The Tsunami

by Marshall Miller

  Adam gave a small smile. “I guess it will have to be. But I will hold you to the promise of at least seeing me and mine to safety. Deal?”

  Heidi grinned. “Deal. Now, as soon as the Chief gets back, we can leave. I’m driving.”

  “Oh, bossy now, are we?”

  “You guys have been throwing back I don’t know how many drinks. I know how much I have had, being an ex-bartender. I drive.”

  Adam threw her a salute. “Yes Ma’am.”

  “That’s what I like, Boss. A man who listens to reason.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Just when humankind seemed to have demonstrated the lowest level of depravity and evil toward other Humans, Tschaaa biological, technological and genetic advancements enabled Krakens and others to sink to even lower depths of obscene and monstrous behavior.

  -Excerpts from the Writings of Princess Akiko, Free Japan Royal Family

  MALMSTROM ARMED FORCES BASE

  GREAT FALLS, MONTANA

  Four o’clock in the morning, and Torbin was awake again, sitting in their living room. It had been four days since Aleks had narrowly escaped death with the Eaters, thanks to Fuzz, the “Big Beastie” as she called him. Since then, every morning, Torbin woke up from the same dream. He was trying to reach Aleks as a shadowy Eater was coming at her, with his response at slow speed, the dream world having a molasses effect on his movements. Even more in the shadows were two human shapes, who laughed at his and Aleks’ predicament. Then, he would jerk awake.

  Torbin knew his dream was based on the comments of Commissioner Miller. Try as hard as he could, Torbin knew that he could not find any flaws to the argument that some humans had tried to murder his wife. The thought that they could slip away, not be punished, sent him into a seething rage. Which did not help his dreams, and thus his sleep.

  He sensed his wife’s presence before she spoke, then gently caressed his neck. “Cannot sleep, my husband? Bad dreams?”

  He took her hand from his neck, kissed it. “Can’t help it. I almost lost you. I was not here to help, would be a widower if not for Fuzz.”

  Aleks maneuvered her extremely pregnant stomach around so that she could sit on his lap. “Oof. Sorry I am such a huge pig. But I miss sitting on your lap, snuggling, as you Americans call it.”

  “Aleks, dearest, you are the lightest weight of all the burdens I carry. You can sit on me anytime you want. I love you.”

  Aleks kissed him, then whispered sweet nothings into his ear in Russian and Ukrainian. Torbin had come to understand them as statements about how much she loved him. No matter if he could understand everything she said. He could feel her love.

  “Come, husband. Back to bed. Worrying about what could have been will just age you early. I want to keep you around for very long time. I don’t give my heart to just anyone.”

  Torbin sighed. “I wish I had some of your Russian fatalism, acceptance. I just can’t stand the thought that some assholes tried to kill you, and so far have gotten away with it.”

  Aleks kissed his cheek. “Patience, my husband. Remember, you were the spider, I was a fly. Good things eventually come to those who wait. I promise there will be a day of vengeance. We Russians are good at that. And my Ukrainian relatives were pretty good at it also.”

  A few hours later, he and Abigail were at the large sports complex on base with a new group of trainees. These were a fresh batch of basic NCO’s, people with prior military experience that were now training to be First Line Supervisors, the backbone of any military organization. Many were older than Abigail, closer to Torbin’s age. And she worked their asses into the dirt. Hill climbers, burpees, jumping jacks, push ups to be followed with some unarmed grappling. Later in the week, Ichiro would come and show them some of his techniques, some basic swordplay. The Armed forces were still working on an updated codified training system for all their personnel. Fighting aliens was not the same as fighting fellow humans, although they knew they would also have to fight those.

  Torbin smiled to himself. He loved to watch Abigail work. First, she showed her enjoyment at the physicality of the training. At the same time, she made most of it look effortless. For her, it probably was. Yet, she knew when to stop, or not to push individual soldiers beyond their actual limits. Very rarely did she have to show any “D.I. anger” in the traditional sense. Usually, her presence seemed to make people feel a need to shine, not to disappoint her. On the rare occasion that someone took her demeanor as being weak, the person was quickly disbursed of that belief. One such individual wound up unconscious in the medical clinic. After that, smart people knew not to test her.

