5 Years After (Book 2.5): Smoke & Mirrors

by Correll, Richard

  “Tobacco?” Molly called upon her memory.

  “Of course,” The General had a grim smile swimming in sarcasm. “Some folks in Congress just can’t kick the habit.”

  “So you charge a heavy price.” Molly knew the General loved every minute of that.

  “Supply and demand, Miss Hunter,” Beauragard drawled. “It’s all about supply and demand.”

  She listened to his low laugh on the other end of the phone and paused. Damn, how do I say this? The room around her seemed to get quieter. Finally, she just said it:

  “General, you know you’re being played.”

  “How do you see this?” Beauragard was all ears. She could see him in his office with the curtains half open and the old fashioned phone pressed to his ear. It was probably of an ancient, classic Victorian design. The fashion of older empires was so in vogue in this new republic of West Virginia.

  “The Russians probably heard about the sale of the gold, but weren’t sure.” They wanted you to verify it for them.” Molly had a tone of intrigue to her voice. “The bad part of this is if something goes wrong, you take the fall.”

  “I would not have done this,” Beauragard did not doubt her logic. “But our need was desperate.”

  “Desperate?”

  “Yes,” Beauragard continued with a sigh. “We have all the foodstuffs we need. But, its spare parts for our tanks, oil rigs in Burning Springs and such that have us over a barrel.”

  “How did you think you could get away with this?” Molly had to ask.

  “Most military units and militia are tied up protecting factories, towns and containment lines.” Beauragard’s strongpoint was strategy. Or was it pushing his luck? Molly let the thought sit as he continued. “We really haven’t run into that much resistance.”

  “Not yet, anyway,” Molly stated the obvious.

  “Indeed,” The General agreed. “I have just heard from my commander. He believes the Kentucky National Guard have Fort Knox surrounded.”

  “Wow.” Molly inhaled. The state of Kentucky may have been caught off guard, but now they had recovered. No doubt with Federal assistance. “Sorry General, but did you really think they were going let you just walk in?”

  “When we took the refineries three years ago,” Beauragard felt defensive. “They didn’t even bat an eye.”

  “Has there been any clashes recently?” Molly was trying to ease reality into a picture that was growing darker by the minute.

  “Yes, a subordinate officer gave an order earlier to pursue a civilian and kill him for taking our picture.” General Beauragard’s voice became stained with regret. Was it real? “I have belayed that order, but not before a containment line incident occurred that killed several Kentucky militia men.”

  “How is the civilian?” Molly thought of the Deacon.

  “I have no word. I do hope he is well.” Beauragard paused before adding; “Events like these spin out of control so easily.”

  “Yes, they do.” Molly agreed sadly. “This is now officially a shooting war.”

  “Yes, it appears to be.” The General’s voice was solemn. “We do have the upper hand in men and equipment.”

  “General, I don’t think you realize you’re at war with all of the United States.” Molly had to tell the truth. The clouds around the situation grew darker, like a curtained room through the hours of sunset. “This will not be just a border clash.”

  “Hopefully cooler heads will prevail.” He was almost fatalistic about it. Perhaps he expected to find a way out. Confidence no doubt had played a hand in his rise to power. He now expected fate would rise again and pull him out of the fire at the last minute. Fool’s courage perhaps, he spoke again after a long pause. “It’s the Russians I find the most intriguing.”

  “How so?” His change of direction was sudden. Molly let him call the tune for now.

  “The relationship between the Russians and the United States has been adversarial at best for as long as we can all remember.” Beauragard explained. “Even when we have been allies we didn’t trust one another.”

  “Do you think this is a good time for them to pick a fight?” The idea seemed bizarre. The world is ending but someone in the Russian leadership could not help but take one more swing at an old enemy.

  “They’re not picking a fight, Miss Hunter.” The General lowered his voice wisely. “They’re thinking ahead.”

  “How so?”

