Minus America | Book 5 | Hostile Shores

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Oh, all right. We’ll go after them. Just warn me if you see any danger.”

  He walked by the streaming water and held his palm to grab a little.

  She cawed loudly.

  He playfully splashed it on Poppy, making her fluff out her wings as if she was going to take off, though she never did.

  “Settle down, ‘fraidy cat. It’s only water. I meant real danger.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Cheyenne Mountain, CO

  “Can you believe we drove right by their mondo bunker base?” Emily said, checking another empty room. “Not that we could have destroyed it or anything.”

  “What I want to know is how the US military got the wrong base to begin with. David is either super smart, or the military is super dumb.” He looked over to Emily. “Don’t answer.”

  She brushed hair back from her sweat-covered forehead. “I wasn’t going to make a comment about my military. I’m the commander-in-chief, don’t forget. But it worries me how smart David really is. Tricking us into bombing the wrong target doesn’t worry me nearly as much as how he manufactured a superweapon right under our noses, like Tabby told us about. Where did his army get the technology?”

  Ted had wondered the same thing ever since he’d seen the empty clothes inside the hangar at Andrews. While there was some relief it wasn’t the hand of God sucking up his disciples and leaving the rest to fight it out good-versus-evil style, it was disturbing to think humanity could rise to such sterile means of destruction. That knowledge hardened his resolve to put an end to it.

  “I don’t know. Right now, we have to worry about this Cold War-era bunker. Where the hell is the radio room?” They’d checked the first two buildings and only found the offices either filled with 1960s tables and chairs, or completely empty. The base had clearly been underutilized of late.

  “Here we go,” Emily said with pep. “Finally.”

  Ted rushed through the two glass doors into what was obviously a command center. Rows of computer terminals were set up in front of a giant screen on the far wall, as if the screen was the teacher and the computer operators were the students. Another table sat off to one side, lined with dozens of radios.

  He was immediately at home. Almost exactly as he’d found the radios back at the National Guard base in Harrisburg, he hopped onto one at NORAD.

  “CQ, CQ, this is—” He considered if there was any reason to hide his location. At first, he thought not. It would be better to identify himself and make sure Kyla was alive and keeping well away from NORAD. But then he realized there was some value in being dead. If David’s people were listening, they’d know he and Emily had survived the drive into the bunker. They might send more ordnance to attack them. He also couldn’t use ‘Hailey-boo,’ the handle he’d used back on Long Island, in case David already knew it had been him. “A downed pilot. I repeat, this is a downed pilot. Is anyone out there? Calling CQ and listening.”

  He and Emily sat in silence, listening to static for several seconds.

  “It’s going to take some time,” she began.

  Ted tapped the keys a few more times and called out from the bunker.

  “Look around at the computers,” he advised. “See if you can find any active data links. Maybe we can talk to someone else on the defense network.”

  “I wish Kyla was here,” she commented.

  “Me too,” he replied. “She lives for this kind of stuff.”

  “Did you know she was into programming and hacking? You know, back in the day?” While Emily spoke, she sat at the closest terminal.

  “No idea. My sister told me she’d gone to school for tech, but it never seemed pressing to know more about it. In fact, I spent more time in amazement my baby niece was old enough to be in college than I did asking what she was doing there.”

  “Time flies,” she answered mechanically.

  “Find anything?” he asked after a few minutes of mutual silence.

  “Nope,” she said, hopping to the next terminal.

  He kept at the radio, calling out for a few minutes, then resting for a few. During one of his pauses, he figured he’d ask a personal question. “Did you ever want kids?”

  She looked over to him. “Don’t get into politics. Once you do, there’s never a time when you aren’t in a campaign, or putting out a fire, or being invited to speak at some cocktail party, which is a more pleasant name for a campaign stop. Such a world wasn’t something I dreamed of as a little girl, but once I was inside the tornado, there was no way I’d bring a little one into that…”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” he said, smiling.

