
Through the HAM network, Dallas and the others learned that the Royal Marines departed Cleveland soon after they emptied the building of all its resources. Unfortunately, once the vaults were empty, they turned their attention to the surrounding buildings. The exhibits within the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum were pilfered of Mick Jagger’s cape, Keith Moon’s velvet outfit, and Jimi Hendrix’s guitar along with scores of other items. The cages, coolers, and refrigerators at the Horseshoe Casino, which was located only a thousand yards from the Treasury, were relieved of their contents as well.
As the ship backed away from its mooring, deck guns fired a dozen incendiary rounds and bathed the lake front and city center in flames. The structure that formerly held the national cache and twenty square blocks burned to the ground before the rains arrived to slake the fire’s appetite.
While the English continued their conquest of the northeastern United States, the Spanish handled the southeast, and the French took over the Gulf Coast. The Russian Northern Fleet was divided among the three and served as follow on forces. Their Pacific Fleet performed a similar purpose on the western shores as it complemented the Asian berthed vessels. The Japanese military thoroughly enjoyed the retribution for the treatment and sequestration of their citizens on American soil during WWII. They greedily created internment camps for ‘undesirables’ and those with a propensity for inciting rebellious thoughts throughout the population. Many of them were not heard from again.
The United States land based forces were overwhelmed after the HANE. None of the hi-tech gear they had grown so reliant on worked as it should. If a piece of equipment managed to survive the original EMP, it was rendered ineffective and useless when massive experimental ship mounted RF devices blasted the coastline with targeted electromagnetic pulses. Any resistance the U.S. coastal defenses could have offered once the UN troops came ashore was wiped away after three solid weeks of shelling from the offshore navies.
The ports of Charleston, Virginia Beach, and Miami fell in relatively short order, as did New Orleans, Long Beach, Seattle, and Los Angeles. Within a week of relieving Cleveland of its assets, the Royal Marines from that assault were forced to get creative. Since they were effectively cut off from their
supply chain on the coast, they used the cloak of darkness to transfer personnel and gear to barges and made use of the New York State Canal System.
West Point never stood a chance.
While the cadets and auxiliary reinforcement units were busy defending against the brigade attacking from the south, the lack of any satellite imagery of the battlefield left them exposed. They were eventually flanked and crushed by the Royal Marine battalion floating down the Hudson River from the north.
* * *
‘Frank, this is Mac! Where the hell are you?’ the voice inside Dallas’ noise cancelling headset said harshly.
‘I got pinned down at the Wendy’s by a sniper on the Route 50 off ramp,’ the man shot back tersely.
“Whoa!” the radio operator exclaimed
‘What are you doing on the east side of town? Get your ass over here!’
‘They were taking more fire than we were plus I was out of ammo! These little bastards seem to be coming from everywhere! How’s the north side holding up?’
“Oh crap!” Dallas blurted to no one.
The basement comm room was empty except for him and the equipment. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Some town nearby was being raided. Given the frequency he was on, the signal strength, and the terrain, he figured it was about twenty to thirty miles away.
“No! No! No!” he said aloud as he adjusted the tuning knob to reduce the static. Eventually the channel was re-tuned.
“Josh!” he bellowed from underneath the cabin. His tone left no doubt that this wasn’t something innocuous.
‘The south and west are clear. We seem to be holding up here in the north end. You guys over on the east side are taking the bulk of the assault!’
“Damn it! Where are they?” he asked himself. “I need a friggin’ map down here!”
“What!” Josh yelled back as he yanked open the door.
“Get down here!”
His friend took the steps two at a time not knowing what was wrong. He was closely followed by Sam and James.
The man pulled off the headset and flipped a switch. The running battle was able to be heard throughout the basement on the speaker.
“What is it,” Samantha said excitedly.
‘Mac, we need some reinforcements over here! Send what you’ve got now!’
“That one was some guy named Frank. He and ‘Mac’ are trying to coordinate forces and defend a town somewhere near here,” Dallas added quickly.
‘As soon as we knock off a few more of these assholes we’ll be right over. Can you tell what they have left?’
‘It’s hard to tell! Every time I pop my head up some of those Gangster Disciple mother f –,’ the man started to answer before static permeated the signal.
“Damn it!” he mumbled as he set himself back to the task of re-turning the conversation.
‘Where did they come from, Frank? I didn’t think that many got out of the prison!’
Josh flashed boiling hot. Prisoners? Escape?
“How far away are they? Could we get a signal from Chillicothe out here?” he asked his friend.
‘Hell, Mac. You know as well as I do that as soon they were released from their cells, they climbed the fence, and hauled ass straight up Route 23!’
‘You ain’t lying! Looks like they brought the whole damn gang down here from Columbus?’
“It’s possible,” Dallas replied.
Josh quickly picked up the handset. “This is Mother Goose transmitting on twenty-seven-point-one-eight-five megahertz. Frank? Mac? What’s your twenty, over?”
“Mother Goose? I don’t know that handle, identify yourself,” the man ordered.
“Not on an open channel. That’ll have to suffice. Do you need assistance over?”
“Fine, have it your way! This is Frank Johnston. The town of Chillicothe is currently under assault from an unknown number of hostiles and hell yes we could use some help!”
“ETA forty five minutes! Hold on! Help’s coming!”
