by Bobby Akart
Lucy looked around the town of two hundred and thirty and saw only three people standing on a street corner. Stores were closed, and the Exxon station’s pole sign read out of gas.
Major had filled up the truck with fuel from their farm diesel tanks at the ranch. He doubted any law enforcement officers would care that he was running red diesel in his truck rather than the street legal and heavily taxed green diesel.
After arriving at the sheriff’s office, they spent a few moments discussing the matter with a deputy, who promptly locked the two men up. The sheriff was out on patrol. There had been several other reports from the western parts of the county of break-ins and petty thefts.
Major and Lucy didn’t spend a lot of time chitchatting with the lone deputy on duty. They weren’t sure what to expect in Lubbock and certainly wanted to get their business done and back home around dark.
After a forty-five-minute, uneventful drive, they arrived at the outskirts of Lubbock. Just before they entered town, they passed through the small bedroom community of Woodrow on the side of the city. At a traffic signal, they were stopped by a City of Woodrow patrol car.
When the officer approached them, Major provided his license as well as his Texas Ranger identification card as issued by the Department of Public Safety. This was the first time he’d been approached by law enforcement since his retirement from Company C years ago.
“Good afternoon, Officer,” Major started cordially after handing the two forms of identification to the young man.
“Good afternoon, sir, ma’am,” he said, tipping his hat to Lucy. “This is a courtesy stop only, Major Armstrong. I need to advise you there has been some unrest on the west side of town along Route 114 toward the New Mexico state line. Apparently, a large group of people had gathered at the checkpoint near Farwell, which is northwest of here. They began moving southward until they found a section of the border that was undermanned. They killed three Bailey County deputies and rushed into the state.”
“How many?” asked Lucy.
“Several hundred, ma’am,” the officer replied. “Maybe more. Lubbock County sent a large contingent of officers to stop the flow of people coming in, but that left the patrols of the city undermanned. While our department is trying to help out, there are dozens who slipped through the cracks. They’re looting homes and assaulting the elderly. It’s pretty bad on the west side, so I was gonna warn you not to head that way.”
“Thank you, Officer,” said Major, who reached out his window to retrieve his ID cards. “We’re headed straight ahead to Plain Meats on Avenue G.”
“Okay, but the interstate is closed to local traffic. Under the circumstances, the county judge has ordered the primary roads crisscrossing town to be used by military and emergency personnel only. Your two best options are up Avenue P to our west or MLK Boulevard to our east.”
Major nodded and was about to roll up the window when he asked one additional question. “You mentioned military traffic. Is the military being used in Lubbock?”
“Not in the town per se. They have a staging area at the South Plains Fairgrounds on the other side of I-27 from where you’re goin’. I’ve heard the governor has divided the state, um, I mean the republic into large geographic regions, each with their own military contingent.”
“Whose military? United States?” asked Lucy.
“No, ma’am. I mean, it’s complicated. I’m not really high on the need-to-know list. I’ve heard rumors that the military installations within the state have joined Texas, under the command of General Gregg, who resigned as Secretary of Defense. Now, listen, please don’t repeat this. I’ve based all of this on chatter back at the station. The only thing I know is Texas isn’t a state anymore, and there’s an army gathering at the fairgrounds.”
Major nodded and thanked the young man for providing him a heads-up on the events around the city. He turned left at the next intersection and found Avenue P, where they discussed what they’d learned.
“Lucy, they can’t keep this border sealed forever, especially around the Panhandle,” started Major. “It’s too deserted and wide open around here. Frankly, it’s the same problem we have at the ranch, which allowed those scoundrels to break into Jose’s home. The ranch is too big. We’re fenced, but that doesn’t mean anything unless we’ve got several armed men greeting anyone attempting to cross it. The same thing applies to Texas. The natural borders like the Red River and even the Gulf of Mexico help protect the state from intrusions. But up here, you’ve got to build a fence with razor wire, like a prison. Then you have to patrol it with trained soldiers or law enforcement personnel.”
“Do you think that’s why the army is here?” asked Lucy.
“I assume so,” he replied as he made another right turn to work his way over to Avenue G, where the slaughterhouse was located. “Look around us. Cars aren’t going anywhere, but neither are people. Folks seem to be content to stay home, waiting to see what happens next. Lubbock is a pretty good-sized city. If it had lost power, there would be chaos in the streets. Instead, folks seem to be pretty calm.”
Lucy studied the docile surroundings as they slowly made their way to pick up the food intended to sustain them for at least four to six months. During her lifetime, her gut had warned her about situations when her surroundings appeared to be too quiet. This was one of those moments.
“Yeah,” Lucy mumbled as she rested her elbow on the door and stared at Interstate 27 above them, which was devoid of traffic. “Maybe they’re waiting to see what happens next.”
Chapter 65
December 1
United States Forces Korea
Yongsan Garrison, Seoul, South Korea
“They are letting me go,” said Sook as she embraced Duncan. The two had been reunited for the first time in ten hours since their arrival at Yongsan Garrison. “They asked me many questions, mostly about you and your friend. I was truthful with them. I know very little.”
