Nearest Night

by David VanDyke

  Two guards behind Bauersfeld rushed forward, stomping at the prisoners’ hands. “Sorry, ma’am. They’re animals.”

  “Nothing to worry about. You may go.”

  The guards retreated to their posts behind the hallway door.

  “Haven’t you ever been to the zoo?” she asked Larry. “What’s the first rule?”

  Larry lay on his pallet, closing his eyes. Bauersfeld taunted him regularly this way. He’d gotten used to it, and it put the lie to her claim she only wanted information.

  In reality, it was an indulgence of cruelty. He’d never quite figured out what motivated her, except the exercise of power over a helpless human being.

  He remembered a psychological experiment he’d once read about. College students had supposedly been given power over an immobilized subject behind glass, actually an actor. One group had a button that purportedly caused orgasmic pleasure, one group extreme pain. On average, each group reveled equally in causing the “subject” to writhe on the table.

  It didn’t seem to matter whether they dispensed ecstasy or agony. People liked power, and most quickly tossed their morals aside when they acquired it.

  “Don’t feed the animals,” Bauersfeld answered her own question. “Only the zookeepers get to feed the animals. If everyone feeds them then they could get sick or fat. We wouldn’t want that to happen here, would we?”

  Larry kept his eyes closed, trying to ignore her, and to ignore the smell of the food scattered around.

  Lord, let me be like Samson. Give me my strength, just one more time.

  Bauersfeld approached his cell. “I can see how difficult this is for you, but it doesn’t have to be like this. You’re different. Special even. The rest in here are common, everyday creatures. Finches, sparrows maybe. You’re a big, black eagle. This isn’t the place for you.”

  Larry stood suddenly to stare at her.

  Bauersfeld pressed her head against the glass of the door, the part that would open when, he figured, a guard at the station pressed a button. It would buzz, and then…

  He dreamed about that happening. About getting his hands on this evil woman.

  For a moment, he felt ashamed. He’d never struck a woman in his life. He’d been raised to treat them as special creatures, to be respected and revered. That’s how he felt about Shawna, and had never even thought of raising a hand to her.

  But this one…with her actions she’d forfeited any immunity her gender might confer.

  Bauersfeld pleaded, “Just cooperate a little, that’s all we ask. We don’t want to hurt anyone. We just need to understand how you people think.”

  “You people.” That says it all, doesn’t it? Before, she called me a “thing.” Now she’s trying to get something and I’m a person again.

  Lord, my strength, just once more…

  With an explosive charge, Larry threw himself forward on formerly powerful legs, bursting the lock and slamming the armored glass door open, knocking Bauersfeld across the hall. She hit her head and slumped. His hands darted out and grasped the torturer’s stylish suit coat in both hands. Larry found the look of shock, pain and fear on her face immensely satisfying.

  “Don’t…don’t…” she stuttered.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, as if to a child. “It’ll be all right.” With irresistible strength he raised her hand to his lips, lifting her onto her toes to do it.

  And bit, hard.

  The skin broke, and blood welled into his mouth. It brought to mind the first time he’d done such a thing, the night Zeke had died, passing on the new virus to those in need of it.

  “What the hell have you done?” Bauersfeld screamed.

  “I killed you, the only way I could,” he said, laughing through the blood, the adrenaline surge making him babble. “You’re an Eden now. You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free. Free at last, free at last, thank God, you’re free at last!”

  He hardly felt it when the guards tasered him, beating him with shock prods. He fell, they pushed him into his cell, and they carried Bauersfeld away.

  After what could have been minutes or a millennium, Larry found himself able to move. He noticed something outside his cell on the floor. His door swung ajar, forgotten in the violence. He crawled over and reached through to grasp the object. He had to bring it close to his face to see what it was.

  The carton of milk.

  “Hey, little buddy,” Larry called out. “Got something for you.”

  The pale face and hands materialized like a ghost from the darkness.

  Larry slid the milk across the hallway. The boy reached through the opening and picked up the carton, opening it and raising it to his mouth with shaky hands.

  “Pretty good, huh?”

  The boy lowered the milk and smiled at Larry.

  Larry smiled back. “I won,” he said. “I brought the temple down.”

  He found that he no longer wanted to die.

  Chapter 24

  Layfield struggled to keep her eyes open through the droning of the briefers. After getting a tip from one of her contacts about the emergency Cabinet meetings, she’d wrapped up her marathon negotiating session with the Germans, trying to get them to see reason. Unfortunately, instead of properly quarantining Edens and limiting the spread of the virus, the namby-pamby socialists were actually talking about giving the abominations asylum in their country.

  It hadn’t gone well.

  Now, though, she had greater concerns than spineless Europeans. She looked around the White House Situation Room and saw shocked faces. The Cabinet hadn’t expected the Russians to move so fast. In fact, they hadn’t expected the Russians to move at all. Their invasion had come as a total surprise to everyone here but she.

  A Navy intelligence officer pointed at a map of Alaska and the Bering Sea. “We’ve identified Russian surface forces here, here, and here. They’ve established a naval blockade, cutting off all shipping into and out of the region. We believe four Yasen-class attack subs have also converged on the area.”

