by Nick Cole
So the guy... a kid really, who brought the movie over after work, I said I’d give him a hundred dollar tip if he did, we had a drink, I think. I checked my wallet and all my travel money’s still there.
So where did he go?
I’m going to need some more booze if this party’s gonna keep going. I should be dead by 3 a.m. “if” I’m infected with the virus. Big if.
Liquor stores close at two.
I should bust a move and get that liquor. It’s not going to get it itself.
I know I’m a drunk. I mean, I know I have a problem. I’ve had one since college. No one - I mean no one - knows how bad it really is. Not my parents, not my college roommates. Not even Jason, probably. No one ever figured it out.
Maybe it even got better while I was with Jason?
I never noticed before now, but I guess it kinda did.
When I woke up a few minutes ago, my engagement ring was missing. I thought the kid from the video store had maybe stolen it while I was blacked out or unconscious. But he hadn’t. I’d put it in the secret pouch inside my suitcase.
It’s a beautiful ring. Not just expensive. Jason’s the best broker on the Street, he can afford a lot. But it’s classy too. Using the word “classy” might be a dead giveaway that I don’t know what I’m talking about. But it’s got style. And then there’s the rock. Big, but not too big. Big enough. In certain lights, there’s almost a red glimmer deep down inside of it.
If anyone would’ve ever told me that someday I’d get a ring like that from someone who actually loved me, I wouldn’t have believed it. I still don’t.
Maybe that’s for the best. Leaving it in the pouch might be for the best. I need to tell Jason the truth, about everything, before I put it back on. About the drinking. About Matt. About everything.
What’s left of our relationship after that, if there is anything left, might be worth something.
My drinking has been worse. I mean nothing like tonight, but since the car accident last year it had gotten a lot better. There are some vacations I took where I did nothing but drink. And I can drink a lot. But this is by far the most I’ve ever drank. Still, it doesn’t seem to affect me much. Then all of a sudden, Whamo!
VOICE MEMO 8
Still no one out. I know Orange County rolls up its sidewalks at nine but still, this is the Gold Coast. This is where the Lakers’ biggest star lives. You’d think there’d be some kind of late-night crowd.
Nothing. It’s very quiet out there tonight.
I found a liquor store and bought three cases of booze.
That’s the most booze I’ve ever bought at one time.
That’s crazy.
Or at least, that’s what the guy behind the counter must’ve thought.
I told him I was having a party.
He said, “Some party.”
Tanner as Chas347 has been tweeting me since this afternoon.
When 2 a.m. rolls around, I’ll tell him I’m at the Pacific Hotel. Then he can drive down here to Newport in the dead of night and pick me up. By three, I’ll either be dead or have a clean bill of health.
That’s my only hope.
Which is kinda sad. I’ll either be dead, or not dead.
I’m down to the basics here.
Yikes.
VOICE MEMO 9
It’s two o’clock in the morning. Just after. I finally tweeted Chas347 and told him where I was. Room 709. He said he was on his way.
Right, Tanner. I know it’s really you.
(Drinking sounds)
VOICE MEMO 10
I never did set the record straight, did I?
Fifteen minutes until Tanner gets here. I should be... I don’t know, rife with symptoms. What were they? Sweating, vomiting. Cramps. Bleeding. Muscle soreness. I’ve got none of those. On the whole, I’d have to say... I feel great. Really great.
Then again, I just drank all the booze in the world, so there’s that to consider. But when I look in the mirror, I feel... I look good. Twenty-eight. Blond. Short hair, sort of French model. Muscular. I do Pilates, you know. I saw the photos of the people who’d contracted the Chinese Virus.
I don’t look like a walking corpse.
Jason liked to tell me I looked like the singer from Blondie. Yeah, that band from the eighties.
Still, Tanner’s probably gonna whack me. I knew it from the minute I met that guy, he’s evil. You can see that in people, sometimes. He’s the guy who does someone else’s dirty work and doesn’t mind a whole lot.
I tried Matt’s room again. No answer.
