He was shy, but he pulled the chair back and slid in, putting his cup on the table in front of him. I thought he was going to stay silent for the rest of the night, but he finally looked over at me. “I couldn’t believe it when you guys had coffee.”
I nodded. “Mankind requires certain things to make life tolerable. Coffee is one of those things.”
He was quiet for a while longer. I could tell he was watching the laptop screen. He kept leaning closer and closer toward it. Then he pointed at it. “That’s a Farnsworth Helo-Drone, isn’t it?”
I gave him a sharp look and bunched my shoulders. “I don’t know.” I pointed to a pile of wood scrap that we had left over after uncrating the drones. “The boxes are over there; the names should be on them.”
He frowned then pointed at my screen again. “See those letters in the lower right-hand corner of your screen? They say ‘FHD.’ That’s for Farnsworth Helo-Drone.”
“I have a feeling you’re not just a coffee transporter.” I held out my fist. “Virgil Cole.”
The lad tapped my fist with his own. “Dwayne Olafson. Yeah, I had the opportunity to fly a few drones back before all this stuff started. My Dad was an engineer for the electric company, and they used drones to inspect all their high equipment. He let me fly them on his days off. They used several different kinds, but the Farnsworth types were always the most fun. They’re the easiest to fly.”
I grinned and patted the youngster on the back. “Dwayne? I think you and I are going to be good friends. By the way, you work for me now.”
Chapter 20
I was joined by Pepper and Mona at precisely three o’clock the next morning. Mona was yawning, and Pepper, both of them, were sipping from coffee cups.
“Oh wow,” Pepper said, “I haven’t been up to this early since my slumber party days.”
Mona’s yawn infected me and fired back with one of my own. “It sounds like you have some riveting stories behind that comment, but I’m just too tired to hear them right now.” I held my hand out to indicate the two laptop screens. One was dark; the other was showing the roof section of the hangar where the Mojados were roosting.
“Nothing seems to be moving out there. Let me show you a few things, and then I’m heading for my pillow.”
I had them watch while I retrieved the drone that was in the air. While we waited for it to arrive, I started up the other one which had been charging so it could warm up. I also showed both of the girls how to toggle between night vision and thermal imaging modes. They both sat behind the control stations and played with them until they appeared to have it down pat. Pepper had already flown one and brought it back safely earlier on the previous day, so I wasn’t too worried.
I looked around quickly to make sure that Doctor and Mrs. Johnson were not on watch, then gave Pepper a brief but (I think) passionate kiss. All those things taken care of, I headed to our suite and crawled into bed.
“Virgil, wake up, something’s happening.”
I started at the voice coming from my walkie and spent a few moments casting my eyes around the room and trying to figure out, who I was, where I was and what was happening.
“Virgil? Son, you’d better get out here; something’s going down.”
I grabbed the handset. “Okay, Pops, comin’.”
I pulled on my black cargo pants from the previous day and splashed some water on my face from the sink. I wore my undershirt to bed, so I wasn’t worried about finding a clean shirt, I just strode outside with my feet crammed in my boots sans socks.
It was like a beehive in the compound. Everyone was rushing around, filling wheeled carts with equipment and loading rifle magazines. Pops, the Major and Sharon were over by the wall, standing on one of the benches. Pops was pointing downward, and Sharon had her arm around his waist. I must have still been dragging my feet because Pops seemed to hear me coming. He swiveled his head, and I could see his serious expression. Sharon looked worried too.
I reached them and hopped up on the bench, looking out over the defensive wall. I don’t know what I expected to see, maybe a horde of Ragers or a few hundred gang bangers, but I saw nothing. I turned back to Pops with my eyebrows raised, and he held a finger to his lips and pointed at the Major who was now holding his walkie to his ear.
I didn’t say anything, and neither did anyone else for a few seconds. Then the Major clicked the send button.
“So that’s it? They’re not trying to approach any closer, just waiting for us to respond?” He released the button and listened to the response for a moment then transmitted again. “Okay, stay right there, Myrna. Under no circumstances are you to leave those screens unmonitored, Okay?”
He lowered the walkie and faced us. “Myrna says there are three men at the main gate on Academy. They are holding a big sign that says ‘We want to talk, no tricks.’ One is holding a white flag.” He leaned over to shout at Pepper. “Can you see any indications of more people around them? Maybe some more vehicles that weren’t there before?”
Pepper was shaking her head as she worked the controls of the drone. “Nothing, Major. No people, no vehicles except for the one they drove to the gate.”
“It’s your call, Dan but I say we need to go down and see what they want. We’ll take two vehicles, each with an M-240 but we’ll keep them concealed unless we need to use them.”
“Let’s do it,” Pops replied.
“I’m going.” My comment was not a request for permission. If Pops was putting himself in harm’s way, I was going to have his back. “I already have experience in using the machine gun from the back of a truck.”
The two men studied my face for a moment then nodded. I limped back toward the mansion, but Sharon ran up behind me and caught me. She turned me around by my shoulder and pressed a rattling pill bottle in my hand.
“Take two of these right now, Virgil. They’ll take your pain away. I want you sharp when you’re protecting Dan.”
