Holding Their Own XI: Hearts and Minds

by Joe Nobody

  There was nothing else he could do.

  Chapter 2

  The two black SUVs rolled out of Alpha, speeding west toward Fort Bliss. The lead unit’s front and rear seats were filled with the Alliance’s best security team, each having been handpicked to protect the fledgling republic’s highest elected official.

  All four were uneasy, their eyes scanning the road ahead for anything unusual that might threaten Diana.

  They were men paid to be nervous, to question everything, and take nothing for granted. They all understood their charge’s importance to the Alliance and her citizens. Any of them would die to protect her.

  Since Nick’s hospitalization, Diana had been making frequent trips to the distant base, journeys that caused her protectors to clench their teeth from stress. Redundancy led to predictability, and in their business, that often meant death.

  Like most governments, the Alliance’s capital was a relatively docile environment, heavily patrolled and well policed. Not all of the territories could make such claims. El Paso fell into a category the security forces called a “frontier town.” Unofficially, the border city was often referred to as the “wild, wild West.”

  Except Fort Bliss, much of the city was still on the fringe of law and order. Houston, Dallas, Austin, and San Antonio were all at various stages of reintegration and recovery.

  Today, their heightened senses were taxed far beyond the usual trip to El Paso. Instead of one of their own behind the wheel of the leader’s personal vehicle, Bishop was doing the driving per Diana’s strongly worded request. That was a change from the security team’s well-established protocol, and they were men who didn’t appreciate even the slightest deviation.

  They all knew the man, trusted his loyalty, and respected his willingness to fight. His reputation was well known throughout post-collapse Texas… and even beyond. But he was a lone wolf, and they were a team. Their methods and tactics were unique and well drilled. If trouble did rear its ugly head on the way to Fort Bliss, Diana’s protection would be handicapped by having him onboard.

  Even more troubling was the fact that Nick was being released from the hospital today. None of the protectors knew what to expect when their boss returned to duty. Throughout their careers, all of them had seen the impact of such serious wounds and how their comrades had been affected. Sometimes the experience could make a man timid, other times the result was dangerous aggression. Now and then, a hollow, empty shell was released from the doctor’s care.

  Nick was exceptionally well liked and respected. No one wanted to see the big man damaged in any way.

  Which led to the primary reason why Diana’s bodyguards were on edge.

  Since Nick’s hospitalization, the Alliance’s leader, their boss’s fiancé, had been spending a tremendous amount of time with Bishop. So much so that rumors were beginning to circulate among the security forces.

  Being professionals, they had all initially taken a position that the relationship was none of their business.

  But as time passed, a state of melancholy began to descend over the innermost ring of Diana’s team. Trouble between their commander and someone like Bishop could easily escalate to violence. Domestic disturbances were still a leading cause of homicide within the territories. No one wanted to see the Alliance’s first and second couples soiled by scandal or split in half. Some of the men had even speculated that an internal feud could lead to civil war.

  At first, Bishop’s constant presence had made sense in a way. Nick was at Bliss, Bishop’s wife in New Mexico. Everyone knew the two couples had fought side-by-side numerous times to create the Alliance. If the stories were only half-exaggerated, Bishop and Nick had saved each other’s lives a dozen times.

  Late night laughter drifting from Diana’s private quarters had begun to erode some opinions. Bishop’s delivery of a few gifts had furthered the slide. After a few weeks of watching the pair, even the most optimistic witnesses began to have doubts.

  To many of the professionals guarding Diana, Bishop’s actions, even if completely innocent, were treacherous behavior. Nick was supposed to be his friend and had stood by the Texan during the worst of times. Wearing a path to Diana’s back door while the boss was incapacitated was dastardly.

  The fact that Nick was being released today could spell trouble, and guarding someone like Diana was difficult enough without internal strife and turmoil. A thick fog of apprehension filled the lead SUV.

  The eastern sun was barely peeking over the horizon as Alpha faded in Bishop’s rearview mirror. Sitting beside him in the passenger seat, Diana was giddy. “I’ve been looking forward to this day for weeks. I finally get to bring Nick home from the hospital. It’s been wearing me a little thin, driving back and forth, worrying about the big lug, and trying to manage government business all at the same time.”

  Bishop understood. “I hear ya. I know how much I miss Terri and Hunter, and they’re in good health. They’re supposed to be back from New Mexico in a few days. We should all get together and have a celebration.”

  Beaming, Diana gushed, “Now that’s one heck of an idea. But you have to promise me that you’ll keep Nick from coming back to work too soon. The docs wanted to keep him another week, but I guess he’s being a difficult patient.”

  “Imagine that,” Bishop said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Hard to picture Nick being anything but a low-key, meek, cooperative soul.”

  Both of them had a good laugh over the vision conjured by the Texan’s words. Both felt a little sorry for the staff at the hospital.

  “As far as making you that promise,” Bishop continued, “No deal. I’m not the smartest guy in the country, but I’m not the dumbest either. Other than you, no one makes Nick do a damn thing he doesn’t want to.”

  “He’ll listen to you, and you know it’s true. Please, Bishop, I don’t want him trying to do too much too soon and having a relapse.”

