Surviving The Collapse Super Boxset: EMP Post Apocalyptic Fiction

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Surviving The Collapse Super Boxset: EMP Post Apocalyptic Fiction Page 154

by J. S. Donovan


  “I sure hope we didn’t come all the way for nothing,” he said.

  Chassity carefully studied him from the other side the table. “Mr. Burke, what do you do?”

  He looked up, unprepared for the question. “I work for the government. Like your mom.”

  “What do you do for the government?” she asked next.

  “I work for the Central Intelligence Agency. The CIA.”

  “What do you do for the CIA?”

  Burke looked down and flashed a smile.

  “Chassity, that’s enough,” Angela said.

  Burke shrugged. “It’s all right. She is curious, has questions. I completely understand.”

  “How are you doing, honey?” Angela said, looking to Lisa and brushing back her blond hair.

  “Fine,” she said softly. No matter how hard Angela tried to get her to talk, she wasn’t saying much. Angela had hoped that Lisa would begin to act like her normal cheery and talkative self, but there seemed little chance of that happening soon. Chassity, on the other hand, had no problem talking.

  “How do you know my mom?” she asked.

  Burke smiled again. “One question at a time, miss. To answer your previous inquiry, I am a joint terrorism specialist. Meaning that I try to stop terror threats at home and abroad.”

  “Why can’t you stop the terrorists now?” she asked.

  “That’s what we’re trying to do. I met your mom at her work. They brought me in to investigate an incident she was involved in.”

  “And why can’t we go home?” she asked.

  Burke raised his head as the waitress came back with refilled glasses. She tried to appear happy and upbeat, but a hint of wariness and worry showed in her face.

  “Thank you,” Angela said.

  “My pleasure.” The waitress smiled and then folded her hands together as though something was on her mind. “I don’t want to rush you folks, but the manager informed me that we will be closing at 6:00 today. I’m sorry that it’s so sudden… but these attacks.”

  “No, no,” Angela said, waving her off. “We completely understand. Thank you.”

  The waitress nodded and walked away as Angela glanced at Burke, her eyes wide and worried. If Martinez was a no-show, they’d need to think of something fast. And just when she thought all hope was lost, she could see a man outside the window, limping toward the entrance with a woman at his side. It was Martinez and Gloria. Angela had never felt so relieved.

  She signaled to Burke. “He’s here.”

  Burke whipped his head around, toward the door. Martinez slowly entered through as though every step was causing him pain. Angela stood up, waving them over. She was glad to see Gloria with him. Chassity and Lisa watched the couple curiously as they approached the table.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Martinez said with a faint smile. “Can’t move like I used to right now.”

  His face was bruised and cut. He was out of uniform and wearing a green polo shirt and blue jeans. He had knee braces on both legs, and his right arm was in a sling.

  “That’s okay,” Angela said, moving out of the booth. “I’m so glad you came.” She gave him a hug and then went to Gloria.

  “Thank you, Gloria,” she said with another hug. Gloria smiled. Her short auburn hair was neatly pressed, and her tan, elegant face looked stricken with worry, despite her pleasant smile.

  “How are you, Angela?” she asked.

  “We’re all hanging in there,” Angela said. “How are your boys?”

  “Homesick,” Gloria replied.

  Burke stood as Angela turned to introduce him. “This is Special Agent Burke with the CIA.”

  Burke leaned forward and shook Martinez’s hand with a firm grip. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” Martinez said with a hint of suspicion in his eyes. Angela hoped that they would get along.

  “And these are my daughters, Lisa and Chassity,” Angela said. The two girls stared at the adults with blank expressions, holding back.

  Gloria’s face lit up. “Such beautiful girls.”

  Burke moved out of the booth and extended an arm, making room for the couple to sit. Gloria, however, had other ideas.

  “Thank you, but I’m not staying. I have to get back to the house. Manny was light on the details, but it’s my understanding that your daughters will be staying with us for a while. They can come back with me now while you talk.”

