Strengthen What Remains (Book 2): A Time To Endure

by Kyle Pratt

When she finished, Caden’s stomach growled, and he realized he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I should have asked for two.

  Once again, the girl looked toward the exam room.

  “What’s your sister’s name?” Caden asked. “What’s your name?”

  “She’s Beth. I’m Amy.”

  “Where are your parents, Amy?”

  For several moments she was silent. Tears streaked her cheeks. “Dead.”

  Her tears had led him to that conclusion already, but he was surprised by the word. “When?”

  “A couple of weeks ago.”

  Caden took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It would help if you told me why you stayed in this area and about the guys who shot at you.”

  Amy’s eyes drifted to the exam room door, and back to her feet. “Our car wouldn’t work after the bomb went off. No cars worked. My dad had a shotgun and a pistol, so we stayed in the house for over a week. We didn’t have much food or water, but we stayed. Then the fire came and we had to leave.”

  Amy sighed and for several moments was silent.

  Caden was about to say they could talk later, when she spoke.

  “Dad protected us—for a while.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “They call themselves the 15th Street Gang. They shot Dad and then Mom. Then they took us and….” Her eyes closed.

  “I understand. How did you know to come here?”

  “They talked about soldiers moving into this building. They plan to leave. When I got the chance, I grabbed Beth and ran.”

  Smiling, Beth hobbled from the exam room on a crutch. One leg was clean and bandaged.

  Caden decided to suspend the interview. He pointed to the medic. “I’ll have her get both of you cleaned up and settled.”

  “Can my sister get some food?”

  “Yes, I’ll make sure she does.”

  Caden looked for the first sergeant and found him helping to unload medical supplies.

  As he neared the group Caden said to Fletcher, “Walk with me.”

  The two men crossed the parking lot to the grassy strip and smaller buildings along the edge. “This is what worries me.” He pointed to the wide access roads and green lawn. “If we’re attacked, this is the way they will come.”

  “You don’t expect the guys we encountered today to do anything like that do you? They’d get caught in a cross fire.” Fletcher pointed at several nearby buildings where soldiers were stationed.

  “From what Amy told me those thugs are leaving the area, but others might do something stupid. Our job is to establish this logistics center. Let’s try to keep them outside of the perimeter.”

  Fletcher nodded. “We can use abandoned cars and sandbags to block access, but it will take at least a day to secure the entire area. Do you expect any trouble tonight?”

  He shrugged. “Probably not tonight. But we were told to expect gang and criminal activity and, from what the teen told me, that is what we’re dealing with.”

  Fletcher nodded agreement. “Those guys stay up late and sleep in, but I’ll make sure we’re prepared for them if they come this way again.”

  “We should be ready for anything.” Caden smiled. “Even the zombie horde you were talking about.”

  “Also, keep a squad ready for quick reaction. If something happens I can take them and….”

  “I should lead them, Sir.”

  Caden frowned. He had been a lieutenant when he left the service and lieutenants lead soldiers in combat, but Governor Monroe had promoted him when he took this job. He was a major and the senior officer on site. “Yes, First Sergeant, you’ll lead them.”

  “I’ll get on it.”

  Over the next few hours, the soldiers cleared abandoned cars from the parking lot and used them to form part of the defensive perimeter. The first supply convoy brought more soldiers and another generator. The two provided enough power for all the buildings.

  Later convoys brought more medical equipment, fuel, food and other supplies. A triage area, surgical rooms and mess area were established in the main structure.

  As the sun slid below the western buildings, Caden set out to inspect the work of the day. Even as he walked along the southern perimeter talking to sentries and inspecting barriers, more trucks arrived. Two were marked with red crosses. More soldiers jumped from the back of a third. Men unloaded crates from another.

  By the time Caden had inspected the eastern and northern defenses, all that remained of the sun was a fading orange glow. A whirling sound caught his attention and he watched as a drone launched into the air. Clearly this base is growing larger than our orders implied.

  He glanced at his watch. Nearly seven. Returning his gaze to the drone as it disappeared into the darkness, he concluded it had been a good day, but wondered about the night.

  Turning back toward the main building, he pondered what next needed his attention. His stomach growled. I missed chow. He headed toward the conference room that had been transformed into the mess hoping there was at least an MRE available.

  At the far end of the room a dozen soldiers clustered around a few tables. An older man stood at one end talking.

  Caden spotted a cross on his uniform. I didn’t realize a chaplain had arrived. He paused and listened.

  “…book of Nehemiah, in the Old Testament, the walls of Jerusalem had been destroyed by war. Nehemiah returns to the city of his ancestors to restore what has been destroyed. We are like that.”

  “We’re not building anything,” a young soldier said.

  “In the literal sense, no not yet, but I am certain that time will come. The terrorists tore down several of our great cities and now we’re here, at the edge of one of them, to begin restoring what has been lost. When you’re standing guard as a sentry out on the perimeter, you’re like Nehemiah on the wall. Behind you is justice, order and democracy, and in front of you, what you keep out, is the enemy—ignorance, tyranny and chaos.”

  As the chaplain continued Caden glanced around for an MRE or even an apple. Then his radio squawked. “Westmore, this is Fletcher. Sentries report gunfire.”