  Her chestnut eyes seemed to search for hidden meaning, though he had none. It wasn’t meant to make her reevaluate her entire life. Finally, she answered. “I’m forty-five. That ship has sailed.”

  “I think you’d be one of the youngest presidents in US history. I’m sure you could figure out a way to fit a child into your schedule, no matter what age you are.”

  She turned skeptical. “Why are you asking?”

  He shrugged playfully. “Well, we did just get engaged under five nuclear explosions. If we get through this pre-honeymoon from Hell, I’m curious what kind of homemaker you’d be. Whether I could expect a barefoot and pregnant Emily Williams.” He deliberately pushed her buttons, as they’d been under too much stress of late.

  As expected, she stood up and came his way. “I have nothing against mothers who stay at home, but my life has taken me in a totally different direction. I can’t—”

  She’d gotten close enough to grab. He immediately put his finger over her mouth. “I think you’d be the best homemaker in the world, if that was your calling. If you were, I’d be the happiest man in the world, too. However, we’re neck-deep in a global war. Our fates as husband and wife will not be your typical white-picket fence and pancakes for breakfast. Not for a long time. But, I have to admit, after seeing the lengths my sister went to make her last words about saving Kyla, that’s a gig I would happily sign up for.”

  “Make me ten years younger and you have a deal,” she said, kissing his cheek.

  He wanted to pull her closer and dial up the intimacy, but the radio crackled to life, startling them both by how loud the voice was.

  “We hear you, co-pilot. Be advised, we are unable to send help. I repeat, we are unable to send help.”

  To Emily, he said, “I didn’t even tell them where I was. Not very neighborly of them.”

  “That’s okay,” he said into the handset. “I only wanted someone to know I was still alive.”

  Cheyenne Mountain Tunnels, CO

  The tunnel kept getting smaller as they walked. Instead of a wide tunnel with red lights on each side, there was now one red light on the right side, and it was spaced out about every fifty feet. If she and Audrey held hands, they could each touch the outer walls. And, while they weren’t going down into a swimming pool, there was an inch of water on the walkway.

  A tremor rumbled the walls.

  “If this water is radioactive, we’ll have to ditch our shoes when we get done with this walk.” Tabby said it while once again brushing her hand on her jeans. She had absolutely no knowledge of how radiation worked, but her brain made it feel as if that hand was buzzing with energy.

  “Are you sure we need to go on?” Peter asked. “I won’t lie. The shaking has me worried.”

  “This has to lead somewhere,” she replied, hoping the logic made sense. Why would anyone build the tunnel if it only went to a dead end? Unless the men who made it never finished. There were more than a few of those dead ends back in Bonne Terre.

  To prove she wasn’t afraid, she kept walking, but carefully placed each foot to avoid splashing the dry parts of her shoes. Soon the others followed, using her method.

  “The walls are soaked,” Peter commented, a few minutes later.

  “Just keep walking,” she advised, channeling her inner tour guide.

  As they went on, one of the lights was ou
t up ahead. In the shadows, the walls glistened. A trickle of water came from ahead.

  “Okay, you guys wait here. I’ll go on and see if there’s anything there.”

  She could tell by the looks on their faces that Peter and Audrey were thinking about accepting her offer. However, when the couple glanced at each other, they seemed to bolster themselves.

  Audrey spoke for them both. “We’ll follow you until the end. We don’t know if it’s radioactive water, right? We’ll go real fast before it can get on us too much.”

  Peter nodded.

  She prayed Audrey was right about the radiation. She imagined the water lapping at her feet was warm, but so far, it hadn’t soaked into her sneakers. It helped maintain the illusion she was going to be fine.

  “All right. Stick close. We’re going to move as fast as we can and end this.”

  Minutes later, after a few sharp turns in the passageway, the walls had closed in so she could touch both sides at the same time. If it kept getting narrower, none of them would even fit. Whatever the designers had planned by shrinking it, she figured they were reaching the end of the line.

