Burning Skies (Book 2): Fallout

by Druga, Jacqueline

  Louise would get there, Cal was certain.

  She wasn’t his only patient on this day. Cal had a third of the floor. Nearly twenty of his patients had to be aided in eating.

  Louise was always first and foremost. He fed her even when she fought him on it. He made sure she ate and had water. If he couldn’t be by her side, he had Ricky or Jake be there. When of course, they weren’t out making runs, looking for supplies. As soon as they could, they went out.

  Cal was envious. Even though he was getting better, he still lacked a lot of strength.

  On this day, he washed and smelled fresh. He sported the cap that Jake had found for him and wore a clean shirt.

  Louise noticed and said he “smelled good” but wasn’t feeling much for food. A few sips of water and she forced a smile of gratitude as Cal moistened her lips.

  She wanted to try to sit up, but Cal asked her to wait one more day.

  “Will I make it one more day?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Cal replied. “You made it this far, right? You’re strong. You’ll beat this thing.”

  “What’s going on out there, Cal?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “With the attacks. What’s going on? Who did this?”

  Cal opened his mouth to reply but stopped. He didn’t know. He honestly didn’t know. In fact, he hadn’t thought of the logistics of what had happened and who did what. His knowledge of what occurred was limited to what was happening in that gym. He was certain he didn’t want to know and didn’t want to face that reality yet. Because if things were that bad in the little West Virginia middle-of-nowhere high school gym, he couldn’t imagine how bad it was everywhere else.

  Chapter Ten

  San Antonio, TX

  A wonderful warm meal was served on the plane and Madeline sipped on an alcoholic beverage which calmed her nerves. She had no idea where she was even after they landed. She had sat on the plane hours after they landed until it was night and had then been escorted out and placed in a windowless room off a large hanger. There inside was a cot, fresh towels, a change of clothes that consisted of tan drawstring pants and a long sleeve T-shirt. In the room was a small powder room with running water. A notebook and pen set on the folding TV tray table next to a lamp. It was simple, plain, and she was in that room for days. The only human contact she had was twice a day when they brought her a meal.

  Then finally, they came for her. It was the first time she had seen daylight in a while and her eyes hurt and had to adjust. They placed her in a car with heavily tinted windows and when she arrived at her destination, she learned the location.

  Had it been a mistake?

  She wasn’t expecting her final stop.

  Madeline knew it to be one of the finest, if not the finest hotel in San Antonio. They rushed her from the door into the hotel. The lobby had extremely high ceilings, tall windows, and white square pillars. The green block carpet mixed with marble set off the eloquent furnishings.

  Immediately she was placed on an elevator and taken to the highest floor. She paused before entering the room. She may have been stepping into a grand hotel, but the brand-new, shiny lock added to the exterior of the door told her she was to make no mistake, she was still a prisoner.

  The soldier nudged her into a huge suite with a window overlooking the city

  A timid housekeeper stepped forward. She was American.

  “Madam President.” She nodded. “They have taken the liberty of providing you with suitable clothing. You will find them in the closet and dresser. Should sizes be an issue, let us know.”

  “Who?” Madeline asked. “Who is doing this?”

  “Enjoy your stay. I will check back tomorrow. I am to tell you, someone will be here in an hour to speak to you.”

  “Who? Who, dear?”

  She rushed out, and the soldier followed. The door closed, and Madeline heard them locking it. Just to double check, she tried the handle, it wouldn’t budge.

  The conveniences were there and Madeline took advantage. She showered, scrubbing her skin until it was sore. She found an outfit that fit, and when she emerged from the dressing area, she was greeted by a younger Asian woman, well dressed with a staunch demeanor.

  “American President,” she said. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am agent Fen Shu, I am the head of the organization that is much like your CIA.”

  “I am surprised they sent an agent. I would expect a military leader or ambassador.”

  “Why is that?” Fen asked. “I am in charge and overseeing all ground base operations. I am the ambassador, if you will.” She paced slowly, her hands folded behind her back. “You are wondering now why you are where.”

  Madeline nodded.

  “We are not savages. You are a leader and deserve fitting accommodations. But you are in our custody.”

  “A prisoner of war,” Madeline said.

  “How can you be a prisoner of war?” Fen asked. “What war?” She walked to the large window in the living room of the suite. “Look out. It’s a beautiful day. I see no signs of war.”

  “Maybe not here.” Madeline walked near her. “Out there are signs. Cities hit with nuclear bombs. Your soldiers with a massive land invasion.”

  “Yes, we have arrived, but we didn’t start this thing.”

  “The hell you didn’t.”

  “The hell we did,” Fen argued. “Your people did. Your people opened the door when they decided to divide the country, to render it powerless, even just briefly. That act of terror was an invitation. One we took. And we are here to make things right.” Fen walked away from the window.

  “Why did you take me?”

  “You were communicating outside the country. We tracked that signal. You also are the leader. How can you lead two hundred feet underground? To me, and many others, it was as if you were hiding? What leader hides?”

  “I had no choice.”