  Torbin happened to glance around and saw a familiar figure approaching. Lt. Todd Baker, the one who had helped save Torbin’s ass in Wyoming, came at a fast walk across the training field toward them. Torbin started to smile and call out some light greeting when he saw the serious look, almost a frown, on the young man’s face. Now, what could be troubling the Lieutenant? Torbin had it on good authority that a local young lady who worked at the Base Exchange had taken a definite liking to him. And he had returned the feelings. This had helped disburse him of the crush he had on Abigail, something she could not return in kind. One very rough fact of the new order of things was that most people had lost large portions of their families. Some people, like Torbin, had lost them all. Thus, sometimes people latched on to each other just to have a sense of “family” of caring for and being cared for by another human being. Of course, this led to people mistaking pure loneliness for love, resulting in some unhealthy codependent relationships. Hopefully, this was not the case with to Todd Baker. Thanks in a large part to him, Torbin was still kicking, as opposed to having been turned into Eater excrement.

  “Lieutenant Baker. How are you this fine day?”

  Lieutenant Baker saluted Torbin, still with the serious look on his face.

  “Sir, sorry to bother you. But could I have a moment of your time…alone?”

  Torbin could tell that Todd Baker had a heavy weight on his shoulders.

  “No bother,” Torbin replied. “Hell, you’ve helped us train before. You know we can take breaks to handle important matters. I can tell by the look on your face that something is important, and it is the proverbial burr under your saddle.”

  The young Lieutenant blushed a bit. “That obvious, is it?”

  “Come on, Todd, let’s take a walk.” Torbin turned and called out to Abigail.

  “Captain Young, please excuse me for just a minute. I need to talk with the good Lieutenant here.”

  Abigail had looked up from her task of having the trainees complete their third set of sit-ups, having just finished another set of hill climbers.

  “Of course, Sir. I have it under control.” She flashed a quick smile at Todd, then returned to the task at hand. “All right, everyone up. On their feet. Time for another trip around the track.”

  When Abigail heard some grumbling, she was quick to respond. “I did not just hear some negative sounds, did I?”

  “Ma’am. No Ma’am.” The two dozen NCOs in training called out in unison. They had developed a respect tinged with fear of this young but very tough and experienced warrior. Everyone knew her as the Avenging Angel, her position in Deseret becoming her persona in the U.S.A. Behind her back, some people said she was an arch or even fallen angel, here to demand retribution of all who sought to harm her and her people. And Malmstrom personnel now included her people.

  “Good. Because what do we say to negativity?”

  The trainees responded in unison. “No negative waves. Never with the negative waves, Moriarty.” A line from a classic sarcastic war movie, spoken in jest one day, had been taken in and modified by Abigail into a mantra. “Negative waves” were not allowed around Abigail Young’s training area. And one had better not forget that.

  Torbin chuckled as he and Todd Baker walked away, toward the far end of the sports arena.

  “So shoot, Lieutenant. What’s on your mind?”

  �
�Major, I know who tried to use those Eaters to kill your wife. I know, because one of them is a family member.”

  Torbin felt both a chill and a feeling of rage, almost at the same moment. It seemed impossible, but Torbin felt both conflicting feelings almost simultaneously.

  “Start Explaining. Lieutenant. And it had better be good.”

  The Lieutenant swallowed, then spoke. “Jack Baker, the one who gave Captain Young grief at the vet clinic, he is my older brother. He would never be called a ‘good guy’, by any means. But he is eight years my senior, and his nastiness helped keep my sister Pat and I, alive, after everyone else in our family were either killed or disappeared. We barely made it here from Arizona.”

  Torbin knew that Todd’s parents had both worked at Luke Air Force Base outside of Phoenix. Both were active duty Air Force. The mother had been a fighter pilot, the father an engineering officer. Neither had made it out alive, thanks to roving Deltas and Falcons targeting all the active air bases.

