Catalyst (Book 3): Ghost Country

by Franks, JK

  Unbeknownst to the girl, a lone face watched through a small window. It was a face devoid of compassion but not a cruel face…not exactly. Tears made wet trails down the face. Soon, the face said before disappearing. “Suffering is surviving in this world,” he whispered.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Harris Springs, Mississippi

  His boots fell heavily against the metal steps, one side still landing harder than the other. It had been weeks, but the knee was still more painful than he wanted to admit. He refused to use the crutch except here in the refinery building. It was a vulnerability, a weakness, some insecurity that he refused to even acknowledge. The truth was, that ordeal had been a wake-up call to him. It was a much closer brush with death than he cared to admit.

  “One more batch done, Chief.”

  “Thanks, Scoots, I guess that’s it until we get more.” They had processed all the waste oil they could find. The stuff worked great, no difference that they could tell, from any other diesel. The Navy guys had all been impressed, but…it wasn’t enough. Not even by half. Still, the tanks on the AG now had enough to probably get to Costa Rica, but it would be close. No coming back, though, not unless they found more. “Go ahead and shut it down, and I’ll get the last of it pumped into the ship.”

  He hated to tell Scott and Todd they were coming up short, but the refining process was not as efficient as he and Tahir had estimated. That, and a lot of the old, used oil they’d found had been contaminated with seawater from the flooding. The AG needed more, the Navy was nearly out. Some tough decisions were about to be needed. Bartos was glad he wasn’t the one making them.

  “Commander Garret,” Scott said, shaking the man’s hand. “Welcome aboard.”

  The career Navy man had not been on the AG since his crew had helped tow it here two years earlier. “It’s looking good, guys, y'all have done admirable work. I hear congratulations are in order, Scott. Wonderful news!”

  The conference room was half full. The meeting was meant to be small with only the essential people involved. Skybox, Scott, Todd and Bartos. Both of the Garret’s were present as well as one of the naval engineers, Rollins, and a new man, someone they’d never met. He was in fatigues and introduced himself as Major General Daly of the Marine Corp.

  Commander Garret jumped into the conversation full speed as was his habit. “Let me get to it. The Bataan is going to have to pull out. We simply don’t have the fuel to stay on station. We are nearly out of avgas and Jet-A for the birds, and our diesel tanks will be sucking air within the month.”

  This wasn’t news as much as it was a known inevitability. Scarce resources had been a fact of life since the blackout. Scott broke in, “We could offer you some of our diesel, but your man already stated it wouldn’t make much difference.”

  The commander nodded, “Thanks Scott, we appreciate the gesture but know you have plans for that. Plans we would love to be a part of, but it's not looking too good.” He sighed deeply. “We potentially could take from other vessels, but the whole fleet is running extremely low.”

  Skybox spoke up, “What about the SOR, sir?”

  The older Garret leaned back and scratched at the two-day beard around his jawline. “It’s an intriguing consideration, Commander, I’ll give you that. One of our other ships has done recon on some of the fields in Texas and Louisiana. They all seem intact. That is crude, though, and even if we could access it, we’d still need to refine it. Your man’s setup won’t work for that.”

  Bartos shook his head, “No, that’s right, needs more of a full refinery for that.”

  The Strategic Oil Reserves were the nation’s emergency supply. The 727 million gallons were mainly stored in large salt dome caverns around the Gulf Coast, primarily in Texas and Louisiana. Garret passed around a few aerial shots, “Our beloved president seems to believe these are hers, not the nation’s. She has positioned troops at every location. I’m afraid that damn woman may have finally found a way to cripple us. If we attack, they might even blow the fields just to keep us from getting them.”

  “So, we can’t easily get to the supplies, and even if we could, we have no real way of processing it,” Scott said, realizing he had basically just restated the obvious. “If we don’t get fuel, you and the Bataan have to pull out of here, and…we may not have enough to leave. Well, shit…”

  Garret laughed, “Come on, Montgomery. This is where you whip something brilliant out. An idea none of us have even considered.”