I thanked her, and she surprised me by kissing my cheek. I got back to my room, swallowed three pills instead of two and pulled on my socks, shirt, and load vest. I then quickly strapped on my Glock and slung my M4.
There were two of our pickups sitting near the front gate with their engines running when I got back outside. Buck and Jimmy were standing by the big Ford truck that Marcus had brought up the hill. Marcus, George, Isaac and the woman they called Dee were loading things into a dodge.
I reached the Ford and gingerly scooted my way into the back. The pills were already starting to work, blunting the pain from the movement somewhat. When Pops saw me situated inside, he slid into the driver’s seat. Buck and Jimmy got into the front passenger seat and the rear door, respectively.
With no further words, we exited the main gate and followed the smooth paved driveway along the twists and turns that led to the Academy Avenue gate. Just before we reached it, the two drivers stopped, cut their wheels sharply and started to reverse their vehicles down the rest of the hill backward. In this manner, if the situation turned into a firefight, our two big machine guns would be pointed at the enemy.
My first close up look at the people who were trying to kill us struck me as odd. Three men were leaning on the gate, waiting for us as we backed down the road in reverse. Of the three, only one of them looked dangerous to me. He was a big, hulking brute of a man, with wild curly black hair and a mustache that covered most of his lower face. There was a large black man who was buff with big arms and shoulders, but he didn’t have the same glare that I caught in the bigger man’s eyes. Then I noticed the third man. Were they kidding? This guy was supposed to scare us? He was about the same size as Dwayne Olafson.
I checked my weapon for the tenth time and searched my area of responsibility, ready to spot and kill anyone I observed sneaking up on us.
Pops and the Major got out and walked the two or three steps to the gate. The trucks were close enough for us all to hear what they were saying.
The little guy sneered at our representat
ives. He climbed up on one of the cross pieces on the gate so he could look over it. The other two men needed no such additional height.
“Are you kidding me?” The little guy snorted. “We come out here with only us three to talk peace, and you bring all these guys with you? What? We scare you?”
The black man next to him seemed annoyed at his comments. He ignored the little man and nodded to Pops and the Major. “I’m Lieutenant Arlo Washington, U.S. Army…”
The Major cut him off. “No, you’re not. Your commission as an officer was conditional on your oath to protect this country from all enemies, foreign or domestic. You have now become one of those domestic enemies. You’re not an officer; you’re a thug.” He nodded his head to the two gang bangers beside him. “No better than these two.”
The big Hispanic guy was the only one who did not appear to be enraged by the Major’s comments. The little guy looked like he was going to come over the top of the gate, but his big friend grabbed the back of his shirt. The black guy was trying to conceal his anger but his eyes burned.
The big guy spoke, and I was surprised to hear a calm and rational-sounding voice. “My name is Arturo, and this man here is Lobo. Lobo is the chief of Los Mojados. We have come here to offer you terms. Hopefully, we can resolve this without spilling any more blood on either side. Are you interested in hearing what we have to say?”
The little man was shooting daggers at his friend for holding him back, but he was able to get himself under control. He stepped down one level on the gate and visibly forced himself to calm down.
“I’m Dan, this,” he pointed to the Major, “is Bob. We’ll hear what you have to say.”
Lobo couldn’t hold back any longer. “Here’s our offer and it’s the only one you’ll get from us. Pack up your people. Leave everything else in that big castle up there and drive off into the sunset. Leave behind all your guns, your ammunition, your food and anything else you might have up there. It belongs to us now. Refuse, and you’ll all die. That’s our offer, Danny and Bobby.”
Pops took a moment to compose himself before answering. He pointed at Lobo. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. We have tangled with the midget here and his wannabe gangsters three times and kicked their asses each time.”
I heard Jimmy snort in the front seat where he sat cradling his M4.
Pops shifted his pointing finger to Arlo and continued. “We met you and your bunch of heroes as they were trying to sneak attack a small group of survivors in an effort to take their food, guns, and women. The people you intended to victimize picked off a dozen of you with rifle fire then we came in and blew up two-thirds of your vehicles along with their occupants and killed off most of your assault team.” Pops leaned his head toward the Major. “My friend here personally destroyed the truck that this fake lieutenant was in and sent him flying through the air with his pants on fire.”
Arlo snapped his head to the side so he could more closely examine the Major.
The Major took over. “Then, when you thought you would trick us into exposing ourselves and luring us into an ambush by victimizing that same group of survivors, you both got your asses kicked yet again. You came at us with two tanks and over a hundred people. You left with one tank and fewer fighters than you started out with.” His shoulders shook as he laughed.
Pops laughed with him, then stopped and took a step closer to the gate, “And after all that, you think the logical thing for us to do is surrender to the very people whose asses we have been steadily kicking for the last four days? Do I have that right?”
I couldn’t tell who was more enraged at Pops’ words. It was a close contest between the big black guy and the dwarf, but I think the little guy called Lobo won that prize. He threw himself at the gate again, trying to get over the top while his hulking buddy held him back. He made several threats to the big guy’s health, but it seemed to have little effect on the man. I don’t know what the man thought he was going to do if he made it over the gate, Pops or the Major could have easily stopped him with a single punch.
