The Battle for Houston...The Aftermath

by T I WADE

  Marie was happy to see General Patterson, then Admiral Rogers, and finally the president step out from her rear cargo door.

  “They just couldn’t stay away from good meat and good beer,” stated Preston leading the crowd out to greet the three men.

  “Just what I was thinking about on the way in, Preston,” smiled the president seeing the beer in Preston’s hand.

  “What kept you guys?” he asked in return.

  “Just sorting out new soldiers to take on some of the work load,” replied General Patterson, shaking Preston’s hand and then getting a hug from Marie.

  “Nice to be invited!” added Admiral Rogers who also seemed to have somebody happy to see his arrival, Preston noted: Lee’s Cousin, Lu. She was at least twenty years younger than the admiral, but in this new world, nobody really cared anymore.

  “Mike Mallory is an hour behind us. He is totally exhausted and I ordered him to get some rest. Buck is flying him in your Colombian DC-3. I thought to return your aircraft, Carlos, before the Air Force asks for the couple you guys commandeered,” smiled the general.

  Beers were quickly handed out and all the freezers on both farms were raided for a large BBQ that evening; dozens of frozen chicken, pork chops and steaks were laid out on the hot porch to defrost. Mo’s frozen fish would be left for his return.

  It was time to celebrate the end of the American Wars.

  An extremely tired and haggard-looking Mike Mallory arrived on schedule, and Barbara flew into Buck’s arms.

  Preston was surprised how a couple of cold beers made a man freshen up pretty quickly, and he was shocked how much weight the Southwest captain had lost. Preston looked around and realized that nobody was overweight in the crowd. Everybody had lost weight and looked extremely fit and healthy; even Joe looked twenty pounds lighter. He had never seen so many healthy people; there wasn’t an ounce of extra weight anywhere.

  “Found a couple of dozen cattle running around my farm a week ago, Preston” Joe stated, helping Preston and a couple of others turn the meat on the BBQ.

  “We went and helped round them up,” added Clint, thirstily drinking an iced can of coke.

  “I rode one, but couldn’t get it to gallop,” stated Little Beth.

  “It’s a bleeding cow, not a horse!” replied Preston. “Cows don’t gallop, girl!”

  “Oh!” replied Little Beth sheepishly.

  Oliver and Puppy had been waiting for this day for some time now. They too could hardly remember when there were bones aplenty; the wild animals in the area could wait to be sniffed and searched out. The pool for them was also a new luxury and both dogs’ coats were still wet from their last splash.

  Buck also looked tired; Smokey the cat had appeared from somewhere and was happy in his arms, his eyes closed and purring. Smokey’s serene face expressed what most of the people felt sitting around in chairs facing the mobile BBQ; it was half of a 55-gallon drum propped up on steel legs and had been placed close to the new pool.

  The president’s face also relaxed as his beer hit the spot. There was a large cooler with ice and it was full of beers and he was already eyeing his second. Summer was certainly in swing.

  That night they partied and danced in the hangar. It was cool, the doors shut to keep out the insects, and finally after nearly six months of waiting, the New Year’s Eve party was continued in style.

  Oliver and Puppy did complete their morning tour of the airfield the next morning. This time they had three men walking with them around the perimeter.

  “So what happens now?” asked Preston to the two men walking with him.

  “I just don’t know,” replied the president feeling the beers from the night before. “I don’t know how to run a country with no government, no infrastructure and no communications with the general population.”

  “Well, all good things have a “Day One,” and I suppose this is one of them,” commented General Patterson. “I feel we are miles along the road of advancement; Michael Roebels has the first small electrical grid running in Silicon Valley, he has a new electric vehicle he is testing, and there are already a million of these vehicles in collection compounds around the country. The first crops are being harvested across our nation; food is being produced by millions of famers and helpers. I think we have a good chance of survival for the foreseeable future. I also believe that the rebuild of a more modern civilization is a good possibility for this country.”