“That’s good news, Sook,” said a demoralized Duncan. After his conversation with the CIA official, he’d become somewhat depressed. “I have something to tell you. Let’s sit down.”
“I have something to tell you, also. Duncan, being apart from you the last ten hours has been horrible. I ached to be by your side. I think—I know—I’ve fallen in love with you.”
She immediately hugged him and buried her face in his chest. Duncan could feel the tears of relief soak through his shirt. He closed his eyes, seeking guidance from above, unsure of what to say. He’d begun to feel the same way, but what he wanted was impossible.
He pulled away and wiped her tears with his fingers. “Sook, listen to me. Something bad has happened.”
“What? What is it?”
“America was attacked by two nuclear explosions. Our country has lost its electric power. The nation is in chaos.”
“Oh no. Duncan, your family, are they okay?”
“Sook, I don’t know. It’s impossible for me to call the States. The power is off, so the telephone lines don’t work. There is some good news.”
“What? Please tell me,” she insisted.
“My state of Texas is safe. They still have power where my parents live.”
“This is great! Duncan, please take me with you. Take me to Texas. I can learn more better English. I will help your family. I’m smart and I can cook, too.”
He put his arm around her and pulled her head to his shoulder. It felt good.
But it was impossible.
He had one chance to catch a military transport to Guam and connect on another one to San Diego. From there, he was on his own.
“Sook, it’s complicated. You see, my state, Texas, has left the United States. The government formed its own country. I can’t fly back to Texas, only to California. I must find my own way home.”
“We can do it,” she pleaded. “We work well together. I am a fighter, too. Remember? I will not be a burden to you.”
Duncan had never fallen in love before. His li
fe was devoted to serving his country. In his mind, he couldn’t adequately do his duty and leave the love of his life at home wondering if he’d return in one piece.
But things had changed. His days of undertaking black ops missions were over. Now, his life was dedicated to taking care of his family. He did love Sook, and they could make a life together in Texas far better than the one she’d lead in Seoul with hundreds of missiles pointed at her from the North.
He thought of the practical aspects. First, she was a North Korean with no passport and no identifying documents. Would that matter at the Armstrong Ranch? His parents had taken in many illegals from Mexico over the years. They’d taught them how to live like Americans and helped them gain their citizenship.
Was Sook any different from the Mexicans who worked on the ranch? Well, she was Korean, and this brought back the history Duncan had studied in high school. After Pearl Harbor was attacked, Japanese living in America were more than shunned. Many were gathered up and put into internment camps in the name of national security. Would that happen now with respect to North Koreans? Maybe not, especially if he kept Sook tucked away at the ranch, away from prying eyes.
But he had to get there first. She might be verbally abused from Seoul to Guam to San Diego. He would have to shield her from that. Then there was the trip from San Diego to Texas. It had to be a thousand miles, he didn’t know. Was she up for that? Heck, was he up for that?
Duncan took a deep breath and looked down to Sook’s hopeful face. “Are you sure you love me?”
“Yes, I love you, Duncan.”
“You know what, that’s all that matters. I love you too. Sook, this will be very difficult and dangerous. We could be hurt or even killed. Are you sure you want to be with me?”
“I would rather die than be without you.”
The door opened suddenly, and the woman CIA officer arrived with two U.S. Army personnel.
“Armstrong, these gentlemen will drive you to the airfield.”
They stepped into the room and handed Duncan his Barrett rifle and a travel bag that was heavy enough to hold his ammo. He was also handed his travel credentials and identification.
Duncan studied the documents, which were standard-issue alternative passports to be used temporarily until he arrived stateside.
“Thank you, but I need one more thing. I need you to print another set of these for Park.”
She replied, “For what purpose? He’s—”
“I know that. It’s for my purposes. My country owes me this favor. Please, make it happen.”
The agency woman’s eyes darted back and forth between Duncan and Sook. A slight smile crossed her face as she nodded.
“I’ll adjust the gender designation as well. Thank you for your service, Armstrong. Good luck upon your arrival in San Diego.”
Chapter 66
December 1
Korean Peninsula
Korean Air flight 765, a Boeing 747 wide-body quad jet, took off from New Chitose airport just south of Sapporo, Japan. The flight carried the South Korean Winter Olympics team, which had been practicing at some of the twelve venues still in operation from the 1972 winter games in Sapporo. After South Korea had successfully hosted the games in PyeongChang in 2018, popularity for winter sports grew, and the team had reached out to Japan to share their Sapporo facilities. Their two-week-long training session was cut short due to concerns over the EMP attack upon America and possible retaliation resulting in a regional war with the North. The Japanese government had encouraged foreign citizens to return home for their safety in the event hostilities broke out.
The flight was a routine one, as evidenced by the lighthearted attitude of the two pilots in the cockpit. Both the captain and first officer were seasoned pilots with Korean Air and had flown this route many times. After they were airborne and reached a cruising speed of five hundred eighty miles per hour, the captain left the cockpit to have a conversation with a flight attendant he’d become intimate with the night before.