  The trip to Montana, like it was for most survivors, had not been easy. The Long Winter had also not helped.

  Lieutenant Baker continued. “My brother fell in with the scavengers. His history of working both sides of the law since he was a teenager meant he fit right in. Scrounging, and maybe a little stealing is one thing. What he is doing now is something else.”

  Torbin stopped and faced the young man. “You need to spit it out. What exactly is he involved with?”

  “Major, please believe me that at first I thought it was the drugs and booze talking. This last year, he has gotten into using any type of dope he can get his hands on. He has had plenty of money and gold to buy what he wants, because of what he is doing.”

  Torbin was getting impatient. “Look it, pardon me if I seem to be in a hurry, but since it was my wife they tried to kill, what did he do?”

  Baker drew a deep breath before continuing. “He and a bunch of others set up a dog fighting ring. But, I have just found out it isn’t only just dogs they are using. They use, breed… other things. To fight in their pits. Gamblers pay good money to bet, to watch. I know they have Eaters. Jack was so drunk and stoned the other night at the house, he said they had other things to fight. He laughed when I got mad, demanded he tell him. For the first time in my life, I beat the shit out of him.” Baker stopped. “He pulled a gun, threatened to shoot Pat and me if I got in his way. Then he left.”

  Todd Baker was beginning to shake a bit. “He is my brother. He saved Pat and me. That got me the chance to join the military, pay back the fricking Squids. I owe him.”

  Torbin reached out and put his hand on his shoulder. “Todd, I know what it is like to have a brother. And to lose him. I hate to be mean about this but… I think your brother, the one who saved you, is gone. The being occupying his body is not the same brother.”

  Todd wiped a tear from his eye. “I know. Major. I am on my way to the Military Police, then the General’s office. I’ll tell my story, so they can stop him. Then, to the General, to…resign my commission.”

  “What? Like fucking hell you are! You saved my ass, now you want to quit on me? Over my dead body.”

  “Major, you don’t understand. I purposefully ignored all the signs. I kept hoping something would happen, that he would go back to being the old Jack. He was not a saint, but he was not this… thing he has become. My inaction nearly got your wife killed. I’m not fit to command.”

  Torbin stood ramrod straight. “Lt. Baker. Near misses only count in horseshoes and hand grenades. And nukes. You will not beat yourself up over this. That’s an order. Do you understand me?”

  The young officer snapped to attention. “Yes Sir.” He respected Torbin too much to disagree.

  “Now, young man, we will go to the General together. I will not allow you to do something stupid like resign. We need all the fighters we can get. And, you have proven you are a fighter. On the way over, you can tell me where all these assholes your brother works with hang out.”

  Torbin asked Abigail to finish up for him as he and Lt. Baker had to go see the General ASAP. She did not ask any questions, as she knew that Torbin would not skip out on training unless it was very important. Abigail could tell that Todd Baker was upset, and she was worried, and sad. He was such a nice young man, who had at one time a major crush on her. But, as nice as he was, he did nothing for her in the subject of male/female attraction. Now Ichiro….

  She snapped back to the task at hand. She had two dozen very sweaty, mostly winded NCOs in front of her. She decided that a change in the schedule was called for, given as it was now just her doing the training.

  “All right, at… rest.” They all went relaxed, trying to regain their breath.

  “Let’s all sit down on the ground. We are going to do what I call a little ‘team building exercise’. Form a half circle, let’s get to know each other a bit better.”

  She waited until everyone was in place. She looked out at a group of soldiers, half with prior combat experience to various degrees, the other half not, other than trying to survive to get here. They were E-4s to E-6s, training limitations preventing the Armed Forces from breaking the groups down more that. With the need to keep as many people on the line right now, trying to secure the orders with the help of local militias, training staff was at a minimum. That could easily bite them in the ass if they suddenly began taking large numbers of casualties.