  “One day, God willing.” The General’s voice was low, speculative. “All of this will be over. The dead will stay dead.”

  “Hopefully, yes....” Molly was suddenly back in Racine. It’s never going to be over......

  “Someone in the Politburo is thinking toward that moment.” The General concluded. “When this is over and the Cold War resumes.........and it will resume, Miss Hunter. You can bet on that. Why not take the chance providence has offered you and eliminate your chief adversary now?” T

  “It looks that way,” Molly remembered something Bryant said in their conversation and added; “But won’t the collapse of the American dollar affect the Russians as well?”

  “I guess they have done the mathematical and financial gymnastics and decided they could survive.” Beauragard answered calmly. “This kind of economic destruction is like nuclear weapons, fallout and all. It will be devastating”

  “I wonder where the Russian capital is these days?” Molly thought out loud. Moscow had fallen two years into the war. Red Square was now part of the spreading darkness.

  “Vladivostok was our best guess.” Beauragard had a dreamy sound to his voice for a minute, as he had just been transported there. “They are not offering up that information freely, I’m afraid.”

  “That would be the Russians I know.” Molly remembered her trip to interview Putin. She had stayed at the magnificent Lotte Hotel in the glittering part of downtown Moscow.

  “Yes, you interviewed Putin didn’t you?” Beauragard seemed to enjoy the diversion. “I dare say you put him on the spot.”

  “I was pretty blunt with him.” Molly remembered with a sudden, huge flash of a smile. “Just before the interview I found three bugging devices in my hotel room.”

  “You are kidding me.” Beauragards surprise was in his voice. “What did you do?”

  “I took them with me to the interview and gave them to him.” She delivered the news like a punch line. “The man has no sense of humor.”

  Beauragards uproarious laugh almost deafened Molly, it was a release. He was at ease, calm in the darkest of times. She couldn’t help but laugh along. My god, were we all just tired or has the world taken this much out of us?

  “Lady, who the hell are you talking to?” Molly abruptly looked up to see a figure in the doorway. He was the one who was always with the commander, Hojo, she had heard his name once.

  “I am speaking with the very honorable General John C. Beauragard.” Molly clicked the speaker on her phone. Well, this was going to be good. “General, are you there?”

  “Indeed, Miss Hunter.” The general hardened his voice for show. “Where are your manners, sir? You are interrupting a polite conversation between the lady and myself.”

  “I’m sorry sir....” The man snapped to attention. Yes, Molly almost laughed, he just snapped to attention to a phone.

  “Sir, you will apologize to the lady.” The general ordered.

  “Yes sir,” Hojo had recovered slightly and looked at Molly. “I am sorry, ma’am that I interrupted your conversation with the General.”

  “Not at all,” Molly had to flutter her eyes. Damn, my sister gets to order guys around like this all the time. Suddenly the upside of military life presented itself. Maggie would give ‘em hell, too. She concluded.

  “Miss Hunter, I do enjoy our conversations.” The General complimented her.

  “As do I, general,” Molly returned the compliment and truly meant it. You may have been a bit more transparent, but you are still a mystery. But, what the hell are you going to do now
?

  “Sir, I do have some news.” Hojo tested the waters again.

  “What is it, young man?” The general was back to business.

  “The government of Kentucky has stated they will allow us to evacuate all non-combatants and wounded.” Hojo reported in the monotone of army speak. “That would mean you as well, Miss Hunter.”

  “I can’t stay and cover the story?” There was something strange here, her guard was not up. It was aware, however.

  “Actually,” Hojo paused at the door before exiting. “They insisted on you leaving.”

  Molly’s reply to Hojo was a careful nod of her head. As he left the room she inhaled slowly and began to dissect the meaning of the message. Oh, there was something there alright.

  “I’m not sure I like the sound of that, general.” Molly leaned her head back on the cold stone wall beside her cot.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he seemed back to fatalism again. “Just pack your bag. I will have the rest of your things you left behind sent to Washington.”

