by John O'Brien
Barely noticing the carpet beneath her bare feet, she runs down the central hallway continuing to call out their names, hoping for an answering shout. The house remains silent except for her calls reverberating off of the pale, yellow walls and the soft pad of her feet on the floor, filling the space between shouts. She runs to the basement and, throwing open the door, she shouts into the dark area beneath the house; the light from outside sending a single streamer of light across the room and onto the concrete floor. No answer returns.
Closing the basement door, she turns toward the front door and notices the broken front window. What happened there? She thinks with an increased panic feeling. Did someone break in and take her kids? She reaches out for the front door handle, feeling hesitant about opening it and confused as to why. The feeling of panic overrides the why and her fingers close around the knob.
A veil closes over her mind like a mist seeping inland from the sea. The panic feeling is instantly erased and the picture images return. Those images convey confusion as to why she is away from her sleeping place. Her skin begins to tingle from the radiated light leaking in from the window. The panic feeling from before, although forgotten, is replaced by another seeing the light and feeling her skin itch and prickle. She has the feeling she was about to go outside into the pain of the daylight and cannot figure out why. She dashes across the partially lit room and up the stairs. Finding her dark room once again, she curls up on the floor and falls asleep.
* * * * * *
I turn back to the open doors of the armory with the silence settling around us. The doors open into a black hole. The light from outside spills a few yards inside but illuminates only a concrete floor leading into the interior of the mounded-over armory. I must admit there is a hunger of sorts inside me thinking about all of the neat toys that lie within; items that will hopefully give us an edge over the physical advantages the night runners possess. There is no question that we will have to penetrate the domain of the night runners for our short-term supplies so we will have to go in with anything and everything that will give us the best chance at surviving any and all encounters.
“Well, we can do this with goggles or flashlights. What do you think?” I ask Watkins.
“Really, I don’t think it makes a difference here but think maybe we should sweep the place with the goggles first just to be sure,” he answers.
“I agree,” I say. “We only have six plus the helmets. I’ll go in with Red Team. Have Alpha ready with flashlights by the door but keep an eye on the surrounding area. If it’s all clear, we’ll go in together with the flashlights and see what we have here. Have one member back at the truck on the radio.”
“Grab your helmet. You’re going in with us,” I tell Robert.
I will use one of the goggles as I can’t fit the ear piece from the radios inside it and I want to be able to communicate just in case. I’ll have Robert right by my side so I’ll be able to yell at him if I need to. The sound of his boots hitting the paved lane interrupts the silence as he runs back to the Jeep to gather his helmet. Returning, he joins the rest of teams gathered.
“The interior appears to be long and narrow judging from the shape of the hill. Robert and I will be in the front and middle as much as space allows. Henderson and Denton, you cover the right flank, Gonzalez and McCafferty, you have the left. Flankers keep ten feet behind so we all have clear lines of fire in any direction. Keep a watch to the rear so we don’t get blindsided if anything is in here. Watkins, keep your lights on the ground just behind us to help keep an eye on our six. Questions?” I say donning the goggles.
Everyone shakes their head answering. “Okay, let’s lock and load.”
I am eager now that we are at this point. That is coupled with an anxious feeling about entering into any dark place. The experience of past entries doesn’t exactly leave me with warm and fuzzy feelings. Reaching just inside the armory doors to the right, I flick a bank of switches to the upward position. No corresponding lights flicker on with my action. Well, it was worth a try, I think stepping onto the concrete floor of the armory with Robert by my side, his helmet on and goggles up. I settle my goggles into place as I approach the light/dark demarcation line, the light fading quickly from light to gray to a smoky black. The building gives off an oily, metallic smell that only a room full of metal parts has. The room comes alive as my goggles click into place. The once invisible parts of the room shine forth in a green glow. I look over to Robert and see he has lowered his NVG’s as well.