  “I think so too,” agreed the other two men together.

  They could not see the next problem looming over the horizon.

  THE AFTERMATH

  * * *

  Chapter 1

  August 1st

  Several weeks after the three-day break to relax and the ongoing party at the airfield in Apex, North Carolina, the first official meeting of the new United States of America was beginning in the repaired capitol building.

  The building had taken a little damage, mostly from a few citizens who had managed to get past the military containment and steal anything movable.

  Over the last several weeks much had happened; summer had finally blossomed, food was being produced, the dead were still being buried, and new energy was beginning to pump itself into the successes each new day brought.

  August 1st was to be a celebration of the final flight of U.S. troops arriving home from Ramstein Air Force Base in Germany.

  At Ramstein, there was a small group of Europeans, mostly German and English, saying goodbye to American friends; a few of the men were returning with European girlfriends—American wives-to-be, several of whom were pregnant.

  Their long wait to be evacuated had produced new relationships and friends, with dozens staying behind. People like Michael O’Meara, a Scotsman who always dressed in a kilt, was bidding farewell to both of his pregnant younger sisters; Mary and Madeline were passengers on the last of the four 747s, each of which was transporting 600 men who were the last to leave the air base.

  Also among the well-wishers were Martin and Helen Mackenzie, Major Paul Crotty and his private army of 300-odd men and women, Wing Commander Gordon Wade and his two pilot teams, the English film actor Peter Jefferies, German actress Michelle Moser and over a dozen other friends, all saying goodbye to the last group of the departing 1st Cavalry Division and the 7th Marine Regiment they had befriended, helped and aided in the battles Britain and Europe had gone through during the last seven months.

  The troop evacuations had slowed over the last few weeks as more, and more aircraft were needed to fly electronics in from China and fresh food to the U.S. population, now living in a 500 mile-wide strip that stretched across the center of the country from the East to West Coast.

  California, Oregon and Washington State on the West Coast were still inhabited, as well as much of the East Coast. Boston had a very limited population due to dangerous areas of disease in and around the city and, New York was nearly a ghost town.

  Much of the north was on total lock down, disease was rampant, and few ventured into this forsaken land.

  Cities like Chicago, Detroit, Milwaukee and Minneapolis were locked down tight. Body squads in sealed air-conditioned vehicles moved through the streets clearing away decomposed bodies, which never seemed to end. Rabid dogs and other animals were everywhere and immediately shot on sight. Buildings were gone through with men dressed in Hazmat suits and, bodies were brought out to dump trucks waiting to cart them away to the nearest burn-pit. The numbers were staggering.

  The authorities in charge of the body cleanup estimated that it would take another month or two before the mammoth task ended; then these areas would be closed to the public for a full year, to make sure that any disease dissipated.

  As usual, everybody who had been part of the invasion of the United States was invited to the Capitol for the August 1st meeting. The Capitol grounds had dozens of white painted helicopter landing zones across the green grass, and all were expected to be flown in from Andrews.

  All of the surviving m
embers of Congress had been ordered to attend by the president and, even with everybody expected, the House Chamber would still only be half full.

  Barbara flew Lady Dandy while Buck and Preston flew Carlos’ DC-3. Carlos, who had been shot and wounded while in Colombia, was still off active flying for a while and had around-the-clock protection for the first time Preston could remember. Carlos had only arrived late the evening before with a U.S. Air Force pilot flying his DC-3.

  The North Carolina airfield had grown in population from just Preston and Martie a year earlier to now over two dozen people. Many were now permanent residents or used the airfield as a second home, going in to visit every now and again.

  Lady Dandy carried sixteen, Barbara and fifteen others. Included were Joe and his five boys, Pam Wallace, David and Jennifer, Mo Wang, Beatrice and her daughter, and Marie and her two daughters. In the second DC-3 were Buck, Preston and Martie, the injured Carlos with his two bodyguards, Little Beth, Clint, and Lu, Lee Wang’s niece, and her two children.

