by Riley Flynn
A man in black opened the door and held it as Colton Raines walked into the room. The president nodded and the man closed it again, leaving the two in the room alone.
Jax saluted and struggled to get to his feet without his cane, which was under his bunk.
“At ease, Captain,” Raines chuckled. “Don’t hurt yourself on my account.”
“Sir. It’s good to see you.”
“And you, son. But you need to stop putting yourself in harm’s way; there aren’t enough of us Texans left these days. America needs all she can get.”
Jax grinned. “Yessir.”
Raines sat on the bed by Jax’s feet. “Seriously, though, that was good work the way you handled the situation with Roth and his men. That comes from Gen. Archer as well. He tells me several people are still with us today because of your quick thinking.”
“Comes with the bars on my shoulders, sir.”
“No it doesn’t, but I’m glad you think it does. That whole thing was FUBAR, from beginning to end. I didn’t know Col. Roth before, but I sure know him now. If someone of his stature can go rogue, it’s a lesson to us all.”
Jax considered that. Was Roth a rogue? He was far from crazy, and in the end, he’d saved Hayley from Malcolm Austin. For that alone, the man would have Jax’s eternal gratitude.
“What was the point of that weapons stockpile, sir? If it’s not above my pay grade.”
Raines smiled. “I don’t know, Jax, but I can tell you I’m going to find out. Taking over as commander-in-chief is a little like being named the CEO of a corporation. There are a lot of moving parts that you’re suddenly in charge of, and it’s daunting as hell. And in a situation like we’re in… All I can say is it’s going to take some time.”
“Of course, sir. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know you didn’t. I think we’re all still feeling our way here. It’s early days in this, and I can’t say we’re even close to coming out the other side. But we’re making strides. And I think you’ve been a big help in that.”
Jax smiled. “I appreciate that, sir.”
“I don’t know if you do,” said Raines. “When I first got here, I was listening to some people who have some very serious opinions about where this new republic needs to be headed. And their points are valid. But the longer this goes on, the more I wonder if we don’t need to start looking at things in a different way.
“Your solution about finding civilians to help with the graves is a perfect case in point. We could have ordered them to do it, but you saw a different way. A better way.”
“It wasn’t just me, sir.”
Raines grinned and shook his head. “All right, maybe not. But you were the point man. And I don’t know if anyone’s told you yet, but ever since word got out about what happened at Schriever, the number of volunteers has gone through the roof. People want to show they’re not like Roth, that they’re on board with what we’re doing. I credit all of that to you.”
Jax looked down at the bed. He was never good at handling praise.
“If you say so, sir.”
“I do say so, and I’m going to say more. I want you to expand your team and double your recruitment efforts once you’re back on your feet. We need to make hay while the sun shines, and right now, it’s shining out of your ass, my boy.”
Jax snorted a laugh and Raines chuckled.
“Will do, Mr. President.”
“Good. And with any luck, I can keep Col. Smith out of your hair as much as possible.” He dropped a wink. “A good leader recognizes when two of his subordinates don’t play well together.”
“Thank you, sir.” Jax wondered just how much of his meeting with Smith had made its way up the pipeline.
Raines stood and knocked on the door. The man in black opened it as the president shook Jax’s hand.
“Get well soon, Captain,” he said. “We need you back at work.”
“Will do, sir.”
“And one last thing…”
“Sir?”
The man in black handed the president a gold box with the words Johnny Walker on the side, and Raines passed it to Jax.
“Stop buying your booze at 7-11, will you?”
***
“I suppose he thinks you did everything,” Ruben said as he knocked back his scotch.
Jax refilled his friend’s cup. “What the president believes is his business. It’s not up to me to change his mind.”
Carly took a swig directly from the bottle of Chateau Margaux she’d liberated from the hotel. Jax saw her toss the cork in the garbage when they walked into the mess hall, so he assumed she was in for the long haul.
“Whatever,” she said. “It’s not like any of us is getting a raise any time soon. I just wonder what Raines and Archer and the others at the top think about what happened.”
“How do you mean?” asked Jax.
“Whatever happened in the end, I don’t think Nick Roth was a bad person. Misguided, maybe, but not evil. I know some people think he did it because he was passed over by Archer, but trust me: I knew him. He wasn’t like that. There had to have been more to it.”
Ruben nodded and leaned in close. “I gotta admit, I didn’t disagree with everything about Roth,” he said in a low voice. “I mean, Smith’s maintain-control-at-any-cost attitude has already led to a lot of deaths, and now isn’t the time for more death.”
Jax agreed, more than Ruben could know.
Carly took another swig of wine and wiped her mouth. “And who are we to say that the military and the president even should be in control? Does the Constitution still apply when 99 percent of the population isn’t around anymore?”
“Careful,” Jax whispered. “Best keep your voice down.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “M’not much of a drinker.”
