The Shelter: WAR

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The Shelter: WAR Page 4

by Ira Tabankin


  “Captain, you’re going to have to ask Jay yourself. I don’t know what he’s doing with his shelter. I’m telling you the truth.”

  “I’ll take you at your word. If you need something, ask the men outside the doors. I’ll return as soon as I can. If I decide against you, I give you my word, you’ll be free to go.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter 3

  Admiral Jefferson sits in his day cabin preparing for the secure video call with the captains under his command. His aide informs him the captains are assembled and waiting for him.

  “Admiral, everyone has checked their connection, all are secure. They’re waiting for you. The cameras are set up in the wardroom.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be right there.”

  Admiral Jefferson checks his reflection in his room’s mirror, he’s wearing his dress uniform with all of his medals and awards. He stands and slides his sword into the scabbard. He opens his cabin’s door, two Marines, dressed in pressed combat uniforms, wearing armored vests and carrying loaded M4s escort him to the wardroom. Everyone stands when he enters. The images on the wall of monitors show the ship’s captains, also dressed in their dress uniforms. They stand as the Admiral takes his seat.

  “Be seated.”

  The captains sit. They look directly into the cameras in front of them. They wait for the Admiral to speak.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the reason I asked for this meeting is to discuss our mission and the rumors of another Confederacy. I’ll tell you what I know, then we'll go around the table to discuss our orders. I’ve sent all of you a copy of my orders which came directly from the NCA. I think it’s time we openly discuss them. I know this is very unusual. I’m not used to offering up my orders for debate. However, we’re entering a very unusual time. Does anyone have anything they want to say before we dive into the details?”

  Captain James Lewis, the Captain of DDG 53, the John Paul Jones raises his hand. “Admiral, I have something I’d like to say.”

  “Captain, the floor is yours. I ask that everyone respect the speaker and allow them to finish before starting your comments.”

  “Admiral, fellow captains, the namesake of my ship, once said of his senior officers, “Their object was gain, not honor.” It’s the same today. Honor is a forgotten word in politics. Our orders are based on gain and not honor. I for one will not fire on Americans. If I have to fight my ship against those who would fire on civilians, then my answer is the same as my ship’s namesake, “I have not yet begun to fight.” Sir.”

  He sits as his fellow officers begin knocking their Academy rings on their tables. Admiral Jefferson holds his hand up to quiet the room. Looking at the images on his monitors, “Captains, I’ll remind you, my orders are to lead the Task Force into the Gulf, once there we’re to establish a naval blockade of every port in the Gulf. We all know a naval blockade is an act of war. An act of war against our own people. Blockading the ports will bring commerce to a halt in a third of the country. Since the Mississippi begins in the Gulf, we’re ordered to also block all transport on the river. We’re to prepare to destroy our own bases if they don’t swear allegiance to the President. I, we, swore an oath to defend the Constitution, not an oath to the President. This isn’t the German Kriegsmarine, who swore allegiance to Adolf Hitler. We swore to protect the constitution, versus the Presidency, we do so to avoid the very situation we now find ourselves in. The floor is open, who else wishes to speak?”

  Captain Melissa Reynolds, the commanding officer of the USS Winston S. Churchill (DDG-81), replies, “Admiral, my fellow commanding officers. I have to refuse to carry out those orders. Admiral, if you have to remove me from command, so be it. The Navy has a long history of acting with honor and doing the right thing. I won’t carry out what I consider to be an illegal order. If we assume the Southern states do decide to form a new Confederate States of America, is that so wrong? The country is already split, why not allow the split to take place in a nonviolent manner which in the end serves all of the people? If the people no longer have faith or trust in their government and they elect new representatives who, as quickly as they assume office, ignore the people who elected them, what other options are available to the people? Should they take up arms against their elected officials or should they vote with their feet? My father told me, if I ever took a job I couldn’t stand, I shouldn’t complain, I should vote with my feet. I believe the people are voting with their feet. They are unhappy and want actual, real change, not the Hope and Change this Administration rode into office promising. Sir, I for one will not use my ship to fight against the US citizens in the Gulf unless they take up arms and attack my ship first.”

  The captains knock their rings on the table.

  Commander, Richard Zephyr, the commanding officer of the USS Kidd (DDG 100) stands,

  “Admiral, Captains. I disagree. We have orders from our commander in chief. We all swore an oath to follow the orders of the officers appointed over us and our CIC. I don’t wish to be court-martialed for not following a direct order from the CIC. I think we not only should, but we must follow the orders he sent to the Admiral. We don’t have a legal foot to stand on. Each of us can be relieved for not following our orders. I worked damn hard to reach command, I don’t want to lose it.”

  Most of the commanding officers shake their head at the Commander. Admiral Jefferson looks up. He pauses a moment; he raises his hand to show he wants to speak.