  “What about their boomers?” the Secretary of Defense asked.

  “Their missile subs remain in their usual patrol areas, but it hardly matters. All of them are less than seven minutes ballistic flight from Alaska, less than ten from CONUS,” said the briefer and pointed back at the map. “Soviet naval infantry forces have also occupied several of the larger Aleutian Islands and it looks like they’re preparing to invade the mainland.”

  “Have they responded to our demarche?” asked the Chief of Staff.

  The Secretary of State shook her head. “We summoned the Russian ambassador to explain the actions, but he seemed as surprised about it as we were. He’ll forward our condemnation and demand to vacate, but I doubt it will do any good. This smacks of a pure military operation. The Premier is too weak to countermand.”

  “Those damn Russians,” growled the Secretary of Defense. “Trust them to hit us when we’re preoccupied.”

  “Sounds like they’re doing us a favor,” said Layfield.

  “Please explain how invading our country is doing us a favor.”

  Layfield leaned forward over the table. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. They’re hurting our enemies. Our efforts to crush the rebellion have stalled. This keeps the Alaskans on the defensive and allows us to prepare a renewed offensive from the south and east. It also may generate some sympathy for us. We can spin it as the chaos that happens when Edens infiltrate legitimate governments. The foment rebellion.”

  “How do we know the Russians will hand back what they take? They used to own Alaska, and they’re not known for giving up territory without a fight.”

  “Once the rebels are crushed, the Navy can come in and clear their ships off,” Layfield said. “They’re no match for us at sea. They’ll have to back down and withdraw their land forces, or they’ll be cut off.”

  “This Machiavellian crap always backfires,” said the Secretary of State in a strained voice. “It never goes the
way you expect. Mr. President, we can’t give them our blessing to invade. At the very least, condemn this publicly.”

  “Speaking of which, sir,” said the Chief of Staff, looking at his watch, “you’ve only got about an hour left before your emergency address to Congress. It’s to be broadcast live, and the New Soviets will be watching.”

  “What are you going to say?” asked the Secretary of Defense.

  “What I always say,” answered President Brenner. “That we are in a moment of crisis, but in the end it will be okay.”

  “Yes, but what will you tell the Russians?”

  The President said, “I think I’m actually with Prudence on this one. It’s win-win for us. We’re weak in available ground forces, but our Pacific Fleet is robust. We can handle the Russians any time. Let them do our dirty work.”

  Layfield smiled at the President’s words. “My thoughts exactly, sir. And sir…” She flicked her eyes at the briefers. “Need to know?”

  The President nodded. “Commander, I appreciate your team briefing me on such short notice.” The military people took the cue and began to file out of the room. “You too, ladies and gentlemen,” he said to several general officers and staffers attending. “The SecDef will pass on any instructions.” They also left, though not without unhappy expressions.

  The door had barely shut when the Secretary of State snapped at Layfield, “You did this. You somehow gave the Russians the green light. The New Soviet Union would never be mad enough to do something this rash without a nod from someone on our side. My God, this is just like when Saddam thought he had our permission to invade Kuwait, and it’s going to turn out just as bad.”

  Everyone looked at Layfield.

  She could have denied it but found she didn’t want to. Layfield was proud of her actions and gave in to the temptation to say so. “Someone had to do something. You were all sitting on your hands and talking about reaching settlements with these rebels. At least that option is off the table now.”

  “Without the approval of the President?”

  “I asked her to explore back-channels to the New Soviets,” the President said, startling Layfield with the smooth lie. So he was going to back her up and claim credit at the same time. It didn’t really matter, as long as it got done. “She may have given them the wrong impression, but I think it will work out.”

  In for a penny, in for a pound, Layfield thought. Now that he’s thrown in with me, I might as well push my advantage. Maybe he’ll come along. She spoke. “If we play our cards right, we can not only bring Alaska back in line, but gain much more, possibly all of North America. Russia and China can help us with that.”

  “What are you saying? Help us with what, exactly?” said the Secretary of State.

  “The Canadians and the Mexicans both stabbed us in the back. The vile abominations have infiltrated their leadership. There’s only one real choice, and that’s to ensure new administrations friendly to ourselves come to power in those countries.”

  “You’re still talking about meddling in their internal affairs?”

  “What’s wrong, Denise? Don’t have the stomach for it?”

  “You’re insane.” The Secretary of State turned to the President. “Sir, you can’t be entertaining these ideas!”

  The President held up a placating hand. “I’m not ruling anything out.”

  Layfield looked up at the map. “All we have to do is create a coordinated PR campaign to convince the world we’re doing it for humanitarian purposes.”

  “How would expanding our influence in Canada and Mexico be considered humanitarian?” asked the President, more curious than hostile.

  Layfield could see he was intrigued by this potential increase of American power and empire. “Sir, it’s become painfully obvious that their governments are either woefully incapable, or unwilling, to protect their populace from this virus that festers among them. We can’t allow it to grow and spread and keep flowing into our country. And is it fair to the citizens of those countries? We have no choice but to act. We have a moral obligation to help our fellow man. To keep them safe from harm. We ramp up the legitimate fear of these abominations and do it in the name of security.”