  Chassity and Lisa said nothing. But their faces showed they weren’t keen on the idea.

  “That’s correct,” Angela said. “And I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Mom, I don’t want to go with them,” Chassity said.

  Angela turned to Chassity, ready to deploy her stern mother voice. “Chassity. No. Not now. Please do as I ask. It will only be for a little bit.” She suddenly felt Lisa’s hands grip her sides.

  “No, mom. You can’t leave us!”

  Her trembling voice was enough to break Angela’s heart, but it was the only way. She hugged Lisa and led her out of the booth. “I won’t be gone long, honey. Now please. You have to go.”

  Before parting, Gloria touched Angela’s arm and asked if she could have a quick word. Just the two of them. Angela agreed. “Be right back,” she said, as they walked to the restroom together.

  Once in the double-stall bathroom, Gloria turned to her and spoke plainly, dropping the polite niceties of a few minutes before. In a voice that was adamantly serious, she told Angela, “I will watch your daughters for you. I already told Manny that. Our lives have been uprooted, changed forever over all of this. Manny will never be the same after what those bastards did to us.” She grimaced but didn’t look away. “Now we’re under constant surveillance. We have to tell the FBI where we’re going and why. We barely managed to get here. My sons are scared and we can’t leave them alone like this. That is why I must leave.”

  Angela nodded and then opened her mouth, prepared to thank her. But she was cut off as Gloria continued.

  “Now you must promise me something.”

  “Anything,” Angela said.

  “Whatever help you need from Manny, you make sure nothing happens to him. He has done enough. I’m sick to death of this terrorism. And I don’t want him involved in anything dangerous.”

  “Of course,” Angela said.

  “That’s not all. We had to lie to the FBI to come here. And we will have to lie when I come back without Manny, but with two young girls. I’m only doing this because he told me that you have a plan to stop another attack. But I do not want him to do any field work. I don’t want him in any danger. And I want him home soon.” Her fierce, greenish-eyes were full of conviction. It was obvious Martinez meant the world to her, and Angela knew that she was extremely fortunate to have them even show up.

  “I promise,” she said. “I will not allow any harm to come to him.”

  “Good,” Gloria said. “Because if you do, I will hold you personally responsible. He shouldn’t even be out of bed… He should be resting…” She lowered her head and sighed. “But you know Manny. Once he puts his mind to something, there’s no turning him back.”

  “I’ve seen it first hand,” Angela said. “We’re going to be okay, Gloria. I just need him for twenty-four hours. Tops.”

  “I want him home by noon tomorrow. That is final.”

  Tomorrow noon? Angela took the offer without protesting. She wanted to remain on Gloria’s good side as long possible. There wasn’t time to go into her own story and the crushing loss of her husband, and even when Gloria mentioned Doug, Angela said that he was fine. It felt comforting to think that he was. It didn’t feel like a lie at all. Having come to an agreement, they quickly left the restroom and returned to the group waiting in near the corner booth. Captain Martinez was sitting across from Burke as Lisa and Chassity stood fidgeting with a nearby gumball machine.

  Angela approached them, knowing the time to part had come. At that moment, she could have taken Burke’s advice and fled to some place
far from all the madness, where they would be safe. Instead she took both girls by the hand and told them that it was time to go.

  Gloria hugged Martinez, not wanting to let him go, as tears streamed from her eyes. “Don’t stay out long,” she told him. “I want you back home with your family tomorrow.”

  “Yes, my love,” Martinez said.

  Angela led her apprehensive daughters out of the restaurant with Gloria. She assured them that she wouldn’t be long and told them they needed to behave for Mrs. Martinez.

  They walked outside, following Gloria to the silver Toyota Corolla. She leaned down and hugged both girls, squeezing them tightly. “I love you both very much. Be good, and I’ll see you soon.”

  Lisa began to cry, but Angela couldn’t stall any longer. She went against her motherly instinct and corralled them into the car. She then turned to Gloria, who was waiting nearby.

  “Your girls will be fine,” Gloria said. “I’ll watch over them like they were my own.”

