by Td Barnes
“This does place us back in the Stone Age, doesn’t it?" Lindsay said in a matter of fact tone. He turned to Colonel Barlow. “What’s your take on this, Colonel?”
Barlow laughed. “Leave me the hell out of this line of thought. You will notice that I brought my hairy-legged caveman with me to the mountain. I have no interest in dipping into any sperm canisters to harvest a crop of crumb snatchers.” Turning serious, she said. “I share Colonel Bradley’s farsighted concerns for our people. I hope leaders of other groups of survivors like ours will cooperate in mixing bloodlines. Frankly, I believe that is a long time coming. I expect our world will go through an extended period of territorial conquests to support individual groups like ours. Women will become a commodity again like in the Stone Age. Tom, don’t we have more immediate concerns to discuss today?”
Bradley chuckled. “I agree, Barlow. Let us drop the subject of pussy raids and talk about pussycats. How did we get off the topic of family pets and into social issues, if we can call it that? I cannot believe that I have this concern, much less the solution that I am proposing. I am speaking of the cat population. I specifically wanted the families to bring their cats with them for rodent control. Rats may be a health issue and very destructive to our equipment. You will need a neutering policy to control population much like the requirement for dogs. I would encourage letting a controlled number of cats run wild and live in the nooks, especially the motor pool. These desert pack rats can destroy a vehicle quicker than anything can. I suggest you train your apprentices to monitor our animal populations and with the cats, ensure they are taking up residence anywhere there might be a population of rodents. I better not catch the cats or the rodents teaming up to hang around my mess halls.” They laughed at the thought of both the cats and rodents finding food at the mess hall and teaming up or conducting turf fights over scraps.
Bradley started to excuse the veterinarian but thought of something he had missed. “Doctor, we will need a supply of K-9 guard dogs when we leave the mountain, primarily for military uses, but I would imagine each settler family will want one for their security.”
****
It only appeared to those inside the mountain that everything remained healthy outside their door. Former MSGT Berry Hathcock had halted the convoy before it entered the perimeter of the mountain to avoid detection by video cameras or motion detectors. Hathcock had served three tours in Afghanistan, so he did not consider the mission today a big deal. He used his binoculars to note the absence of anyone outside the mountain from the lack of disturbance in the snow.
He assembled the two former staff sergeants that he had selected for his platoon leaders. Together they reviewed the topo map of the area and those depicting the layout of the compound that Sergeant Taylor had somehow located at the National Atomic Testing Museum on Flamingo Ave. Looking through their binoculars; they found the motion detectors and remote control cameras. “We will take out the eyes of the enemy during the first phase of this engagement,” he told the two sergeants. He pointed to the camera on the top of the mountain. “Take that one out first,” he ordered.
Both Bradley and the XO glanced along the buffet line before pouring their drinks. “The cooks do a good job of disguising the MREs, don’t they?” she said.
“That they do. They turn out some good grub. One just should not ask what it is that they are eating. I hate to give a patty of soy credit for being a good hamburger. Hell, they even make canned turkey taste like whatever they want.”
“I like the fruitcake that comes in the meals,” Bradley said.
“Yuk! You must be kidding.”
They made small talk while they ate their meal, finally getting around to the business of the mountain as they always did. “Barlow, we haven’t heard from anyone in our military chain of command since Omaha shut down. Do you ever wonder if we even have a military besides here at the mountain?”
“Are you asking if I have doubts that you will get your star and me my chicken wings?” She said laughing. “Yes, I have wondered if . . . . “
The intercom interrupted their chat. “Colonel Bradley, this is Captain Callahan. Please pick up on the intercom.”
“Bradley,” Bradley said into the intercom on the wall. “What’s up, Captain?”
“Sir, we’ve lost the signal to the number 5 camera.”
“Any other anomalies to report?”
“No, sir.”
“Get Commo on it and keep me up to date. Hmmm. Tell the duty squad to be on their toes. The XO and I will head your way. It is most likely only a camera malfunction. We certainly need a spare up there.”
“Yes, sir."
The XO looked at him with concern while he thoughtfully made his way back to the table. “Camera on the Hill is out,” he said. "Commo is on the way to check it out. I suppose we should head that way and finish chowing down afterward.”
“And talk some more about your promotion to 06,” he jested. “Aren’t you about due for an OER, Officer Efficiency Report?”
They arrived a moment after the communications technician finished hooking up a continuity checker to the coaxial cable that powered and carried the signal from the camera.
“Sir, the connection is broken. It may be cut,” the soldier reported.
“What?” Bradley and the others locked their eyes on the monitors. He and his XO looked at each other. “Captain, I suggest you mobilize the troops,” he ordered. “Lockdown the mountain."
“I do not like the feel of this,” Callahan whispered to Bradley and the XO.
“Nor do I,” Bradley replied. “I believe you should double the number of troops at both portals. You and Colonel Barlow may cover the south portal. The sergeant major and I will cover this entrance. Have your platoon leaders and NCOs prep the rest of the troops for deployment on short notice.”
“What about those who came from the last shift?”
