Trackers Omnibus [Books 1-4]

by Smith, Nicholas Sansbury

  Or, at least, the soldiers should have been picking them off. Fenix looked around him to see his men waiting for the M240 to do all the work.

  “Fire!” Fenix shouted. “Everyone fucking fire!”

  He came up on one knee again to lead by example. The automatic gunfire returned from all directions. The noise rose into a din that made his head hurt, but it was still music to his ears.

  Fenix ejected another spent magazine, plucked one from his vest, and then continued firing. The overhang on the porch crashed to the ground, and a gutter fell away from the building. Hunks of broken stone pummeled the dirt and flowerbeds around the house.

  A final muzzle flash came from the third-floor window. The man was a brave bastard, but stupid. Fenix aimed his rifle at the last guard—along with every other SOL soldier.

  Hundreds of bullets hit the window all at once, shattering the frame and breaking away the brick exterior. The man toppled out, crashing to the porch below.

  “Hold your fire!” someone yelled. It took another shouted order before the gunfire finally ceased.

  Fenix watched the house for movement, moving his barrel across the façade and broken windows.

  “That looks like all of ’em,” called a hoarse voice.

  “Bring me Hacker,” Fenix replied. It took a few minutes, but Horton finally brought the man across the battlefield.

  “Twelve to fifteen guards, my ass,” Fenix said.

  Hacker didn’t reply, and Fenix scrutinized him in the dim light. From the look of it, he was shivering. Fenix wasn’t sure if it was from fear or the cold. If it wasn’t the latter, then he had grossly underestimated the man. He scanned Hacker again, raised a nostril, and then handed the radio to him.

  “Tell your boss to get out here,” Fenix said, spitting in the dirt.

  Hacker relayed the message as the SOL soldiers moved in. Fenix counted twenty soldiers, bringing their losses to just four from the fire-teams.

  Not bad at all.

  The men stopped beyond the porch, their rifles aimed at the front door. It creaked open a few minutes later, and a man wearing a suit stepped out holding a hat with a red feather. He put it on his head, and then gripped his shoulder.

  He thinks I’m going to take him prisoner. That’s why he threw on his suit and hat, Fenix thought.

  “You got me, General!” Redford shouted. “You won.”

  Fenix left his position and slowly walked over, cautious but confident.

  “Where’s my cousin?” Redford asked, looking at Hacker.

  Fenix stopped at the bottom of the steps. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag containing Theo’s eyeballs, which he then tossed onto the porch.

  “This is what’s left of him,” Fenix said with a half shrug.

  Redford looked down at the package, and then back at Fenix, his jaw clenched with rage.

  “You really thought you could win this?” Fenix asked dryly. “You really thought you could beat the Sons of Liberty?”

  He didn’t wait for Redford to reply, and gestured for Hacker. The man moved forward and stood at the bottom of the steps. Redford’s eyes widened in confusion before realization set in.

  Fenix drew the .357 Magnum he’d taken from Theo and handed it to Hacker.

  “Show me you really want to work for the Sons of Liberty, and finish this,” Fenix said. Then he turned and walked away. Three beats later, a gunshot cracked behind him.

  A smile broke across Fenix’s face at the sound of Redford’s body hitting the porch. Fenix stopped and walked back to the porch, realizing he had forgotten part of what he’d come to collect.

  Walking up the stairs, he then bent down next to Redford’s corpse and plucked the hat off his head. Blood splatter had soiled the rim and he wiped it on the front of Redford’s fancy suit.

  Fenix stood and placed the hat on, smiling at his men. “What do you boys think?”

  “I think the Sons of Liberty are back in business, sir,” Horton said.

  “Damn straight,” Fenix said with a dip of his new souvenir.

  ***

  Four days had passed since Charlize returned from Fort Lauderdale. Albert was already making gains in his recovery, and Dave and Ty had taken a real liking to one another. The restoration efforts were moving full steam ahead, with their NATO allies and the Chinese moving up the coasts and inland. Every day seemed to bring another new disaster. One of them was being reported by Captain Harris over the satellite phone.