Racks of weapons line the walls to the left stretching back into the room. To the right, cases are stacked on shelving units with crates lining parts of the wall. In the center of the armory, empty tables stand with small basins set within each - obviously cleaning stations. My vision doesn’t stretch to include the entire length of the room but I don’t immediately see anywhere something could be hiding in wait. I motion Henderson and Denton around to the right side of the tables and start down the center adjacent the tables in the middle. Gonzalez and McCafferty take up station to my left and behind.
We proceed further into the armory, slowly checking every inch until I at last see the rear of the building. Nothing shrieks or jumps out at us. I didn’t expect anything from the locked condition of the building but assuming something can get you or those around you killed. I turn us around and head back to Watkins. Exiting, I look at the vehicles and do one of those face-palm slaps.
“Watkins, can you bring the transport to the entrance and shine the lights inside? That’ll help us see to inventory and gather what we want. I should have thought of that right off the bat,” I say shaking my head with my own stupidity - or at least my own lack of thinking.
“No problem,” he answers and directs Calloway to go get the truck.
I notice the distinct lack of salutations with the exception of towards each other, well, among the enlisted. Can I still call them that? Well, now that I think about it, it is really only gone when addressing me. I certainly don’t mind, just noticed, that’s all.
Calloway drives the truck to the entrance, lighting up the interior with the headlight beams. I have Watkins keep two of Alpha outside to maintain security around us and we head in. Now that I’m not searching for night runners playing hide-and-seek or seeking to serve me up on a plate, I see the treasure trove we have. Lines of M-4s are in racks on the left.
I walk over to one, grabbing it from the rack. Looking at the selector lever, I feel the delight of a kid getting the exact present he wanted at Christmas. It’s an M-4A1 - fully auto with an integrated rail system. Dozens of them line the wall. Looking closer in the light cast by the idling truck, I see they are all equipped with SpectreDR sights. My thrill level increases substantially. These are optics that provide for close range and ranged capabilities. This means this armory has the latest and greatest special ops modules. I turn toward the large cases stored in several of the shelf units. They must contain the remainder of the modules and I hope they are fully equipped. If so, the modules will have suppressors, night vision sights, and infrared aiming devices which are meant to be used with night vision goggles. I set the carbine back in the stand. I want to take it right there and then but choose to keep the one I have for the moment as all of these weapons will have to be sighted in.
“Wow!” Robert says beside me holding one of the carbines.
“Yeah, we kinda struck the mother lode,” I say with a grin.
“Let’s load up all of these,” I say turning to Watkins pointing out the M-4s.
I walk further toward the back along the weapons racks as the soldiers begin carting the M-4s out. Next to the racks of M-4s, I come across two dozen M110s - semi-automatic sniper rifles firing 7.62mm rounds and fitted with 3.5 x 10 scopes. Most of our engagements have been close quarters but I’m not about to turn these beauts down. You never know when something like this will come in handy and it’s not like we are severely limited on space or limited to one overhead bag. I imagine we’ll pretty much clean
this place out.
The rest of the tour has goodies in every location. The large cases do indeed have the module packages for the M-4s and dozens of cases have Gen3 dual eye/dual tube (binocular) night vision goggles along with attachments and batteries. Other cases have M-9s with suppressors. One of the biggest finds, at least in my opinion, were the individual radios with throat mics plus unit radios helpful for transmitting across distances. There are large boxes with ACU, Multi-Cam, and black clothing in a variety of sizes. We also find a multitude of Ranger Green, ACU, Multi-Cam, and black tactical vests complete with a variety of modular attachments. Crates upon crates of ammo for all weapon types are brought out and loaded, including C4 and grenades of all sorts; flash bangs, smoke, tear gas, and your regular, every day blow stuff up types. All in all, there’s everything I imagined and more. We haul everything out, even taking the racks after removing the bolts holding them to the floor, filling the transport truck almost to capacity.