  Food will have to wait. He was glad for the elevator that took him to the makeshift command center on the top floor. The pastel pink room was the office next to the stairwell. Cables ran from it to antennas on the roof. Filing cabinets lined up along the windows provided protection from gunfire. In the center stood a large table with a map of the area spread on it. On the far side a soldier flew one of the drones. Nearer to the door, Fletcher stood beside the radio operator which, at the moment, was silent.

  “What’s the brief, First Sergeant?”

  “The gunfire is from the south but distant. None of the lookouts have seen any flashes. One drone is headed toward the convoy. I’ve order the launch of the second one to recon this area.”

  Caden relaxed a bit and sat at the table. His stomach rumbled loudly.

  “Did you miss chow, Sir?” Fletcher asked.

  He smiled. “Perhaps I should get some food.” Caden headed for the door when a voice near panic came across the radio.

  “Golf 181, this is army convoy south of your position at Fourth and Evergreen. We’re blocked and taking fire from all sides. Request immediate assistance. Over.”

  Before the man stopped talking, Caden found their location on the map.

  “Shall I head out with the ready squad?” Fletcher asked.

  “We don’t know what you’re heading into. Take two squads and get the sergeants to ready all the men, including the new arrivals. I’ll tell the convoy you’re coming.”

  Fletcher hurried from the room as Caden radioed the unit under attack. His stomach grumbled again.

  Caden went up to the roof and watched as four Humvees with M2s mounted on top rumbled across the parking lot and down the dark street. He turned as a whirl came from the other side of the building and watched the second drone climb into the night sky.

  Observing the defenses, Caden walked along the edge of the roof. Below a squad with M4s trotte
d toward the perimeter.

  Holding his radio he said, “Sentries, this is Westmore, report.”

  One after another they informed him of distant gunfire, but otherwise all was quiet.

  Why would a gang attack an army convoy? Something isn’t right here. Troubled, he returned to the command post.

  The drone was still en route, but Caden was drawn to the video screen. The thermal black and white image displayed buildings in ghostly gray. The unused roads appeared black.

  When the craft was over the battle, fighters showed as white figures moving across a black and gray background. Gunfire appeared as flashes on the screen.

  Rarely had Caden viewed battle from this perspective and never with his own soldiers.

  The radio crackled as the Humvees approached.

  “Convoy this is Golf 181 coming in from the north.”

  “Golf 181 this is Convoy. Roger. We have shooters south of you in the two buildings on the north corner of Evergreen and Fourth Avenue.”

  “I sure wish this drone was armed.” Caden leaned over the shoulder of the pilot. “Swing around so we can see those buildings.”

  “Base and Convoy this is Golf 181. We have engaged the enemy.”

  Chapter Twenty Two

  As the drone maneuvered toward the south side of the buildings, Caden relayed the positions of every shooter he spotted.

  For the next ten minutes gunfire rattled across the radio from both the convoy and his men.

  Breathe, remember to breathe. Listening to my people in combat is worse than actually being there.

  “Convoy this is Golf 181. Route is clear ahead. Go!”

  “Base this is Convoy. Need medics upon arrival.”

  Using his handheld radio, Caden informed the medics of incoming wounded, and then returned his concentration to the video display. When Fletcher reported that they had disengaged and were providing a rear guard, Caden sighed deeply. He stayed in the command post until the units were near and then ran to the elevator, punched the button and, when the doors didn’t immediately open, hurried down the stairs.

  Medics stood ready at the front of the building as Caden paced along the curb. Finally he heard Fletcher respond to the sentry’s radio challenge.

  Caden stood nearly at attention as the headlights appeared at the edge of the base.

  Five trucks and two Humvees rumbled to a stop near him. Soldiers poured out. A young lieutenant followed several soldiers as they carried stretchers. The medics examined the wounded and ushered them inside. The remaining soldiers collected around the vehicles.

  Walking among the people and trucks, Caden looked for the first sergeant. Then he heard approaching vehicles and counted four Humvees racing across the lot. As they pulled up and men climbed out, he saw familiar faces. “Good job! Well done.”

  Fletcher appeared from between two trucks with a cluster of soldiers behind. Several were bandaged, but walking. As soon as the first sergeant was in earshot Caden asked, “Did we lose anyone?”

  The first sergeant shook his head. “The convoy had a few causalities, but we didn’t lose any. Three injured, but they’ll live.” Fletcher retrieved a rifle from one of the men. “I got something for you, sir.”

  After looking over it closely, Caden nodded. “Type 56 variant of the AK-47.”

  “What does that mean?” A private asked.

  Fletcher gritted his teeth. “It means it’s made by the Chinese.”

  * * *

  The morning after the skirmish, Caden awoke to the racket of a helicopter landing near the building. Within moments Fletcher was at the door of Caden’s lavender blue office that, with a cot in the corner, also served as his bedroom.

  “General Harwich, two other officers and a civilian bigwig just arrived on the chopper.”

  Caden rubbed his face. “When did you know they were coming?”

  “About two minutes after the helo requested permission to land.”