  Scott grinned uncomfortably now that everyone was looking at him, “I got nothing.”

  He could feel the clock ticking, He had to come up with something to get more fuel. He and Bartos had discussed going farther out to find waste oil, but the few attempts to do so had been failures. The tanks they found were already dry or so badly contaminated as to be worthless. Biodiesel was already a big thing when the world went dark, Bartos had told him. They had just gotten lucky that most of the oil dumps around Harris Springs didn’t get picked up as often.

  Skybox sat across the table from him. “Scott, this is bigger than just us. You know if the military runs out of fuel they are finished—the country will be, too. It’s not just the Navy. The Army, Air Force and all the rest will fall like dominos. She can starve them all into submission.”

  “So, what can we do, man? I mean, where are they getting fuel from? Could you check with your associates?” Scott was desperate for ideas.

  “No idea, but I imagine they have vast reserve tanks at the protectorates. Those would likely be some of the most heavily guarded places in the country though.”

  Since getting to know the Praetor commander, Scott had learned some of his ways. He was pretty sure he knew this look. Skybox was holding something back. “But, you have an idea—right?”

  Skybox fanned the Navy’s aerial photos across the table and nodded, “I do, but…you aren’t going to like it.”

  Chapter Sixty

  Skybox was right.

  “You’re insane. Not just a little. I mean a lot.”

  Skybox laughed, “But other than that, you’re ok with it?”

  “Hell, no, I’m not ok. Give all our fuel to the Navy and Army to plan a sneak attack on the one location you feel is the least protected?”

  In truth, the plan was more complicated than that, and the frontal attack was only one part of the man’s plan. Scott looked at the photos again. “You’re sure these are the ones?”

  “Yep, I confirmed it with Rollins, and he confirmed with the higher-ups at Naval Intelligence, the guys who study aerial surveillance for a living. I also had Tahir see if he could get us some real-time satellite recon in the area.”

  “The smaller tanks contain diesel…refined diesel?”

  Skybox nodded.

  “And these are not part of the SOR, but you still want to attack the garrison guarding the nearby oil reserves?”

  “You got it.”

  Scott leaned back, mouth agape, staring up at the ceiling. “Sky, it’s crazy, our people here will have me shot if I give away the only potential way of escape for…for this.” He picked up the photo and dropped it again. “Fuck.” The bad thing was, he knew Commander Garret would be all for it. The Navy was just as desperate as they were.

  Skybox leaned over, “Scott, its survival, maybe not just of the country either.” He straightened up and stretched. “Sometimes, Brother, you just gotta play the long game.”

  “Well, it wasn’t easy convincing them, but the Army is in. A colonel from Fort Benning is sending a small armored battalion as well as some of their Rangers to help us on the ground. They did say this will likely use all the fuel they have left, so this will be an all or nothing gambit for all of us.”

  The younger Garret’s briefing was on behalf of his dad who was effectively the fleet commander now. Everyone was a bit more comfortable with the lieutenant, so the meeting was informal and relaxed. And then, it wasn’t. “Ok, from this point forward, the mission details don’t leave this room. Dea
l?” They all nodded.

  It had been decided that Scott would not be going on this mission, nor would Bartos, despite his expertise possibly being needed. Instead, Skybox had tapped DeVonte, Todd, Scoots and several others for the mission. The contingent from the AG was necessary for several reasons. One was to have enough ‘skin in the game’ to justify getting a share of the captured diesel, but the other was harder for Scott to deal with. Jack and Todd knew the area. They both were raised not far from there, and Jack had traded with a nearby survivor camp for much of the past two years.

  The mission plans had been refined, but it was essentially what Skybox had drawn up at the table a week earlier. The Army was sending their armored units by sea on a large cargo hauler made just for that purpose. They would do a night insertion at two locations. Most of the Army Rangers as well as Navy SEAL teams would be airdropped, something the lieutenant had called an MFF from far out to sea. Presumably, they would free-fall down and glide nearly fifteen miles to the target coordinates. A smaller group made up of both teams was going to get in close for recon and hopefully disarm any booby-traps or explosives around the oil tanks. Skybox was leading this last group.

