by Dirk Patton
Slowly at first, the upslope side rose into the air. The body of the vehicle tilted far enough to pull the tires on that side off the ground. For a heartbeat, the Hummer hesitated, looking for all the world like some monstrous beast trying to regain its balance. But there was no coming back. The severe tilt quickly went beyond the centerline of the vehicle and it rolled. Over and over, crashing down the slope, obscured in a haze of dust thrown up by each impact with the ground.
Anna leapt out of her vehicle and ran to the edge in time to see William’s Humvee crash to a stop on its side in the ravine below. She was transfixed, watching and waiting for a door to open and the man to climb out and come after her. But he didn’t. A minute later, she could make out the three women slowly approaching the wreck, rifles trained and ready.
Dashing back to her Hummer, she drove carefully down the slope, stopping behind Elizabeth who was squatting as she tried to see through the shattered windshield. Anna got out and ran to kneel next to her. Neither woman could see through the thick glass that was now opaque from thousands of cracks.
They exchanged glances, then climbed up onto the side of the vehicle that was pointing at the sky. The passenger window was intact, but the interior was too dark for them to see anything. Elizabeth produced a small flashlight, clicking it on and shining it inside.
William lay on the driver’s door at an awkward angle, blood covering his face and staining his shirt. A nasty gash on his forehead ran freely, telling them he was still alive. Reassured he wasn’t prepared to shoot the moment they opened the door, Anna tugged on the latch, but it didn’t move. With the addition of the armor plating, it was heavier than she could manage by herself.
Elizabeth moved next to her and, working together, they succeeded in raising it. Each of the women braced it with their shoulders as they looked down at William. He lay unmoving, even though he was conscious. They could see pain in his eyes as he stared back at them.
“You fucking bitch!” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“I know him,” Elizabeth said, startling Anna.
“What? How?”
“Came to our compound with a bunch of men a couple of months ago. Threatened us if we didn’t share our supplies and demanded we provide them with women.”
William stared at her as she spoke, saying nothing.
“What happened?” Anna asked.
“We knew they were coming a couple of hours in advance. A bunch of us were in the trees with rifles. They left when we started picking them off.”
Anna couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the arrogant William and his followers being sent running with their tails between their legs.
“How did you find me?” Anna asked, looking back into the Hummer.
William snorted, locking his eyes onto her face.
“Security system recorded everything you did,” he said. “I watched you kill my men, then drive off. You weren’t hard to track once I knew the direction you were headed.”
Anna didn’t say anything, but was glad to have that mystery solved. But it also reminded her of the mistakes she’d made. She’d forgotten about the cameras and had simply gone in a straight line when she’d departed. It couldn’t have been that hard to find her.
“You have to help me!” William pleaded. “You can’t leave me here!”
“I think his back is broken, and we can’t take him with us,” Elizabeth said in a quiet voice.
Anna nodded slowly, thinking about what Nitro would do if he were here. Without saying a word, she drew her pistol. William’s eyes went wide when he saw the weapon in her hand, then she fired a round that punched through his forehead.
41
Admiral Packard came awake with a groan when Captain Black called his name. Sitting up, he squinted at the light leaking through his partially open bedroom door.
“What is it, Captain?” he asked, glancing at the bedside clock and sighing to note he’d only been asleep for two hours.
“Sorry to disturb you, sir. Urgent call from Chief Simmons.”
“Is she here?” Packard asked, swinging his legs off the bed and rubbing his tired eyes.
“No, sir. She’s in the CIC at the moment. Shall I tell her to come over?”
Packard rubbed his face, then scrubbed a hand across his brush-cut hair before answering.
“Negative, Captain. I’m awake, now. We might as well take a walk.”
“Yes, sir,” Black said, backing out of the room. “I’ll be right outside when you’re ready.”
He gently closed the door, plunging the room back into darkness. Packard was exhausted, his body crying out for him to crawl back into bed, but he ignored its protests and snapped on a lamp. Getting to his feet, he went into the bath, washed his face, brushed his teeth, then returned to the room and selected a fresh uniform from the closet.
Five minutes later, he stood in front of the mirror, giving himself a final going over. The uniform was immaculate, as always, and he didn’t see anything out of place. Grabbing his cover off the dresser, he opened the door and nodded his readiness to his chief of security.
“Do me a favor, Captain,” he said as they walked out into the pre-dawn tropical night. “Call the Chief and ask her to meet me on the bench. She’ll know where I mean.”
“Yes, sir,” Black said.
He took a moment to look around and ensure his men had formed a proper protective bubble around the Admiral. Satisfied, he pulled out a secure cell phone and made the call as he walked at Packard’s side. The conversation was brief.
“She’ll meet you there, sir,” he said.
They walked in silence, the Admiral already thinking about everything that needed to be accomplished that day. Ships and aircraft were being retrofitted at a furious pace, prepared to transport the large civilian population to the mainland. Plans were being reviewed and tweaked on how best to manage the exodus from Hawaii. And there was a Presidential Election.