The sun is at its zenith as the last case is loaded. The clang of the truck tail gate closing echoes across the silent enclosure. I call Lynn letting her know we are finished here giving a quick rundown of what we found. She replies that they are about finished with two of the armories and about to head over to gather clothing. We agree to meet back at the aircraft prior to searching for survivors so we can coordinate efforts - making sure to cover everywhere without duplicating efforts.
I feel oddly invigorated rather than the tired feeling I thought I would have. Perhaps due to the stress I feel but that usually makes me feel more tired and have less energy. It could be that there is so much to do and having things to do gives me energy - depending on what it is. It may also be that we have found these great tools that will even things up slightly. It’s not that the things we have found will make the difference or really increase our capabilities much, but there are items that will make it a little easier for us. For one, with our night vision gear, the infrared aiming devices will add to our capability in darkened buildings.
We secure the armory doors and gate, sliding the locks back into place without being able to actually lock them, and climb into our respective vehicles. The area comes to life with sound as the engines are started. Our small convoy begins our drive back to the ramp trying to retrace our route. We only have to turn around once after missing the correct turn to McChord. We finally pull onto the tarmac and park off to the side of the aircraft. The 130 sits on the ramp looking sad and forlorn as if it knows it has completed its last journey but knowing that its final trip was perhaps the most important one in its long life; able to retire with pride.
As I step out of the Jeep, Mike runs out of the back of the aircraft and across the ramp. I squat and put my arms around him as he licks my face, his hind end swaying from side to side. We are bonding well and he acts like I haven’t seen him in months rather than a couple of hours. I stand staring off at the hills of the Cascades waiting for Lynn and the other teams to arrive. The hills are a subdued blue and partially hidden behind a haze. The other nice thing, if one can think of nice things associated with such a loss of human life, is that the air will clear up. I remember looking at those same hills many, many years ago and I could see them with such clarity; able to see the actual trees residing on their slopes. Now, they are just a blur of color.
I begin to feel a touch of impatience just standing here. With all there is to do, standing idly makes me feel like I’m wasting time. I want to be doing something but, honestly, there isn’t anything to be done at this time. I know Lynn is moving as fast as she can and what she is doing is important, but I am eager for her to get here and for us to be off. We still have the search to do. It feels like I am running in molasses - time is passing but I’m getting nowhere. Looking around, my vision settles on the transport truck filled with items looking like Santa’s sleigh. All I need is reindeer to attach to the front.
Time passes slowly and Lynn finally calls that they are finished and on their way. My impatience has increased to the point that I want to start pacing just to do something when I hear the sound of the convoy approaching. The sun overhead passes its highest point and begins its downward trek, beginning the second half of the day, by the time the first of the vehicles enter the ramp. They are all in a line as they transit the ramp and pull up next to the already parked vehicles, shutting down individually as they park in a row. The sound of doors closing resonates in the still of the early afternoon and brings finality to their arrival.
Lynn’s face falls slightly as she looks around the ramp obviously hoping to see Craig’s jet. I feel her heartache and wish I could just make the jet appear. She gathers herself and walks over, giving a rundown of what they found and brought. Her face is streaked with dirt where the sweat has evaporated.
“How do you want to do this?” Lynn asks referring to the search for survivors.
“I think we should head off in teams and assign areas to each one. Have them cruise through their areas slowly, calling out and making noise as best as they can,” I answer.
“I’ll stay here with the others who aren’t assigned to teams in case someone shows up, alerted by our noise,” I continue purposely not adding that I am also staying to wait for her brother and mom.
“Okay, I don’t have a map to go by so I’ll just give general area assignments if that’s okay with you,” she says.
“Sounds good to me. How long do you think it’ll take to cover the entire area with what we have?” I ask.
“I would guess two hours to do it right,” she replies.
“Two hours!? Fuck! Well, it can’t be helped and if we’re going to do it, then we should do it right,” I say with my impatience coming to the front. Lynn shrugs and smiles, not taking it personally, knowing that I am just frustrated. It’s a tight smile but a smile nonetheless.