  “Yesterday, a Chinese supply convoy was hit by raiders on a road just west of Jacksonville,” he said. “Two Chinese soldiers and a worker were killed. The American forces pushed the raiders back, and the Chinese showed remarkable restraint.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Charlize replied.

  “Yes, but I’m not sure how much longer that will last. This is the second attack I’ve seen since the landing, and there are rumors about other attacks.”

  “I’m well aware,” Charlize said. “So far we haven’t had any reports of Chinese soldiers firing on civilians, but I’m guessing that will change soon.”

  “I hope not, but I agree that it’s only a matter of time, ma’am. On another note, I’ve been assigned a liaison that reports directly to General Lin. I’m hoping to get more intel from him, but so far he’s been pretty tight-lipped about things.”

  “Keep working,” she said. “Is there anything else to report?”

  “Yes, ma’am. As I’m sure you’re aware, a Chinese container ship and an American ship collided in the harbor in New York. The Chinese vessel sank with over ten thousand pounds of medical supplies on board.”

  “I’ve seen the report,” she said dryly. “These are the types of mistakes that costs lives, Captain. We can’t afford for things like this to happen.”

  “I know, especially with the news coming out of SC 115 in New Jersey…”

  “What news?”

  “Cholera. There are several reported cases.”

  Charlize cursed under her breath. She would need to give that information to Ellen Price shortly, assuming the Secretary of Health and Human Services didn’t already know. It was entirely possible she didn’t, though, considering how convoluted the communication network was.

  “Is there anything else, Captain?” she asked.

  “Negative, ma’am.”

  “Keep up the good work, and stay safe.”

  “Will do, and you too.”

  She hung up the line, returned the phone, and walked back to the conference room for yet another briefing. Inside sat Lundy, Vice President Walter, Price, and General Thor, along with National Security Advisor Duane Ibsen. It looked like President Diego was still running late.

  Charlize took her seat next to Price, and looked over to Colonel Raymond, who was standing in front of one of ten maps on moveable stands.

  “Sorry about that,” Charlize said. “I had to take that call.”

  “No problem,” Raymond said. “As I was saying, in region 1 we are making great strides.” He pointed at the orange block of the United States, representing Florida, Georgia, Alabama, and South Carolina. “Most of northern Florida past Orlando should have power restored by this time next month, if all goes to plan. But region 2 won’t be so fortunate.”

  He moved over to the next board, with a map of North Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky, Virginia, West Virginia, and Maryland.

  “The ground burst in Washington, D.C. has caused devastation that we simply aren’t prepared to deal with. Between hundreds of miles of destroyed power lines, radiation contamination, and the surge from the EMP, we’ve got an environmental disaster that will take decades to remedy. And unfortunately, we don’t have a solution right now.”

  “I thought we did have a solution,” said Walter.

  Charlize looked at the vice president. He was still new to the job, but so was Charlize. Thus far, she wasn’t too impressed with the former Fortune 500 executive.

  “There’s no solution to the environmental disaster, sir
,” Raymond said.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Walter said, heaving a sigh. He stood and made his way over to the maps. He pulled at his cufflinks before picking up the pointer. Then he traced a circle with the tip around D.C. on the region 2 map.

  “This approximate area is to be fenced off and secured for the indefinite future. Signage will be posted warning of the radiation poisoning. All recovery missions will cease. Anyone inside the zone is on their own now.”

  “We didn’t agree to that last part,” Charlize said. “I was told recovery missions would continue.”

  President Diego walked into the room and shut the door behind him. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. When no one responded, he ran his fingers through his thick black hair, a nervous tick. “Okay, what did I miss?”

  “We’re talking about the radiation zone,” Charlize said. “Vice President Walter—”

  “I just told them we’re blocking the area off and canceling recovery missions,” Walter said, cutting Charlize off.