  “Thank you again. From the bottom of my heart,” Angela said, giving her a hug.

  A faint smile crossed Gloria’s face. It quickly faded as she reverted back to her serious manner. “Just remember what I said. Remember the promise you made to me.”

  “I will,” Angela said. “I won’t let him out of my sight.”

  Gloria got in the car and started it as Angela waved to her two unhappy daughters sitting in the back. Their safety was all she ever wanted. She smiled as the car backed out, and she called to them one more time, telling the girls that she loved them. As they pulled away, Chassity’s scowl and Lisa’s crying had only intensified.

  Angela had friends who would say that separating herself from her daughters in such a swift, unexpected fashion would add to their trauma. They might be right, but the world had changed for the worse in a matter of days. Tears were to be expected. So was loss. Angela wasn’t going to submit to it or accept it as a new normal. She was going to do everything she could to fight it.

  She went back inside the diner. They had little time to convene. The café was closing soon, and strategy needed to be discussed. Martinez was aware of very little. The safe house didn’t have television or Internet. Martinez explained that it was supposed to be in the interest of his family’s safety.

  He didn’t know about the car bombings in Texas or the mosque shooting the day before. Angela had to quickly get him up to speed despite the initial shock it caused him. From the start, he was skeptical that they could do anything to stop further attacks. As Burke had argued before, Martinez believed self-preservation to be their best plan of action. But Angela was confident that he could be convinced otherwise, just as Burke had been.

  “I mean, look at me. I can barely walk. What are you proposing that we do?” Martinez said.

  “We need to find Asgar and put a bullet in him,” Burke said. “That’d be my first suggestion.”

  Angela slid a file across to Martinez, asking him to take a look. She didn’t go into detail about how they got the documents other than to say they were recovered in a raid. His eyes stopped once he got to the detailed plan of the nuclear plant strike.

  “Asgar has pushed up the attacks. They weren’t originally supposed to happen until two weeks from now,” Angela said.

  “After the raid, he got worried,” Burke added. “A number of his militants have been killed. His circle of support is dwindling. All he has left now are these attacks.”

  Martinez studied the document, silent. The Arabic writing said everything. The nuclear power plant attack was imminent.

  “And who knows,” Burke said. “He could push it up sooner than that.”

  Martinez looked up from the documents, his bruised face pale and troubled. “I want to stop these terrorists as much as anyone else, but I don’t understand it. Why not take this higher up?” He motioned to Burke. “Get the CIA involved. Hell, put it on the president’s desk. This isn’t our responsibility. You’re talking about finding Asgar? He could be anywhere right now. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  Angela and Burke glanced at each other from the opposite side of the table. She felt that she couldn’t keep Martinez in the dark much longer. To win his support, it was time for full disclosure.

  “Special Agent Burke and I… we’re off the grid. Sort of like you were. My family… my husband and girls, were kidnapped by Asgar’s men.” She suddenly lowered her head and covered her eyes. “They killed Doug.”

  Martinez’s eyes widened with shock. “What?” he shouted. “Oh my God, Angela. Are you serious?”

  “Yes…” she said, raising her head and exposing a face wet with tears.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t-I don’t know what to say.”

  Angela touched Burke’s arm, startling him. “Special Agent Burke helped me rescue my daughters. He’s the only reason they are here today. We went in alone, just as you had done in that other terrorist hideout, and killed every man in our way.”

  Martinez reeled back in his vinyl seat. He had gone nearly ghost white and didn’t look able to say a word.

  “Now we’re considered persons of interest by the government,” Burke added. “Our own government.”

  “I told Chief Drake about the attacks. He doesn’t know anything of what we’ve done. But he did tell me that the FBI is looking for us.”

  Martinez snapped out of his state of shock and leaned forward. “It’s simple. Deploy the National Guard to every nuclear power station in the country. Tell them to do that now.”

  “The governor already issued a state of emergency in Texas. He also declared martial law,” Burke said. “Has that managed to stop a damn thing?”