  “There is always a choice. You have a choice now. Your country is crumbling. We can only do so much to help you. Many are injured, starving, homeless. Is this the country you want to lead? A good leader knows when it is time to step back. Madam President, this is your opportunity to show the world what kind of leader you really are.”

  “I don’t understand,” Madeline said.

  “Actually, I believe you do. You just don’t realize it yet.” Fen walked across the room, toward the door. She paused at the television. “You may turn this on. You can see what other countries are saying. You can see footage we are taking for you. Please, enjoy. Life shall be easy for you in here, unlike out there.”

  “Then let me out,” Madeline said.

  “We will. When you make the choice.”

  “Aw, yes, the choice,” Madeline said sarcastically. “The one I am supposed to know about. Spit it out, Ms. Shu. What do you want from me?”

  “Simple.” After a pause, Fen replied, “Your surrender. You need to surrender your country. You need to do what’s best. Now is your time to shine. Watch the television. Think about it. You’re not going anywhere until you do.” She opened the door and smiled. “Good day.”

  Madeline didn’t even know where to begin. Surrender? It seemed absurd to her to surrender, to give up the fight before they even had a chance to engage.

  Madeline wasn’t ready to give up the country, not yet. Not until she knew for sure and without a doubt that it was the only option.

  Holly River Base, WV

  The flyer was slightly crumbled and damp when Troy put it on the table before Gus. “I saw this. I’m hoping this isn’t just a fishing tournament.”

  “It’s not,” Gus said.

  “Good. I got about forty men hiding in the woods, waiting to know if this is safe.”

  “It’s safe.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Troy gave a nod of respect, turned, and walked out.

  The management cabin of the vacation area was the first check point for those joining the rebellion and cause. Two men worked there constantly,
one behind the counter and the other in the backroom, headphones on, monitoring messages sent via Morse Code.

  If anyone arrived, such as the man who identified himself as Troy, whoever was at the desk would sound off a moose horn. The noise would carry through the valley and either Gus or Steve would make their way up the one-mile path.

  When Troy arrived, he showed his military ID. He was still in uniform but looked worse for wear. Dirty, bruised, and tired. After he walked out to retrieve his men, Gus told the check in man, “Send them down. I’ll get them situated and acclimated.”

  “Got it. We didn’t unpack the truck of tents yet,” the young man said.

  “We’ll get to it.”

  Holding that crinkled flyer, Gus headed back to base. He could hear the sound of running water, but very few voices. No loud sounds were permitted; they were under the radar and wanted to stay that way.

  Steve had made it half way up the path as Gus walked back.

  “Everything okay?” Steve asked.

  Gus handed him the flyer. “Another forty on their way down. These ones all soldiers as well.”

  “Christ, Gus, where we gonna put them?”

  “We have enough room. We’ll figure it out. Besides, I want to move the first group out.”

  “Where to?”

  “Something easy. Obtainable victory so we can keep momentum.”

  “Proc Checkpoint. Breezewood?” Steve asked.

  “That’s what I’m thinking. We’ve waited long enough. It’s time …” Gus said. “It’s time we start the fight.”

  Bern, Switzerland

  Russian President Petrov initiated the meeting, called all the leaders personally, and accepted Switzerland’s invitation to host.

  A part of him should have known better. The joke about Switzerland being neutral wasn’t just a joke, it did have merit behind it.

  Petrov was in one of the fortunate countries. He was able to keep it together and amped up the military presence before things went awry.

  The summit was more of a meeting, a large conference table with only a few countries in attendance. China did not show and they continued to deny any wrong doing.

  Petrov, along with the leaders of Great Britain, Australia, and Canada offered documentation to the others in the room. Information they were already aware of.

  The point of the meeting was to collectively decide what could be done. Clearly the events in the United States were affecting the global community.

  After three hours of discussing the situation, when they returned from a short break, it was over before Petrov knew it.

  Everyone voiced their concerns.

  “And what does this have to do with us?” asked Switzerland.

  “We will have humanitarian aid, but no more than that,” said Japan.

  “There’s no reason, if China has taken over, that we cannot work the same deal as we did with United States,” said Germany.

  The general consensus was … it was a new order, and let it go.

  The responses were echoed around the room and as they filed out one by one, Petrov wanted more than anything to storm out. But he didn’t. He stayed. Wallowing in that room in defeat and an abundance of worry.

  It seemed everyone had their own problems, which were valid, and they couldn’t be bothered, nor did they have the energy or resources to deal with what was happening in the United States. They all seemed to want to take the path of least resistance and damage. What would end the crisis soon. What would put everything back on the right path?

  It was understandable, no one ever really wanted to have a military interference. But sometimes, it was necessary.

  As Petrov stayed in the room, he was surprised when the door opened and Prime Minister Winslet along with the prime minister of Canada stepped inside.

  He knew why they walked in, or at least hoped he did. He felt a sense of relief when he saw their faces.

  “Please don’t think I’m abandoning your efforts,” Winslet said. “I’m not. I am just trying to do what’s best for my country.”