  The water was also now deep enough for both feet to be soaked. To her relief, the water was chilled, rather than hot, but it didn’t bring much comfort. The tricks and nightmares in her mind convinced her the mountain above was molten magma, laced with radiation. Everything around her was now infected with those murderous particles.

  A short time later, as she was about to break into a run to get it over with that much faster, the tube punched her out in a twenty-by-twenty square room with bare concrete walls and a dozen or more circular grates, as if it was a prison for beach balls. To her shock, the air was fresh.

  “This is it,” she declared, pointing to one of the grates near the base of the wall on the far side.

  “How can you tell?” Audrey replied, sucking in the fresh air.

  She pointed. “Because I can see green trees in sunlight down this one.”

  They all scurried over. To her surprise, the metal grate swung inward without any issues. “It looks like they didn’t expect visitors,” she said, looking into the long tube.

  “Where do you think we are?” Peter asked.

  “Is it radioactive outside?” Audrey added.

  To her eyes, it seemed as if the trees and sunlight were real. It wasn’t the light of a nuclear fire, at least not one on the ground, and the trees seemed intact. It gave her hope they’d found a real escape route.

  “There’s only one way to find out.” She climbed into the next tunnel.

  The light beckoned her.

  CHAPTER 8

  Hoover Dam, NV

  “That didn’t go well,” Kyla said to Meechum.

  “What did you expect? The colonel was simply going to hand over the microphone and let you talk to his boss? There’s no one in the military who would allow it.”

  She felt a bit defensive. “He did ask his boss if he wanted to speak with me. So that was a bonus.”

  The Marine put her hand on her hip. “And did he?”

  Kyla couldn’t help sounding like a wet cat coming in from the rain. “No.”

  “Hmm. Sounds like Avery is at least open to what you have to say. It’s probably because he responds to the damsel in distress scenario you represent. I, however, wouldn’t succumb to such things. I would have told you to get lost.” She snickered, but Kyla didn’t perk up, which made her switch gears. “Forget all that. Just go back in there and get to know the men a little. Show some interest in what they’re doing. As long as you keep out of their way, and don’t act like a stalker, they’re going to keep giving you the benefit of the doubt. When the time comes to help your uncle, the good colonel may be more inclined to do so.”

  She couldn’t believe what Meechum was suggesting. “I should go in there and put on an act?”

  Meechum smiled brightly. “Put your body to work, girl.”

  Kyla was immediately shy about her looks, and it must have showed.

  “I’m kidding, dudette, you know me. I’m messing with you. But seriously, what else do you have to do? Hang out in there, not back in that miserable closet where it looks like you were heading.”

  She’d been heading that way, in fact. After not hearing any good news on the radio, there didn’t seem to be a point to sticking around. The soldiers were preparing for war. She figured she’d go somewhere out of the way. But Meechum was right. If she wanted to contribute to their situation, she needed to be where the action was. The realization made her eye the Marine with an undercurrent of suspicion.

  “Why are you out here, instead of in there?”

  Meechum smiled, beckoning her closer. “I’m searching for a way out of this place. Not the dam. I already know how to get out. As I sweep the perimeter, I’m searching for a working vehicle so we can drive back to Colorado, should I find a way to, ahem, misinterpret my orders.”

  “I should never have doubted you,” she said dryly.

  “You doubted me?” Meechum said with surprise. “After all we’ve been through?”

  They shared a quick laugh, then the Marine stepped back.

  “I’ll be in the command room if you need me,” Kyla said a little too loud.

  Meechum nodded, then resumed her walk down the hallway.

  On the short jaunt back to the Hoover Dam control room, she wondered how she could re-enter without looking like she wanted something. The men weren’t idiots. They’d immediately suspect she was there for a reason. She needed an excuse of some kind.

  Kyla halted outside the door, desperate for something smooth to say to the colonel. Maybe ask him about family. Or discuss helicopters. Whatever it took.

