The 13: Fall

by ROBBIE CHEUVRONT

  “You guys go on ahead. I’ll find my way. Thanks.”

  Kitterick looked somberly at him. He grabbed him by the elbow and began to lead him away from the men. “Can I talk to you for a sec, sir?” he said.

  Keene followed him out of earshot of the rest of the men.

  “All right, Captain. I’m going to shoot you straight, here,” Kitterick said, barely above a whisper. “These guys are a bunch of scared kids. They all know who you are. Who am I kidding? Everyone who’s ever worn a uniform after you, knows who you are.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You can’t get to DC going that way. Your best bet is to jump in with us, head to Tennessee, and once you get there, you’ve got multiple choices as to how you get back to Washington. But right now, these men need you. They need to know that there’s hope on the horizon. You can give them that just by being in the truck with us.”

  “I already told you,” Keene said, “I can’t do that. You’re their commanding officer, now. Lead them.”

  Kitterick threw his hands up in the air. “Fine! Go ahead and turn your back on your country!” He turned to walk back to the truck.

  Keene was on him in a flash. He spun the young lieutenant around, picked him up by the collar of his uniform, and bounced him off the stop sign that stood there managing the cross street.

  “You let me tell you something,” Keene said. “I’ve sacrificed more for this country than you and any fifty of those men over there. You understand that?”

  The young Lieutenant swallowed hard. “Sir, there’s no doubt in any of our minds that you haven’t sacrificed for this country. But look around you.”

  Keene let go of the young officer.

  “These men just watched everything they know get destroyed by twenty Chinese aircraft. They’re scared. I’m not going to lie to you. I’m scared. But the reality is exactly what I told you. You’re not getting back to DC that way.” Again, he pointed at the road behind them. “You’re a soldier. And a leader. We’re still mostly a training wing of the Air Force. Very few of us have seen any real time, including me. We need leadership, sir. Even if it’s from someone who doesn’t want to be here.”

  Keene looked over the shoulder of the young lieutenant. The faces of the men before him told the whole story. They were scared. And lost. Without someone to issue basic orders and give them a game plan, these men were as useless as a bunch of sheep looking for a pasture to graze. “What’s your ETA to Fort Campbell?” he asked.

  A broad smile crossed the young officer’s face. “Twelve hours, sir, if we saddle up and move out now, provided we can find clear roads the whole way. We’ll need to stop for basic provisions at the first available place.”

  “How’s ammo?”

  “We’re a training base, mostly, sir,” Kitterick repeated. “So we had a lot of stuff on base. We took everything we could get our hands on. We should be okay, unless we come across something major.”

  Keene took his phone out and checked it. No service. Kitterick saw the phone and said, “Pretty much all communication has disintegrated over the last two hours. With all the cities being hit by the Chao Qis, the cell towers are gone. Sat-phones and two-ways are about all that work right now.”

  “You got one?” Keene asked.

  Kitterick turned the volume up on his radio pack on his belt and clicked the mic. “Paulson, bring me the sat-phone.”

  The door to one of the trucks opened, and another young man carrying a rucksack joined them. He pulled the phone out and handed it to Kitterick, who gave it to Keene.

  Keene punched in the number and waited.

  “It’s Keene.”

  “Where are you? Been trying to reach you for a half hour.”

  “Cell towers are down. No service. I’m on a sat-phone. I’ve run into a training division from the 81st in Biloxi. They’re headed to Fort Campbell.”

  “Good,” Jennings said. “Benning got hit hard. They had over a hundred thousand there on base. Most of them were families and civilians.”

  Keene clenched the phone in his hand and felt his jaw tighten. “How many survivors?”

  “We’re still waiting to get the final word, but it looks like quite a few. When Pensacola got hit, they were able to get an early warning out to Benning. They had enough time to get out. They took a lot of damage, but they were able to fight back. Looks like they took out half a dozen Chao Qis and kept the Chinese from sending in a ground attack.”

  “Well, at least it was something,” Keene said. “So where are you?”

  “We’re in the bunker. Walker has given me and Bob Sykes control over everything.”

  “What’s the situation?”

  “Sykes is trying to get our boys back here as quickly as he can. But it’s going to take awhile. We can get bodies back here in fifteen hours, but they have no support. It’s going to take at least a week to get everything over there mobilized and moving here. In the meantime, we need to just do our best and try to set up a front line and hold them off.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “The plan is to mobilize everything we’ve got and get them to the 101st in Fort Campbell. It’s the next biggest, active base we have, and the Chinese are probably going to hit it soon. If we can mobilize everyone there, we’re going to try and push back. Once we get word from Fort Benning, we’ll reassess. It’s our only chance for right now.”

  “That’s suicide. And you know it.”

  “It’s all we’ve got. The 101st is stacked with weapons. They have twenty-five thousand infantry on base and more on the way. Until our boys get back here with reinforcements, that’s the plan.

  “Effective immediately, you have been reinstated to active duty and field commissioned to general. Sykes and I are calling the shots from here, but you’re in charge out there. You do whatever you need to do. You got it?”