So, for the record...
Jason, if you ever hear this, and I don’t think you will, I’m... love you. I love you. I’m in love with you. I want to say I’m sorry for the whole Matt thing. It didn’t even feel like me who was doing... that. I’m sorry for lying about my drinking. I never should have said “yes” to your proposal. At least, not until I told you how bad my drinking’s been, and then went to rehab.
I didn’t lie about Matt. But then again, I haven’t had a chance to. So maybe I would’ve.
No Jason, I’m sorry for lying to you about who I really am. I may look normal, but I’m not. I’m sick, Jason. I’m not a monster, I’m just sick, that’s all. I’m sorry you fell in love with a girl who looked like Blondie from the eighties. I wish I could’ve been someone else. You were the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I should call you now, but you’re probably still sleeping. Big day on Wall Street tomorrow. I bet you’ll make a million dollars.
I wasn’t worth it.
But you are.
You’re worth a million dollars... to me.
(Drinking sounds)
VOICE MEMO 11
(Whispering) I’m turning this on to record my meeting with Tanner. Chas347 tweeted from the parking lot. He’s on his way up. I just heard the elevator in the hall. It’s after three in the morning. I know Tanner’ll find my phone. But maybe somehow these memos will end up in the record. Maybe someone will know. Maybe someone with a kind heart will tell Jason I loved him.
Do I have too much faith in humanity?
(Drinking Sounds, light knocking)
Here I go.
(Male Voice) Are you Alex Watt?
(Female Voice) Did Tanner send you? I’m not sick. I’m still alive, see? It’s been eighteen hours since whatever happened at the lab happened. I’m good.
(Male Voice) I don’t know any Tanner, lady.
(Female Voice) Are you going to kill me?
(Male Voice) Can we talk inside the room?
(Movement sounds)
(Drinking sounds)
(Female Voice) (Whispering.) For the record, Chas347 is a good looking giant black dude. (Full voice) Drink Chas, or do I call you Mr. 347?
(Male voice) Are these all... did you drink all these by yourself, lady?
(Female Voice) Well, there was a guy here from the video store, I think he had a drink.
(Male Voice) You have a problem.
(Female Voice) “Hmm... I’ll have to look into that.”
(Drinking sounds)
(Female Voice) So if you’re not Tanner, and Tanner didn’t send you, then who are you and what do you want?”
(Male Voice) My name is Les McMath. Lester McMath the Third. Lt. Commander, U.S. Navy.
(Female Voice) So you’re with them?
(Male Voice) Listen, lady, I don’t know what’s going on. I mean, I probably know more than you. Maybe you know some of the story that I don’t. But, I’m betting you’re scared. I’m betting you’re not with the government. This Tanner guy, I don’t know him personally, but I know the type. He’s probably the Shot Caller for JSOC.
(Female Voice) The what?
(Male Voice) It means he’s overseeing the operation, for JSOC. Joint Special Operations Command.
(Female Voice) Sounds right. I mean... should I be telling you this?
(Drinking sounds)
(Male Voice) What you should do, is stop drinking.
(Fe
male Voice) If I stop, I don’t feel so hot.
(Male Voice) Have you had any of the symptoms?
(Female Voice) No, nothing like that. I’m fine. I’m just an alcoholic.
(Male Voice) You haven’t had any of the signs since the last time you were at the lab?”
(Female Voice) No. I’m fine. Really. Does this mean I’ll make it?
(Male Voice) I don’t know. I’m just a pilot.
(Female Voice) I don’t understand.
(Male Voice) I need to tell you something and I think you might be the only person I can trust right now. You and your partner Matt Hastings. Long story short, I think something big is happening. You’re the only civilians involved. The rest are government. Chances are, they’d kill me if they knew I was still alive.
(Female Voice) I don’t understand... were you at the Dome, McMath?
(Drinking sounds)
(Male Voice) Lady, I don’t know what’s going on at the Dome. I mean, I have an idea, but I don’t know for sure what’s really happening.