  “Commander Zephyr, remember the defense you were just following orders did work at Nuremberg. I’d like to see a vote of hands of those who think we should support the orders.”

  Commander Zephyr asks, “Admiral, I think you would get a more honest answer if you called for a private vote.”

  “Agreed, I will expect each of you to send me by encrypted email one word, either yes, meaning you think we should follow the orders or no, we shouldn’t. I’ve never put my orders to a vote before. I’m not sure it’s ever been done in the US Navy before. I asked for your input due to the seriousness of the current situation. As commanding officer of the Task Force, I alone will decide, I value your input and I will let you know my decision and orders at 1800 hours. Good day.”

  Admiral Jefferson turns around and leaves the ward room. His commanding officers have surprised looks on their faces. His Marine escort walks with him to his cabin. He shakes his head wondering how much damage his meeting may have caused.

  @@@@@

  Tony fumbles for his phone to text the recall code to Frank. He prays he’s not too late. Remembering the last time, he and Jay had a conflict; Tony, withheld construction supplies, trying to convince Jay to purchase them from him. It left a rift in their relationship. Jay later forgave him and agreed to forget the slip. Tony’s not sure Jay will forgive him if Frank succeeds in killing the Captain. He tried to explain he was only trying to remove a potential enemy from the board. Before Tony can press send, he sees a he has an unread text from Frank. Tony closes his eyes praying Frank missed his chance.

  Tony presses the message icon on his iPhone, he sees a single word from Frank, the word is, ‘blue’ which means he wasn’t able to complete the mission at breakfast. Tony quickly sends the word ‘horse’ to Frank, telling him to stand down and return to the farm. A moment later Frank texts, ‘confirm, horse?’

  Tony sends, ‘confirm, horse, RTB.”

  ‘confirmed, RTB.’

  Tony sighs with relief. He walks back into the castle to tell Jay he stopped his agent from carrying out his mission. Jay smiles nodding.

  “Tony, it might have been a good plan if we knew the Captain was going to attack us. We don’t know if General Arthur was successful in convincing him to support the break, or, at least, agree not to fight other Americans.”

  “Jay, you’re now supporting the break?”

  “My friend, do I have a choice? I don’t want to be a target of both sides. If we don’t support the break, the rest of the Confederacy will think we’re spies and can’t be
trusted. The North won’t believe we’re not in the South’s pocket. I’ve decided if we don’t support the South, we’ll be in a lose-lose situation again. I’d rather fight one enemy, than two or more. What are your thoughts?”

  “I agree with you. I think the country has to break apart, its either now or later. Either way, the birth will be painful. I want to help make it as painless as possible.”

  “Then we have to plan what to do. The Governor arrives in a few hours. We should prepare for him and figure out what we’re prepared to offer and what we can live with. I assume he’s coming to inspect our shelter and if he likes it, he’s going to ask to use it for his office.”

  “I agree, that seems logical.”

  “I don’t mind him asking, I have a real problem with him taking it. Which is why we’ve got people working around the clock building the new shelter on the other side of the fields. I’ve spread the rumor across the street we’re expanding the existing shelter. I don’t want the Army or the Militia to know we’re building a new shelter. This time, we’re tunneling under the farm versus digging a hole and building the shelter in the hole like we did the first time. Most won’t know what we’re doing or where the new shelter will be located.”

  “I’m sure our two friends across the street know you're using a lot of their concrete. Do you think they’re buying the rumor we’re expanding our shelter?”

  “Both the General and Captain know everything about our existing shelter, neither will know about the new one. It’s important to keep its location secret. They’ll buy the rumor we’re expanding the current one, they’ve both seen how cramped we’ve been. When we agreed to support the local towns, the people who needed rooms in the shelter have swelled.”

  “I think you’re right, the new one is far enough away from the current, they’ll never figure out we’re building a new shelter. I don’t think they will figure out what we’re doing out there. It’s far from any of our homes and the lake.”

  Jay puts his coffee on the table. He leans close to Tony; he whispers one name; a name Jay swore he’d never speak again.

  “Ricky.”

  “SHIT! You’re right. The building is going on almost right under his feet. Do you think he has any idea?”

  “I hope not. He can’t be trusted to keep his mouth shut. He’d sell the information to anyone if he thought it would improve his life and it would enable him to get even with me. If we move him, he’ll smell a rat and figure something’s going on. It’s a miracle he hasn’t already commented about the ground shaking under his feet. We can’t trust him. I wish he would have given up and wandered off. I made it as hard on him as I could, hoping he would give up and leave. I made it easy for him to leave. But, no. He has to hang around and piss me off.”

  “Want me to run him off?”

  “No. With my luck, you’ll run him into the arms of someone very bad who he’ll lead back here. He’ll sell them everything he thinks has any value. He’d sell his soul if he could reach the devil.”

  “What are you going to do about him?”