  Martinez went silent again, thinking to himself. He nodded and stroked the stubble on his cheeks with one hand.

  “It’s up to us,” Angela said. “We can find Asgar. We can stop this thing.”

  “We found you,” Burke said.

  Martinez looked up, unamused. His raised his good arm in protest. “I can barely process all this shit as it is. And I still don’t know what you want from me.”

  Angela leaned in closer as patrons shuffled out of the café. The waitress looked over at them, prepared to remind them of the closing time.

  “I need you to get hold of the Outlaws. Every last one of them. They know you and trust you. And we need their help on this.”

  Martinez shook his head. “Easier said than done.”

  “We have to try,” Angela said. “With their help we can bring Asgar out of hiding and stop this next attack from happening.”

  Martinez shook his head, clearly conflicted. “This is a real long shot, Agent Gannon. I don’t trust the FBI either, but they should at least be made aware of this. I know you said they are already aware, but tell them again. You were right about the attacks yesterday. They might be more willing to believe you this time. And what happens if we fail?”

  Burke cleared his throat and folded his hands together, staring Martinez directly in the eye. “We fail this mission, and the entire state of Texas is finished.”

  8

  Doomsday Prelude

  A semi-derelict three-story warehouse outside Wichita Falls, Texas, now operated as one of the few hideouts Salah Asgar had left. The wide concrete structure had several windows on each floor, many of them without glass and covered with black tarp inside, concealing any activity going on.

  A chain-link fence surrounded the stained and faded warehouse walls, which had three parallel lines of rusty barbed wire running along its top. Construction signs were posted amid bundles of lengthy steel beams, stacks of cinder blocks, and piles of dry-cement bags.

  The warehouse had the façade of an off-limits site undergoing extensive renovation. The construction company, McGrath, Inc., was a front, but it looked legitimate enough to the casual eye. Foreign interest with deep pockets from overseas had purchased the property for the express purpose of aiding the ISIS sleeper cells in their conquest. There were many parties invested in the outcome, eagerly w
aiting for Asgar to deliver a fatal blow to the financial superpower that was the United States.

  No Trespassing and Caution signs hung from the fence surrounding the warehouse, old and rusty. Asgar had only utilized the building a few times in the past months, but with their next attack nearing, he wanted to be strategically positioned to direct further attacks against the enemy.

  His travel from safe house to safe house had been hasty. He arrived under intense circumstances at the old textile plant, where several of his men were waiting. They had all been urgently summoned to the warehouse with the same message: It is time for you to fulfill your duties.

  The warehouse was one hundred and fifty miles from Dallas. Terrorist strike-teams had already been deployed to their next targets, armed and ready to initiate the next phase in their deadly caliphate. Asgar wasn’t prepared to accept anything less than maximum casualties and destruction. And he was more determined than ever to ensure that it would happen.

  Unassuming vehicles filled the outside parking lot—trucks, sedans, cars, all American manufactured. Nearly everyone had arrived. Concealed gunmen acted as lookouts from the roof of the warehouse, scanning the surrounding forest with binoculars. They communicated through two-way radio and periodically provided updates to Asgar’s guards inside. So far, their gathering hadn’t warranted the attention of local authorities. The warehouse was conveniently located in an isolated area far down a dirt road where few residents ever ventured. There was no better place for the sleeper cell to rally.

  Their greatest concern, however, was aerial surveillance. Drones, helicopters, and fighter jets posed a considerable risk to their operations no matter where they met. Seven of their hideouts had been obliterated by secret drone strikes the day prior. The government was closing in, but Asgar was confident that the inconspicuous factory was a safe place to meet at. At least for a while.

  He had an insider at the Pentagon who had earlier informed them of the president’s directive to carry out the drone strikes. With this information they quickly evacuated any locations targeted. By now, they had only a few safe places left, but with any luck, the entire state of Texas would be reduced to ashes, just as their decimated hideouts had been. They were, however, balancing on the wire.

 

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