  Caden dressed quickly and hurried out of the building with Fletcher.

  In the pre-dawn darkness, three men in uniform stood together on the asphalt as the blades of the helicopter slowed. As salutes were exchanged the fourth man, in a business suit, turned. “David! The last time I saw you a Chinese soldier had messed up that pretty face of yours.”

  He cringed. “Yeah, that plan didn’t go exactly the way I thought it would.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Governor Monroe asked me to accompany General Harwich on an inspection tour of the units.”

  “Well this is only the second day, but I’d be happy to show you what we’ve accomplished.”

  “We will get to that,” The general interrupted. “I’m sure you’ve done well, but frankly Major, we have other business to conduct with you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Where can we talk privately?”

  “There’s a conference room we can use.” Caden turned to Fletcher. “Get the rifle you recovered and join us there.”

  The four men followed Caden into the main building. As soon as the door shut, the general asked about the fight the evening before.

  “First Sergeant Fletcher led the men. He should provide details. From watching the drone and hearing his report, I can tell you whoever the attackers were they stood their ground under fire and fought like professionals. Several died rather than retreat.”

  Everyone was still talking when Fletcher returned.

  “It appears the Chinese are providing first rate training and equipment.” Caden passed the rifle to the general. “We took this during the fight.”

  One of the men with the general, an Army captain, shook his head. “The PRC government denies supplying weapons.”

  Caden gritted his teeth. “How can the Chinese government say that?” He tapped the rifle. “This was made in their country.”

  “That AK-47 variant has seen action in a dozen wars that I can think of, and is common in much of the world and the United States,” the captain said. “How would you prove they supplied that rifle to Jihadists in the United States?”

  Caden struggled to remain calm. “But we both know they did. Ah…did you say Jihadists?”

  “The captain is merely paraphrasing what the PRC has said about the weapons,” the general said. “Let’s sit and discuss this over coffee.”

  “We haven’t had any for more than a week.”

  The general nodded to a young lieutenant who pulled a 12 ounce bag of the brew from his briefcase.

  “We’re going to be here for a while,” Harwich said to Caden. “Could you find a coffee pot and get some of this perked?”

  Caden grinned. “Yes sir, I think we can do that.”

  For the next several minutes the war was put on hold as the necessary hardware was found.

  While the junior person in the room made coffee, one of the lieutenants unfolded a map on the table.

  General Harwich looked at the chart, then at Caden. “Now that this combat support hospital and logistic center is established, and we know the lawless elements are nearby, we’re going to move another unit in and put your soldiers in a forward position.”

  “Yes sir, but if I may ask, why us?”

  “Your people have a reputation for getting the job done.” He placed his finger on the map. “As you found out last night, this area is active.” He tapped the map.

  It seemed to Caden that the general was trying to decide what to say.

  “The governor wants Major Westmore to know the situation he’s getting in to,” David said. “I think we should tell him everything.”

  The general looked at Fletcher.

  “He’s my second in command,” Caden said. “I’d like him to be here.”

  “Okay.” General Harwich took a deep breath. “The gangs cooperating with the Chinese are not reliable. While the Chinese supply them with food, drugs and guns, the members are criminals, not soldiers. They’re unwilling to take orders or die for the cause.”

  “That isn’t what we saw during the f
ight last night,” Fletcher said.

  “Do you really think you were fighting a gang?”

  Caden shook his head slowly.

  As sounds and smells of brewing coffee filled the room the general continued. “We believe the Chinese aided the Jihadists with planning and materials for the original terrorist attacks and we have solid intel that they are assisting them in areas of the western states not under their control. They supply the terrorists with weapons and food; even bring them in from other areas.”

  Caden raised an eyebrow.

  “Several analysts believe China, Jihadists and perhaps Russia are dividing the country into spheres of influence. What they can’t control they want balkanized. So, China assists Jihadists here, because we’ve resisted their efforts to control this region.”

  “If we knew about this, why didn’t someone eliminate the terrorists weeks ago?” Fletcher asked.

  “The local terrorist cell went into hiding after the blast. They’ve only gradually re-emerged as they secured weapons and new fighters, but we never know exactly where they are. However, it appears that last night you found them.”

  “How can we be sure it was them, sir?”

  A broad grin grew across the general’s face. “We had soldiers on scene minutes after you left. They recovered a body which we identified.” Leaning back in the chair, he continued. “That is why I’m here. The Chinese are working with several groups to undermine government and law enforcement until either this region is within their sphere of influence, Balkanized or a failed state with Jihadists and gangs fighting for control. Actually, when law and order collapses the Chinese will probably move in. It’s a high stakes game of international intrigue and in California and much of the southwest, they’ve won.”

  Caden rubbed his chin. “We’ve had MS-13 active in the Hansen area. Is that part of the Chinese effort?”

  “I don’t think so. Those scumbags are working their own plan.”

  “Oh.” Caden thought of Cruz and what might be happening back home.

  “We will restore law and order to all parts of western Washington as part of Operation Lexington, but first,” the general inhaled deeply, “I think the coffee is ready.”

  Caden held the warm cup in his hands and breathed in the pleasant aroma as he returned to the table and sipped the coffee.