  Nodding, Bishop responded, “I remember when Terri and I were bugging out from Houston and I took a bullet… lost a lot of blood. Getting shot by those kidnappers was even worse. I was on the same floor of that hospital for weeks,” he paused as his brain surged with memories. “It’s tough. Your mind is just fine. It wants to get up and move, do things, and start living again. But your body won’t cooperate. It’s a difficult, frustrating situation to manage. No worries, Diana. You have my word that I’ll do my best to help my hardheaded friend deal with it.”

  “Thanks. By the way, speaking of hardheaded, I’ve got a scheduled call with an old associate of yours today, the President of those United States.”

  Bishop laughed, “Why do you surround yourself with these types of men? Give the Colonel… err… I mean the president, my regards.”

  Diana hesitated for just a moment, and then said, “I’d like for you to be there, Bishop. It’s going to be an important call, and normally I’d have Nick at my side. I could use a sounding board.”

  “Of course,” Bishop replied. “I’ll do my best. Besides, it will be good to say hello to the Colonel again.”

  A smile lit Diana’s face, “Thank you. I swear I won’t be burdening you with this crap much longer. You’ve been a wonderful friend these last few weeks. I don’t know if I could have made it through without you.”

  Bishop waved her off, “You would… and have done the same for Terri and me. None of us would have survived the apocalypse without each other. Together, we’re all stronger.”

  The Alliance’s leader nodded and then turned her attention to the passing West Texas countryside. Bishop had been there for her, filling a void created by Nick’s absence. Like no one else in the bubble that surrounded her office, she could share her fears, anger, and doubts with him. He would never betray her… or Nick. He would never run off at the mouth or wield her humanness as a political weapon.

  She wondered how many of history’s great leaders had benefited from such a trustworthy circles of advisors. Probably all of them, she decided.

  Bishop
had been there when the monthly report estimating the death toll in Alliance territory had arrived. While outright famine no longer racked the population, disease and illness associated with years of malnutrition were still reaping thousands of souls every month. There simply weren’t enough doctors or medicine to go around. Diana had been devastated by the document’s projection that another 40,000 had perished, a large majority of which were children under the age of ten years.

  She had wept on Bishop’s shoulder for over half an hour, confident he wouldn’t judge her too weak or inadequate to lead the Alliance.

  And then there was the anniversary of her adopted son’s death. A horrible day that she dreaded every time it rolled around on the calendar. Atlas had died with honor, saving her church and its flock from being overrun, but that made little difference to the grieving mother who could still feel the warmth of his blood on her hands.

  It wasn’t always sorrow or grief. Anger was a constant companion to those who lead the recovery. On the day after reading about sick, dying children, Diana was informed of a man-made tragedy that had occurred just outside of Huntsville.

  When the lights had gone out for the last time, it was estimated Texas had over 120,000 inmates in her jails and prisons. Many had starved, locked in the cells without food or water. Tens of thousands more had escaped, turned loose on a society that couldn’t dial 9-1-1.

  Atlas had died fighting just such a gang of thugs.

  Many of the criminals were violent, sick individuals who had been locked away to protect the innocent. Now, many of them were still on the loose. The downfall of society had set law enforcement’s efforts back decades. Seasoned felons left to their own devices, coupled with seriously limited resources to corral them often led to more lawbreaking than the general population liked.

  On the day in question, Sheriff Watts brought the heartbreaking news of a large family having been found dead in their home. They had suffered badly before being murdered. Deputies had eventually tracked down the culprit, a serial killer who’d escaped during the collapse. He’d been marauding through the central Texas countryside ever since.

  Then there was the political strife. While the council’s directives had been successful, all five of the mandated priorities were being challenged by one unavoidable circumstance – how to manage the ownership of physical property.

  The incident at Ocean Towers in Corpus had made the headlines for days, sending a wave of apprehension throughout the territories. If wealthy men with resources couldn’t safely invest in Texas, how could the recovery possibly continue?

  Texas had suffered over 15 million dead, or roughly half of the population. Those causalities had left behind unclaimed businesses, farms, homes, and other assets. Who owned them? How were they to be disbursed? Should the government keep them? What about the banks that held the mortgages… what if those institutions reopened? The Alliance would need banking if the economy were to grow and prosper. Free enterprise was already demanding to take its rightful place as a leading role in society. Everyone on the council knew that centralized planning would only jumpstart a stalled system. It was time to get out of the way and let the engine of capitalism run free.

  Bishop, however, had strongly disagreed when the time came for the council to vote. “We’re not far enough along, in my humble opinion,” he stated after reviewing the latest proposal addressing property ownership. “The Alliance hasn’t established itself well enough just yet. There’s no shortage of problems to address across the land. Give it some more time before you take this one on.”

  Unlike so many surrounding Diana’s office, Bishop didn’t pout or become angry when she disagreed. After informing him that he was dead wrong and the issue was now the most critical on their agenda, he had simply shrugged and smiled. “That’s why you make the big bucks, and I carry a rifle,” he’d grinned. A minute later is was if the debate had never taken place.

