by Ryan King
"Don't ask questions," Major Luke Carter told him. "Just execute like I trained you to do. Take care of your men, accomplish your mission, and get back here as fast as you can."
David intended to do just that. It made him nervous that his subordinate elements were spread out so far. The other squads were at the very edge of radio range, and their transmissions kept cutting in and out. David had set up with one squad along I-40, the most direct and likely approach route.
"What are we supposed to be looking for?" asked Conner, his squad leader.
"Beats me," answered David. "I guess we're making sure no one steals all the radioactive banjos from the Grand Ole Opry."
His men snickered at this and settled down to watch the road with binoculars and rifle scopes from their position high on the hill above.
David had his men take shifts watching and resting. Surveillance was slow, monotonous work, and if you didn't take breaks, it would wear you down and sap your awareness just when it was needed most. He had just settled down for a nap under a small bush when Conner shook him.
"Someone's coming along the road."
Shaking his head free of drowsiness, David rolled over and crawled to the observation point. He took the proffered binoculars and gazed down at the road. At first, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He counted twenty-five large trucks. The vehicles in the front and back were military five-tons with machine guns mounted from the turret in the top of the cab. The rest of the vehicles were an assortment of moving vans, large flatbed trucks, and even two fuel tankers.
"Those are WTR soldiers," Conner said.
David looked through the binoculars and saw it was true. "Why in the hell would they be going in there?"
"Should we stop them?" Conner asked.
"How the hell would we do that?" David asked. "Run down the hill screaming at them? Likely get us shot up."
"Why would you want to stop them?" asked another soldier.
Conner shrugged. "I don't know. I thought the WTR were supposed to be our friends now. That's all."
David went back to looking at the convoy through the binoculars. "You believe that if you want to, buddy, but I won't. Them Tennessee boys are just biding their time, waiting for us to relax so they can hit us in the back of the head with a brick."
Conner turned away mumbling.
Taking notes on a piece of paper, David remembered that Conner had extended family in Tennessee. Doesn't change anything, he thought. David kept watching and taking notes until the convoy passed out of sight around a curve in the road. He noted the time and wrote it down.
"Okay, let's relax and see if they come to their senses and turn around," David said.
They waited nearly all day before the convoy returned. This time, the vehicles rode low on their suspensions, the flatbed trucks and vehicles piled so high with booty and stolen gear that they threatened to tip over at every curve in the road.
"Good God!" said Connor. "Don't they know all that stuff is radioactive? They're all going to get radiation sickness and then that crap is going to get anyone else who comes around it sick. Are they that dumb?"
"I'm not sure," said David, taking notes. "The only thing I can figure is either they're very desperate or they don't have a Geiger counter."
"Maybe they were ordered to come do it," Connor said. "I've heard stories about how General Sampson would get people to do things they didn't want to by threatening their families."
"That's because he was a crazy nut-job dictator," answered David. "Their new president Ethan Schweitzer is nothing like Jeb Sampson."
"Well something's definitely not right," Connor grumbled.
"Not arguing with you there, partner," said David as the convoy went out of sight.
David rolled over on his back to review his notes on the convoy and their arrival and departure times. His father had told him to report the information as soon as he received it. David didn't like sending intelligence over an open radio, but fortunately, they had established brevity codes.
"Condor, condor, this is Blue Duck, do you read?" David said over the radio.
"This is Condor, go ahead," answered a voice at the other end after a few seconds hesitation.
"Relay to Brown Bear that we saw twenty-five large fish this morning around eight and then just saw the same twenty-five at sunset. They were hungry in the morning, but had evidently gotten their fill. Same type of fish we caught before." David made a face at the words. It was ridiculously corny and could easily be cracked by anyone with half of a brain, but they were counting on no one caring enough.
"Good copy, Blue Duck. Come on home and tell us the whole story."
"Will do. Be home soon," David answered and ended the call. "All right, call the other squads and tell them to link up at the rendezvous site. Our work here is done."
They packed up their gear and melted into the gathering shadows.
Chapter 8 - See It Coming
Conrad McKraven led Joshua and his men back nearly to Sikeston before walking into a large patch of woods the next morning. Joshua didn't see the military vehicles hidden under camouflage netting until they were right up upon them.
"Take it down," Conrad ordered his men who began to dismantle the netting.
"Hold on," said Joshua, pointing his assault rifle in Conrad's direction. He turned to his men. "Climb under the netting and check the vehicles first for any hidden weapons. Also, unhook their radios."
Conrad smiled and crossed his arms. "You strike me as the untrusting sort. My wife would tell you it's going to be hard for you to find a lady, but we all know it's pretty easy to get a lady these days...if you want one bad enough."
"Done," said Henry, one of Joshua's squad leaders, as he emerged from underneath the netting. He carried a box of grenades and a pistol in his arms and distributed them among Joshua's soldiers.
"Now that's just plain stealin'," said Conrad with a shake of his head.
"You'll get it all back," said Joshua. "Once I have my men and we're safely on our way."
"I'll hold you to that," said Conrad. "Now, can my men take down the camo screening so we can get on our way?"
