by Dirk Patton
“That idiot? Wasn’t he facing a federal racketeering investigation before the attacks?”
“He was,” the Admiral said. “He says he’s ordered an emergency election to pick a new president.”
West’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“With everything that’s going on? That’s nuts. We don’t have time for this, sir! What did he have to say about the exodus?”
“I didn’t tell him,” Packard said. “I don’t trust that he won’t go on TV and try to use that as a platform to get himself the presidency. It’s going to be bad enough when word gets out, but at least we’ll have plans in place and be ready to start moving people. That will go a long way towards calming fears. But, if the information gets out too soon, I’m worried the civilian population will descend into chaos.”
“I’d like to think the people have been through enough that they would understand the need for a rational approach, but I’m afraid I have to agree with you, sir. But, what about the Australians? And, there are a few other lightly populated islands in the South Pacific that were given the vaccine for their people. They don’t know what’s coming.”
Packard dropped the report he’d picked up and leaned back in his chair.
“That’s one of the many things that keeps me up at night,” he said. “Informing the Aussies. Their PM is no better than that slimy politician that just left. If we tell him, you can bet the Russians will hear about it as soon as I get off the phone. If that happens, they’re going to be looking for a new place to live and will arrive at the same conclusions we did. They’re going to want the same chunks of land, and we don’t have time for a war.”
“Sir, with all due respect, we can’t not tell them. There’s not much time, and there are millions of people that will die. Maybe, if they start now, they can get emergency shelters set up in their western deserts that will take most of their population. Maybe we can convince the Russians to abandon North America and move into the Middle East. There are several large cities that are sitting empty. Riyadh or Baghdad are more than large enough.”
The Admiral waved Captain West into a chair.
“The last I heard, there are still high levels of radiation in the region. Remember, Israel was attacked shortly after we were, and they unleashed hell on the more radical countries. The Russians aren’t going to accept that. Not after they think they’ve conquered the world.
“Put yourself into Barinov’s shoes, Captain. He thinks he’s in complete control. But, as soon as he gets word that the world is dying, he’s going to be looking for an out. At that point, the Australian citizens are just going to be in his way. A fresh release of the nerve agent will solve that problem for him.”
“What good will that do?” West asked, obviously having failed to consider the scenario the Admiral was describing.
“It makes room for more Russians to be brought into Australia. Consider this. He kills a few million citizens. Suddenly, there are homes aplenty for the people he allows to come in. And, not only that, he’s put the fear of God into the surviving population. What do you think parents will do to protect their children, Captain? Don’t you think they’d be willing to become Barinov’s slaves? Move out into the deserts to cultivate food for their masters who will continue to live in comfort in the cities?”
West sat quietly for a long moment, considering what Packard had said.
“So, we don’t tell the Aussies, and when Barinov figures out what’s happening, we’ll have a fight on our hands to defend our new home. But, if we do tell them, there’s a very real chance that millions of their citizens will be murdered. Those are our only choices, sir?”
Packard nodded and picked up a file folder, gently waving it in the air.
“That’s what intel has gamed out, and I agree with their conclusions. Millions of dead Australians, or a protracted battle in Arizona and we lose tens, if not hundreds, of thousands.”
“That hardly stacks up against millions in Australia, sir.”
“You think I haven’t anguished over this?” Packard snapped, slapping the folder back onto the surface of his desk. “We’re almost gone, Captain. The best estimates are that there’re slightly less than one million Americans still alive. Regardless of that fact, I’m not willing to be even indirectly responsible for a mass genocide in Australia, so I’m going to keep my mouth shut. We’ll lose people. A lot of people. But, we’re not going to let others die so we can be safe. I couldn’t live with that. Could you?”
“No, sir,” West said. “I couldn’t. But, the Aussies and the Russians are going to notice something is up when we start moving people to CONUS. What do we say when they ask? And there’s still the problem of the enemy occupying California. How are we going to get past them?”
“Good questions, Captain. And, I’m sure you’ll have good answers for me when you present your plans tomorrow morning.”
30
Jessica leaned closer to the monitor, peering at a string of computer code as it scrolled across the screen. She watched intently for nearly a minute, then blew out a sigh of frustration. Stretching her sore back, she twisted until it popped in several places, giving her a small degree of relief.
Looking up, she surveyed the darkened room. All her staff were intently hammering away on keyboards, working to help her bypass the multiple layers of encryption that protected the Russian system she was attempting to breach. She could tell with a glance that none of them were having any better success.
“Stuck?”
Jessica looked around to see Lieutenant Hunt staring at her from his workstation.
“Yeah,” she said, swiveling the chair so she didn’t have to turn her head. “Say what you will, but the damn Russians know what they’re doing when it comes to cybersecurity.”
“What’s stopping you? You’ve cracked their systems before.”
“Yeah,” Jessica nodded. “But I’ve never seen anything like this. None of us have.”
She flapped a hand at the other people who were still working.
“So, what’s the problem?”