“She’s not wrong, though,” said Ruben. “To question it, I mean. Look at our Special Forces motto: De Oppresso Liber. It means to liberate the oppressed, not become the damn oppressor.”
Before Jax could respond, he heard a familiar voice from behind him.
“Is this a private party, or can anyone join?”
He turned to see Maggie Stubbs standing in fatigues, arms crossed over her chest. The hair that had been held in a severe bun for so long was now bobbed, hanging just above her shoulders. For the first time, Jax noticed how attractive she was.
“I was going to say army only,” he grinned. “But I guess that won’t keep you out anymore, will it?”
“Nope,” she said, joining them. “As of this morning, I’m Lt. Stubbs. Col. Smith said my experience deserved a commission.” She grabbed an empty cup. “So fill it up with that officer hooch, my good man.”
Carly scowled. “Glad I wasted four years in nursing school to become a lieutenant. Might as well have just got a job and waited for the end of the world.”
Her three companions looked at her for a handful of seconds, then at each other. A moment later they broke into hysterical laughter. Carly looked offended for a heartbeat, then joined in herself.
It had been that kind of week. Hell, it had been that kind of month. Sometimes you just couldn’t help laughing at the collapse of society.
***
“Do you ever think about her?”
Hayley’s head was warm against the crook of his shoulder as the two of them lay in her single top bunk. The rest of the women she shared the room with were out for the evening, leaving them with some time to talk before lights out.
“Your mom?” he asked. “Of course, all the time. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “It seems like it was a long time ago that we were in Germany. So much has happened. I thought maybe you were too busy now.”
He thought about the difference between kid time and adult time—how the weeks leading up to Christmas seemed like years, and how everything starts to speed up the older you get. She was experiencing things at a different pace than he was.
“I’
ll never be too busy to think about Mom, kiddo. Or you.”
She sighed. “Things are so different now. It’s like we went to another planet or something.”
“I know. But at least we still have each other.”
“Yeah. There’s a bunch of new kids in the school who don’t have anybody.”
Jax already knew that; one of his team’s new priorities, in addition to finding gravediggers, was recruiting foster parents for the waves of orphaned children that were starting to emerge. It was already starting to feel like the government of this new republic was well and truly underway.
“Are you going to help them?” he asked.
She turned her head to look him in the eye. Her blond hair was its usual tousled mess. “Help them?”
“Yeah. You have a lot: me and Val and Ruben and Carly. You should always help those who aren’t as fortunate as you. That’s why your mom was a nurse.”
Jax watched the wheels turn as she thought it over.
“But how?” she asked. “What can I do to help them?”
“Make friends with them. Listen to them. I bet some of them have been really scared for a long time now.”
“That’s what Ms. Sidley says.”
“She sounds like a smart lady. Just like your mom.”
They laid there in silence a while before Hayley spoke again. When she did, her voice was small and quiet.
“I was scared, Jax. When Malcolm came to get me, and in that building with—with all the shooting. I was so scared.”
Jax felt his heart crack, but he did his best to keep it out of his voice. This was a new reality, and fear was a luxury that they couldn’t afford, because it could too easily become a silent killer. Not just for Hayley but for everyone.
“I know you were, honey,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “And you faced your fear like a soldier. You were so tough, I asked Col. Smith if I could put you on my team.”
She looked up at him. He was gratified to see her lips curl in a tiny smile.
“You did not.”
“I did, but he said no. You have to stay in school. They need you there. I’ve got a whole team of people, but there’s only one of you.”
“Okay,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I guess I can stay in school, if I have to.”
“All right,” he said. “Time for lights out.”
She lifted her head and he withdrew his arm, then hopped down to the floor, leaving them at roughly eye level.
“Jax?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sort of glad that we didn’t find my grandma and grandpa.”
He frowned. “Why do you say that, honey?”
“Cuz they’re not really my family. I mean my family family. That’s you and everybody here. I think that’s who I’m supposed to be with. Mom made it happen up in heaven.”
Jax felt hot tears sting his eyes, tried to fight them without success. Years of chasing terrorists through godforsaken deserts and he never cried. Less than a month with a defenseless ten-year-old girl and he was a mess.
“I think you’re right,” he croaked. “When you talk to her tonight, make sure you say thank you.”
“You, too,” she said, her own tears streaming down her cheeks.
Epilogue
Dylan Nguyen loved a challenge, and he had a mother of one on his hands.
He’d been recruited by a group of army folks two days earlier to help get Cheyenne Mountain’s computer system back to full strength. It had been crushed by the cyber weapon that had struck right after the Eko pandemic, and Dylan had already been hard at work on it before—well, before.
He fidgeted absently with his wedding ring as he scanned the lines of code on the screen in the central command room. He found the project was an excellent way to keep his mind off of Michelle and his heart from sinking into what could easily become a pit. He had a purpose. A challenge. A reason to get up in the morning. So many other survivors didn’t.
That reason was in front of him right now, and it made his brain itch.
