“What about Fayetteville?” I asked softly, and from the captain’s expression, I knew the city was well and truly lost.
“We had to move all of our operations over to Fort Smith,” Captain Devayne admitted sadly. “But the colonel ended up deploying a company’s worth of men at the various strong points established in the area. Darwin helped create a network of farms and small scale manufacturing works outside the cities. All of our families are mainly resettled at Fort Chaffee now.”
This came as no surprise, but I still felt a lump of sadness form in my throat. The population centers remained untenable, especially after the pulse rendered the infrastructure essentially useless. For months, Colonel Hotchkins and his men had labored to bring fresh water and what little food they could spare to the beleaguered citizens, but finally the last warehouse was emptied and empty bellies drove citizens to acts of horrible desperation.
“The colonel would have preferred to keep us focused on our humanitarian missions, or assisting local law enforcement,” Captain Devayne continued, “but other events have forced his hand. Are you familiar with a facility in Pine Bluff, Luke?”
I was, and suddenly I felt all the air leave the room. Obviously, this was not news to the other men, but I could tell they didn’t like it.
For Amy’s benefit, Captain Devayne gave a brief background.
“Pine Bluff is one of the places the federal government has most of those nasty chemical weapons we have in our arsenal that other countries aren’t supposed to have. The facility is for storage and disposal they say, but strangely enough they never do dispose of them.
“Anyway, the place had a huge contract and civilian employee population, but only about twenty military personnel on site. That doesn’t include the rapid reaction force maintained there by the Department of Defense, which is also made up of contractors; mostly former military. They also have a large Homeland Security presence.”
“Oh shit,” I murmured, and I knew where this was going. “Homeland took over?”
Devayne gave me a hard grin and shook his head.
“They tried to early on, but their hearts just weren’t in it. Understand that I’m getting all of this second hand, but I can read between the lines. General Schofield was running the place following all security protocols except he couldn’t even feed his people. So he ended up with the security team running a skeleton crew and almost all the civilian employees went home to take care of their families. Interestingly, so did most of the Homeland personnel. The few that stayed on didn’t have families and were folded into his command.
“Things rocked on like that for months, with the general trying to get guidance from higher up and getting nowhere. Then, one day last week, a column of black SUVs rolled up to the gate. Someone claiming to be the Regional Director for Homeland Security walked up and demanded to see the general. Said he was there to assume command of the facility. Now, Schofield has been there for over three years and has interacted with Homeland personnel for all that time and he says he had never seen this joker. None of his tame Homeland folks knew the guy either.”
“So what happened?” I asked, caught up in the drama of the moment.
“The general asked for some clarification and documentation. He was trying to be a good soldier and follow the rules, you see. This Regional Director pitched a fit and while he was making his demands and threats, General Schofield’s people were sending out the distress call to Camp Robinson. There was a standoff at the gate for a couple of hours until two companies of ANG showed up. General Tomzerak thought that would be enough to get these misguided individuals to see reason. But instead, the Homeland goons saw the convoy of Humvees coming up the road and tried to storm the gates. So they got slaughtered.”
Captain Vanderpool spoke up then.
“We heard all this second-hand, as was mentioned, but some folks are calling this the first shots fired in the Second American Civil War. And it gets worse. While this was going on, somebody got to General Thomas at Tinker and assassinated him in his bunk. He was the CO over what was left of the Air Force personnel at Tinker AFB and was an outspoken critic of the Administration. Even went so far as to complain on the HAMnet about how the Feds were leaving the rest of the country to die.”
“Wow. How does a guy like that make it to general? I mean, willing to speak out like that,” Amy said, joining the conversation for the first time.
“Well, ma’am, his family died in the Oklahoma City firestorms. General Thomas was furious when he found out the nuke plants were shut down but nobody grounded their flights. That’s what caused most of the fires, you know. The crashes.” From Vanderpool’s explanation, he’d both known and liked the murdered general.
After all this, we finally got down to the meat of the conversation, which was the plan to take down Camp Gruber. Not the operational plan, mind you, since I would not have a need-to-know, but how to get that far.
The attack was to be a joint operation between the ANG and the ONG, with a lieutenant colonel from Durant, OK running the mission. He would be arriving in McAlester in two days with the better part of a battalion quietly gathered up from several units in that part of the state. No one was mobilizing all their troops and only half from any one unit would be asked to participate in the mission. The lessons learned from the destruction of Lawton stuck with these men and women.
Captain Vanderpool was quick to point out with pride that in a Regular Army tasking, the idea would be laughable, lumping together so many different platoons and hoping they could work as a cohesive force. But, in a force as relatively small as the Oklahoma National Guard, a large percentage already knew each other from joint operations.
What these battle hardened officers wanted from me were my impressions of these Homeland fighters, both at the I-40 turkey shoot and at the night defense of the armory grounds. They had me stumped on that second one, until Captain Bisley spoke up.
