by Kyle Pratt
“Did you find any formula?”
“No,” she sat on the hood of the car, “but Debbie gave me a can of milk.”
“That’s nice,” he said still focused on the article. “What did people do before formula?”
She laughed.
Caden looked at Maria as a smile beamed from her face. He thought about what he had asked and his face flushed. “Okay, stupid question, but what do we do?”
She held up the can. “Give Adam some canned milk I guess. You can still buy the fresh stuff at the market, but….”
Caden was surprised. “Really, paper money will still get you things?”
“Yes, but it’s all really expensive.”
Caden stepped from under the canopy, folded the paper, and dropped it on the car seat. He reached into his pocket and grabbed one of the silver dollars he had taken from his apartment. Flipping it in the air he said, “Let’s go get Adam some fresh milk. Save the can for later.”
Looking at the coin Maria asked, “What’s that?”
“My dad would say it’s real money.”
As they walked toward the market she said, “I met someone from Washington state.”
“Oh?”
“He said his boss was Governor Monroe.”
His mouth dropped open. “Monroe?”
Maria nodded nonchalantly. “Do you know him?”
“We’ve met.” he smiled as his mind raced. “He’s governor of Washington state—and the leading candidate for president.”
“Really?” Her eyebrows rose. “The guy, David Weston, said that the governor wanted to get to Olympia as soon as possible. Isn’t Seattle the capital of Washington?”
Lost in his own thoughts, Caden hardly heard what she said. He had worked as an aide to a senator and had military experience. Monroe might be in need of a man with his talents. He looked across the vast refugee camp. He would have to find David Weston—today. He’s my ticket to a new job and a trip home.
Chapter Six
The barrack’s door protested with a loud squeak as Caden yanked it open and hurried out of the cold rain. Movement caught his eye when he was halfway across the lobby. Turning his head he saw a man, seated alone in the corner, staring down at a sheet of paper. The man wiped away tears. Beside him on the floor were the tatters of a quickly opened envelope.
Bad news. So much pain and suffering these days.
As the man raised his head from the letter, Caden recognized him. Turner! Remembering their discussion days ago about family, Caden’s gut twisted into a knot. Turner had been hoping for a letter and now he had it, but this must be news his friend did not want to hear. Immediately his mind jumped to the worst possible scenario—his friend’s family had not survived the Washington blast.
He paused, unsure of what to say. “I was coming to see you, ah…” Caden looked at the door, “Should I go?”
“No.” He wiped the tears from his cheeks, stood with eyes fixed on the letter.
Caden glanced at the door once again. He wanted to go, but felt he should stay. “Is there anything I can do?”
“It’s okay, really.”
Caden was certain Turner’s wife and children were dead. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t understand.” A smile spread across his face. “My family, they’re alive.”
Caden shouted with joy and grabbed his friend in a bear hug. They stumbled backward as tears ran down the cheeks of both.
After several minutes of smiles, laughter and talk, the two men made their way up the stairs toward Turner’s barracks room.
“You actually got a letter?” Caden rubbed his chin. “The more I think about the post office still functioning the stranger it sounds.”
Turner grinned as he unlocked the door of his room. “Neither rain, nor snow, nor nuclear bombs.” He chuckled at his own joke. “Susie, my wife, sent it the day after the attack on Washington. It must have followed my unit as we moved.”
“Have you talked to your family?” He stepped into the small room, and looked for a phone, but did not see one. He pulled his cell phone from a pocket. “Use this.”
Turner gestured toward a chair. “It won’t work.”
Caden shot him a quizzical look as he sat down.
“Have you been able to call your family?”
“No, but you might be….”
Turner shook his head. “President Durant issued an executive order placing phone and Internet system under military control. Long distance communication is limited to government business.”
“Why?”
“To keep them available for the good guys and keep any remaining terrorists from communicating.”
“Won’t they just send letters?”
Turner shrugged. “Maybe, but that’s slower and I suspect letters are being monitored also. Actually, a computer nerd in my squad said you could still use the Internet if you know the IP address for a site.”
Caden recalled how his father had the IP address for a prepper blog site taped to his laptop. But I don’t know any IP addresses so I guess the Internet and the phones are unavailable for now. He shook his head. The government controlling and probably monitoring the calls and letters of citizens—what is the country becoming? He pushed the thought out of his mind. “I came to offer you an assignment.” He glanced about the room. Folded clothes were scattered about.
“Oh?” Turner sat beside his duffle bag.
“I’m trying to get a flight back to Washington state for Governor Monroe….”
“The presidential candidate?”
Caden nodded. “I met with David Weston, his Chief of Staff, late yesterday. He offered me a job as military liaison, if I could arrange the flight.”
Turner smiled approvingly.
“And considering all the chaos, I wanted some additional security until we meet up with the Washington Guard.” He held up some documents. “The base commander has already approved my plans.”