  The lack of a good training program for replacements would mean that the front line replacement troops would suddenly become cannon fodder due to poor training. Thus, Torbin and Abigail were trying to do everything possible to build a foundation for a Field Training system, where experienced NCOs and Junior Officers could provide newbies with some modicum of survival training as replacement troops hit the front line. A stop gap system, but until the Russians, Japanese, Canadian, and bits and pieces of personnel from other countries became completely integrated, it was the best they had.

  “Now,” Abigail began. “We are going to spend some time considering how we got here, what we expect each of us to do to defend the human race. Not just the U.S.A. The entire human race. Everyone has to be clear on that, what it means concerning what we, as soldiers, and supervisors, will have to do to survive. As well as keep our humanity, so we do not become Krakens.” Abigail spit that last word out.

  “Now, because I never ask anyone to do something I will not do, I’ll start. Over six years ago I was in Eastern Washington when Hanford blew…”

  Torbin had trouble sleeping that night. After taking Lt. Baker to see the General and the Military Police, Customs Enforcement and the Marshals service had also been notified. Torbin knew Commissioner Miller would be chomping at the bit to track these assholes down and grab them. Trying to kill people’s wives with BEMs, and the pit fighting, were not conducive to good order in U.S.A. society.

  Torbin did not have a bad dream about Eaters and Aleks as with other nights. He just was so jacked up with the thought of revenge on his terms, his mind was racing with possible plans. Lt. Baker had told him where his brother and the others were apparently conducting the pit fights, and other possible illegal activities. A quick query via a hacking connection into the Occupied States and Tschaaa internet, bigger than their own, and he had found a past Google Earth image of the location, thanks to the former U.S.A. government.

  Thanks to organized cyber hacking, not to mention a crap load of private hackers hooking up many a path into the poorly secured system, almost all the information recovered by Director Lloyd and his minions, plus input from the Squids, was available. The new internet and cloud was probably ninety-five percent of the pre-strike internet, including porn.

  The alleged location was a former huge horse stable with a training/show ring, located some five miles outside of Great Falls. Lt. Baker had said that when in his cups, his brother bragged there was a large root cellar and a wine cellar on the property. Both had been expanded and modified to hold a lot of “somethings”, the specifics of what was k
ept there his brother would never say. Todd Baker knew there were dogs. Beyond that, he couldn’t help.

  As surreptitiously as possible, Torbin had put his tactical gear together. He cleaned the .44 Magnum “Bear Gun” Madam President had given him. He loaded it with three rounds of the special armor piercing rounds that he had taken during the Key West raid for robocop suppression. The other three in the cylinder were now special hollow points he had gotten from his veteran friend Mike, of the t-shirt and variety shop at the BX.

  Thanks to some smart marketing skills, and the fact he had one of the few silk screening operations left in all of the U.S.A, Mike was now basically rich. However, he kept working at his shop, now employing seamstresses and tailors to help make clothes and dress uniforms for everyone in the U.S.A., including the Allied Troops. Because of Torbin’s fame, and the word that they were friends, Mike now had a booming mail order business. A privately run post office/private shipping company had been set up to connect all the Unoccupied States in a formal, organized manner. Madam President had told the owners of it that it would be allowed to run privately so long as it served the purposes of the U.S.A. And, they did not gouge its customers.

  Mike was now on the Board of Directors.

  Mike had handed Torbin a package a couple of days ago, after hearing the details of the Eater Attack. “Here, Marine. My own max load hollow points with liquid mercury in them for your Smith and Wesson. If the lead doesn’t kill what you shoot, the expanding mercury will. If nothing else, it will poison whatever you hit.”

  Torbin had two speed loaders with Dutch Loads of AP and Mike’s hollow points for the Smith. He also had a twelve round leather loop strip on his belt, with commercial heavy semi-wad cutters for hard hitting penetration. A dump pouch with another half dozen lead round nose that he had dum-dumed by cutting the bullets with his Ka-Bar rounded out his ammunition load. Torbin figured that once he got into the miscreants complex, he would find other weapons to use. Walking off with Alek’s Saiga 12 gauge, or suddenly taking an assault rifle from the range would cause too many questions, especially from Aleks.