Chapter 10
When Dallas and James returned from Virginia, they briefed the group on the state of the roads and the towns they blew through trying to get back to Ohio. What they saw and encountered was merely a mild precursor to what was to come, and Josh knew it. Therefore, he insisted on prepping one of the deuce and half’s for just such a call.
As a result, no matter what, a vehicle would always be loaded, fueled, and in the barn ready to roll. In theory, all they would need was their jacket and weapon. Since getting the engineers out of the park in a moment’s notice was next to impossible, they agreed to stage their kits along with some useful ‘counter measures’ in the back. In addition to their helmets, body armor, and what not, the truck also contained a crate with three bazooka rounds, launcher, a half dozen claymores with two clackers and wiring, plus Josh’s .50 BMG.
Once all of that was decided, his oldest friend had quipped, ‘If we need more than that, we shouldn’t have left the damn house!’
At Hoplite’s insistence though, the deuce was also loaded with extra diesel from the abandoned train, enough food from Josh’s stash for six guys for three days, several two man tents, and sleeping bags. After the setback on the mountain, Dallas even managed to swipe Katherine’s night vision headsets.
“The girls don’t know where we’re going do they?” Josh asked Sam from the driver’s seat of the cab.
“Nah, they’re over at the park helping Basilia with her medical team. I’ll put you down on the log as a half day barter trip. I figured you could tell them once you’re home,” his fiancé answered.
He smiled back warmly. “Thanks. We’ll radio as soon as we can. Couple of hours at most.”
Sam climbed up on the foot hold, leaned in the window, and gave him a kiss. “Please be careful.”
“I will,” he replied as he turned the key and started the massive diesel motor.
Once they were clear of the barn, Sam closed the doors behind them.
“How long do you think it’ll take before she remembers that Javy is in the Chillicothe prison hospital?” Dallas asked.
His friend glanced is the driver’s side mirror in time to see Samantha raise her hands to her brow and start rubbing her temples.
“Right about now,” he replied as he watched her kicking at the frozen sand and gravel in the driveway in frustration.
* * *
When Route 50 merged with Route 35 three miles south of Chillicothe, Josh reached out and hit the roof of the deuce. Thick black smoke could be seen rising up off in the distance. James, Gregg, and Hoplite had busied themselves the entire trip by checking weapons and gear. Everything was loaded and ready to go by the time he gave his signal. The only thing left to do was load a round in the bazooka.
As they neared, tracer fire could be seen emanating from the Route 50 bridge. Whoever was doing the firing was raining holy hell down on the buildings below. The entire span across the Scioto River was littered with haphazardly parked vehicles. It didn’t take long to realize that the acrid smoke was coming from both the nearby structures and the cars on the road.
Without warning, Gregg launched the rocket over the roof of the deuce. Josh and Dallas watched in amazement as the track went straight into a cluster of automobiles where the tracers had originated. A massive explosion and accompanying fireball obliterated whoever was in there.
Hoplite quickly reloaded the tube and armed the second shot as they progressed closer to the vehicular logjam. On the backend of the pile up, several men scattered and tried to advance toward other operable vehicles at the far end of the bridge. They didn’t get very far before a cacophony of three-round bursts exited the buildings below.
Once the truck’s approach was spotted, small weapons fire began sporadically heading their direction. The two men in the cab crouched down and ducked as low as they could while still managing to navigate their way through the chicane of smoldering cars. Rounds pinged off the fenders.
“Holy crap!” Dallas exclaimed as
James awoke the .50 over his head and blew a man’s leg off. In less than a minute, while the driver kept his steering movements smooth and his low speed constant, his friend efficiently worked the bolt, acquired the targets called out by Hoplite, and emptied the massive five round magazine. None of the targeted got back up.
No sooner did the long range rifle go silent as a second rocket exited the tube. Another large explosion closed the end of the bridge from escape.
The fireball had barely exhausted the available oxygen as an armed contingent of residents began pouring out of the buildings and advancing up the hill of the exit ramp. The five men from McArthur emptied from the deuce as well.
“Shoot and scoot, two by two. I’ll cover the rear,” Josh commanded. “Dallas, you and Hoplite are up.”
As one pair sprang up to provide covering fire, the other quickly relocated. Josh, covering their six, moved with the first team in a staggered pattern.
After leap frogging from obstacle to obstacle, Dallas peered around a vehicle that had leaked its oil and antifreeze all over the road. Three assailants were hiding behind the broken down hulk arguing over whether they should run or fight. He immediately relayed the information to Hoplite, who in turn, provided the appropriate hand signals to the trailing teams.
When Gregg and James unleashed their latest round of covering fire, Dallas went right and Carlos left. Their shots rang off of the vehicles and drew the attention of the gang members. Having had their decision made for them, they immediately returned several rounds in their direction.
Guess they decided to fight, Dallas thought as he and Hoplite closed in.
With the attacker’s focused elsewhere, the diverging pair exposed themselves from the relative safety of cover and cut the three down.
There was no time to relax as additional shots were heard at the far end of the bridge. The five men from McArthur immediately continued their advance toward it. The group was slowed by the gaping hole in the concrete bridge left by the exploding bazooka round. As they gave it a wide birth, chunks broke off and splashed into the river below.
By the Dawn's Early Light Page 12