“Let them sleep for now.”
“Sir, we have movement at the south portal,” one of the guards called out. Before anyone could react, he said, “We’ve lost the motion detector.”
“They’re here. Get a move on, Callahan. I saw the handcart parked at the mess. You’d better take it for speed.”
“Yes, sir. Do you want me to alert the mountain?” The shift officer asked.
“I believe I should make the announcement,” Bradley said. He walked over to the shift officer’s desk and picked up the microphone. The shift officer switched the output to all-stations mode.
“This is Colonel Bradley. We have received indications that we may have hostile visitors outside the mountain. It is unconfirmed, but I am placing the mountain on condition blue to be on the safe side. Please secure the children, and everyone stands by their station as we practiced in the drills. All civilians must wear your Kevlar and carry your gas mask on your person. All military personnel report to your duty station immediately. This is not a drill.”
The residents had routinely conducted mandatory drills, most starting to do so the second week at the mountain for such an occasion. They had set up three safe rooms in designated sectors spread throughout the mountain for the residents where a teenage girl in each area took control of any children not with their parents. The plan called for the girl swiftly leading the children into the interior of the mountain to their assigned safe room to join the rest of the dependents and protected residents in that sector. The medical staff ran to operate the clinics and the first responders to their radiation and biological detection stations.
Bradley, seeing everyone manning their stations, stepped into the Command Center, and instructed the radio operator to transmit an SOS message informing anyone listening of the mountain is under attack. Now it became a matter of seeing what those on the outside planned to do.
“Sir, we’ve lost another motion detector and camera. We did not see any action indication.”
“They must be shooting them out. I fear we may have some professionals out there." He looked at the radiation mon
itor. “Whoever is out there is getting zapped with some heavy dosage,” he observed.
Taylor’s army systematically located each of the perimeter surveillance defenses during the next hour and took them out with a sniper rifle. The mountain defenses could only watch and wait to see what the attackers planned to do. They did not know how many they faced or envisaged to do next, however, no one doubted what they wanted. They wanted the mountain.
SGM Jack Weston finished his rounds of the defenses at the north portal and joined Bradley in the Command Center. He shook his head in disbelief while sitting down across the conference table from Bradley. Neither spoke for a moment.
“What’s your take on the situation, Sergeant Major?” Bradley asked.
Weston thought for a moment and replied, “I believe we have a clusterfuck on our hands, Colonel.”
“And?”
“They’re playing games with our heads. Someone out there has spent some time in PSYOPS psychological operations.”
“That is my take on the situation also. Someone knows what they are doing. They’ve taken out the eyes of their enemy, so what is next?”
“I would be thinking of a way to smoke out the enemy if I found myself up against an impregnable mountain as they are,” Weston replied. “They do not want collateral damage to our food stores so that they will use gas. On the way, I instructed the defenders to have their gas masks ready for use.”
“They’ll make their move before the radiation makes them sick. How much time do they have at our current radiation level?”
“I am not sure. Let’s go ask our rad team."
The sergeant major and he found the radiation personnel checking their first responder equipment in the rad-safe alcove. Most likely Bradley and Weston showed up purely for lacking something else to do while waiting for whatever lay in store next from the unknown on the outside. The walk to the rad-safe occupied their minds. They learned at rad-safe that depending upon their dosage levels before arriving at the mountain, those on the outside might survive a week or more at the current radiation level
The PSYOPS technique of those outside the mountain apparently worked. Bradley recognized this and how it probably affected everyone the same way. Mimicking the scene in the movie Titanic where the band members played music while the others tried to escape — he ordered for the piping of soft music over the intercom throughout the mountain. He waited 15 minutes before interrupting the music to provide the residents an update to his initial message.
“This is Colonel Bradley,” he said in a relaxed tone resembling that of an airline pilot addressing his passengers. “Folks, it looks like we are in a holding pattern for a while, so go about your business, and enjoy the ride with the assurance that we have everything under control. The mess will serve meals on schedule. Ask one of our staff or the head of your section if you have any questions.”
“Thanks, sergeant,” he said, handing the microphone back to the sergeant who patched the music back in. “Keep the music playing and if you want, throw in a bit of DJ rhetoric for entertainment.”
He turned to the sergeant major. “Sergeant Major, ensure that the kitchen personnel is back on the job. See if they can come up with something special. Let’s keep things at the mountain at a routine level to the extent that we can.”
The gray haze hung in the valley like a major inversion with the density of fog. This played a major part in the invaders successfully evading detection by those inside the mountain.
The rest of the army remained inside the vehicles to minimize exposure to the radiation except for the spotters and sniper taking out the motion detectors and cameras. The noxious stench of body odor in the vehicles became nearly unbearable from them having been unable to bath for up to weeks for some. A few of the soldiers with longer past exposure to the radiation now experienced diarrhea. Two vomited inside one of the vehicles.
