by James Hunt
"That is an incredibly stupid question, Sacha. And I would advise you to avoid such language around the rest of the Brotherhood. They're much more suspicious of you than I. You see, I like you, but some of the others...well, they have their reasons. Just be careful what you ask, the others aren't as forgiving."
Sacha tried again. "So you don't know where we're going?" he asked.
They reached the end of the bombs forty-foot length. Ammon turned, not saying a word, and walked back out the trailer doors as Sacha followed. Once they were outside the trailer, he spoke. "I'm not sure. All I know is that Texas is a viable option. Now let's go back in the van and get some rest."
Sacha agreed and they headed towards the van as rain drops drizzled onto their heads. Before Sacha could open the van door Ammon stopped him and stared directly in the eyes.
"I can trust you, correct?" Ammon asked.
"Yes, you can trust me, Ammon, Sacha said.
Paul had only a few miles to go before he reached Denver's city limits. He was burning fuel quickly; driving upwards of 90 to 100 miles per hour while trying to stay ahead of the police. They were approaching in the distance. The helicopter followed his every movement from above. Though hopeful and determined, the possibility of evading the authorities began to seem like a futile exercise. Paul's only hope was that a barrage of police cars weren't awaiting him ahead with tire strips, barricades, and tanks for that matter. Towering skyscrapers were in sight, but the police showed no signs of slowing down. Paul pressed the gas pedal down as far as it would go. The pedal shook against the floorboard as the engine smoked. The radiator light flashed along with the fuel light. His car was rapidly approaching the end, and he still had several miles to go.
Inside the city, complete bedlam had broken out, in and around the convention center. The unnerved crowds had pushed far past the mandated barricades and off-limit areas, forcing the police and military to move back further. There were simply too many people to contend with. They numbered in the thousands, and once the convention center got too full, the people demanded free rein throughout the city. News reports of the missing megabomb had propelled the city into greater panic and fear, teetering on chaos. Soon men and women, young and old, managed to spread throughout the city looking for places to hide or a way to flee. One group of unruly men managed to overtake a large public bus, and commandeer it away from the convention center.
Frustrated youths donned bandanas and smashed nearby stores windows with bricks. The police and military broke into pockets of resistance as to control the random looting, but there was little control left. Hundreds of others were just scared. Scared of the overwhelming crowds, scared of the growing animosity in the streets, and scared that a bomb was soon going to wipe them all out. Several helicopters deployed overhead, dropping riot police onto the scene. As they slid down the ropes, hitting the pavement, they raised their riot guns in the air and fired several canisters of tear gas into the crowd. Their riot control methods were effective in drawing the crowd back towards the convention center, but also created a frenzied panic that sent several people to the ground in a stampede.
Paul was close. He just had to remember the location of Arthur's studio. The police were quickly and aggressively gaining. It was only a matter of time before they swept him off the road and into a jail cell, if he was so lucky. The Malibu was on its last lap. The steering wheel shook as Paul's hands perspired within his tightened grip. Smoke billowed from the front and the back of the car as the dashboard lights randomly flickered from one warning light to the next like blinking Christmas lights. Paul was pretty sure that the Malibu wouldn't make its way back into the mountains at the end of the day.
He swerved past a deserted checkpoint and remained focused on getting into the city against all the odds. A single helicopter followed his every move from above. In the broad daylight he had nowhere to hide and even if he made it, the police weren't going anywhere. They would follow him to the end.
Once Samantha and Julie made it to the bottom of the hill, beyond the overlook, they came upon another steep hill that led to the cavern. No one was around, to be sure, but how safe were they in the wilderness, alone, and armed with only Paul's pistol? Samantha could hear helicopters overhead, but they were far away. Smoke rose in the distance, following the explosion that startled both her and Julie.
"Where are we going?" Julie asked, trying to catch her breath.
"Up there," Samantha pointed. "We're going to lay low until Paul gets back. He's going to meet us in that cavern."
"All the way up there?" Julie scoffed. "Couldn't you guys have come up with an easier meet-up spot?"
"It's what we decided on," Samantha said, close to tears.
"But what about bears or cougars or something?"
Samantha trekked on while fighting back her heavy sadness and fear for Paul. They should have stuck together. Why would he leave them? What difference did some stupid laptop make? They should have ditched the Malibu and ran into the cavern together. Her thoughts subsided when she realized that there was more to everything than her own personal happiness. If this Arthur character could help them, maybe they could stop the bomb in time. She wasn't sure. Julie noticed her mother's frazzled state and locked an arm around her like an escort.
"We'll be okay, Mom," Julie said.
"I know we will," Samantha said as Julie pulled her along.
With every step upward, they fought the push of gravity and the thinning air. They were hungry, tired, and thirsty. They both tried to ignore their stomach’s growling and make their way up the hill before it was too late. The prospect of granola bars in Paul's backpack gave Samantha something to look forward to. They hadn't encountered any animals yet and she hoped that once they made it to the cavern, their track record would remain the same. They climbed the hill in their exhaustion; breaths heavy and labored, hoping to reach the top. What awaited them was uncertainty. An uncertain outcome and an uncertain future, though Samantha held onto hope like a precious family heirloom in the most dire of circumstances.