  “Any troop strength estimates?” Scott asked.

  “From what we can tell, probably around 400 men guarding the facility. That may not be the real problem, though. We have reason to believe they have deployed a lot of tech around these holding tanks. They have to know we will make a run for them.”

  “But they are all centered around the crude storage here,” Todd pointed at the large, squat, white tanks on the photo.” He then moved his finger a short distance below, “But our real target is these?”

  “Yep, those are commercial tanks, one of the commercial refineries is nearby and stores fuel there for local distribution. It just happens to be relatively close to the SOR field. While the main attack is there, we are going to try and tap this baby and drain it dry.”

  “Why not just sneak in and do that without all the rest?” DeVonte asked, clearly nervous about playing soldier.

  The younger Garret looked at him, “That, my friend…is an excellent question. First, draining it will not be fast, it will probably take eight hours or more, and the tanker we will be using is not going to be easy to hide. Secondly, we couldn’t get the Army’s buy-in unless we went for the SOR. They want those reserves, and to be honest— they want just as badly to make sure the president doesn’t have them. For that reason…” he paused, seemingly hesitant to say the rest.

  He took a swallow of water from the icy pitcher. “For that reason, we are also going to be launching Tomahawk cruise missiles at several of the other facilities.”

  Scott was the first to object, “That’s crazy, LT—I mean, Republican Guard in Kuwait kind of crazy. Other than just losing the oil, it will be an ecological disaster. What’s the point?”

  The Navy man shook his head, “Doesn’t matter, we don’t get a vote. It is going to happen.”

  Tahir was leaned back with his eyes closed, “If the point is to keep the oil away from the president, why not just launch the cruise missiles at her location?”

  Silence filled the small room; it too was a good question. A damn good question. “We…don’t know where she is,” Lt. Garret said. “No one has reliable information on her.”

  Tahir tapped a finger on the table. “I can find her. In fact, I am pretty sure I can. In fact…” he paused. “Do you have bunker-busters in your ordinance?”

  Garret seemed a bit stunned, “Yes, we have the AGM-65Es.”

  “Probably going to need several,” Tahir said. “Let me get to work and see what I can do.”

  “Tahir, I will need proof. Concrete evidence to take to the C.O. for that—you understand.”

  “Oh, yes, sure…sure.”

  The part of the plan that Scott hated most stood before him now. “Why you guys?”

  Jack just laughed, “We’ve been through this, Scott. I know the area, I know the locals. We’ve traded with ‘em.”

  The SOR target location in West Hackberry, Louisiana, was indeed familiar to them. The small group of survivors near there had been through a lot, and the assistance from the AG had kept them going over the last winter. Jack’s was the face they knew and trusted.

  “It’ll be fine,” he continued. “Me and Todd and the kid are taking the Marco Polo and a few supplies just like a normal trading mission. Just going to do some poking around while I’m there.”

  Scott shook his head, “You remember the last time you did that, don’t you? We ended up in a war.”

  “Well, shit, Brother…much simpler this time because we know we are going to have one. Look, man, my job is to make sure we can win it.”

  “Damnit, I don’t like it. You are going in there with no backup. No weapons even,” Scott said, his frustration growing.

  “Well, weapons are outlawed now; if we get stopped by the boys-in-black, that might be a death sentence,” Todd added.

  Scott shook his head again, “Travel is also illegal, you hard-headed bastard. Why did y’all volunteer for this?”

  Jack placed a meaty hand on his friend’s shoulder, “You know why, Scott.”

  Scott looked at Jack, “You’ve done enough, man. Let someone else carry the load this time. I don’t know what you think you are making amends for, but enough self-sacrificing.”