“Uh, Luke, we think about half those guys you and the girls killed were Homeland. They were wearing that same camouflage uniform as the others you killed on the highway and they carried brand new M4s. We still think that attack was a diversion, but if they were going to take the armory, that’s where the bulk of the ground attack came. For one thing, at the security post they knocked out, they shot my men there with suppressed sniper fire.” I could tell he was still angry about all the men he had lost, and rightfully so.
“Oh. Well, I guess their snipers were good, but the rest of them…” I started to say, and then Amy cut me off.
“…were terrible. No fire control, no coordination, and a complete lack of overall discipline. Captains, they didn’t act like or shoot like your men do. Paramilitary, I think is the term I’ve heard mentioned for guys like that.”
Amy’s words took Captains Devayne and Vanderpool by surprise, but not Bisley. He just nodded. He had the read the reports of the girls cutting down a flanking element while I was otherwise engaged. Amy had changed in just the little time she had been away from Fort Chaffee. She might not be a hardened soldier, but she could tell the difference between trained men and rabble.
“I agree. They seemed familiar with their weapons, but not at working as part of a team or in how to operate while under fire. Too much ‘Call of Duty’, I’d say. The men I killed at the ambush site, the Javelin operators, just came strolling up like it was a freaking day at the beach. Darned little situational awareness,” I said, thinking back.
Devayne nodded, his eyes troubled as he looked over at Amy. I knew the feeling. I didn’t like her having to shoot people either. Or getting shot, for that matter.
“That tracks. They’re hesitant to use anybody with real military experience in these strike groups of theirs. Too afraid they might accidentally recruit an Oath Keeper into their ranks,” the Arkansas National Guard officer opined.
He went on to explain how his force had slipped into town by way of dropping down south of Fort Chaffee and crossing over at Highway 70 going through Hartford. I’d n
ever heard of the place, but apparently Highway 70 turned into Highway 270 and took the convoy through some smaller towns and finally linked up to McAlester.
Then I remembered we took that same road at least part of the way to the Thompson’s house.
“So did you get to meet my new buddy, Andy Parker? He seems to run the Krebs Avenue Irregulars. I’ll bet they freaked out when your convoy stopped to ask for directions.”
Devayne smiled; a genuine thing this time.
“Yeah, and imagine my surprise to find out he not only knew you, but was telling me all about how you managed to wipe out a whole neighborhood by yourself just two days ago. Now, Luke, tell us how you really managed to get shot.” I could tell his curiosity was engaged.
Captain Bisley swallowed hard and gave me a nervous look.
“Uh, he actually did that, Captain Devayne. Lori stopped him before he could mount the heads on stakes out at the street corner. From what I understand, he was nearly dead from blood loss at the time.”
Devayne cut his eyes to me but didn’t comment further. Obviously, he was reassessing some opinions. I figured I better explain before he decided a nice padded cell should be in my future, since we were all out of them.
“Captain, it’s all cool now. These were just more raiders. I wanted to send them a message, that’s all.” I lied. They weren’t raiders, just average folks driven outside their norms by hunger, thirst, and fear. I’d seen the same type of desperate actions before as I’d traveled across the devastated land.
This horrible pattern was being repeated all over America as the starving survivors fought over the scraps. Part of me still felt pity for them, but trying to kill Amy was not something I would ever allow. There are some things too precious to me, and the list starts with her.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
At the end of the pow-wow, I got my surprise as Captain Vanderpool announced one more mission that needed to be carried out. The Oklahoma Guard was still desperately short of working transport and a trip was needed to see about alleviating that problem. Before he could go any further, I had to ask a question that had been churning away at the back of my head.
“Captain Vanderpool, how are your men able to coordinate anything without the Homeland folks getting wind of it? Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Just bugging me is all.”
“Not at all. Actually, the idea is really old. We are using book ciphers. Couriers make the initial contact, hand delivering a particular edition of some obscure book and use it to form the codes. If the NSA was still running, we would be screwed, but I think their systems may be down. Even if the supercomputers survived, with no power they are useless.”
I nodded, admiring the old school solution. Somebody was thinking.
“That was how we received notification of this next mission, Luke, and probably why you asked. Somebody needs to make a run down to the Red River Army Depot just across the border and see if we can get a good deal on used Humvees, old five and seven tons, and whatever else still runs.”
I smiled. “A courier run. That sounds like fun. Can I volunteer?”
Amy looked horrified by the idea and started stammering.
“Luke, you can’t go. You just had surgery. You could bust a stitch or something. Absolutely not.”
“Not me, honey. They will need to send a soldier with the proper code words or something to even get in the gate. I was just thinking we could tag along. Stay quiet and lurk at the back of the pack. You know me. New people scare me.”
“Well, it won’t be for several days anyway, Amy,” Captain Bisley added. “We need to have some time to organize and we will wait for Lt. Colonel Forshe to get here first. As Captain Vanderpool explained to me earlier, with the Homeland units staging ambushes on I-40, we have a better chance of slipping up on them if we circle around and approach from the south. Camp Gruber is situated so that it presents a threat to both our states, and could cut off vital traffic along that highway.”