Turner shook his head as he folded a shirt. “I don’t know if I can help you.”
Caden gestured at the neatly stacked uniforms beside a duffle bag. “Are you deploying again?”
“Rucker is being turned over to the Alabama National Guard. All regular army personnel here are being deployed west.”
“West?” Caden thought for a moment. “Washington is west.”
Turner shrugged. “Okay. The transfer was supposed to be confidential, but word has already leaked.”
He grinned. “Well, If you’re going west anyway do you have a problem with it being JBLM or Fairchild?”
Turner shook his head.
“Good.” He started to say goodbye, but asked, “Do you know why you’re being sent west?”
“You know that North Korea supplied material for the bombs?”
Caden nodded.
“We may be headed to Korea but,” Turner shrugged, “ours is not to question why….” He continued packing.
Caden made small talk for a few moments then said, “I hope you are able to talk to your family soon.”
“Thanks. I would really like to before we ship out to Korea or wherever.”
Caden agreed and departed.
The rain stopped as he walked from the barracks. The clouds were thinning and the day felt brighter and warmer. The world might be falling apart, but at least he was rebuilding his life. His pace was quick as he walked down the street. As he entered the flight operations building a C-130 roared down the runway.
“Washington state?” The officer stared at the computer screen. “Yes, we have two planes tonight headed for Fairchild. One is full of cargo, the other full of soldiers.” He shook his head. “Sorry, no space.”
“Come on, I need a seat for a governor. This man may be the next president.”
“When Monroe is president he can bump military cargo and get on the plane.”
“Is space that tight?”
The officer nodded. “I might be able to get him onboard a flight, but not his entourage.”
&nbs
p; Frustration grew in Caden’s gut. Governor Monroe would arrive tonight and if he was to get this job, and get home, he would need to prove his usefulness, but as of yet he had no flight and therefore no security detail either. Caden shuddered at the thought of reporting failure and then asking for a job. He tried to think of all the larger bases in the region.
“Northwest,” the man mumbled as he stared at the screen. “Only Fairchild today, but…. What about Joint Base Lewis-McChord?” He said looking up. “That’s in western Washington.”
Caden nodded. He knew JBLM well. “How many flights are going there?”
“Oh, we have three flights tomorrow to that base.”
Caden’s brow shot up. “Three?”
“How many spots would you need on the plane?”
Caden thought quickly, the governor, his wife, David Weston and himself. Weston had also mentioned two Secret Service agents were with the governor. “Six and a security detail of maybe four more.”
“Ten people?” He bit his lip as he scanned the computer screen. “Maybe…yes, I think I can do that, but I’ll need an okay from the commanding officer.”
Caden smiled as he slid the general’s order across the counter.
* * *
Late in the afternoon Caden walked from the military police office. He unfolded his to-do list. Before the MPs had cleared him to leave, they had taken every piece of identification he had and entered it into a database. Finally, they approved him for travel and issued a red, white and blue ID badge.
“Don’t lose this,” one said sternly. “This is your Homeland Security ID. You will need it to cross state lines, get through checkpoints and onto any federal installation.”
Caden slipped it in his pocket.
Running down his list he checked off, “Get approval from the MPs to leave.” Now only ‘Brief David Weston on progress,’ remained on his list. Caden ambled along the road that followed the flight line. Several planes were being fueled. Dozens of military personnel with assorted trucks and tankers busied themselves about the hangers and aircraft. All regular army personnel sent west? A large formation of troops marching toward the flight line caught his attention. Multiple flights to JBLM and Fairchild tomorrow. What’s going on? The image of the boiling mushroom cloud over Washington and the firestorm filled his mind. Wars and rumors of wars. He shuddered at the thought. The war has already begun—and we’re losing.
Briskly he proceeded toward the refugee center. After talking with Weston he would share his good news with Maria. He approached a large asphalt lot that had been used for military formations, but the refugees had converted it into a bazaar. As he reached the edge of the market, the sun hung low in the sky casting long shadows amidst the rows of improvised stalls covered with tarps and canvas. His eyes darted from stall to stall as he walked through the market. There seemed to be some of everything there, car parts, camping supplies, computers, dishes, books and magazines. It was possible to buy food from local farms, but the price was high. Ahead was a stand with apples. He would buy one and share it with Maria over dinner that night.
As he walked away from the booth, apple in hand, he saw Maria approach with Adam on her hip. The two seemed to be attached these last few days. He waved and Maria smiled.
As she neared, her eyes seemed to twinkle in anticipation. “Did you get the job?”
“I think so.” He told her that Weston had eagerly asked for his help and how he had arranged a flight to Joint Base Lewis-McChord.
“Where’s that?”
“Just south of Seattle,” he said with a broad grin. “So, I am out of here.”
She frowned. “When do you leave?”
Caden looked toward the airfield with a smile. “Tomorrow.”
“So you’re leaving Adam and me behind?”