  Diego looked to his second in command and then over to Charlize, nodding at her in confirmation.

  “It’s a matter of logistics, Secretary Montgomery,” he said.

  Charlize knew from experience that he only used her title when he knew she would be pissed. And she was really pissed. Albert had already accepted that his family was likely dead, but how was she supposed to tell him that the government was ceasing all recovery efforts? There had to be other people out there hunkered down and waiting for help.

  “Listen, I know how it sounds, but we have to focus on the people we can still save. With that said, I will authorize missions on a case-by-case basis,” Diego said.

  It was something, but Charlize was still pretty disappointed in the president.

  “Shall we continue?” Walter said, handing the pointer back to Raymond.

  “By all means, sir,” Charlize said.

  Raymond waited for Diego and Walter to take seats, and then continued the briefing. They went through the other ten regions, one by one, going over estimated delivery dates for the grid restoration. Some would take months, but many would be much longer than that depending on resistance, weather, and violence.

  “These are just estimates,” Lundy cut in. “The variables Colonel Raymond just mentioned could lead to…issues beyond our control.”

  “But most of the country will have their lights back in a year,” Raymond said.

  “How does this change our casualty rate estimates?” Diego asked.

  Lundy pulled out a piece of paper from his folder and placed it neatly in front of him. He was a numbers guy, just like the president, which is probably why Diego liked him so much.

  “Sir, we estimated about thirty percent of our population would perish in the first month after the blast. That estimate was a bit high, but from the data I’ve seen coming in from the SCs, it’s likely where we are headed. However, if we can continue moving supplies and restoring power, we should be able to bring down the final death count considerably.”

  “If we can evacuate areas without power into areas with power,” Walter said. “That’s key.”

  “Good,” Diego said. He grabbed his bottled water with his scarred hand and took a drink. “I’ve been in constant contact with the Chinese president, and he has promised they will continue supplying LPTs, equipment, workers, et cetera, until the job is done.”

  He looked to Charlize. “Do you have anything to add about the current recovery efforts?”

  “Yes, Mr. President.” She stood to address the room. “First off, SC 115 in New Jersey has reported several cases of cholera.”

  “I’m aware, but I was only informed of that fact a few hours ago,” said Price. She didn’t ask where Charlize got the information, and Charlize didn’t volunteer it.

  “The recovery efforts with the Chinese are going well for the most part, but another convoy was attacked yesterday,” Charlize said. “What I’m told is that the Chinese soldiers did not return fire despite two of their soldiers and one worker being killed.”

  “General Lin isn’t happy about it, but he also understands this sort of thing is inevitable, especially as we cross into zones where people have had no contact with the government for the past month,” Diego said. “When they see Chinese troops, they panic and think we are being invaded.”

  “Which is why I’m suggesting another air drop of pamphlets explaining what is going on,” Charlize said. “The SCs should also be broadcasting this information.”

  “Make sure it happens,” Diego said.

  “There’s also been a collision in the New York harbor,” Charlize added. “We lost an entire shipment of medical supplies. It’s a huge setback.”

  “We’re dealing with that,” Diego said. He took another drink. “Is there anything else?”

  Charlize shook her head. “No sir, that’s all I have for now.”

  “I do have one more item.” Diego twisted in his chair and pointed to region 1. “Since we were on this topic earlier, I thought I would let you know I’m actively seeking a new home for the White House now that we’ve officially decided to seal off D.C.”

  He turned back to Charlize.

  “And since you are fond of road trips, I’d like you to scout out a few locations for me over the next few weeks. Right now, New York City is looking like one of the most promising places,” he said. “Perhaps Officer Randall will be able to accompany you?”

  She gave the president a curt nod, but inside she was seething. He wanted her to go check out new locations for the White House when the country was bursting at the seams and barreling toward winter?

  “Good, it’s settled then,” Diego said. “You’ll head to New York as soon as your schedule allows to find me a home for the White House.”

  Charlize flipped her folder shut and stood. “Yes, sir.”