  “You would do that?” Molly was taken aback. “I thought you would search my belongings for proof I was spying.”

  “Oh, we did that.” He confessed, Molly felt a wide smile break out on her face. “We found nothing. I instructed the ladies who searched your baggage to be discreet.”

  ‘You are too kind, general.” She had to nod her head and her mouth curved upwards..

  “Miss Hunter, there are some advisors of mine who claim you are a spy so I have to treat you that way.” The general’s tone was almost a gentle scolding. “Still, I promise to be nothing less than a gentlemen in your presence.”

  “Why thank you, general.” Molly’s tone was polite as she added. “I am not a spy.”

  “Then kindly explain the military blackberry.” He parried in return, politely, of course.

  “Touche, General Beauragard.” He’s got me on this one. Molly decided to go for coy.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” The laugh was back. “Please tell me you will come back to West Virginia soon.”

  “Of course, I would love to sit and talk with you again.” Molly was being truthful. The reasons for his controversy were more and more evident. “May I brooch a serious subject between us?”

  “Of course,”

  “The contracts, some time we should discuss the contracts.” Molly moved carefully. The fish was on the hook, don’t lose the line. “It is a subject that is raising a great deal of debate about you.”

  “I can understand why.” Beauragard’s voice had changed. He sounded open, amendable. “I have said how proud of a southerner I am, Miss Hunter.”

  “Yes....”

  “I can tell myself that this was a necessity.” Beauragard was traveling down a road of introspection. “But, I can see how this might be viewed by others.”

  “The moral high ground has more than its fair share of slippery slopes, general.” Molly observed.

  “Indeed,” She could almost see him nod his head. “We don’t mistreat these people. They receive housing, protection, food. Please believe me when I say that....”

  “And yet.......” Molly let her two words hang in the air.

  “And yet it does curtail their freedom.” The general was somewhere else now. His voice was thoughtful. “It could be the beginning of a very dark future....of history repeating itself.” He concluded and then after a pause added: “Like you have observed. Slippery slopes.”

  “When we sit down and talk, I promise to be fair.” Molly stated as if her hand was on a bible. “But you might not like all my questions, fair enough?”

  “Very fair,” The General replied and made a promise. “I will have something to discuss with you.”

  “Really?”

  “I think it’s time we amended this.........policy.” He found the word after a second of hesitation. Molly wondered where his conclusion had come from. Was it sincere? Why the magnanimity? Was he playing to the cameras and a broader audience or truly pursuing a policy of change? Perhaps he was a leader who had just accidently started a war and was looking to put on the best possible face. If he was grasping at straws, this might be the one to grab at. Molly knew the hallways of power had a myriad of back doors and secret passageways.

  “I promise to come back very soon.” Molly answered while she considered the political logic that would create change. Even the greatest decisions had a cold calculation about them in the real world.

  Who are you, general? She was back to square one with the man. Hojo re-entered her room. Molly looked at him quizzically.

  “Sorry ma’am.” Hojo was on better behavior this time. “Can you pack up and be ready in five minutes?”

  “Of course.” Molly nodded. “General? I think we’re leaving.”

  “Safe journey, Miss Hunter.” The general spoke politely. “I hope to see you soon.”

  *

  Molly had her Louis Vuitton over her right shoulder as her hiking shoes padded down the concrete passageways. Whatever was going down was going down fast. There was a rumble in the air that turned into a full scale storm of noise. She had heard that thop-thop-thop before. It was one of those massive two bladed helicopters. It was setting down close by.

  “I need to talk to you.” A voice whispered in her ear. It was Hatch. He was suddenly by her side and a grip appeared on Molly’s elbow that was vice-like. He turned her around quickly to face him.

  “Whoa!” Molly flared up. “Who the hell do you think you are.....”

  Hatch raised a sudden and vicious finger to his lips. Molly felt herself on dangerous ground. The look in his eyes was business. Still, she faced him defiantly. There was an odor in his clothes, thick, musty and hard for Molly to put her finger on.