  “Brother, we need that fuel. I’ll be careful, but face it, this is the end of days.” Jack sighed and looked at the other two. “We really have no choice. I love you guys and this community, we’ve been through a lot…lost a lot, but we can have a future if this crazy ass plan works.”

  Chapter Sixty-One

  She pulled him close and kissed him deeply. “Something is coming between us, love,” he said. They both looked down at the still small, but growing, baby-bump.

  “Thank you for not going.”

  “Not going on what?” Scott asked innocently.

  “The thing…the whatever stupid thing you guys have cooked up this time. Just…thanks.”

  He nodded at his fiancée. “Well, we do have a wedding to plan. Priorities, you know—save the world or keep my girlfriend happy.”

  Something flashed across Gia’s face, and then she softened and smiled, “You chose wisely. So…about this wedding. Have you asked him yet?”

  “No, just hasn’t seemed like the right time, but I will.”

  “Hurry it up, Mr. Montgomery. We have lots to do before then. Invitations to mail out, have to get gift registries done, and oh yeah, honeymoon plans. Clock’s ticking….tick-tock.”

  He laughed, thinking of the expense and spectacle her first wedding was, his had been as well. None of that really mattered, and despite this being a real event for the AG, it was still going to be a simple affair. They just wanted to be man and wife. They had spent most of the morning together planning the nuptials. It was a rare luxury for the two of them as she’d had to be at the labs more than ever now. The treatments were trickling in, and about half those aboard had already received the vaccine. Gia had been right when she said the Navy would want to take care of its own first. He knew she had been battling the fleet medical officer on their behalf. Wars within wars, he thought.

  “Are you even listening?”

  “Um, yeah, hon. I am,” he lied.

  She knew she had him, “Okay, then which one?”

  Fuck… “The second one,” he guessed.

  She shook her head, “What’s wrong?”

  Scott shrugged, “As my mom used to say…it’s a little bit of a whole lot. I am putting people at risk, maybe all of us. If this mission fails, we may all be screwed, and worst of all, Jack is going to be out there on the pointy end of the stick again.”

  “And you think you should be out there with them…right?”

  “Gia, I just gave all our fuel away as our part in all this.”

  “Still not going to tell me what it’s about?” she asked coyly.

  “Can’t, sorry. Not even to you.�
��

  She sighed, “Fine, ok, music is done. You picked number two, ‘It’s the End of the World as We Know It.’ Good choice, I always liked REM.”

  “Ugh,” he dropped his head into the palms of his hands.

  Several hours later, Scott finally admitted he had no idea what he liked, had zero taste in food, flowers, music and most of the other ‘apparently’ important things in life. All according to his lovely bride-to-be. He ultimately relinquished all control to her for the ceremony, vows and anything else she might possibly ever want. She grinned happily at him for being ‘so reasonable.’

  Tahir yelled from three rooms away, “I found something! Woot-woot! I got you now!”

  “Did he just say woot-woot?” Gia asked.

  “He likes to appear reserved.”

  Tahir came through the office door, “She’s at...”

  “She who?” Gia asked, looking at Scott accusingly.

  “Oh.” Tahir looked embarrassed. “Sorry, thought you were alone.”

  Scott shrugged, “It’s fine, what did you find?”

  The young man nodded as he turned the laptop for Scott to see.

  “What am I looking at?” The scene was an animation, something more like a NASA animation than anything else he could think of. “What is this, it looks like….”

  “Orbital trajectories, yes, yes.” Tahir grinned.

  “What does that have to do with the president’s location?” Scott glanced at Gia who looked even more confused.

  “This satellite is not on any official roster, but is obviously one of our birds, and it is still active. I’ve been trying to get in, but none of my codes from DHS, DARPA or any of the other old alphabet agencies are working. What I can tell, though, is where it is getting positioning instructions from.”

  “So, it is a communications satellite?” Scott asked.

  His friend shook his head. His olive skin taking on a greenish cast in the harsh fluorescent lighting. “No, much too large. I believe it is military, it would have to have been launched in secret.”