“Anything new?” asked a voice from behind him.
“I don’t know,” he said, not taking his eyes off the green letters on the black background. “I worked on army computers in my consulting business, but these are something else. Seriously else. So I’m not sure if I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing.”
His supervisor, Lt. Purcell, a middle-aged dude with a comb-over and thick glasses, took a seat beside him. They’d struck up something resembling a friendship and Dylan found him to be a good boss, if the word boss even meant anything anymore. It’s not like anyone was getting paid, although there were certain perks, such as getting a house in the city once the power was back up again.
“Yeah, Cheyenne Mountain is like something out of a science fiction movie,” said Purcell. “It was the nerve center of last resort for the free world for decades. There’s technology here that isn’t available anywhere else on Earth, at least as far as we know.”
“That’s why I can’t figure out what this means.”
Purcell leaned over him. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, I’ve managed to isolate the code that the cyber weapon left in the systems that it attacked—at least I think I have.”
“You’re not sure?”
“Well, it looks like a duck and it quacks like a duck…”
“But it’s not a duck? Sorry, I don’t have the same level of computer savvy as you.”
Dylan grinned. “Not a lot of people do, especially now that—well, you know. Anyway, it does look and quack like a duck, but the duck is in the desert.”
“Come again?” Purcell frowned.
“Just a joke. I mean, you wouldn’t expect to find a duck in the desert, you’d expect to find him in a pond.”
“Okaayy…?”
“So this code, which looks like a cyber weapon and quacks like a cyber weapon, didn’t come from China. If I’m reading this right, it came from somewhere in the Western Hemisphere.”
Purcell cleared his throat. “That’s impossible.”
“I know, which is why this is so baffling. The only thing I can figure at this point is that it’s somehow picking up on the route that it took to get here. Sort of like using a connecting boarding pass at an airport to fake your point of origin.”
“So what are you saying?”
Dylan leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his coarse black hair.
“I’m saying that if I didn’t know better, I’d swear that someone had done something with this code to make it look like it originated somewhere other than where it actually did.”
Purcell stared over his shoulder for several seconds, which made Dylan smile. It reminded him of how his dad used to pretend to understand what he was talking about, nodding and saying “mm-hmm” even though his knowledge of computers had stalled somewhere around Windows 12.
“But you’re also saying that’s impossible?”
“Well, nothing’s impossible,” said Dylan. “But it doesn’t make any sense. We know that the cyber weapon started in China and spread worldwide. And without any means of connecting with other computers around the world, I can’t prove or disprove the theory. So it’s really pretty much moot right now.”
Purcell nodded. “Your job is to get things up and running again.”
“Exactly.”
“There’s something else you should think about.”
“What’s that?”
“You heard about what happened at Schriever Air Force Base last week?” Purcell asked, leaning closer and lowering his voice.
“Some of it,” said Dylan. “A bunch of guys broke in to a cache of weapons and tried to steal them, right? They all ended up dead for their trouble.”
“That’s it in a nutshell. The army isn’t keen on resistance right now, if you get my meaning.”
Dylan tilted his head and raised his hands. “You’re preaching to the choir, man. That’s why I’m here: I want to do my part to get things movi
ng again. To get America back, or, you know, help start the process. My grandparents came here after the Vietnam war and by the time everything—uh, collapsed, I guess—they owned a chain of convenience stores. I went to Harvard, my sister went to Stanford. This country gave us everything.”
Purcell placed a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate that, Dylan, I really do. And I think we’re on the same page: You don’t want to go talking about this theory to anyone else. Especially since that’s just what it is: a theory.”
“Of course not. I’ve got enough people giving me the stink-eye on the streets as it is. I try to tell them I’m not Chinese, but I guess after Marcus Chase and everything… I suppose you can’t blame them.”
“It’s not right by any means, but it’s understandable,” Purcell said with a nod. “You hit the nail on the head. We’re all in this together, and starting rumors is only going to take us in the wrong direction.”
Dylan held out his hand for a fist bump, which Purcell obliged.
“Amen, brutha,” he said. “Consider it forgotten. I’ve got enough to do without heading down rabbit holes.”
“Awesome.” Purcell glanced at his watch. “I’ve got stuff to do. You okay on your own?”
Dylan grinned. It was a joke between the two, since Purcell offered next to nothing when it came to Dylan’s work. He was just there because the army had this thing about the chain of command.
“Get lost,” he said. “I’ll catch you later.”
Purcell grinned. “Do it to it, or whatever the hell I mean.”
He left the room and walked into the hall that led away from the command center. As the door closed behind him, he pulled the walkie-talkie from his belt and took a quick glance to make sure he was alone. When he was sure he was, he turned the dial to a specific frequency and hit the squelch with two long blasts and then three short ones. Then he switched to a different channel.
“Go,” said a voice through the receiver.
Purcell brought the microphone close to his mouth so he could speak quietly.