“Okay, would you mind making the assignments and I’ll just find a rock to go hide under. It’s almost 1300 now so have everyone make sure to be back at 1500. The day is moving on and we need to get to Cabela’s, let alone to get Kelly. I would like to distribute the gear and go to the firing range to sight in the weapons but now I’m not sure we’ll have the time to do that,” I add.
“No prob. I’ll see to it. There’s plenty of light left so we should be okay,” she says.
“I know. I’m just impatient. Sorry. If we have to, we’ll stay one more night in the aircraft but I’d rather not. I would suggest I head down with a couple of teams to clear the building and meeting you there later but the place is huge and we would be too vulnerable searching it with so few of us,” I say just as a light bulb goes off in my head like an explosion of light. I withdraw inside thinking of possibilities, completely oblivious to my surroundings.
“Whatcha thinking?” Lynn asks noticing my withdrawal and bringing me back to the present.
“I was thinking I could take Bannerman, Wilson, and Red Team and just scout the area. We could also take the measurements on the entrance doors and go find some security doors that we’ll be able to mount. I’m thinking of the ones you pull down and lock. We could head over to the armory first and see if those doors might work as well,” I say.
“Sounds like a good plan if you want to do that,” she replies.
“Yeah, I think we’ll do that. I want to head back to the armory to take measurements and see how hard it will be to remove the doors. We’ll then head off to the range to sight in our weapons and meet you at Cabela’s. We’ll be out of radio range so we won’t be able to communicate but call and when you get close.”
“Okay. Don’t you go in without the rest of us there, Jack,” Lynn says looking directly into my eyes.
“I won’t,” I respond.
“I mean it, Jack. I know you so promise me you won’t,” she says keeping the direct eye contact.
“Okay, I promise. We’ll just scout around. We’ll leave you our transport so you can hand out the equipment prior to your heading to the range. I think we should use the weapons and gear we pulled out of
the Special Forces armory. There’s enough to go around ten-fold. Leave a team here on the ramp,” I say.
“Just remember you promised,” she says.
I know. I’ll be good. Just leave us three Humvees.”
“Okay, Jack,” she says and turns, beginning to issue instructions.
“Hey,” I say interrupting her yells.
“What?” Lynn asks turning around.
“I love you,” I say so that only she hears.
“I love you too,” she says. Smiling, she turns and picks up where she left off.
I gather Red Team, Bannerman, Frank, and all of the others who are coming with me - meaning my family, Kathy, Little Robert, Kenneth, and, of course, Mike. I give them a rundown on our plans. I have them follow me to the transport truck and begin issuing gear ensuring everyone has one of the M-4’s and night vision goggles. I also distribute the infra-red aiming units. We sort through the black fatigues and tac vests and head into the aircraft in shifts to change. I issue the gear to Red Team, Bannerman, Wilson, and Robert taking one of each for myself. I gather a few spares, set them in the Jeep, and send Red Team into the open hangars to gather any sets of tools they can find.
I have Nic, Bri, and Michelle also find dark fatigues that fit and head in to change after everyone else finishes. They haven’t changed in some time and I’m sure they would like to regardless of what that clothing may be. While they are in the aircraft, I wave Robert over to join me and we walk over to the base operations building, slinging my new M-4 across my back. I also keep my current one because I know it is sighted in and want it handy just in case something comes up.
The black uniform and vest are soaking up the heat as the sun’s rays stream down. In the shadow of the building and with Robert at my side, I peer in the glass panel set in the door, checking out the hallway beyond. The hallway, as before, is partially lit from the radiated light through the glass panels. Nothing is moving and I open the door. Stepping inside, I look into the weather shop to my immediate left through a sizable pane set in a wooden door. The interior is well-lit from light filtering in through the large windows on the building’s front. The room looks the same as before. A small amount of dust is gathered on the floor. I don’t see any tracks in the dust so know that this room has not been entered since my last visit.