The two had a flirtatious conversation in the galley while the first officer manned the cockpit, periodically looking around the flight deck just out of habit. With everything in hand, he elected to greet the passengers on the flight.
“Good morning from the flight deck. This is First Officer Ju Ji-hoon, and it is my pleasure to assist Captain Lee Hyun-woo as we escort you to Seoul via our beautiful Korean Air 747-400 aircraft.”
First Officer Ju stopped his address to the passengers as he received a message from Seoul’s air traffic control center.
“Roger, Seoul Center. This is Korean Air seven-six-five. Go ahead.”
“Korean Air seven-six-five, weather system has stalled in your route. Aircraft in region are experiencing violent turbulence at all altitudes. Suggest you alter course to a heading westward of your current flight path.”
“Roger that, Seoul Center,” said First Officer Ju, who finished sending a text to his wife. The buzzer rang on the entry door to the flight deck, and he unbuckled his harness and confirmed it was the captain.
“Come in, Captain,” said First Officer Ju as the captain pushed his way in with a flight attendant in tow.
“You won’t mind if I take care of a little business in the latrine, do you?” he said with a laugh. The flight attendant was draped all over the older man and looked at First Officer Ju with a shy, flirty look.
“No, of course not, enjoy,” replied First Officer Ju.
He returned to his seat and strapped himself in again. He tried to tune out the sounds coming from the small bathroom on the flight deck. He was about to continue addressing the passengers when he remembered he needed to adjust the flight path to avoid the inclement weather.
The first officer quickly made changes in the computer, and the plane could be felt making a gentle turn toward the west. Proud of his efforts to provide a more pleasant flight for the passengers, he took to the intercom again.
Had he been a prankster, he’d relocate the microphone for the intercom system next to the latrine door and treat the rest of the passengers on Korean Air 765 to the audio from his captain’s tryst in the latrine. But First Officer Ju was all business.
*****
The Korean People’s Army Air Force spent considerable resources on their air defenses. North Korea shared borders with the Chinese and Russians, both deemed allies, and South Korea, with whom they’d maintained a closely watched truce along the 38th parallel and the DMZ.
Along their coastline at the Sea of Japan, hundreds of bunkers had been built for the purpose of defending against possible air attacks from Japan and the United States. After the attempt on Kim Jong-un’s life, their military had been placed on its highest alert status. Once the EMP attack was initiated, the Korean generals allowed these Air Defense units carte blanche on repelling any air attacks. Nervous, tired soldiers manned the bunkers, which stretched from the DMZ to Sonbong County in the extreme northeastern part of the country.
At first, an airman manning his station thought his monitors were malfunctioning. He quickly made several keystrokes in an effort to confirm the findings. In a panic, he raised his hand in the air and shouted for his superior.
Seconds later, other hands were raised within the bunkers on Hwadae peninsula, the easternmost part of North Korea, which jutted out into the Sea of Japan. Their conclusions were confirmed. An aircraft was approaching at nearly six hundred miles per hour.
*****
First Officer Ju took to the airwaves and addressed the passengers. “We have received word from Seoul operations that a low-pressure system has stalled over the Sea of Japan, causing a significant amount of turbulence. We have adjusted our flight path to avoid the bad weather and to insure you enjoy the most pleasant of rides back to Seoul. Also, I would like to take a moment to welcome the South Korean Winter Olympics squad on board with us today. They’ve been training in Sapporo and are returning home. I, too, am a skier, and one of my favorite phrases is it’s all downhill from here!”
First Officer Ju would have been pleased to hear the laughter of the passengers. But for the heavy security door, he would have. Then again, if he’d keyed his mic for one last thought, the passengers would have heard him scream in terror as he saw the six KN-06 surface-to-air missiles streaking toward the nose of Korean Air 765.
Chapter 67
December 1
Kingsbury Colony, Montana
While Palmer and Pacheco remained inside to discuss Morales’s condition, Riley showed Cooper the 1982 Land Rover Defender in the barn. Painted in apple red with a white roof, the vintage diesel truck was in pristine condition.
“Check it out, Coop,” started Riley. “It’s right-hand drive like over in England. That’s where it’s made, see.” Riley pointed to the license plates, which were the original United Kingdom-issued plates, and the Land Rover emblem for the UK dealership.
Cooper walked around the vehicle and kicked the tires mounted on the white rims. He opened the driver’s side door on the right side of the truck and looked in.
“Check it out,” Riley continued as he gushed over Red Rover. “There are no electronics on this thing. Everything works on toggle switches. There are only a couple of gauges for speed and fuel. Simple as pie.”
“This is amazing, Riley,” said Cooper.
Fiorella approached from behind. “Start him up. Because its cold, he’ll be a little stubborn. You can use that shifter at the passenger’s feet to increase the idle. Seriously, go ahead.”
Riley didn’t hesitate and bounced into the driver’s seat, turned the key to allow the diesel motor to ready itself, and then turned the key.
While he went through the motions, Fiorella pulled Cooper aside. “Your friend Pacheco is going to insist you go forward without them,” she started. “He is a very unselfish young man and loyal to his best friend.”
“Then we should stay as well,” said Cooper.