“Sounds good guys. Glad I could be of service. I know y'all were waiting impatiently for me to say the Homeland strike teams were slobs. By the way, anyone ever hear back from Oklahoma City or Lt. Germann about the one prisoner I took? I’ll bet he sang like a bird for pain meds.”
“No, nothing,” Captain Bisley said, and looked at Vanderpool, but the other officer shrugged as well. “We don’t broadcast much with the communications problems, even in code, in case we’re wrong about their computing capabilities.”
With that question answered, I was ready to return to my bed. Not exactly heroic sounding, but I was still in a lot of pain and the pills Dr. Spaulding had for me weren’t that strong. I know, because he told me. They were enough to take the edge off, but not make me sleepy. Instead, I asked Amy if she could wheel me outside. I suddenly had a need to see the sun.
In the last two days, much of the damage done to the armory compound had been repaired, and I took note of the increased military presence in the parking area as Captain Devayne’s men were busy pitching tents and settling in for a wait.
“So you really think you will be up for the trip?” Amy asked as she wheeled me along the sidewalk and away from any listeners.
“I think it’s our best shot. And our friends inside know it. That’s why it was mentioned. All of them, Devayne, Bisley, and even Vanderpool, have been helpful in their own ways and to the best they can offer under the circumstances. Amy, I can see it in their eyes. These are men dedicated to this country and standing by while hundreds of thousands, millions, of their fellow countrymen die is tearing at their souls.”
“They’re very brave,” Amy agreed, “and I can’t imagine how they do their jobs every day. I guess knowing their own families are being taken care of helps but tortures them too.”
I nodded. She got it. Why should their families be treated special? What made them better than the family down the street that is starving to death even this very moment? And what about the ones with families far away?
I knew that concern must have depleted the regular military forces until they went into lockdown; maybe after, as well. If you were stationed at Fort Campbell, Kentucky and your elderly parents lived in Texas, what would you do? I didn’t blame the men who deserted, and I figured a smart operator like Colonel Hotchkins would gather up as many of those men as he could recruit.
“So we’re going?” Amy asked, but I could tell she was already making plans. That girl was a planner, no doubt. I knew it all along, but she really came into her own helping out with the supply personnel at Fort Chaffee. I figured she would get along great with my mom, another natural born organizer. That thought made me smile.
“What?”
“I was just thinking about introducing you to my folks, that’s all.”
Amy looked away for a moment, and when her eyes came back to me I saw something there that Amy seldom showed, apprehension and maybe a touch of fear.
“Do you think they will like me?”
“Oh, Amy, they are going to love you. Maybe not like I do,” I said this with a mock leer, which got her to smile a bit. “But I was just thinking how much my mother will enjoy have another person who shares her orderly outlook on the world.”
“And your little sister? She’s going to hate me, I just know it.”
I shrugged. “Paige is okay. She’s thirteen, so what are you going to do? And you are going to be fifteen soon; so, much older and more mature.”
Amy giggled, but it was true. But then I wondered just how much things may have changed at home. I prayed then that God was watching over them. It was a silent thing and only took a moment, but I felt better for it.
“So who are we taking?” Amy asked, and I knew what she meant. We had already offered a space in the Suburban to the Thompson girls, but there were more people now. How many more, I did not know.
“Tell me about Scott. And who else was there with him? I knew there were more people, but I can’t remember anything specific.”
Amy scowled, and I thought she w
as going to say something bad, but then I realized. She had no idea either, being unconscious at the time. I smacked my head, doing the classic palm plant, and Amy giggled again. It was such a nice sound, not at all the shrill girly thing I was used to from teen girls. For one thing, it sounded sweet, but also sexy. Darn, now was not the time for my hormones to kick in again.
“I remember Lori saying her brother and his girlfriend were there, and his girlfriend’s little brother. Also, some little girl they found wandering in the neighborhood. I can’t give you any details. I was out cold for over an hour Lori said, and just about the first thing I remember is seeing Scott and Lori carrying you back over to their house.”
“Well, first thing we need to do is talk this over with Summer and Lori. I know Lori has the Suburban, but is she coming back today?”
“Sure. She’ll check on Summer and see about you as well. I can’t get jealous of her hovering, you know, because she’s feeling so guilty about what happened. She’s scared you are going to just abandon them here since she feels like everything that happened is her fault or Summer’s. But she also has to stay close to their house or other neighbors will come in and strip the place clean.”
“Got it. Let’s corner her when she gets in and have a little planning session. Remember, Colonel Hotchkins also gave us use of that Humvee, so we have two vehicles to work with.”
“Ah, that’s good thinking.”
“We want to stay flexible, and two vehicles give us more flexibility. But first, do we want them to go on with us, Amy? That’s a real question, too. Your opinion matters to me more than anything else. Do you trust them to watch your back, even after what happened at their house?” I was being dead serious with her, and Amy could see the intensity in my demeanor change.
“Yes, I think so. That was an extraordinary event, Luke. They both held up when we were attacked here, and even though Summer didn’t have to shoot, I think she would have if needed. And don’t think I didn’t notice how you babied her, you big softy.”
Hard Rain Falling (Walking in the Rain Book 3) Page 17