  Normally, she could face the never-ending string of challenges and deal with the death and violence. Political unrest, outside threats, and the usual internal turmoil were all in a day’s work for Diana.

  But not with Nick’s life on the line, her future husband’s mental well-being still in question after such serious injuries. Not without Terri being there. Not with Kevin still mending from what had been a terrible ordeal of torture and abuse in New Mexico.

  On top of it all, the ramifications of the council’s latest decisions and policies were far reaching. If they got it wrong, the outcome could lead to another collapse and chaos. The future quality of life for the survivors was at stake. The stress was nearly incapacitating, stretching her, and all of the leadership, to the limit.

  Bishop had come to the rescue, offering a level head, kind smile, and unwavering support. Beyond all that… more important than anything else… was the trust shared between them. She would never forget his support during the last few weeks.

  Glancing over at her driver, Diana wondered why she was so amazed by such a simple thing as his friendship. Hadn’t Bishop always delivered? How many times had he saved the upstart movement? She’d lost count.

  It finally dawned on her. Bishop had always used his rifle, or combat skills, or bravery to save the day. She wondered if he knew how important this latest bout of heroism had been.

  Probably not, she decided. No one was shooting at him. It must have seemed like a vacation.

  Cameron James Lewis pushed away from his desk and turned to the window.

  As usual, the unremarkable Oklahoma countryside served as a reminder, the image having fueled his efforts and focused his energies on what had become life’s only meaningful objective – returning to Texas.

  They called themselves the Alliance now. He called them murdering, thieving bandits. Barbarians from the West.

  Months had passed since that fateful day when his security forces had been attacked. He’d watched as his men fell by the dozens, hundreds of Philistines storming the gates and destroying everything he’d done to help the people of Midland Station survive the downfall. The jealous traitors of his hometown had turned on him… every man, woman, and child. Revenge is sweet, my friends, Lewis mused. When I return triumphant, I will line the streets with your lifeless, disloyal bodies hanging by the noose.

  A homegrown army of irregulars had encircled his corporate headquarters, and only a mad, scrambling evacuation via rooftop helicopter had saved his life. It was all as fresh in his mind as if it had occurred just a few hours ago.

  As the emergency flight had lifted off, Cameron could still see the hundreds of dead and dying employees lying in a street that was named in honor of his father. Horror filled his soul as the hordes from the west poured into the office building that bore his family’s crest.

  The copter pilot had deposited him here, a remote exploration facility deep in the middle of nowhere. And here he’d stayed, revenge simmering in his core as he began working to rebuild the empire of his father’s dreams.

  It had been difficult, the vast majority of the corporation’s assets falling into the Alliance’s hands. He’d been forced to do little more than watch and stew as the only working refinery in Texas had enabled the thieves’ expansion all across the Lone Star State. His refinery. His engineers. His town. His family’s oil fueling the recovery.

  At first, Cameron had considered a counter-attack using force. He still had dozens of steadfast, armed men at his disposal. That option, however, was quickly ruled out. There were too many of the thugs, and their dominance was spreading like wildfire all across Texas.

  He’d ventured to Oklahoma City, hoping to solicit help from the federal authorities. He’d found the state capital in absolute anarchy. There was no government there, state or national. Only roving gangs fighting each other for territory and what few assets they could scavenge.

  So he, along with the staff at the facility, had waited, plotted, and improved their situation as circumstances allowed.

  Their big opportunity had arrived via Washington. T
he U.S. desperately needed petroleum, or more specifically gasoline, diesel, and natural gas. An emissary from the president’s office had driven up one day, sent on a fact-finding mission from the nation’s struggling capital. The federal representative had spent the entire morning talking with the former executive. Cameron knew the petrol business, was well aware of certain regional facilities and capabilities, and seemed eager to help kickstart the nation’s recovery.

  Natural gas had been the first priority. With Cameron’s skills and confidence, the Department of Energy had given him more and more authority and responsibility as the months passed. Progress was slow, but over time he’d begun to deliver badly needed energy to the military and key civilian users. It was a drop in the bucket compared to what the deprived nation needed, but every little bit counted.

  With prominence came power and control. Slowly, he gathered a war chest of men, equipment, and most importantly, knowledge.

  There had been setbacks. When news came that Washington was pulling the U.S. Army out of Texas, Cameron had been discouraged. Rumors of the Alliance slowly restoring electrical power to the state’s larger metropolitan areas had further darkened his mood for weeks. There had been periods where it seemed that returning home was nothing more than a distant, fading dream.

  Now, that had all changed.

  Turning back to the two men seated in front of his desk, Cameron found himself needing confirmation of what he’d just heard. “Are you sure of this? Absolutely certain?”

  “Yes, sir,” answered the older of the two. “The Alliance’s council made the decision just a short time ago. Our sources are confident this new program will be initiated in the next 10 days.”

  “It’s also part of the public record,” the other visitor stated. “The meeting minutes of the last four council sessions all contain numerous discussions about the ownership of private property and how the situation is growing critical. Diana Brown even stated that it was the Alliance’s single largest issue, now more important than the five directives.”