  Everybody wore their best clothes, and they were all excited to see the inside of the Capitol, many for the first time.

  All of the military personnel, like General Patterson, Admiral Rogers and the others, had visited North Carolina only a couple of times in the last several weeks. The first time was to help Preston take over command of RDU Airport. The broken buildings and interiors had been removed by dump trucks, the useless aircraft all lined up in neat rows and stored on the grass around the runway; Michael Roebels had flown in for two days to repair the control tower and get all of the communications and directional flight equipment working again. RDU was now a military airfield, patrolled 24/7; engineers had checked the aviation fuel tanks and decided that there were two million gallons of jet fuel and one million gallons of aviation fuel available for the use.

  Several aircraft of assorted types were flying in and out daily to supply food to the local towns; it had become the main food-distribution point for a third of North Carolina, where three million people were now living. As with many of the now forty operational airports throughout the center area of the country, dozens of trucks of all types brought in food daily from the surrounding farms which was then airlifted out to dozens of smaller distribution points, usually military bases.

  Carlos had returned from Bogotá late the night before, and nobody was allowed to visit with him. His bodyguards even refused Preston a short visit except to greet his friend. Carlos said that he had much to tell, and they would get together after the meeting in Washington.

  Preston was surprised to see that Carlos was recuperating from a bullet wound in his hip and had a bandaged head injury, but he was still able to walk, although slowly. His head looked like he was wearing a turban. Preston noticed that Uncle Philippe and Carlos’ father were absent and the pretty Colombian lady and Dani were very careful to protect his friend. Weird!

  The two slow aircraft got into line for the final approach into Andrews Air Force Base, where, with all of the past meetings, several aircraft were all arriving at once.

  It was nice to feel a slight cool breeze compared to the hot muggy conditions further south. Everybody was tanned and healthy. The airfield’s makeshift pool had been slowly modified and now was completed with tiled sunbathing areas, a BBQ hut, and shade gazebo; the pool itself had a newly laid cement bowl underneath the blue canopy. It didn’t look as fancy as a hotel pool but, in the hot July weather, nobody really cared.

  The Church would be the most important building on the airfield this coming weekend; it was booked out with a wedding on both Saturday and Sunday. Before Carlos left for Colombia, Preston and Carlos had tossed to see who would marry first and Carlos won.

  August 1st fell on a Thursday and that gave the wedding parties time to get back and get ready for their grand day. Sally was flying in from Arizona with her parents for the meeting. During the three weeks Carlos was away she had spent the time with her parents making sure they were safe.

  The airfield was busy with dozens of helicopters waiting to ferry the arriving people over to Capitol Hill. Estimates from General Patterson were that 200 people would be in attendance.

  A crowded agenda included medals to be given out to the heroes in the Houston battle, a meeting with survivors of last year’s cabinet, and then an unplanned meeting with four representatives from major corporations, who had suddenly arrived out of nowhere, and arrogantly demanded a meeting with the president immediately after his speech. These large corporate CEOs had sent a letter to the president in July demanding that their companies be given all help necessary to rebuild, immediately.

  With military precision the groups were guided to the waiting helicopters, eight to an aircraft and, one after the other, they lifted off for the ten-minute flight to Washington.

  Preston, walking next to the bodyguards who were helping Carlos, slowly walked over to the helicopter; he waved to Lee Wang and his family boarding one of the helicopters in front of them. Lee, his wife and daughter, were still working in Silicon Valley with Michael Roebels, and Lee and family, and Michael had flown over for today’s meeting and the weddings this coming weekend.

  Washington looked peaceful and empty. The buildings for several blocks around Capitol Hill and the White House had been cordoned off since June and many locals had headed out to live with family and friends outside the capital. It was not a pleasant city to live in any more. Little food and thousands of military patrols made a peaceful life in the capital city non-existent. The whole country had been under martial law since May and, Washington, D.C. was the worst hit area.