  Everyone stared at President Brenner, looking for his reaction. He thought for several long minutes before he finally spoke. “What I am about to say cannot leave this room. Not yet anyway.” He looked down, drumming his fingers. “Our Vice President might be on to something.”

  “Sir?” asked several people at once.

  “Mexico is imploding and according to the latest reports from my Director of National Intelligence, Canada seems to be actively undermining our policies. It looks like both of them are becoming more and more sympathetic to the Edens. Pretty soon we’ll have unfriendly nations on our borders, something we’ve never tolerated. Do we really want to wait until things get that bad before we act?”

  “Act how?” asked the Secretary of Defense, an eager expression on his hawkish face.

  The President said, “We use the crisis to form a close military alliance with both of them, something like NATO, with an integrated command structure. Julez and the Mexican army will welcome us. We’ll raise their pay and put their house in order. The Canadians…well, they won’t be happy, but we’ll play up the Russian threat for a while. Convince them we need to remain united against the invader, and so on. By the time they figure out what we’re up to, it will be too late.”

  “Take over Canada and Mexico?” asked the Secretary of State, aghast. “With all due respect, Mister President, this is…this is...”

  “Visionary, sir,” Layfield interrupted. “Don’t you all agree?”

  All but the Secretary of State nodded dutifully.

  The President smiled, a practiced politician’s expression. “Thank you, Prudence. That’s why I want you all to begin contingency planning. Disguise the efforts as the usual ‘what ifs,’ and limit the studies to small teams of people with the highest clearances.”

  His Chief of Staff cleared his throat. “Russia, sir? And the address to Congress?”

  “I guess I need to speak with my new best friend, the Premier of the New Soviet Union. Try to get a call set up before the address. That will be all.” He rose, and the Cabinet filed out of the room.

  Layfield waited until the rest had gone. “Sir?”

  The President cocked his head at her with an expression like a bird eyeing a tasty worm. It worried her, but she pushed ahead with what she intended to say. “Thank you for backing me up. It’s been so very long since this country had a leader prepared to really lead.”

  Brenner smiled. “Kind of you to say so.” He turned as if to go, and then faced Layfield again. “Oh, and Prudence?”

  “Yes, Mister President.”

  He leaned in close to her and whispered. “I’ll expect your resignation on my desk by tomorrow morning. How’s that for leadership?”

  Layfield stood stunned, rooted to the floor as he walked away from her.

  Chapter 25

  Cassandra Johnstone sat patiently in Daniel Markis’ office and tried not to let her frustration show. This was her scheduled time to discuss urgent matters and what had he done? Taken a video call from the president of Bolivia, and now the two were discussing golf.

  She had two dozen urgent matters waiting for her at her office, from her own and Spooky’s organizations. She’d had no idea how much was on Spooky’s plate until it had been added to hers.

  “That sounds fantastic, Raoul,” said Markis with a laugh. “Tell the family I said hola. Yes, I’ll see you at the conference next month. Take care.” He ended the call and spun in his chair, shaking his head. “And to think that guy used to hate my guts. Maybe he still does, but he covers it well.”

  “Diplomacy is your thing.”

  “This isn’t diplomacy. This is just getting people to quit trying to assassinate me.”

  “Sounds the same to me.”

  Markis grunted. “What’s on the docket for toda
y?”

  “First, you asked me to keep you informed of Spooky’s mission.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  Cassandra took a deep, obvious breath and let it out slowly. “They’ve hit some complications.”

  “Go on, give it to me straight. You don’t have to sugar-coat it.”

  Cassandra nodded. “It looks like they’ve been at least partially compromised…not really sure how badly yet. Our man in the area who runs the Eden Railroad contacted me directly, very concerned. They’re still planning to go ahead, though.”

  “No doubt Spooky’s pushing for it,” Markis said. “Let’s give him some leeway and see what he can do with it.”

  “So you’re good with a high-risk op? Camp Pleasant is heavily fortified. If they know an attack is on the way, it might be suicide. And, it looks like they’re going to try to take down the entire compound, with some local help.”

  “I trust the people on the ground to know the situation best, and make the right decision. When I was on active duty, I hated Headquarters micromanaging us, calling the shots from the top. I’m not going to do that.”

  “Sometimes Headquarters has the best view…and there are considerations beyond the tactical. Like, how badly we’ll be hurt in the court of public opinion if this turns into a disaster.”

  “I’ll handle the public relations if it comes to that. I’m more concerned about the lives of our people.” Markis sighed. “But I can’t call off ops every time something looks dangerous. Reaper and Spooky have been in bad spots before. Ethiopia was a long shot and they made that work.”

  “This is nothing like Ethiopia. This is in the middle of the United States. In my opinion, we need to pull them out.”

  “Objection noted. Tell them it’s their call.” The phone on Markis’ desk started to ring. “I’m going to have to take this. Keep me informed. Close the door as you go, please.”