“Multiple, rotating layers, and they’re self-healing. I crack the first one and get through, then have to back out to get to the next. As soon as I do, the first one repairs itself, and I’m back to square one. Similar to how the NSA did it. Too similar. Someone copied someone’s idea, but the Russians did a better job.”
“Are you going to be able to get in?” Hunt asked.
“I’ll eventually get it,” Jessica said. “Just need a reset and to let my mind work on the problem.”
Hunt nodded as she stood up and stretched.
“I’ll be back,” she said, grabbing her purse and heading for the door.
Jessica checked out through security and made a stop on her usual bench for a quick cigarette. She only smoked half of it, memories of her boyfriend intruding on what she had hoped would be an opportunity to relax. Giving up, she started to head back to work, but at the last moment detoured to the CIC. She wanted to check on Major Chase.
Stepping into the cavernous room, she greeted the duty officer and asked for permission to use a terminal. The Navy Commander knew her well and agreed without hesitation. Taking a seat at a vacant workstation, Jessica nodded to the Master Chief Petty Officer at the adjacent position and quickly logged in.
“What’s going on Chief?” The older man asked as she waited for the system to finish loading.
“Needed a break and thought I’d check on that Army Major in Nevada.”
“Lookin’ at it now, if you want a peek,” he said.
Jessica smiled and rolled her chair next to his. She wasn’t happy to see what was displayed on a large monitor.
“Didn’t realize there were that many in the militia,” she said, staring at the screen.
“Four hundred and eight surrounding the facility,” the Master Chief said. “And they’re inside, too.”
“How?”
“Big bomb they must’ve brought up from Nellis. The initial fl
ash was so bright it tripped our nuke monitors, but it was just a damn big conventional explosion.”
“Any contact with our people?”
“No. No one’s come out, neither. Twenty militia went in when they breached, and just a couple minutes ago an SUV pulled up and five more went inside. Woman and four operators.”
“Whadya mean? Operators, not militia?”
“Just my gut,” he said. “Way they carried their weapons and how they moved. Not like these hicks. I mean, check this out.”
He clicked a mouse a few times and the view zoomed to a group of men standing near a pickup.
“See that?” He pointed at the screen. “They’re dressed like a teenage gamer’s idea of a soldier, and they piled all their rifles into the bed of the truck. Idiots don’t think they’ll need ‘em and must not like holding them. Probably too heavy for their delicate little arms.”
Despite her worry for Major Chase, Jessica snorted a laugh.
“Heard anything about a rescue mission?” She asked.
“Nope. Look here.”
The man manipulated the controls and zoomed out before panning west. A few more commands and the view changed to display a thermal image of Southern California. Multiple, fast moving heat sources were patrolling the coast, and several heat blooms were clear to see in San Diego and Los Angeles.
“What are those?” Jessica asked. “Russians setting up shop?”
“Exactly. And we ain’t getting any planes through. They’ve got the whole region locked down tight.”
Jessica stared at the monitor, wondering how Admiral Packard planned to get around that problem when it was time to begin the exodus. The very harbors that they would need to use on the California coast were currently occupied by the enemy. But that problem wasn’t public knowledge yet, and she couldn’t say anything to the Master Chief.
31
“Hold fire,” I mumbled.
Four new shooters had just arrived, tilting the odds even more in the militia’s favor. We needed to give things a minute to see what was going on before we started a firefight with a vastly superior force. I just wished we were close enough to hear what was apparently an angry conversation. Straining to listen in as I watched through my night vision scope, I looked up in surprise when there was a muted thud over my head.
“Hear that?” Johnson mumbled.
Shit. There was someone inside the goddamn aircraft! What else had I missed? Now, not only was there a hostile force on the other side of the hangar, we had a problem directly over our heads.
Tilting the rifle up, I scanned the belly of the plane and spotted a seam that looked a hell of a lot like a bomb bay door. Set into the smooth skin was a latch that wasn’t completely locked. So, someone had climbed inside and managed to pull the door shut, but not secure it. If we’d started firing on the militia members that were in the open, they could have quietly opened the bay and attacked from the rear. We’d have been chewed up before we even knew there was a problem.
It was too dark to see Johnson or Igor, and I had to settle for mumbling instructions to them. We needed to clear the plane but had to do it quietly, so the other assholes didn’t hear and come charging in on the attack. That meant no firearms. Even suppressed, they would make enough noise to give away our presence.
Leaving Johnson huddled behind the heavy landing gear to keep an eye on the militia, Igor and I silently made our way towards the far side of the large jet. There was an exterior hatch we could open and climb through, hopefully without alerting the occupants that we were coming to kill them.
It was a very high risk proposition, but other than retreating and leaving Vance to further torture and death, I wasn’t coming up with a better option. At least it was pitch black in the hangar and my damaged left eye wasn’t going to be a disadvantage.
Ducking beneath the wing, we moved forward along the fuselage until reaching the door. Igor backed a couple of steps away, raising his rifle and drawing a bead on the hatch. My rifle was slung, Ka-Bar knife in my hand. I didn’t want him to fire and give us away, but if I opened the plane and there was a bad guy waiting and ready to drill a round through my skull, he’d take the shot.