Not that the Admiral was actively involved. That was against the law. He had to remain fully removed from the campaign or his only opponent, the Governor of Hawaii, would cry foul and crucify him in the press. And rightly so, Packard acknowledged.
Polling showed the two men in a dead heat. This encouraged the Admiral as his campaign consisted solely of a mix of civilian and military volunteers. There were no high-priced PR firms or professional campaign managers. No blanketing the airwaves with political ads. No thousand-dollar a plate fundraisers. It was just men and women who believed in him, giving their time and enthusiasm to help him become President.
The Governor had gone on TV the previous evening, participating in a one-man debate. Without the Admiral present to correct the record, he’d used the forum to spout an impressive string of lies. He took credit for bringing the vaccine to Hawaii to protect the people. Claimed he’d been involved in the defense of the islands against the Russian invasion fleet, even going so far as to intimate that he’d issued orders to the Admiral that had ultimately won the day.
Packard had sat alone in his private quarters, seething. For a brief time, he’d even considered resigning his commission on the spot and racing to the television studio to expose the little twit for the lying coward he was. But a cooler head had prevailed and he’d done nothing. The men and women under his command, and the entire remaining population of the United States, was better served if he remained where he was. For the moment.
“Who will replace you, sir?” Captain Black asked, startling him out of his thoughts.
“What?”
“When you’re elected, sir. Who will you appoint to take your job?”
“You’re assuming I’ll win, Captain,” Packard smiled. “I’m not so confident. Especially after the so-called debate last night. The Governor came out of that looking like a hero.”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but that was all bullshit. The people will see through it. Especially with a few thousand volunteers out there spreading the truth. On their off-duty hours, of course,” Black s
aid with a grin.
“To be perfectly frank, Captain, I don’t want the job,” the Admiral said with a sigh. “Between you and me, I never wanted, nor expected, to even be where I am. Just wanted to fly fighter jets for the Navy.”
“Ours not to reason why…” Captain Black said, speaking the beginning of the famous quote from The Charge of the Light Brigade.
“Ours but to do or die,” Packard said, finishing the line and giving his guard a sideways look.
“Marines can read, too,” Black said with a smile as they approached the bench.
Jessica was already waiting, getting to her feet and bringing up a salute as the Admiral arrived. He returned it and waved for her to take a seat as he brought out a pack of cigarettes. Offering her one, he lit it first, then fired up his own.
“This is your fault, Chief,” he said, lowering himself onto the bench and blowing a plume of smoke at the sky.”
“Sir?” Jessica asked in confusion.
“Smoking, young lady. I was several years quit until I met you,” he answered with a smile to let her know he was only kidding.
“I’m a bad influence, sir,” she said, returning his smile.
“So, what’s so urgent, Chief?”
“Problems in Siberia and Australia, sir.”
“What’s happened?”
“Siberia to begin, sir. You’re already aware we lost the SEAL team that accompanied Igor and Irina, but that they did make it into the camp. A little more than an hour ago, they left. Alone.”
“They left?” Packard asked in surprise. “Why?”
“I don’t know, sir. We have not received any communications from either of them. We were keeping watch on satellite and the duty officer in the CIC called me when he saw them go into the forest. I’m hoping they’ll be making contact soon.”
The Admiral stared at her, his cigarette forgotten and smoldering in his hand. After a few seconds, he turned to Captain Black and ordered him to have Captain West join them as soon as possible.
“What else, Chief?” he asked.
“Australia, sir. The Major was with his contact at a training compound near Sydney. A senior officer in the Australian military arrived, with a Russian officer in tow, after the perimeter was surrounded by troops. Major Chase escaped, but is being pursued. Other than Ms. Miles, he is on his own.”
“Where are our SEALs and the team of PMCs he took with him?” Packard asked with a sense of dread.
“Driving towards Sydney, sir, but still several hours away.”
They looked around as Captain West arrived at a dead run. In the little down time he had, the man enjoyed training for and competing in triathlons. His Marine guards looked a little winded as they spread out and strengthened the perimeter that was already around the Admiral.
“Both operations are falling apart,” Packard said to his senior aide.
West looked to Jessica, who relayed an abbreviated version of what she’d just told the Admiral.
“No comms with either party?” he asked.
“No, sir. I was able to reach Commander Sherman, and they’re pressing as hard as they can, but it will still be hours before they are in any position to provide assistance to the Major.”
“We need to prepare to move forward with Operation War Hammer,” the Admiral said to his aide.
War Hammer was the fallback plan that had already been approved by the Admiral, created in the event the team was unsuccessful in reaching and assassinating Barinov. Commander Sherman and Master Sergeant Baldwin had been briefed, but no one else on the ground in Australia was aware it existed.