  “General! You can’t just make me a general! Whose idea was that?”

  “The Sec-Nav. That’s who.” Jennings said. “He’s giving you full command.”

  “And what does he expect me to do?” Keene said. “Just take out a couple hundred thousand Chinese foot soldiers?”

  “That would be nice. Listen, just get to the rally point and take command. The plan is to get word out to citizens for them to try and get east of the Appalachian Mountains any way they can. Like you said, the Chinese don’t want to destroy this country. They want to take it over. It’s not going to do them any good if they blow up the whole place. Right now they’re trying to shock and awe everyone into submission. The mountain range will give us a good natural blockade. The only way they’ll be able to get east of that will be to fly over or come through the passes. We can defend that. But before we do, we need to get as many Americans as we can on this side of it. By then, our boys will be back and we can take this fight back to them.”

  Keene knew he was right. It was the only option. And though he wasn’t excited about being thrust back into his old life, he would rather be in charge than taking orders from someone else.

  “This is nuts.”

  “I know. But it’s all we’ve got,” Jennings said. “Keep this sat-phone with you and stay close. If anything changes, I’ll let you know. Let me know when you get to Fort Campbell. Good luck and Godspeed.”

  Godspeed … Yeah right! Keene thought. He looked up to the sky and thought angrily, You and I are going to have a talk, real soon!

  “Who was that?” Kitterick asked when Keene threw the phone back to him.

  “Keep that thing close.” He pushed past him and went to the rented Taurus and grabbed his bag. He walked to the front of the convoy and jumped on the hood of the first vehicle. He cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted for everyone to gather round.

  He took a second to take in the scene. It had been over eight years since he had addressed a team of soldiers. “My name is Jon Keene, recently promoted to General Jon Keene.” Again, he thought about how ridiculous that sounded. “Some of you know who I am. That means absolutely squat!
This isn’t some nostalgic who’s who in the military hall of fame. As of now, I am your commanding officer. Anyone who doesn’t follow my orders to the T, I will personally shoot! Any questions?”

  A thundering “No, sir!” resounded.

  “Good! Then let’s move out! Absolutely no radio chatter, unless initiated by me. Got it?”

  Again, there was a resounding chorus. “Yes, sir!”

  “Good,” Keene said. Then, “Move out!”

  He grabbed Lieutenant Kitterick by the shirt collar again. “Just so we’re clear,” he said, “we don’t stop for anything, or anyone, unless I say so. Got it?”

  Kitterick nodded. “Yes, sir.” He smiled and said, “Thank you, General. Congratulations on the promotion.”

  “You can congratulate me if we make it to Fort Campbell alive,” Keene said.

  CHAPTER 64

  Taylor wasn’t much of a phone guru, but basically it all boiled down to microchips and Scriber Identity Modules—SIM cards. In other words, computer parts. And she knew computers better than anyone she’d ever encountered. And right now she was rebuilding her phone, so to speak, to make it satellite capable.

  With the Chinese blitzkrieg, all standard forms of communication in the United States were down. No Internet, no cell phones. Televisions were still working in some areas but only those that were satellite fed. And only those in homes that still had power. According to the World News Report, a European news program she had caught before taking off again, the Chinese had specifically targeted cell towers and power plants in their shock-and-awe campaign of air-to-surface missiles in all of the major cities west of the Appalachian Mountains. The response from around the world was mixed, she learned. Many countries were sympathetic, but—like the reaction to the onslaught of the Nazis in the early stages of WWII—most countries simply didn’t want to get involved. Others, who were outspoken with their disdain for America, celebrated that someone was finally taking the country down. Either way, the United States of America was on the precipice of being completely overthrown. It had all happened in a single day. And here she was on a plane headed for Dubai, trying to jury-rig her phone so she could make contact with Jennings.

  She dug through her bag and found the small clip she needed. She pulled the back of the phone off and got into the motherboard circuitry. She placed the clip where she needed it and powered on her computer. Within seconds she was connected to the satellite feed through her laptop. She looked at her phone, which now showed a full signal. She dialed the number.

  “This is Jennings.”

  “Director Jennings, it’s Taylor, sir.”

  “Kind of busy. You and Boz find Marianne yet?”

  “That’s what I’m calling about. But I wanted to see what’s going on back home, sir.”

  She could hear Jennings exhale a long, slow breath. “It’s not good. We’ve lost all major communications. We have no idea what the death toll is. There has been no attempt at communication from the Chinese. All we know right now is that they are methodically hitting the major cities and then dropping ground troops in behind the air raids. We estimate that there are already two hundred thousand of their infantry in country and probably more on the way.”

  “What about Jon? Have you heard from him?”

  “Jon is fine. He’s met up with an Air Force training wing from Biloxi. He’s going with them to Fort Campbell. That’s where our troops are rallying. From there we’re going to try and mount a defense.”

  “Wow,” she said.

  “Yeah, wow,” Jennings echoed. Then, “Marianne Levy. Any word?”