  One by one the helicopters landed to drop off their passengers and took off once their cargo was out of the way. Soldiers on the ground helped show the incoming guests where to go and soon the pleasant cool of air-conditioning could be felt as they entered the building from the gardens.

  Preston now had air-conditioning in all of his buildings as well; two of his Mann diesel engines had been returned to him with several military HVAC systems and, with the 5,000 gallons of diesel in his one underground fuel tank still intact, he and Joe had installed the systems just before the heat pounced at the end of June.

  “I’ve always wanted to tour the Capitol,” Martie commented to Preston as they entered the cool of the building. They both were helping Carlos who was looking for Sally; both of his wounds, although only flesh wounds, needed more time to heal.

  “I did once, with my father, as a young kid. Think I was five, but I remember everything about our tour,” replied Preston walking into and remembering the Rotunda. “Just as I remembered it, Martie. Do you know several presidents have lain in state here? Gerald Ford and Ronald Reagan were a couple of them.”

  “I do know my history, Professor Strong,” replied Martie gazing up at the ceiling and taking in the massive area. “I can’t remember if President Reagan laid here in the Rotunda, or in another part of the building, but I remember watching people walk pass his coffin on television. The Rotunda is magnificent!”

  Mo Wang and Lee and his family finally found them and they all happily greeted each other, and wandered around the building and until slowly, they were ushered into the House Chamber. Now, history really reached out to Preston. How many “State of the Union” speeches had he watched on television coming from this actual room? It was big. He looked up and noticed that the second level was empty of people, apart from dozens of military personnel.

  “This must be the first time so many members of the public filled this room,” Preston whispered to Martie as they were seated in the third row from the front and, as always, with people they knew. Mo Wang and then Beatrice sat on Preston’s other side and looked around. Carlos had disappeared with his bodyguards; a colonel had come to escort him to an earlier meeting.

  Chapter 2

  Bogotá, Colombia – July

  Thirteen military aircraft flew south on a warm July afternoon, three weeks before the Washington meeting. Carlos was flying his open-door DC-3 at high cruise
, just keeping up with the seven refurbished Colombian Air Force AC-130 gunships with Easy Girl leading the way.

  Three hours behind them were another twenty-four U.S. Air Force C-130s full of U.S. Marines; two thousand men ready for a fight.

  The seven Colombian gunships were also full of men and ammo. Twenty-five members of Seal Team Six were in two of the gunships, recently renovated in the U.S. One of the AC-130s was full of the promised Miniguns, over one hundred of them, and the other one full of other bits and pieces Ambassador Rodriquez had requested, as well as several 80-mm mortars.

  An hour ahead of the gunships were the twenty Zhi-10 Chinese Attack helicopters flying in formation, also at 10,000 feet, and with three HC-130 fuel tankers in attendance, ready to juice them up. They would make Colombian airspace before midnight, and they were all due to head into Santiago de Cali’s International Airport, where the ambassador’s brothers were ready to meet them.

  The 747 transporter was due to leave Andrews later in the day and fly a belly-full of equipment into the same airport in Cali at about the same time; the city’s international airport’s tarmac was just long enough to take the massive beast. Inside the transporter were airport radio beacons, aircraft directional equipment from Michael Roebels, radios, several of the old Amiga computers as well as more mortars, bombs, and ammo for the Miniguns and pallets of projectiles for the new AC-130 gunships.

  With twelve tons of ammo onboard, Carlos was glad he wasn’t flying the monster into Colombian airspace; if hit by a missile the loaded 747 transporter would light up the sky for hundreds of miles.

  The ambassador sat contently in the DC-3 with Carlos flying and his father sitting in the co-pilot’s seat. Behind them sat Uncle Philippe’s four bodyguards, Mannie, Manuela, Dani and Antonio, and five of Seal Team Six. The Seal Team members were all Spanish speaking and had captured the Calderón brothers. Carlos and the two older men had enjoyed the intricate details of how the brothers had been hoodwinked.