Reaching up, I fumbled my hand across the smooth skin until I found the right spot. A spring-loaded section was flush with the exterior surface and when pushed, it manipulated the interior lock. Unless whoever was inside had thought to secure the door so it couldn’t be opened from the outside. I was counting on that not being the case.
Pressing slowly and smoothly, a section slightly larger than my hand sank into the side of the plane. As it moved, I could feel a moment of extra resistance as the locking bolts retracted, then it hit bottom and the door suddenly bulged out from the surface. I released the breath I’d been holding. There had been almost no sound, which was probably only because the aircraft was new.
Slowly allowing the lock release panel to return to its normal position, I trailed my hand across the surface until finding the lip of the door which now extended a couple of inches from the plane. Gripping it with my fingers, I pulled. Slowly, it began to pivot out.
It was just as dark within the aircraft as it was outside, and this was going to be a problem. I’d been repeatedly kicking myself that we hadn’t taken night vision goggles from the armory when we had the chance, but there was no point in dwelling on missed opportunities. All I could do was get the door open far enough to slither inside, then go to work with the knife. At least it didn’t matter that I could only see out of one eye.
The door continued to swing open, and I suddenly jerked my hand away and jumped back when something touched my hand. Whatever it was had been cold and damp, almost clammy. Infected went through my head as I grabbed my rifle, looking around in surprise when I heard a low chuckle from Igor.
Ignoring him, I whipped the weapon up and looked through the scope, smiling in surprise. The door was a little more than a foot open, and Dog was sticking his head through to greet me. I’d felt his nose on my hand. Stepping closer, I rubbed his neck and pressed my face to his for a moment before tugging the door farther open.
“It’s me. John,” I hissed into the impenetrable darkness inside the aircraft.
There was the faint sound of bodies moving around, then a hand fumbled across my arm before following it down to my hand.
“Thank God,” Rachel breathed a few inches from my face. “What happened to Vance? We heard screaming.”
“They’ve still got him,” I mumbled. “On the far side of the hangar. You got everyone else?”
“Yes. He hid us in here when they started breaking through the door. Wouldn’t hide with us. Said they needed to find someone so they wouldn’t keep looking.”
I shook my head, more than a little surprised. Vance had been an ass when we’d first met. Had hit on Rachel and made it clear he intended to take a run at Tiffany. Seemed all he was worried about was getting his dick wet. But when it mattered, he’d stepped up. Big time. Maybe I owed him an apology.
“Stay put and stay quiet,” I said. “We’re going to see what we can do.”
Rachel trailed her hand up my arm and cupped it around the back of my head, pulling me forward. In the dark, her lips found my chin. She corrected quickly, kissing me deeply before letting go. Stepping back, I ruffled Dog’s ears and pushed his head inside the plane before gently shoving the door closed. Igor following, I returned to where Johnson was closely watching the militia through his night vision scope.
“The girls are in the jet,” I mumbled close to his ear.
He nodded but kept his attention on the enemy.
“Anything happening?” I asked.
“Whoever the woman is, she’s getting a lot of shit from the guy with the radio in his hand, but she’s not backing down. Those four that came in with her are acting as bodyguards, and I think the guy is scared of them.”
I raised my rifle and peered through the scope in time to see one of the men who’d arrived with the General looking directly bac
k at me. We were too far apart for me to make out features, or even be certain that he’d seen us. But the very fact that he was scanning with his weapon told me he either had a thermal or night vision scope.
Remaining frozen, I hoped he would fail to spot me. I was mostly concealed behind the landing gear, only my head, arm and rifle exposed. It was possible, no matter how slim the chance.
After several seconds, he swung the rifle away, completed his sweep and lowered it. Casually, he took a few steps forward and leaned in to speak with a very large man who seemed to be in charge. Fuck! We’d been seen, and the guy was playing it as cool as he could.
“Get ready,” I hissed, moving my finger onto the trigger.
Shit was about to start going sideways, and at the moment there were only two of the enemy that knew we were in the hangar with them. My first shot would take out their leader. Applying pressure, I paused when a shout rang out.
“It’s none of your business, bitch!”
I clearly heard the words, seeing the heads of all four of the General’s guards snap in the direction of the argument. Lights were directed onto them as the other militia soldiers moved in, forming a loose circle around the group. The leader grabbed the General’s arm and pulled her inside a small bubble he and his men formed, each facing out with their rifles up and ready.
One of the flashlights was aimed directly at the leader, brilliantly illuminating his face. It washed out in my night vision, appearing as a bright blur. Deactivating the scope, I dialed up the magnification on the daylight optics and took another look. For several seconds, I was frozen in disbelief. I knew the man. Had fought and bled with him.
Without turning my head away, I hissed instructions to Johnson and Igor. They acknowledged, and reactivating the night vision, I tracked the muzzle back onto the man who had been torturing Vance. He stood with a pistol at arm’s length, pointed at the General. OK, enough fucking around with these guys.
“Now,” I said, pulling the trigger an instant later.