  Petrov nodded. “So am I.” He shifted his eyes to the Canadian prime minister. “And you are here, why?

  “This situation affects us very much.” The Canadian prime minister said. “It is too close. We will do what we can to aid you and assist you in whatever endeavor you decide. But we ask that in exchange for our participation, you wait until our intel comes in.”

  “What intel would that be?” asked Petrov.

  “We have people in there. But we cannot reach them. We are sending teams in to find out what is going on. To get an in-depth look.”

  “That I can agree to,” said Petrov.

  “May I ask,” said Prime Minister Winslet, “while I realize the urgency in the situation, there seems to be a rush to get a decision. A good offense is planning. Is it because of the food shortage now?”

  “It is not the food,” Petrov answered strongly. “Do you not get it? At all? Yes, they are now controlling sixty percent of the world’s food supply, that is troublesome. But more so, they are now in control of the second biggest nuclear arsenal in the world. I cannot have that. The world cannot have it. Can you?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Holly River Base, WV

  It looked like the classic version of the old school game Stratego. Little flags set up on a map. But instead of a generic landscape it was a topography map of the United States. It was spread out on a table, with Gus center of it all, Steve to his right and a few military men joined.

  “Right now, we know of nineteen camps,” Gus said. “There are probably more but this is all we can confirm.”

  “Here’s the problem,” Troy said. “Once you hit any of them, the others are going to go on high alert.”

  “That’s why we are going to have to hit as many as we can at the same time,” Gus replied.

  “Can we coordinate that?” Steve asked.

  Gus nodded. “I believe we can. We don’t need the manpower, it can be done quietly if done correctly.”

  “Infiltrate?” Troy asked. “Two, three people on the inside.”

  Gus moved his finger down to the map. “Exactly. Two or three on the inside, get us intel, get us in. If we do this at the right time, we only need a few good snipers to take out the guards, and the detainees can walk right out the door. That many people, they don’t have enough soldiers to hold them back.”

  “Which begs an answer to the next question,” Steve said. “What are we going to do with all these people. Here … Caldwell.” He touched the map. “Thousands of people. Most of them displaced as it is, lost their homes, we open the fence, they walk out, then what? What are they going to do? To be honest, they’re being fed and cared for in that prison. Freedom is a good incentive but so is living.”

  “The United States is huge,” Gus said. “There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of small towns not even on the radar of the Procs. We get them there. Spread the word.”

  “We’d have to get the towns on board first,” Steve said. “Find them. Secure them, before we even liberate the camps and lead the detainees there.”

  “Then what?” Troy asked. “We get them there. Then what? Convince them to fight with us?”

  “I don’t think that will be a worry,” said Gus. “This country was under attack, their homes were destroyed, family members lost, dead. After all that and then being taken prisoner, I don’t think they’ll say, ‘thank you’ and walk away. I think they’re gonna say to us, ‘what do you need us to do?’ They’ll fight,” Gus stated assuredly. “Once we get enough people that are over the shell shock and standing up for themselves, we’re gonna see a whole different war unfold.”

  Dallas, Texas

  It was the seventh hospital General Liu had visited in just a few days. Dragging his aide around with him. He was grateful for the aide, Sergeant Huang. While Liu was quiet around him at first, Huang had not betrayed Liu or turned him in for veering from mission.

  His mission went from rest
ructuring effort on paper, to a humanitarian one that wasn’t acknowledged or allowed.

  He, in a sense, had become a rebel

  It wasn’t that he didn’t love his country or didn’t want it to be victorious, he just wanted to play fair. Granted, war wasn’t fair, but part of the thrill of victory was like in the game of chess, to champion your opponent through skill and strategy. If the current war was truly likened to the game of chess, then the United States entered the game missing several pieces including their queen. They were at a severe disadvantage. One China basked in.

  It wasn’t as if the general never thought of war with the United States, he had. In his ideal scenario, China had won the war over fear of might and disaster through financial ruin. Not fear of disease and disaster through stolen opportunities brought on by cowards who wished to overthrow their own government. When he thought back to that, to those men and women who planned to do their own liberation of their country, he wondered if they thought it through.

  Sure, it was easy to bring a big man to his knees, but what if he did not stay down.

  Liu believed the United States would not stay down, until he saw the sickness. It had spread faster than he imagined and it wasn’t only Americans affected. He had received reports that Chinese soldiers and health care workers were lying in cots next to Americans.

  And Fen Shu … she had avoided him. She had not taken his calls nor was she ever at the meeting place. But he lucked out. While visiting Dallas, he had heard she was at a detention camp, and without announcing his arrival, General Liu sought out Fen.

  “We are sure she is here?” Liu asked Huang.

  “Yes, sir. My contact with her camp has said as much,” Huang replied.

  “You’re a good man.”

  Liu meant those words. It was obvious to him that Huang was a seasoned veteran who had as much love for China as Liu did. Huang refrained from saying anything that could be considered treason, such as negative statements about the war. But Liu gauged how he felt. Huang was an ally and fast becoming the only friend he had in the foreign land.