Joshua nodded. "How far are we going?"
Conrad pointed west. "We're headed down Route 60 about forty miles. Our base camp is near Poplar Bluff. Your men will be there."
"Being questioned vigorously," said Joshua as he felt the heat rise in him again.
Conrad held his hands out to his side. "Hey, what can I say? It's nothing personal, just the world we live in now. I'm sure you'd do the same to us."
"Let's just get there," Joshua said.
They tore down the camouflage netting to reveal four cargo-style Humvees. They stowed the rolled-up netting in the bed of each truck between the two bench seats that faced each other. Joshua noted the unit stenciling on the back of each vehicle.
"Fort Leonard Wood?" asked Joshua. "That where you got these vehicles?"
"That's where we got these. Other stuff came from all over."
"You stole them from an army base?" Joshua asked.
Conrad looked around at Joshua's men. "You're telling me all your uniforms and assault rifles and machine guns were private property before N-Day?"
Joshua sighed. "Okay, point taken."
"Like I said, it's the world we live in," answered Conrad with a shrug.
They loaded up into the four vehicles. Joshua split his men evenly among Conrad's soldiers, jamming them in along the bench seats. He sat behind the passenger seat in the first vehicle. Conrad sat across from him. Joshua detailed one man to drive the Humvees and another to ride shotgun.
"You sure you know what you're doing?" asked Conrad. "I'd be a true friend if I could talk you into just releasing us so everyone could go their separate ways."
"That's not going to happen," said Joshua. "And don't even think about leading us into a trap or double-crossing us." Joshua pointed his rifle at Conrad. "If anything goes wrong, you'll be the first to die."
Conra
d put on a sad pouty face. "And here I thought we were getting close. What a sad, sad world it is we live in."
Joshua ignored him and watched the road as they rolled down Route 60. He noticed the landscape was much like the Jackson Purchase, but people were nowhere to be seen. Occasionally, he would spot a curtain drop back into place or a dirty figure dart through the underbrush, but no one openly moved around. There was a dead stillness over everything that reminded Joshua of their nightmare trek from Maryland to the JP.
"How you like Missouri?" asked Conrad.
"It looks dead."
"Now that's a little harsh," said Conrad. "Not everyone has an unlimited supply of electricity to power street lights, washing machines, and video games."
Joshua shook his head. "That's not the difference. The people here are obviously afraid."
"Well, of course they're afraid," said Conrad, throwing his hands in the air. "It's the goddamn end of the world. Nuclear bombs, disease, famine, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. What do you expect, a freaking street party?"
"Yes, but what's your part in all of this?" asked Joshua. "What does the Missouri Alliance have?"
Conrad chuckled. "Shows how out of your element you are here, chap. The Missouri Alliance is all that's left here. If not for the MA, we'd be dead or hiding in a hole. I'm guessing you have no idea what we're even about, do you?"
Joshua shrugged. "Some sort of militia, survivalist group, that sort of thing."
The gruff man sighed and dropped his head as if he had to explain something elementary to a small child. "There are militias and survivalists everywhere. They're nothing special. Colonel Vincent Lacert and his MA are safety. It's more than just surviving and being afraid every damn minute that someone is going to come along and rape your woman and eat your kids. The MA is a family. It's living."
"Sounds kinda nice," Joshua admitted. "So why are all the people hiding? As a matter of fact, where are all the people? They couldn't have all died?"
"Well, not everyone can be part of the MA," Conrad answered and turned away in a manner that clearly let Joshua know he was tired of the conversation.
They drove in silence for nearly an hour before they saw great billows of black smoke rising to their front. After another ten minutes, they could see vultures circling in giant lazy circles, riding the waves of heat and occasionally swooping down to earth.
They rounded a corner, and for as far as the eye could see, there were blackened and partially eaten corpses hanging from nearby trees along the road. The blackened corpses hung in neat lines on both sides of the road like gruesome holiday decorations.
"Stop!" yelled Joshua to the driver before turning to Conrad. "What the hell is this?"
"What?" asked Conrad innocently. "You don't have discipline or punishment in the JP?"
"This looks like more than just punishment," said Joshua. "And an awful damn lot of it."
Conrad shrugged. "What can I say? Some people are just hardheaded. It's not our fault."
"That smoke is about a mile away. Is that your main camp up ahead?" Joshua asked.
"It is," Conrad said. "But the MA boys are much closer than that."
"What the hell do you mean by—" Joshua was cut off by the sounds of men closing in around them from the forest and out of the ditches on each side. About fifty extremely well camouflaged men with rifles converged on the convoy.
"Easy everyone," soothed Conrad. "Let's not do anything too hasty. We've all become close friends now, haven't we?"
Only a second to decide, thought Joshua. No matter what, we can't let them take us. The men will follow my lead.
Pulling up his rifle quickly, Joshua shot the MA soldier in the woods nearest him before firing at what looked like a larger group further back in the woods. He heard other shots on both sides, as well as hand-to-hand fighting in the vehicles.