Finally, the man called Arlo leaned over the gate and pointed at Pops. “You think this is a game? You think those earlier encounters were anything but pure, dumb luck? This is the last time we will allow you to get out of here with your lives. Ignore our offer, and I will bring hellfire down upon your heads.”
Pops gave a theatrical shudder and grinned. “Wow! That was so dramatic I peed a little.” Then his expression abruptly changed and his eyes bored a hole into the three men at the gate. “You could be a big help to the surviving people around here, but you elected to go in the other direction, stealing, kidnapping, raping and murdering. Did you really expect us to believe your promises? We wouldn’t get ten feet before you and your collection of cowards would be cutting us down.”
Pops actually spat in their direction then glared at them. “These are our terms. Leave this area, all of you. Leave these people alone and let them get on about the business of survival. If you elect not to do that then, by all means, send us some more of your people for us to kill. How long do you think they will continue to follow your orders when they see their friends bleeding on the ground?”
And with that, Pops wheeled around and started heading back to our truck. I heard the little guy shouting as his friend dragged him away from the gate.
“You’re gonna die today.”
✽✽✽
When we got back up the hill, Pops and the Major jumped into action. Pops went around, checking on all of the sentry posts to ensure everyone knew that an attack was imminent. The Major was bending over the drone table, watching the video feed on the laptop. Pepper was leaning sideways to give him better access and Mona was sitting silently behind them.
I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and looked to see Dwayne Olafson squatting by the fixed-wing drone. He seemed to be going through some kind of checklist as he would look at a manual, then check something on the drone. The fixed-wing was big, much bigger than the helo-types. The fuselage was at least seven feet long and the wingspan even wider. It had state-of-the-art optics and a base station that looked like something one would find in a real airplane.
I couldn’t contain my curiosity, and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t doing anything that might harm the drone, so I walked over to him.
“Does the Major know you’re playing with his drone?”
The lad didn’t even look up at me, so engrossed was he in his actions. “Yeah. I told him I had flown one before and he said to get it ready. Can you hand me that Allen wrench?” He absently pointed in the direction of a group of tools on a piece of cardboard.
I found the wrench and passed it over. “So…you’ve flown one of these big boys before?”
He stopped what he was doing and turned his head to me. “Not actually flown one, but I used to have the tutorial software for this same model. I’ve spent a few dozen hours in simulated flight. It’s not that difficult; the base station makes it easy.”
I studied the complicated-looking control station and shook my head. “I don’t know, Dwayne, it looks complicated to me.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I guess it does look that way, but you only really use three or four gauges on the controller unless something goes wrong. It’s easier than the helo-drones once you get it in the air.”
I wanted to continue the conversation, but the Major called me over to the table where he and Pepper were.
“Virgil, can you go give Jimmy a hand in the towers? I just sent him up to the south unit to get those deuces ready in case we need them.”
He had used the nickname for the two fifty caliber machine guns that Pops had illegally bought and installed in our towers. I nodded and ran to join the mechanic. I was eager to take a closer look at the two big guns, anyway. I found him in the south tower like the Major said.
“Well, shoot,” he said when he saw me. “I asked for some help, and all they send me is you?”
“Ha-ha, Jimmy. You know, if you ever run
out of comedy material you can just stand there. Don’t underestimate the effectiveness of physical comedy.”
“Yeah? Did I tell you I snuck a camera into the clinic? I got some great footage of your new stepmother dabbing at your butt with a cotton swab. Pepper thought it was hilarious.”
I laughed at his joke, but the reference to Sharon as my stepmother gave me the tiniest of pauses. Upon consideration, I had to concede that such a thing was a definite possibility and now as I thought about it, I hoped it would come about. Happiness was in short supply nowadays, and both of them deserved more of it.
With our obligatory verbal jabs taken care of, Jimmy showed me the proper way to clean and lubricate a .50 caliber machine gun. Having seen the weapons in war movies, I thought I knew what they looked like, but I was wrong. They were much more massive than they looked on the big screen. The barrels alone were longer and thicker than a baseball bat. The big Browning M2 machineguns had stayed in America’s war inventory since WW2 for a good reason; they were extremely lethal. The only weapon to remain in the U.S. arsenal longer than the M2 was the model 1911, .45 caliber handgun. The machinegun threw a .50 BMG bullet at its target at a rate of eight hundred and fifty rounds per minute. The destructive power of the weapon was evident in the numerous Middle East battles in which the U.S. was involved over the last few decades. When the bad guys over there saw one of our vehicles arriving with the big barrel poking out of its turret, they headed the other way. There were few things a person could hide behind that the Ma Deuce couldn’t chew through.
We got the southern tower weapon prepped and loaded. The rails that folded down from the wall allowed us to push it right up to the windows of the tower. The towers were both constructed in such a manner that the windows offered three hundred and sixty-degree views so the big weapons could repel attacks from any direction. We locked the M2 into place and stacked the ammunition belts next to it so we could reload the big gun quickly.
Virgil's War- The Diseased World Page 31
