by Mike Kraus
“I wouldn’t expect any less from a grunt like yourself.” Linda returned the grin and Garland nodded and smiled.
“Rollins, I don’t know why you’re here but you’re welcome to stay. You and Richards both. We’re stretched thin enough that we need every able-bodied pair of hands available.”
“If the circumstances were any different, Colonel, I’d stay in a heartbeat. But we need to keep going to Tennessee.”
Garland frowned. “Where in Tennessee are you heading, anyway?”
“My parents are in Pigeon Forge. I’m planning to—” Linda stopped talking as she saw Garland’s expression change. The roughness disappeared and it was replaced with an awkward feeling of remorse that quickly grew until it was all she could see. “Colonel? What’s wrong?”
“Rollins…” Garland hesitated. “Pigeon Forge is gone.”
Chapter 16
Despite her initial lack of verbal response, the sudden drop in Linda’s stomach was palpable across the room. She blinked several times and swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat before managing to choke out a response. “It’s… gone? How can an entire city be gone?”
The distant boom of thunder shook the warehouse and Colonel Garland looked out through the nearby window. “Christ… just what we need.” He shook his head then looked back at Linda. “How can a city be gone? A perfect-fucking-storm. That’s how. The city took an extra hard beating during the initial attack. The wildfire north of the city got absolutely fuck-all for attention after that and spread out of control. Whoever didn’t die in the fires or from the virus is half-frozen.”
“Half-frozen?” Frank asked.
Garland snorted and nodded. “Sorry, I forget sometimes the radios and TVs are out. Massive snowstorm. Blew through in and out in a day and dumped two feet of snow on the ground.” Garland’s look grew distant. “They’ve been one of the hardest hit cities. Them and Salt Lake. Drone flyovers project less than half a percent of the residents could have survived.”
“Holy shit.” Frank whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. “How is that even possible?”
“Perfect storm, like I keep saying. Doesn’t help that we’re still being forced to check every single vehicle in the entire United States military before we’re authorized to send them out. It’ll be weeks before we have rescue operations fully staffed, plus we’re spread so thin right now we can’t do jack shit.”
“Colonel.” Linda stood up slowly from her seat and spoke with a stiff, robotic voice. “Thank you for the information. Do you have a pair of cots we can use for the night? We’ll be out of your hair by morning.”
Garland gave Frank an odd look and nodded slowly at Linda. “Not a problem, Rollins. If you need anything just ask.”
Thunder rumbled again, shaking the warehouse even harder. A few seconds later the sound was accompanied by the noise of raindrops hitting the metal roof. “Shit.” Garland stood up and headed for the door, shouting as he ran out. “Simmons! Get these two some food and beds. Give them their vehicle and whatever else you confiscated as well.”
“Yes, sir!” A distant reply came and was followed by the thud of boot steps racing across the warehouse floor. Corporal Simmons showed up a moment later and looked at Frank and Linda.
“Please, follow me.”
Frank and Linda followed behind Simmons and Frank watched with interest as the flurry of activity in the warehouse continued to explode. “Corporal, what’s up with everyone here?”
“Rain protocol.”
“Rain protocol? What’s that mean?”
Simmons looked around and shook his head. “Water mains in the city broke and the floods are wreaking havoc with our robots on the ground.”
“What’re they for? Recon?”
“Yeah, something like that. Mostly to test the air and figure out where any survivors are holed up. They’re not equipped for the rain, though, so we have to get them back as fast as possible. That plus the fact that even the slightest amount of extra water’s going to mean flooding in even more areas.”
“Jeez. Sounds rough. Anything we—I—can do to help? I don’t want to just be an imposition.”
Simmons motioned for Frank and Linda to go ahead of him into a large tent set up in a corner of the industrial complex. “No, thank you, though. We have it under control. We’ll have your vehicle and equipment back to you by morning. Meals are in the cupboard under the table, water’s on top and you can heat whatever you’d like in the microwave. We’ve only got instant coffee at the moment.”
“Sounds like heaven after the last few days. Thank you, Simmons.”
Corporal Simmons nodded and ducked back out of the tent. Frank waited until he was gone before shaking his head and nudging Linda. “Under control my ass. Did you see how they were running around out there?”
When Linda didn’t reply Frank guided her to an empty cot in the tent and helped her sit down. She looked at him blankly for several seconds before focusing on him and blinking a few times in surprise. “Hm? Oh. Yeah. It’s chaos out there.”
“Linda, are you—”
“Let’s talk tomorrow, Frank. I’ve got a lot to think about tonight. You should get something to eat and drink and get some sleep. I’ll let you know if I need any help with the bandage.” With that pronouncement Linda laid down on the cot, rolled over to face the side of the tent and closed her eyes.
Frank backed up slowly, taken aback by what she said and did and not sure how to interpret it. After microwaving a suspicious packet of rice and some sort of unidentifiable meat Frank sat at a small table across the tent and ate, keeping a close eye on Linda the entire time. She didn’t make any sounds and barely moved at all, shifting only slightly as she tried to get into a more comfortable position.