Several expressed rebellions, wanting to exit the vehicles since they wore dosimeters to protect from the radiation. Nonetheless, the sergeant commanding the invasion refused to allow his soldiers to expose themselves until the right time. He knew that most would not survive to enjoy the fruits of victory. He intended to take the mountain and enjoy the benefits of having done so. Once he took the mountain, he planned to relieve Sergeant Taylor of his command of the army
“Any luck on the radios?” Bradley asked when he walked into the Command Center.
“Negative, sir. Nurse Martin left a message for you. Staff Sergeant Riley’s wife has gone into labor. She is at the clinic.”
Bradley saw the sergeant major walk by and called out to him. Bradley realized the company CO being at the south portal and thus decided to act in his stead. He instructed the sergeant major to send someone to locate and relieve Riley so he could join his wife and arrange for someone to care for their two-year-old son.
Earlier in his military career, Bradley had attended PSYOPS training and even conducted such training once while a field grade officer. Nonetheless, he found the lack of control and knowledge of their enemy unbearable. He found it difficult not to appear to be micromanaging his junior officers and NCOs.
He remained in the Command Center messing with his iPad to avoid doing so. His merely being inside a mountain suddenly made him slightly claustrophobic, something that he recognized being a nervous reaction to his helplessness to control the situation on the outside. He picked up his coffee mug and headed to the mess hall to shake it off.
He nodded recognition when he saw Stacey, Sammie, her boyfriend Raymond Bronson, Jerry, and his girlfriend sitting at a table visiting. He did not know if they did this for real or for the show to the others, but they appeared happy and relaxed. He slipped right into the mood though it did not readily show. He felt comfortable. Seeing his family erased his tension and softened the eternal stern look on his battle-scarred face.
“Sergeant Riley’s wife, Ann is in labor,” Stacey announced when he moved her Kevlar out of the way and sat down beside her.
“I know,” he said. “We’ll drop by the clinic in a bit to check on her. Sergeant Riley should be with her by now. I sent word to have him relieved from his duty station.”
“And that’s not all,” she exclaimed excitedly.
“What?”
“Our kids are planning a double wedding.”
A slight grin of happiness broke the stern look on Bradley’s face. He hugged the ladies and shook the hands of the men. The news of Sergeant Riley’s wife giving birth and the news of his two children’s plans for marriage gave him the emotional boost that he needed to challenge the threat lurking outside their door.
Bradley observed the designated mess officer noticeably surveying the tunnel in both directions from where he stood in the kitchen.
“What’s on your mind, Lieutenant?” Bradley called to him. “You appear concerned.”
“I am a bit concerned about our civilians should the enemy succeed in blasting through the door, sir. Can we defend them if they must evacuate from this proximity to the first and second lines of defense? Our defenders might be unable to fall back in time because of the presence of the civilians needing defending.”
Bradley did not need to mull the lieutenant’s fears for a second. “Good thinking, Lieutenant. Make it happen. Shut down the mess and fall your people back to kitchen number two. I’ll order the evacuation of any nonmilitary personnel.”
Feeling rejuvenated from the funk shrouding his thoughts when he arrived, he excused himself from his family, saying, “You heard the Lieutenant. Please help with the evacuation of nonmilitary personnel. Keep them calm about this. Thank goodness, there are not that many in this sector and most of them are military dependents. Stacey, you might want to check in with Sergeant Riley’s wife. She’s probably very nervous being in labor with someone threatening outside.”
MSGT Hathcock watched through his binoculars while his two volunteers struggled to climb the mountain to the side of the portal while avoiding observation from within. The dirty
air quality and the fallout mist combination made it difficult for him to follow their progress. One carried an ammo box filled with grenades and two chlorine canisters while the other brought a stepladder. Twice they nearly lost the box of grenades while slipping on the wet rock.
The two former airmen from Nellis Air Force Base struggled for a little over ten minutes before reaching the two air ducts extending upwards to the upper side of the massive steel door. The one with the stepladder leaned it onto the vent carrying rushing air out of the mountain. One climbed to the top while the other climbed halfway with the box of grenades. The airman pulled the pin on the grenade, dropped the grenade into the vent duct, and quickly hunkered down to be out of the blast. “Fire in the hole,” he called to the other.
Both heard the grenade hit something metallic and moments later heard the slightly muffled sound of it exploding. He reached down into the box and retrieved another. They repeated the action ten times before shifting the ladder and doing the same with the intake air duct.
It quickly became apparent to them of something blocking the grenades from doing damage. One of the airmen handed up a chlorine canister to the other, both figuring that nothing could stop the sucking of the chlorine gas into the mountain along with the air. The one on the ground stood back to watch while the other triggered the canister and dropped it into the air intake. Both heard immediately the change in the sound of the air rushing into the mountain.
The airmen had failed to notice an ordinary joint of well casing extending two feet above the ground at the base of the intake pipe. The one on the ladder heard a new sound below him and looked down in surprise to see a cloud of dust and small pebbles blow out of the pipe. The sound of something rushing out of the pipe continued, but neither could see the chlorine gas while it recycled out of the mountain into the face of the airman on the ladder. His eyes bulged, and he gasped while his lungs filled with the deadly gas. He had died before his body hit the ground. The other airman jumped back and rushed off the mountain, following their earlier footsteps.