  It was harder than she thought. As the seconds ticked by, her time standing there was bordering on psychotic. She hadn’t felt that way since a blind date a long time ago. She’d gone into a bathroom to get away from the guy and dreaded opening the door to go out and see him again. Now her problem was going in the door…

  “CQ, CQ, this is…a downed pilot. I repeat, this is a downed pilot. Is anyone out there? Calling CQ and listening.”

  Kyla stormed into the room, all thoughts of subtlety blown away. “That’s my effing uncle! I’d know him anywhere!” Kyla headed for the radio, but Avery was somehow prepared for her.

  “Secure her,” he said calmly to Lambert, who sat at a nearby computer terminal.

  The man reached out and grabbed her arm. Not with violence, but with enough force to capture her. She’d made it close to Avery. He was at the terminal, as if lost in thought.

  “You have to tell him we know it’s him. We know he’s alive. And then you have to ask him where he is. How he survived. And then—”

  Avery lifted a hand toward her. “Please. Be quiet. I need to think this through.”

  She bucked a bit in Lambert’s grasp but didn’t actively fight the soldier who had helped her. She needed allies, not enemies. That, at least, she remembered from Meechum’s advice. “Sir, I swear it’s him. It means we can go back.”

  The colonel finally keyed the microphone. “We hear you, co-pilot. Be advised, we are unable to send help. I repeat, we are unable to send help.”

  When he sat back, seemingly satisfied at what he said, he turned to meet Kyla’s eyes.

  She hoped he sensed the disappointment flaring through her eyeballs.

  Fine. I’ll find him myself, she thought.

  Cheyenne Mountain, CO

  “Wait a second,” Ted said, going over the brief exchange. “I never told them I was a co-pilot. Why would he say that?”

  Emily looked at him with confusion.

  “The guy on the other end,” he went on, “said I was a co-pilot. I only said I was a pilot. Why would he use that specific reply?”

  She shrugged but seemed ready to guess. “Because…” She rolled her hand, asking him to save her.

  “Because he somehow knows me,” he speculated.

  Emily became animated. “The good guys coming to
rescue us?”

  He pursed his lips and blew outward, thinking of the alternatives. “Or it’s David’s people. If they know we’re still here—”

  She shook her head. “No way. If David knew you were here, or any of his people did, he would have taken the time to tell you they were coming to finish the job. You know, stuff asshole villains do.”

  “So, an ally?” he suggested.

  “Maybe if I got on?” she stepped closer to the microphone.

  “Be my guest, Madam President, just remember we can’t give anything away.”

  “Even I know that,” she poked back at him.

  In a few seconds, she lit up the microphone. “This is Glendo the Friendly Witch. I’ve fallen off my broom and want to get out of this house which has fallen on top of me. Would anyone out there know how we might do that?”

  The static hissed for almost a full minute. He was ready to take the microphone back, and Emily appeared willing to surrender it.

  A female voice responded. “This is Deanna Tower of the flying monkey platoon. Our wings are clipped, but we will try to find how to escape the house by consulting the wizard. That is all I am allowed to say, other than me and a certain lioness are safe.”

  “Yes!” Ted belted out.

  His niece had remembered OPSEC rules and passed along all the information using references only he and Emily would know. D. Tower meant Devils Tower. It proved it was her. The mention of clipped wings suggested they had or had lost air transport. Since Kyla was allowed to speak, she was most likely with friendlies. Over the phone the day before, she’d mentioned she’d been captured by a task force of special forces. Consulting the wizard had to mean Kyla was going to try to find an answer for him about how to get out of NORAD. And the lioness could only be Lance Corporal Meechum.

  “Tell her we’ll wait to hear back from her, but to hurry. Tell her the house has a mouse infestation problem.” He wasn’t sure how to more clearly convey his issues with Rando’s men.

  After doing as instructed, he and Emily sat back and waited for a confirmation. Without thinking, he found his hand in hers.