After a grueling hike, the cavern awaited them. It was a small opening into the crevice of a vast mountain that they had no hope of climbing. Not in their condition.
"We made it," Samantha said.
"Now what?" Julie asked.
"We make sure it's safe then we rest. I've got bottles of water and snacks."
"Why didn't you say so? I've been dying of thirst," Julie said.
"We didn't have any time. We had to make it here before we did anything," Samantha replied.
"Who are we running from? Why are we in trouble? Why did they say you guys were terrorists?"
Julie's line of questioning was the precise reason why Samantha didn't want to stop and eat, though she felt like she could have at least made sure Julie was hydrated. There was simply no explaining the weight of the situation to a child. Samantha may have underestimated Julie's comprehension, but the story was sordid and unnerving. Why put it on her daughter at once?
"There's been a mix-up," Samantha said. "But Paul is going to work it all out and then we'll be okay."
It felt like the greatest lie she had ever told Julie. Even as she said the words, they felt hollow and disingenuous. She had to believe it though; if not for herself, for the both of them. Paul was coming back and the world was going to be saved, even in its less than ideal state. They ventured towards the cavern when Samantha stopped and threw Paul's backpack off her shoulders. Julie watched her curiously as she retrieved the pistol and flashlight from inside.
"For the animals," Samantha said, "if we find any."
"I hope you're a good shot," Julie said cautiously.
They walked towards the cavern with Samantha leading. The opening was welcoming, sunlight beamed inside, lighting a path of sparkling rocks and stone walls. No creature had claimed the immediate area, and they were safe to venture inside.
"Let's take a breather," Samantha said, as she sat against the wall.
"Finally," Julie
said back.
They sat quietly as Samantha dispensed snacks and water between her and Julie. Julie had ended her insistent line of questioning to bask in the goodness of granola bars and water. It wasn't much, but it made all the difference. The chaos beyond the mountains, deep within the city was a foregone conclusion; all they had to focus on was the now. No one would find them, and they would wait patiently until everything was over.
Paul was blocks from the radio studio as the police surrounded him. Several police cars abandoned the pursuit when they were called away to deal with the growing riots near the convention center, but enough remained to take Paul down. The Malibu skid to the side of a red brick building and crashed without warning. The airbag smashed Paul in the face, bloodying his knuckles, and leaving him disoriented. Five police cars surrounded the crash site as they jumped out of their cars and drew their weapons.
"Get out of the car and put your hands on your head!" an officer yelled.
Paul felt warm blood trickle down his forehead. He looked to the passenger seat and saw that the laptop had been flung to the floor. He unbuckled his seatbelt and lurched forward to grab the laptop as the voices of authority shouted to him from their concealed positions. He hadn't traveled this far, leaving his wife and step-daughter behind, just to be apprehended. He staggered out of the crumpled and smoking Malibu with the laptop in-hand.
The police officer shouted new instructions.
"Lie down on the ground and put your hands above your head!"
Paul walked out of his car to see police knelt down outside their cars on each side of him. Clutching the laptop, he placed one hand in the air as a symbol of surrender. Momentarily, the police lowered their weapons; presuming that Paul was unarmed. With a bloodied face, he made a motion to indicate compliance, then ran down to the side of the other building, down the alleyway before they could even figure out what to do.
Two police officers from the north side fired upon Paul, missing both times. The gun shots jolted him, further realizing the suicidal nature of his mission. He ran down the very familiar alleyway that he had seen before. It was dumb luck on his part, but he gave no dispute. Taken aback, the police scrambled to chase Paul, but he had made it far down the alleyway before they came to their senses.
He ran to the door known to him and pounded on it fervently. The police, three of them, descended quickly down the narrow path towards him, past the dumpsters and upright barrels that aligned the alley. The door swung open, revealing Arthur in his disheveled and wary state.
"You again?" he asked.
"Let me in, quick, the cops are chasing me," Paul stammered.
Arthur backed up in a resistant manner.
"What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?" he asked.
"Just let me in, I have information about everything!" Paul said.
Arthur peeked outside and saw the police charging towards them, though his back alley door was behind a large green dumpster and neither Paul nor Arthur could be seen.
"Alright, come in, but, so help me God, you better not get me shot."
Paul ran in as Arthur shut the metal door and applied the many deadbolts. He quickly knelt down to spy through the lower mail slot in the door. He watched as legs ran past the door in a fury. Arthur rose to his feet and proceeded to interrogate.
"What is it now, my friend? Did you find your wife?"
Paul held the laptop proudly in his arms, and pushed Arthur aside, ignoring his direct questioning.
"Just listen to me for a moment. Are you able to broadcast yet?" Paul asked.
Arthur thought to himself, trying to figure out what Paul wanted and why he had burst into his studio in such labored haste.
"It depends. What are you doing here?" he asked.
Paul held up the laptop like a glittering prize.
"What you said earlier, about the airport and the secret society, it's true. I have Senator Bryant's laptop, he's trying to create World War Three and we have to stop him."
Arthur took a step back and examined Paul closely. His visitor was smeared with blood on his forehead and his hands. Arthur wanted to keep it low-key and here was this man bringing the police right to him.