(Female Voice) Then how do you know about me and Matt?
(Male Voice) I swiped the visitor log sheet from the gate. You two were listed as representatives of some civilian contractor. Gorham and Kennicker. You lawyers?
(Female Voice) No, we do marketing. So you don’t know what’s going on inside the Dome?
(Male Voice) I have a guess.
(Female Voice) Yeah, and what’s your guess?
(Male Voice) There’s a dead Chinese peasant in there.
VOICE MEMO 12
This is Alexandra Watt speaking. I’m making this audio recording with Lester McMath, Lt. Commander U.S. Navy, on Thursday night, no wait... Friday Morning, August 31st. It’s about four thirty-five. The sun will be up soon. So there’s that to look forward to. Lt. Commander, should I call you that, or just Commander?
(Male Voice) McMath will do fine. But, for the record... my name and rank is Lt. Commander Lester McMath. On the books I’m assigned to the Third Naval Air Wing out of San Diego. But that’s just for show. My real assignment is to fly a “speck” Ops C-130 for JSOC and report to Admiral Childs directly.
On the fourteenth of August, this year, I was ordered to fly a covert ops mission into Mainland China and drop a SEAL Team near Yulin, north of the border with Vietnam. Two nights later, flying nap-of-the-earth, I landed my bird in a field just west of the city. The SEAL Team boarded with one passenger. Or, should I say, what was left of the SEAL Team. Only eight members of the twenty-nine man team made it back to the bird.
For the duration of the flight, the deck, the flight deck that is, was off limits to the team and vice versa. Only Chief Jones had contact with the SEALs.
We were told to head out to sea off the Chinese Coast and bear toward the South West Coast of the United States. We refueled twice while airborne and didn’t get our exact heading until much later in the flight. Eventually we were vectored in to Long Beach, California.
(Female Voice) That’s when things began to get... bad, Lt. Commander... McMath, I mean?
(Male Voice) Real bad. Things got real, real bad.
We got our approach clearance into Los Alamitos, but over the outer marker we were waved off and told to head back out to sea. Clearance came from an AWACS, which was unusual. Those things only fly over strategic operations areas. Theatres of war, basically. So what one was doing over Los Angeles, I don’t know. But whatever was happening, it was big. For the last few years, flying JSOC, I’ve gotten used to that type of thing.
I took the controls from Allen... that’s Lt. Allen, my Co-Pilot, James. He was a really good man. So, I took the controls as he started getting our new heading and altitude from Command.
It was right about then we heard the gunfire, sustained and for about a minute, coming from the cargo deck in the back of the aircraft.
Allen radioed Command, telling them we had a problem in the back. We got an Admiral Solomon on the line who told us to pay no attention to what was going on in back of the aircraft and fly the course heading we’d been given.
So I flew it. What else was I supposed to do?
Then the door light indicator from the rear cargo deck went on. Someone was opening the cargo door. I called the Chief and tried to get him to tell me what was going on back there. No answer. He was a good man too.
Solomon told us to descend to fifteen hundred and fly past the Queen Mary, heading out to sea on a compass bearing of two-seven-zero. I told Allen to open the flight crew weapons locker, and executed the turn over Long Beach, heading across the bay toward the peninsula. Terminal Island, off to my right, was all lit up with cranes and tankers. Once we passed over the peninsula where the Queen Mary is docked, and that big Dome where they used to keep the Spruce Goose, I was told to climb to flight level angels one seven, heading course two-seven-zero. Due west.
I don’t know what happened on the cargo deck. But fifteen hundred is Jump Altitude, and one of those SEALs must have gone out the back with the Chinese guy. After that, Command ordered us to climb to altitude over the ocean. Mission complete, I guess.
I told Allen to go in back and check the cargo deck.
A minute later, he called up front to the flight deck and told me they were all dead. Including Chief Jones. Like I said, good man. Fine man. Wife and five kids.
I don’t know how much longer after that, maybe a couple of seconds, we’re climbing through five-thousand, when the ground-to-air missile alarm went off in our electronics package. I yanked my bird to port and leveled out, popping flares, but the missile hit us pretty quickly.