  — 10 —

  Almost a week had passed since Colton had returned from Fort Collins. The chief had warned Raven and everyone else in Estes Park to prepare for war, but the retaliation for Sheriff Thompson’s death hadn’t come. Fenix, Redford, and their other enemies hadn’t shown up either.

  Not yet, anyway.

  Instead, a traveler named Robbie Cotter from southern Colorado had shown up at one of the roadblocks in Estes Park with other news—news about Nile Redford.

  The report had rocked Raven to his core, and he’d raced to the station to talk to the man. Colton was already busy with his own questions.

  Raven waited with his back to the wall, arms folded across his chest, trying to get a read on Robbie. The fifty-year-old man sat at a table facing Colton, his baldhead dipped low as he stroked his gray beard. He smelled like a mixture of body odor and grease, which told Raven he wasn’t lying when he said he was a mechanic.

  “So that’s why you came here?” Colton asked. “For work?”

  “Heard you guys were offering protection and food to people with skills like mine. I’ve worked on cars since I was old enough to hold a wrench.”

  “Okay, but explain to me why you name-dropped Nile Redford at our roadblock,” Raven chimed in.

  Robbie looked over. “’Cause I used to work on his cars, man, and he came back to Granby a few weeks ago bragging about how he stole a shit-ton of supplies from Estes Park. I figured you guys might want to know where those supplies are now.”

  Raven and Colton exchanged a quick glance.

  “So you worked for Redford. Why did you leave?” Colton asked.

  “I don’t like dealing with Nazis.”

  “What?” Colton asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

  “Mr. Redford’s teamed up with some Nazis. I left as soon as I heard the news. Started walking north to find a new place to work, and a few refugees told me about Estes Park. I remembered the town from things I overheard Redford talking to his men about, including the raid of your stockpile.”

  “Wait, back up,” Colton said. “Tell me more about the Nazis.”

  Robbie shrugge
d. “Nazis, man. That’s all I heard.”

  “Was one of them called General Fenix?” Raven asked.

  Robbie shifted his gaze away from Colton to Raven.

  “Phoenix?” Robbie said. “Like, Arizona?”

  “Just answer the question,” Colton replied.

  “Never heard of nobody called that. All I know is that Redford had captured some Nazis and then teamed up with the bastards, and that didn’t sit real well with me.” He reached into a pocket on his overalls and fished out a rolled-up smoke.

  “You mind?” he asked.

  Colton shook his head. Robbie lit the homemade cigarette with a match and took in a puff.

  “So you got a job for me here or not?” he asked, exhaling through his nose.

  “If your story adds up, maybe,” Colton said. He gestured for Raven to meet him in the hallway. Raven already knew what the chief was going to say, but he would have volunteered for the mission anyway.

  “Let me scope it out, see if Redford is there with any SOL soldiers,” Raven said. “If they are, then two birds, one stone. Right, Chief?”

  Colton brought a hand up to touch his swollen right eyelid. It had opened partially, but his face was still the color of ripe fruit.

  “Look, I know we want those supplies from Fort Collins, but Redford’s got our stuff, too. It might make more sense to try and raid his compound than to hit Fort Collins.”

  “I agree,” Colton said, to Raven’s surprise. “Take Dale with you.”

  Raven perked up. “You serious?”

  “Yeah. Take Dale and go tonight.” Colton held out his hand and gripped Raven’s arm, hard. “You see Redford or any Sons of Liberty, you don’t kill them, you got it? You’re only going on a recon mission to check this lead out. No violence. I need you and Dale alive.”

  Raven wasn’t sure he could hold up his end of the deal. “I mean, if I see a Nazi, I’m not sure I can help pulling the trigger.”

  “Promise me, or I won’t authorize this mission,” Colton said.

  “Fine. Now, will you let go of my sleeve? It’s getting wrinkled.”

  Colton smiled, or tried to, but his bruised face merely seemed to distort. Raven returned the smile and jogged out of the station.