While Frank sat quietly in the tent wondering what was going on with Linda, she was not sleeping at all. On the contrary, she was deep in thought, her mind racing as she tried to put pieces together from the last few days and merge them with the information that she had learned a short time before.
The news about Pigeon Forge had come as a surprise, but her stilted speech and faraway look had been little more than a ruse designed to get her out of the Colonel’s office as quickly as possible so she could have time to think to herself. Linda was worried about her parents, but in the face of such a devastating threat she fell back on her training, seeking to prioritize the threats she faced and systematically eliminate them one by one.
While in Garland’s office, as Frank was chatting with the Colonel, Linda had taken an opportunity to steal a few glances at papers scattered across the table. Linda was somewhat surprised that Garland had left the papers out while chatting with her and Frank, but while he could have just been incompetent, she wondered if he was actually trying to share the information with them in the first place without being overt about it.
The papers all had a top secret stamp across the tops and bottoms and most described troop movements, locations of temporary bases set up around the city and detailed plans for the next few days split up into hour-by-hour sections. The paper that had intrigued her the most, though, was one that contained more detailed information about the perpetrators of the attacks as well as warnings for what was coming next.
In the hours before the first bombs went off, six canisters containing the virus that was ravaging Pittsburgh were found by local police officers in three different cities. The canisters were innocuous-looking enough, though, that they were simply bagged and placed into an evidence holding area for later processing. An eagle-eyed police chief spotted one of the canisters activating inside of the evidence bag and sent out a description of the device which was forwarded on to the military.
Soda can size with a plain white label, screw-off pressurized top and lime-green seals. The gas was light orange or tan in color at first. The evidence bag nearly popped from the pressure and after the device expended the gas contained inside, the electronic mechanism that triggered the release seemed to shut down.
The description of the canister had caught Linda’s eye and at the time she wasn’t sure why. Mulling it over as she rested on the cot, though, reminded her of why she found the canister so eerily familiar. Is it the same thing? The lime-green seals and the label match. But there weren’t any electronic components… I think. Linda ground her teeth together and squeezed her eyes even tighter as she tried to remember the details from that fateful day so many years prior.
Linda played the fragments from the scene back in her mind, watching the metal canisters bounce across the ground towards her squad. Thick lime-green seals were wrapped around both ends and a plain white label with Arabic writing ran along the side. The canisters spewed a white smoky gas as they tumbled across the ground and Linda grimaced as the screams of her squad mate burned in her ear.
“From beyond the grave you spit at me.” Linda whispered to herself on the cot. Across the room Frank’s head jerked up and he looked around, trying to figure out if he had been imagining things or if Linda had really just spoken.
“Saywhuh?” Frank rubbed his eyes and yawned, then stood up and walked over near Linda. She rolled over in bed and slowly sat up, staring him in the eyes.
“From beyond the grave he spits at me.” Linda sighed and pointed at the cot across from hers. “Sit down, Frank. It’s time to lay my cards on the table.”
“What, about being a Raider? I’m not an idiot, you know. I wasn’t a typical Army brat but I know a thing or three.”
Linda sighed again and shook her head. “No.” Linda ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back into a tight ponytail. “I think I know who’s responsible for all of this.”
Frank felt a chill run down his spine as he asked the obvious question. “Who?”
“Farhad Omar. The same bastard that was behind the slaughter of my unit.”
Chapter 17
It has been eighteen months since the invasion began and Linda Rollins has been a civilian for three months. As she leans against the tight harness in the back of a privately contracted Osprey flying over the desert sands, the same thought goes through her head that has passed through it a thousand times in the last three months.
“Am I insane?”
Immediately after being shipped back home and receiving a medical discharge Linda Rollins set her mind on one goal: avenging the dead. The fact that some had abandoned her meant nothing. Her mind was fixed on a singular purpose and nothing would dissuade her.
When Linda Rollins knocked on the door of Talon Creek, LLC she was hired on the spot. Her pay was a quarter million per deployment and she was promised access to every toy she could ever dream of. The Private Military Contractor was one of hundreds employed by the United States to perform work in Iran during and after the invasion. For most employed by the PMCs it was a chance to blow things up and get paid a lot of money to do it.
For Linda Rollins it was a chance for revenge.
“Wheels down in thirty seconds!” A voice screams over Linda’s headset and she paws for the volume control to turn down the volume. “We are in a live fire zone! Upon landing you are to proceed immediately to the rendezvous and proceed with your patrols!”
Linda looks around at the others strapped in to the back of the Osprey. Most are men with tattoos, goatees, wraparound sunglasses and too much attitude. The few women that comprise the rest are nearly as masculine as the men, carousing and joking with them as though they’ve known each other for years.
Linda has purposefully kept to herself the last three months. Kept her head low, stayed out of the limelight and ensured she isn’t noticed. All while working in the background to influence where she goes on her first assignment. Her hard work pays off ten minutes after the Osprey touches down and the group in the back charges out into the sandstorm that blankets the city.