  “I can’t kill him. I promised my daughter I wouldn’t. I’ve tried to run him off but he’s still here. I’m afraid if he stays he’ll feel we’re building something under his feet. He’s not dumb, he’ll figure it out and hold it over our heads. Who’s supposed to take his food to him today?”

  “Fred usually does it.”

  “Ask Fred to try to chat him up. Maybe he’ll ask Fred what’s going on which will tell us what he knows. If he knows something is up, or should I say, under him? We may then have to deal with him. Or, you’ll have to deal with him. Your external expert may yet come in handy.”

  Tony nods, “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Tony, don’t kill him yet.”

  “I like the word, yet.”

  “I’m sure you do. For now, just keep a sharp eye on him.”

  “Will do. What do you want to do about the Governor?”

  “I really don’t know, why don’t we ask the General, Fred and John, to join us.”

  Tony texts everyone Jay mentioned. He looks at the phone, “Everyone confirmed with the exception of the General.”

  “He can’t make it?”

  “He didn’t respond.”

  “That’s a first. Let’s go ahead without him, he can join and catch up whenever he’s available.”

  “They’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

  “Time for another mug of coffee. I was up most of the night.”

  @@@@@

  General Arthur and Major Walker wait in the conference room; they stare straight ahead without saying a word. The General warned Major Walker the Captain may leave them alone in the room while stepping outside to listen to their comments. Neither man moves for almost ninety minutes when Captain Black returns looking at the two unmoving men.

  “That’s a first.”

  General Arthur blinks, “Captain?”

  “I’ve never seen two men sit without moving for ninety minutes before.”

  “I’ve had practice sleeping with my eyes open. You’ve never had to sit through a two-hundred-page PowerPoint presentations in the Pentagon, which was to set the agenda for an upcoming meeting.”

  “I was saved from that torture. I claimed it was cruel and inhuman punishment. I decided to stay in the sandbox and be shot at. At least there I could shoot back at the people trying to kill me.”

  “There are many times I wish I could have shot back. I think they would have arrested me for murder. I thought if I could get a true jury of my peers, they would understand death by PowerPoint.”

  “Sir had you shot them during the presentation you would have been released, there’s an official defense for that. It’s covered under justifiable homicide.”

  Both men laugh. General Arthur replies, “I’ll remember that. If it doesn’t work to get me out of jail, I’m coming after you. I’ll make you defend me.”

  “Sir, I can run fast.”

  “Doesn’t mean shit, unless you can outrun 2,600fps.”

  “You win.”

  “Captain, now that we’ve shared our little jokes have you reached a decision?”

  “Yes, sir, I have.”

  Chapter 4

  Jay, Tony, John and Fred sit in the Castle’s conference room looking at each other. After an hour together, Jay’s frustrated with the lack of a decision or a consensus. He’s absent-mindedly tapping his fingers on the table. Everyone’s idea has been voted down by the others. The floor is littered with scraps of paper and balled up yellow pad pages covered in notes. The table is littered with torn up notes, two empty coffee pots and half empty coffee cups. Jay looks up at the wall clock shaking his head.

  “Guys, the Governor is due here in five hours. We need to have an agreed-upon position, one researched and ready in my pocket so I’m ready to negotiate with him. I asked you to join me so we could discuss various options, saying you don’t know what to do, doesn’t help. We need a decision we can all agree with, one everyone on the farm and surrounding areas will not only accept but embrace.”

  Fred shakes his head, he frowns looking at Jay,

  “Some of us didn’t vote for, nor do we like the Governor. Why should we want him here? He’s only going to make us a bigger target than we already are. Shit, we’ve already been attacked too many times. I’m looking forward to being a farmer again. I decided I don’t like being a soldier, I don’t like being shot. Twice was enough for me. Why in the world do we want to end up fighting the North? They’ve got bombers which can send us to see Saint Peter before we know we’re dead. I was looking forward to enjoying my senior years.”

  Tony smiles patting Fred on the back.

  “You wouldn’t know how to retire. You’ve had more fun since Jay showed up than you’ve had in your entire life. You love the excitement.”

  “Whoa, there Tony. I’m the one who got shot…”

  “I did too.”

  “You always led an exciting life, people kissed your ass wh
erever you went. I spent my life working the fields. I liked it. I liked growing food that fed hungry bellies. You were on the other side of the tracks, hell, you most likely got a payoff to lay the tracks.”

  “That was in the past. You want to be a farmer? What do you think we’re doing now? Look at the size of the farm. We’ve got over twelve hundred acres plowed. That’s much larger than you used to have.”

  “Twelve hundred acres of dust. It’s just what I always wanted. We’ve got more problems than we can handle, why would we want to add to it by having the Governor here? If he moves into the shelter, where the hell do we go when things turn to shit? And they will. I thought the shelter was for us, not some baby kissing politician. I’m against him coming here, so are many of the others. I vote for thanking him and telling him to go somewhere else.”

 

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