"You went to the airport?" Arthur asked.
"Yes, I did. I found my wife. She was in a bunker with Senator Bryant. She escaped and stole his laptop. There's enough information on this thing to expose the entire conspiracy. Bryant engineered the nuclear attacks with some sort of organization he belongs to. They set up the entire thing and I have the evidence!"
"I have to say, I'm not surprised," Arthur said, clearing his throat.
"We don't have much time. The police are surrounding the building as we speak. We have to broadcast this information before it's too late," Paul said with conviction.
Arthur held his hand up in resistance. "Just hold on a minute here, Paul. I don't even know if I can send anything out, and even if I could, what difference would it make?"
"People need to know the truth!" Paul shouted. "I left my wife and daughter to come here. The media has labeled us terrorists, all because of the information we have. We have to get it out there!"
"You don't understand. I've been talking about people like Senator Bryant for years. People don't care about those kinds of thing anymore. After the nuclear attacks everyone is just trying to survive. What you have on that laptop doesn't amount to a hill of beans," Arthur said.
A sudden pounding came upon the door followed by shouts from the police. Paul jumped as Arthur looked on. His apprehension about letting Paul into the building was verified. He had made a mistake, and now there was no turning back.
"This is it, Paul, they're on to us now. Is this what you wanted? Now we'll both end up in the gulags with the others, all for what, some laptop?"
"The megabomb, it's real. Bryant and his people set it up. The plan was to have terrorists transport the bomb and then intercept it from them. The various nationalities of the terrorists would then be used to further wage war against a slew of countries around the world, decimating the American military force, thus rendering it a powerless country. It's part of their global order, and it's all on this laptop."
"I'm aware of their lofty ambitions, but even I have a hard time believing they could actually pull it off," Arthur said.
"They haven't yet. They lost control. The terrorist group is off the map, and they're going to use the bomb. They're going to detonate the megabomb. We have to stop them, I don't care how, but we've got to try," Paul pleaded.
"Reports of that missing bomb have the entire city in a frenzy. If we broadcast that officials in the U.S. government willingly armed terrorists with a nuclear bomb, I don't know what the people will do, but it's not going to be pretty."
"We don't have a choice," Paul said. "The people have to know."
"Do you know which terrorist group has the bomb? Do you know where and when they plan to deploy it?" Arthur asked.
"Senator Bryant has to know. If we get the word out, turn the heat up on him then we can get closer to finding the bomb."
Only Paul had no clue that the good Senator was already dead.
"This is insane," Arthur said. "And coming from me, that's quite an overstatement."
"Just give me five minutes, let me show you what's on this laptop. Please, Arthur, you're my only hope."
Paul followed Arthur into the radio studio in haste. He had little time to go into all the intricate details, so he simply opened the laptop and files, and gave Arthur a glimpse into the vast conspiracy that Arthur, in all his years of railing against the government, couldn't have imagined if he tried.
"This says everything. If I didn't see it for myself, I would have never believed it."
Arthur took a minute to read through some of the files. There were correspondent emails between Senator Bryant and his contacts about specific times and locations for the nuclear strikes, one of the key locations involving Washington D.C. It was almost too much to take in, but the severity of
the situation shook him the core. Either Senator Bryant had wild and deplorable fantasies that frighteningly mirrored real life or he was a part of the entire thing.
"Can you broadcast this on the air?" Paul asked straightforwardly.
"I might be able to, if you would give me a minute," Arthur said with frustration.
He messed around with wires and connections for minutes as banging came to the front door, startling both of them.
"They're right outside the door now. Are we good to go yet, or what?" Paul asked.
"Hold on a damn minute!" Arthur shouted. "I've been trying to go live for weeks now. It's not just going to happen in a flash."
The banging continued. The police had a door battering ram in their midst and used it to repeatedly club the front door of the studio while Paul and Arthur scrambled.
"Okay, I think I have it. They've been blocking frequencies for some time now, but we should be able to get this out there," Arthur said as sweat poured from his forehead.
The bashing upon the door grew louder. The police were close to storming the room and snatching Arthur and Paul like common criminals.
"Go. Speak, dammit, speak," Arthur said after pressing a mess of buttons on the control panel.
"Is this going out?" Paul asked. "I don't want to be talking to dead air."
Arthur ran from the mixing board into the studio, nearly at the point of a nervous breakdown.
"It's as good as it's going to get, just say your piece, quickly!"
Paul leaned into the microphone and spoke as the battering outside thundered within the studio.
"If anyone is listening to this, ignore the news broadcasts because I have the truth. Senator Bryant of Colorado is part of a massive conspiracy to destroy the United States with nuclear bombs in strategically selected areas. They're a group that call themselves The Masterminds. They had it all planned out. They stole a nuclear bomb, known as the megabomb, and lost track of it with a rouge terrorist group in New York City. The terrorist group is currently traveling with the bomb with the intent to use it. We can stop this. I don't know where they plan to detonate it, but if everyone looks for these people we can stop them. They say that the megabomb will take up to five states out at once when they detonate it. We have to find it before it's too late."