The first nine minutes of the patrol are spent establishing locations and objectives, identifying where enemy fire is originating and making plans to destroy emplaced weapon positions. The tenth minute, once the plans are established and the group moves out, is spent falling to the back of the group and slipping away into the shadows.
The fierce wind and sand-filled air make breathing without a mask or filter impossible. Communications are next to impossible. Somehow, though, Linda solves the communications problem. She ducks into a small home, checking each room with a quick sweep of her rifle before squatting down and putting on a headset from her bag.
“Eagle, this is Badger. I am in position. Please confirm and advise.”
The seconds tick by in agony without a response and Linda nearly repeats her message when the earpiece crackles to life.
“Badger, this is Eagle. Message confirmed. Transmitting rendezvous location. Good luck, Raider.”
Linda pulls off the headset and stuffs it into her bag. Picking her way through the city to the indicated location takes nearly two hours, though that’s an hour less than she estimated. When she arrives at the burned out buildings she searches through the rubble until she finds the unmarred steel trapdoor, just as it was described. The lock on the door has already been cut and she kicks it away before pulling on one of the handles.
A few steps down the stairs and Linda is forced to switch on her headlamp and the light attached to the barrel of her rifle. She heads down slowly, sweeping each turn with an excess amount of caution and care. She knows who should already be awaiting her arrival in the basement but an abundance of caution is the difference between life and death.
A faint glow appears at the bottom of the stairs and Linda slows down and peers at the source through the scope on her rifle. A tall figure dressed in a long leather coat and headwrap squats on the floor.
“Munir?” Linda says the name in a stage whisper and the figure shifts position to look in her direction. The figure appears unthreatening, but in the soft light of the lantern Linda catches a glimpse of a submachine gun in the man’s hand, tucked back beneath his jacket. He looks at Linda for a long second before lowering the gun and standing to his feet.
“Linda. You’re early.”
Linda pulls off her mask and smiles at the lanky man. The only portions of his olive skin that are visible are his hands, face and neck. His hair and top of his head are wrapped in a thin covering and his typically long, flowing robes are nowhere to be seen, having been replaced by cargo pants and a long-sleeved shirt.
“Better than late. What’ve you got for me?”
Munir holds up his lantern and gestures at the room. “Not much, I’m afraid. What you see here is what’s already been cleaned out and picked over by scavengers a dozen times over.”
“You wouldn’t call me here unless you had something more than an empty room.”
A slight smile passes across Munir’s lips and his hazel eyes twinkle with a mischievous air. “You are correct. Come, this way.”
Munir leads Linda across the basement, passing bits of broken machinery, smashed tabletops and overturned lockers. Near the side of the room Munir stops and gestures at the ceiling. “Illuminate that, please.”
Linda turns her head and rifle toward the ceiling, sending twin beams of light flashing across a strip of torn plastic that dangles from above. Half an inch thick, the plastic is shredded like it was torn apart with great force. Bullet holes riddle the bits of plastic that hang close to the floor.
“You see it, yes?” Munir sweeps his hand across the path of the sheet.
“Huh.” Linda nods. “A contamination shield. Separating this section of the room.” She looks at Munir. “For testing?”
Munir shakes his head. “For the families.”
“Families? Of—oh. Oh my.” Linda casts her lights across the floor behind where the thick plastic sheet once hung. The beds and linens that once covered the area are gone, having long ago been looted. Holes in the floor where bolts held the stacked beds in place are still visible, though, and Linda crouches down and sweeps a gloved hand across the floor. “Bastards. How long since they were here?”
&nbs
p; “A month, perhaps two or three. It is difficult to tell. No one is willing to speak of it for fear of what will happen to their families.”
“Wait, you mean he let the scientists go?”
“Every one of them. Their families as well.”
“Why the hell would he do that?”
Munir’s eyes grow sad. “He has total control over them. If they whisper a word of what they know then their families will be slaughtered in front of them.”
“Can we extract any of the scientists and their families? Get them out of the country and to safety?”
“They will not be willing. And if you were to try to move on them, I fear he would see it coming and prepare a counterattack. All elements of surprise would be gone.”
Linda stands and slowly walks through the room. “So this was a bust, eh?”
Munir tilts his head. “In some respects, yes. In others, no. We now know he was here and we have confirmation of the biological testing he guided.”
“Without specifics I’m not going to be able to get anyone to believe me much less send in some cavalry.” The watch on Linda’s wrist lights up and it vibrates softly against her skin. She looks at the face and curses. “Shit. I have to go. They’re wrapping up their patrol early.”
“I will let you know when I have more information.”
“Thanks, Munir.” Linda embraces the man in a brief hug and pats him on the back. “If you need anything you just call.”
Munir smiles at her as she puts her mask back on. “Take care of yourself out there.”
Chapter 18
“Back up for a second. You spent how long trying to find this Farhad guy?”
“I’ve been working on it in some capacity since I was discharged.”
“Damn.” Frank nodded. “That’s some dedication. And you think he’s the mastermind behind all of what’s going on?”