  “I just need you to look me in the eye and tell me something.” Hatch’s voice was a knife edge whisper.

  “What the hell are you...?” Molly reacted again and he silenced her again. Take a deep breath, Molly began to size him up. Black ops, shit, he’s black ops. It came like a warning.

  “I need you to tell be that Bryant did not discuss anything with you.” Hatch’s mouth was twisted into a very strange position. It was a like a gash across his face. His veins were visible on his forehead. Jesus Christ, Molly realized she was afraid.

  “I......what?” Molly whispered. Comprehension failed her.

  “You need to look me in the eye and tell me you and Bryant did not discuss anything.” Hatch spoke slowly this time. He was an inch closer as well. Her elbow had long gone numb from his grip.

  “Bryant and I did not discuss anything.” Molly swallowed slowly and spoke through a cracked voice.

  He stood there for a long second and then nodded. He lowered his head and exhaled, his grip released her elbow and his face began to recede from intensity and anger. After a second, he stepped away, biting his lip and slowly nodding his head.

  “Thank you,” Hatch met her eyes for a second. There was liquidity about them, tears. “Thank you.” He abruptly turned and walked away, his head down low. The musty odor from his clothes hung in the air and vanished like a ghost.

  Jesus Christ, it was like he was going to kill me. Molly felt cold. It took a few more seconds before she resumed her walk down the hallway.

  “As soon as the chopper leaves I want us to take cover inside.” The commander ordered. We need to start conserving our ammunition for the Kentucky National Guard.”

  “Yes sir.”

  A few of the things had actually started slithering under the fence. They were cut down quickly by his troops on patrol. The digging continued all around the fence line. Was this a sign of some kind of intelligence? The commander pondered the thought for a moment then discarded it. Instinct driven by hunger, the animal world’s answer to necessity being the mother of invention, that was probably closer to the truth. Still, it was eerie watching them find a way in.

  For a moment, the commander considered the position of his opposite number from Kentucky. He probably had his people on roof
tops, or on the second floor of boarded up homes or apartments and inside buttoned up in tanks. The sheer number of the things made a ground assault without troop transports impossible. The dead weren’t just his problem. They were a new terrain to the landscape of war.

  “They might just try and starve us out, sir.” Hojo offered as the commander scanned the houses in the distance.

  “That thought had occurred to me, Hojo.” The commander said pensively as he lowered his binoculars. Maybe the dead would bring back siege craft into warfare again. Was this progress or a slow step backward into the mists of history?

  The front door of the building swung open and the first stretcher with Hodges appeared. His face was a passive mask, leaving like this was emotional. A bond had been formed and now it was briefly breaking. It was like a close family parting ways. He seemed to avoid eye contact. Birk appeared a few seconds later as he and an orderly from the helicopter carried the stretcher of Sergeant Ubaid. She had been stabilized for the journey and was sedated. A coarse woolen blanket hid the new bandages on her back.

  Then there were three people from the helicopter. The pilot, co-pilot and their CO came out in single file. The officer had his hands in his pockets and his head down. The motley crew of guards and an aging nurse were next. They had been no trouble and had kept to themselves. Molly Hunter appeared after them with a walk that let everyone know she owned the world. Her pace was slower than usual. When the commander looked in her direction Molly averted her eyes. Her mind seemed occupied.

  The rear of the helicopter opened like a giant mouth and swallowed them one by one. The passenger windows betrayed their shadows inside. The commander slowly walked toward the chopper as dust and debris danced about his boots from the chopper blades.

  “Birk.” The commander called out as a familiar figure appeared on the ramp of the chopper entrance.

  “Yes sir,” Birk looked up immediately.

  “I want you to accompany our wounded back to the hospital and ensure their safe release to West Virginia.” The commander ordered, he paused and considered other possible angles. “You have also been caring for our people. You can fill the orderlies in on their condition.”