"Back up!" Joshua screamed at the driver, but the man was slumped over the wheel, blood dripping onto the floor. Pulling the wounded man up out of the way, Joshua slid behind the wheel, but before he could shift the Humvee into reverse, he was knocked out onto the ground by a heavy blow to the back of his head.
He lay there unable to move. Gunfire and screams were around him, but after several minutes, these drifted off. Fighting to remain conscious, Joshua turned his head and saw large booted feet approaching him and then stop.
Conrad McKraven squatted in front of him and shook his head. "You should have given up. This is not going to end well for you, I'm afraid."
"We had a deal," Joshua rasped to Conrad.
"Seriously?" the gruff man asked. "You're trying to tell me you didn't see this coming? If not, you should have."
Joshua closed his mouth. The man was right. He should have seen it coming.
Chapter 9 - Secret Meeting
Deidra hated this. She knew she was in a tight spot, but there was no way out except to go along. Nathan Taylor had been right. If anyone found out about the stolen ration cards, she and her husband would get public whippings at least and possibly worse. The very idea of it made her shudder. She always followed the instructions given to her.
The meetings were typically in secluded, yet not isolated, locations within easy distance of where she worked or lived. They never met in the same place twice. She had learned to act casual, knowing the meetings were anything but.
Approaching the bench in a hidden part of the park, she looked around but didn't see anyone. He would always let her arrive first, watching to ensure she wasn't followed. If she was, he wouldn't meet her and she knew to go to a designated backup location at an alternate time. So far, they hadn't had to go to those extremes. She sat in the increasingly cool fall shade and waited.
After about five minutes, Nathan Taylor was beside her, as if he had emerged from thin air. She guessed she should feel honored. The great man himself chose to meet with her instead of one of her underlings, but she recognized his meeting her likely had more to do with the sensitive nature of their discussions than with her.
"Good afternoon," he said, sitting beside her. "Did you have any trouble getting here?"
"No, everything was fine," she answered.
"Do you know where to meet in case we are interrupted?" he asked.
"Yes, yes, yes," she said. "I know it all. You don't have to go over it every time. If we are interrupted, I go to the alternate location one hour from now. If intercepted or questioned, I say I was feeding the birds." She tossed a giant handful of birdseed from the bag on her lap in a huge angry sweep.
Nathan sighed. "Look, I know this is difficult for you, but everything..." He indicated the park with one hand. "All of this is for your protection. Don't you understand that? The information you provide is critical, but I have to look out for you."
"Do you know what would happen to me if they knew I was talking to you?" she asked near tears. "I could lose my job!"
"I think you could lose more than that, dear," said Nathan. "Which is why it is very important you always do as I say. Can you agree to that?"
She pouted. "Yes."
"Okay," he said, looking around carefully. "Tell me what happened."
Several pigeons had approached them to peck at the seed she had scattered. Their presence seemed to calm the secretary. "I got a call from the WTR protocol office. They said they needed to talk to the president."
"What did you tell him?" Nathan asked.
"I told him to wait just a minute," Deidra answered. "President Campbell has made it plain that any call from the WTR protocol office should be routed immediately."
"Any other instructions like that from other WTR callers?"
"No," she answered. "As a matter of fact, he typically wants me to take a message so he can call someone back, even if he does so in a few minutes. The WTR protocol office is the only number that he allows to be routed through."
"And did you listen in on the call like I told you to?"
She sighed and looked away.
"Deidra," Nathan said, his v
oice slightly sterner.
"I did," she said. "The man told the president that the planned conference in the WTR had been moved up to the next day."
"Is that out of the ordinary?"
She nodded. "First time I've ever heard of it. The original conference is a month from now."
"And how often does the president travel to the WTR?"
Deidra thought. "At least once a month for the official visits, but I think he might go more often."
"Why is that?"
She shrugged. "Nothing for sure, but he has lots of unexplained absences, and whenever I check the vehicle, it has more miles on it than it should. Also, he takes the same guard with him when he travels to the WTR. Whenever the president and that particular guard are gone, I figure it's to Tennessee."
"Okay, we'll come back to the guard in minute," he said. "Tell me about the conversation."
"The caller said the meeting had been moved up, and the president asked if that was necessary."
"If it were necessary?" Nathan asked.
"Yes," she said. "Those were his exact words. The protocol guy said that it was and told him they would be expecting him the next day by noon."
"Did he say why the meeting was moved up?"
"No," she answered. "And the president didn't even ask, which I found strange. He's typically so busy that it's like pulling teeth to get him to change anything on his schedule, but he did it without a question."
Nathan thought for a moment. "You said the president is married but has no children."
"No," she answered. "It's very sad actually. He looked like such a nice boy."
"Who looked like a nice boy?" Nathan asked.
"His son," she answered patiently. "There's a picture on the president's desk with him, his wife, and son."
"You just said he doesn't have any children."
She frowned. "He has no living children. His son was attending the University of Memphis when the bombs fell. Poor boy didn't make it."
Nathan's face remained impassive, but his heart was beating a little faster. Could it be possible? he wondered.