  “We think we’ve tracked her to Dubai. No extradition treaty, not that it matters that much right now. But it’s probably why she chose it. She can disappear, and even if we did find her, we can’t bring her back.”

  “Oh, I’ll bring her back,” Jennings said. “You let me worry about that. I want that woman here! You and Boz find her.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was saying before….”

  “What is it?” Jennings said, obviously impatient.

  “It’s just me going to Dubai.”

  “What do you mean, it’s just you?”

  “I’m flying solo here. Boz is headed to London.”

  “What in the world for?” Jennings said, his voice rising.

  “He said he has some friends there he thinks can help. He said he had to go, and he would be in touch with you as soon as he could.”

  “You have a way to contact him?”

  “No, sir. He’s got a standard phone based out of the United States. Same as every other American. Unless he gets access to a sat-phone, we’ve got no way of contacting him.”

  “Well,” Jennings said, “the good news is, from what I know about Boz, he is a very resourceful person. Who knows? Maybe he can muster up a miracle for us. I mean, he is a preacher, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You just do whatever you have to do to find Marianne Levy. You understand?”

  “I’m on it, sir.”

  “Oh, and Taylor?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Bill Preston says you’re not just a computer geek. He says you’re probably one of the best agents he has in the bureau.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I don’t have to tell you that an FBI agent entering the United Arab Emirates while the United States is under attack is probably not going to go well at customs.”

  “Already taken care of, sir.” She hesitated for a moment. “I’ve already hacked into the Customs and Security Exchange there in Dubai. I also brought along a couple different passports.” She let that hang there for a second. Then, “I won’t bother you with how I came into possession of those.”

  “I don’t frankly care. I’ve got six myself. I’d probably think less of you if you didn’t have a couple of your own.”

  “Right. Anyway, I shouldn’t have any problems entering the country. And as soon as my feet hit the ground—”

  “And when you do find her,” Jennings interrupted, “I expect you to secure her. And if you have to, you dig a deep, dark hole and throw her into it until I can get the two of you out of there. You understand me? I do not want her getting away.”

  “Understood.”

  She pulled the phone away as she heard the click, ending the call. She set it on the small table beside her and disconnected the little clip. Then she tilted the screen up to face her and began tapping away at the keys.

  “Okay, Marianne,” she said. “Where are you?”

  CHAPTER 65

  Do you have any idea the amount of strings I had to yank to pull this off?” the man said to Boz as he came aboard the small jet.

  “Nice to see you, too, Mac,” Boz smacked his friend on the back as they hugged. “I really appreciate this.”

  “No problem, mate,” the old Brit said. “I owe you.”

  “If you saved my butt twenty times between now and tomorrow, you’d still be saying that!” Boz laughed. “Let it go, already!”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Mac shook his head.

  It had been almost twenty years since they’d met. Mac was a former Royal Air Force pilot turned world-class spy for Her Majesty the Queen. MI-5, to be precise. At age forty-five and nearing retirement, his cover had been blown—and some very unpleasant people arranged for Mac’s family, a wife and a seventeen-year-old son, to be kidnapped and held for ransom. All of which was in retaliation for Mac’s involvement in bringing down a wealthy oil sheik with a propensity to deal in illegal arms and heroin. Because of the sensitivity of the mission, the location in Pakistan where the family was being held, and the low probability of success, Don Snyder, then CIA director and a great friend of the family, called in a twenty-seven-year-old Army Ranger whose team was already in the country. With very little time for planning and no true exit strategy, Boz and his men snuck into the village under the cover of night and took out the entire compound where the family was being held. They managed to retrieve the famil
y and not set off a single alarm anywhere within the city. Sixteen hours after the fist ransom demand had been made, Mac was reunited with his family. And to this day, he’d never forgotten it.

  “Tell you what,” Boz said as the plane took off. “You get me to London in half the time it’s supposed to take, I’ll consider us even. For real.”

  The smile faded from Mac’s face. “That’s a real spot your boys are in over there. Isn’t it? I’m sorry to see it.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “And those fools back home aren’t willing to lift a finger to help you. That right?”

  “That about sums it up,” Boz said. “I was hoping I could change some minds.”

  “You know you can’t change stupid!”

  Boz laughed at his friend’s candor. “I know. But I’ve got to try.”

  “Let me ask you something,” Mac said. “Are you going on behalf of your country as a diplomat? Or are you trying to actually get something accomplished?”

  Boz smiled. He knew what his old friend was asking. Was he actually going to try to change the minds of the English prime minister and his parliament? Or was he going to do something that could get himself, and whoever followed him, thrown into prison?

  “I’m trying to get something accomplished,” he said seriously.

  “Have you spoken to him yet?” Mac asked.

  “Not yet. I thought it’d be better just to show up and ask.”

  “You’re crazy, mate! You know that? Crazy!”

  Mac reached behind Boz’s seat and pulled out a small satchel. He unzipped it and pulled out a sat-phone and handed it to Boz. “Call him,” he said. “He’ll want to know you’re coming.”