(Long Pause)
(Female voice) What’d you do then?
(Male Voice) I ejected.
(Short Pause)
(Female Voice) Go on. You need to finish.
(Male Voice) Why don’t you share some of that booze?
(Sounds, indeterminate)
(Drinking sounds, near and far)
(Male Voice) I punched out. Came to in the water, maybe a few miles offshore.
(Female voice) What did you do then?
(Male Voice) I made my way to shore. Then I spent the next week hiding out in motels. I can’t imagine they think I survived. They should’ve had a Search and Rescue team out looking for me in the water. But I think they were trying to put this operation together on the fly. So my guess, and this is nothing but conjecture, they didn’t have any kind of SAR team on standby to look for survivors because they didn’t want there to be any survivors.
(Female voice) So who do you think shot you down?
(Male voice) I don’t know who pulled the trigger. Destroyer offshore out of San Diego could’ve done it. Stinger team on the peninsula for sure. I don’t know who pushed the button. But JSOC ordered whoever it was that did it, to do it.
(Female Voice) Why?
(Male voice) Cleaning up.
(Drinking sounds)
(Male Voice) They probably figured everybody on board... well let’s put it this way, someone on board, was likely infected with whatever’s going on in China. Best way to handle it was to get their operative, whoever he was, off the plane and into the water near the Dome for extraction.
(Female Voice) Special Operator Badshelter. Does that name sound familiar?
(Male voice) Never met him. Never met any of ‘em. They probably got this Badshelter to secure the prisoner and jump after he took out the rest of the team and Chief Jones.
(Female voice) Why kill the team?
(Male voice) I survived in the water and made it back to shore. Every pilot gets a standard escape and evasion course, but when I started flying JSOC, I got a little more. Those SEALs on the other hand, it would’ve been no problem for any one of them to follow the first jumper out and make it back to shore. Even if they were wounded. Command was probably trying to make sure any survivors on the Seal Team didn’t do just that when they shot us down. Coulda’ been their plan to cut down on exposure to the virus. But that’s just a guess.
Historical Artist’s
Note: I have allowed the following Incident Investigator’s notes to remain in this portion of the transcript. While adding color and depth to the overall piece, most of the historical data is common knowledge. But, in this particular account, the Investigator who compiled and archived these transcripts shortly after the Plague, during the second phase of Reconstruction, has his own story to tell. His summation, at the end of this section of the piece, of the times and events, is heartbreaking, even so far removed from those dark days.
INVESTIGATOR’S NOTE: Early reports of the outbreak may have been recorded within three days of Lt. Commander McMath’s account of the Shoot Down. Along the coast from Terminal Island to Palos Verdes, criminal activity was suspiciously high in the last two weeks before the initial outbreak of the Plague. Police department records that survive indicate an above average incidence of bizarre behavior and violence in the days leading up to the generally accepted start date of the Plague. Though not confirmed, it would appear that some members of the SEAL team, possibly infected and assumed terminated, may have escaped after Special Operator Badshelter jumped with the test subject. These reports all exist well prior to September 1, the officially recognized start date of the Plague.
-F. Darrow, Sr. Review Investigator, Department of Reconstruction, New California Republic.
(Male Voice) So they killed ‘em. They killed ‘em all.
(Female Voice) He. Badshelter. He killed them all. (Pause)
(Male Voice) They. They killed those men.
VOICE MEMO 13
McMath is asleep. Curled up near the window in a chair. Sun’s not up yet, but it’s getting light in the east. Lots of fog. It’s actually really nice.
McMath wants us to take this public.
I don’t see that we have much of a choice. If I wasn’t sure whether Tanner would whack me or not, after McMath’s story, there’s little doubt that’s the plan.
Our plan, on the other hand, is to buy a car with cash, or steal one. Then drive back to New York. That should take two days driving in shifts. We’ll go right to a contact I have at the network. We’ll give them the story.