His head snapped around and he looked into her eyes. “I…ah, Adam? And you? You want to go? I hadn’t thought….”
“I agree.” She turned on her heels and walked briskly away.
Caden stood for a moment reviewing what had just happened. He was hurt by her anger. Admittedly he had forgotten about Adam in the excitement of the day. Perhaps subconsciously he had expected Maria to care for him. Everyone in the camp assumed she was his mother. And me the father? He pushed that out of his mind. Did she say anything about wanting to go with me to Washington? No! But then has she had the chance to ask? No.
He grunted and walked slowly along as people passed him on all sides. They would only complicate the trip. I’m not even sure I have this job.
Someone bumped into him. “Excuse me.”
Caden didn’t look up or reply. I can’t ask the governor to help strangers. He walked in the direction she had gone, trying to decide whether to talk to her. I don’t owe her anything. He winced. Yes, I do. She had saved his life and that was a debt he was honor-bound to repay. Shuffling along, his eyes fixed on the ground, he realized he had been thinking only of himself. Her company was pleasant and he wanted to share with her all he had accomplished during the day, but now he felt alone and his triumph was diminished. It might be nice to have someone to talk to, if she wanted to come along. Even Adam was growing on him.
From behind Caden heard a familiar voice call him.
“Were you able to make the arrangements?” David asked.
Caden briefed him on his successful day.
“That’s great.”
Caden smiled, but his heart was not in it.
“Come back to my camp. I’ve got some news stories I want you to see. I figure with your military and intel experience you might have some insights into what is going on.”
Caden wanted to find Maria, talk with her, change flight arrangements so she could come with him, but he felt obliged to go with David.
As the last orange glow in the western sky faded, a C5 cargo plane lumbered along the tarmac. David led him away from the refugee camp toward the base administration buildings at the far end of the installation.
Dozens of men with shovels and two backhoes dug a trench several hundred yards long across their path.
“They’re dividing this place into a secure military section and a refugee camp.” David pulled a badge from his pocket and clipped it to his shirt as they crossed a makeshift bridge over the trench. “In a few days civilians will need a Homeland Security ID to get on this part of the base.”
Caden glanced at the badge. It was the same type he had been issued earlier in the day.
Moments later, they walked around to the back of the administration building. “This is my new car,” David said as he approached a silver Ford SUV.
Admiring the spotless car, Caden nodded.
David opened the side door. “I bought the car the day after the first attack.”
Caden thought for a moment. “You flew here with Governor Monroe and after the attacks needed a way home.”
David smiled. “Pretty close.” He pulled out two folding chairs and motioned for Caden to sit down while he shuffled through folders on the car seat. “The Governor and I flew to Tallahassee to meet with Governor Hagen. Florida is a critical swing state. But that night…the night of the DC attack, I was meeting with campaign workers in Pensacola. I immediately contacted Monroe. We had a meeting scheduled the next day in Atlanta. He decided we should all meet there, but…well…you know what happened.”
Memories of Becky on the television at that awful moment shot through his mind. Caden frowned and nodded.
With a weak grin on his face he said, “I paid for the car with a credit card.”
“I don’t envy your payments.”
David was still for a moment. His eyes stared into the distance. “Will I ever make a payment?”
Caden shrugged and felt strangely cold.
Weston sighed and pulled a folder from the floor of the car. “Here is what I wanted you to look at.” He handed it to Caden and sat beside him. “It’s clippings and photocopies from newspapers mostly. Anything I thought might lend some insight into what or why t
his is happening.”
Caden opened the folder. Several reports near the top of the stack he had already read. Setting those aside he came to an article from the Miami Herald.
A group claiming to represent the terrorists has stated the city of Detroit will be granted another twenty-four hour reprieve due to the large Muslim communities in the vicinity. This is the second announced reprieve for the largely evacuated Metropolitan area. Authorities continue to hunt for nuclear material and have intensified efforts to locate terrorists as the last residents leave the area.
Caden set the report beside him. Interesting, but not insightful. He picked up the next clipping.
Iran has introduced a resolution to the United Nations Security Council authorizing the Peoples Republic of China to enter North Korea, occupy all nuclear facilities and dismantle them. The North Korean government has stated that, if the resolution is adopted, they will allow the troops to cross their border and take control of the facilities.
He paused and then reread the article. I understand why the North Koreans might cooperate with the Chinese, but why would Iran care? He rubbed his chin. Why would China risk this kind of intervention to help us? He thought for almost a minute while David wrote in a notebook. Finally Caden lifted his head and declared, “North Korea, Iran and China are working together on the attacks….” He paused. “And something more, I suspect.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, but they have a plan that is advantageous to each of them.”
Two soldiers walked casually around the building, rifles slung over their shoulders. They looked at David, his badge still pinned on his shirt, smiled and nodded. They looked at Caden and stopped. “Does your friend have an ID?”