On Admiral Packard’s order, the SEALs would find a location from which they could illuminate the roof of Barinov’s high rise with a laser designator they had brought with them. Once the target was painted, a B-2 stealth bomber would release a two thousand pound JDAM bomb. The blast would destroy the structure, killing everyone in it, and it was also likely there would be significant damage and loss of life within the surrounding block.
No one had any idea if the detonation would cause the release of the nerve gas Barinov was using to hold Australia hostage, but the Admiral had decided it was necessary to take the risk. Major Chase’s argument had been that if they did nothing, there would be a massive loss of life among the Australian population when the Russians learned of the impending scourge. Packard agreed with him. Doing nothing wasn’t an option. They had to try.
“Yes, sir,” Captain West said. “I’ll alert the crew to launch. They will loiter over the Tasman Sea, awaiting the release order. But sir, I must reiterate my concern over the air defenses the Russians have in place. Their seaborne early warning radar is nearly as effective as ours. It is likely they will detect the aircraft in time to engage before it is in range to release the ordnance.”
“I’m aware of your concerns, Captain,” the Admiral said, shaking his head. “If we had another option, I would be more than willing to entertain it.”
West stood silently for a long moment before nodding agreement with the Admiral’s point.
“By the way, what did you learn from speaking with the gentleman on the oil rig?” Packard asked.
Captain West glanced at Jessica, sending a message that she hadn’t been read in on the classified information. Packard nodded and turned to her.
“Thank you, Chief. Please keep me updated, and if you receive any communications, I want to be notified immediately.”
“Yes, sir,” Jessica said, understanding she’d been dismissed.
Once she was out of hearing range, West turned his attention back to the Admiral.
“His name is Ian Patterson, sir. The director of the project. We were able to speak over secure comms once he transferred to the Reagan. He confirmed what we read in the file the Major recovered from Offutt Air Force Base. Claims the information is factual and he is indeed sitting on a time machine.”
“Is this man a crank, Captain?”
“I had the same thought, sir. If he is, he is very convincing. But I’ve been doing some digging since speaking with him. He was a Marine officer. Commanded a Raider battalion. So, I started asking around to see if anyone knew him. Do you remember Colonel Pointere?”
“I do,” Packard said, lighting a fresh cigarette.
“He attended Annapolis with Mr. Patterson. Served with him afterwards in the Middle East. They’re personal friends. I asked for his unvarnished opinion, and he gave it. He says this man, the Director as he’s called, is as sober minded and straight shooting as anyone he’s ever known. Said that if Patterson says something, you can take it to the bank.”
The Admiral stared at his aide, slowly smoking his cigarette.
“Are we sure it’s the same man?” Packard asked.
“I had Colonel Pointere speak directly with him. Yes, sir. He’s certain it’s the same Ian Patterson he’s known for over two decades.”
“So, you’re telling me that there is an honest to God time travel machine sitting off the coast of Texas? And it’s operational and in our control?”
“As crazy as that sounds, yes, sir,” West said, shrugging. “That appears to be correct.”
“Then why the hell haven’t they done something about this?” Packard growled, standing up.
“Begging the Admiral’s pardon, but if you recall from the file, travel is limited to only thirty-six hours into the past. The Director confirmed this fact during our conversation. What was not in the file is that they only have one individual who can survive the rigors of being transported through the machine. The attacks were too widespread for one person to have any chance of going back and changing things.”
West paused with an odd expression on his face.
“Captain?” the Admiral prompted.
“Sorry, sir. I just realized how what I said must have sounded.”
“Brave new world, Captain,” Packard said, stripping his cigarette and placing the butt in his pocket. “Get War Hammer flight in the air. I’ll be in the CIC.”
; 42
Igor and Irina moved through the dark forest, careful to only tread on clear ground that had been sheltered from the heavy snowfall by the spreading pine boughs over their heads. There was no indication of pursuit from the prison camp, but Igor wasn’t going to leave anything to chance if he had another option. Right now, that was ensuring they didn’t leave tracks that could be followed.
They pushed for an hour, finally coming to a stop under a tree with a massively thick trunk. A large circular area was completely clear and dry of snow. Irina gratefully sank to the ground when Igor called a momentary halt.
“What are we going to do?” she asked, watching him scan the forest.
“Do you believe that your uncle is dead?” Igor asked without taking his attention off their surroundings.
“Do you think Mikhail was lying?” Irina asked, hope surging through her.
“No, I do not,” Igor said. “But I was asking what you think.”
“I believed him when he told us, but now you are making me rethink.”
“That was not my intention. I was simply inquiring about your opinion.”
“Why?” Irina asked, rubbing her legs for warmth.
“Because we should be in agreement before we leave the area,” he said, shrugging. “Once we have left, it will be very difficult to return. And we need to communicate our status to Hawaii. What should we tell them?”
Irina didn’t answer immediately, nodding to herself before she replied.
“We should tell them that my uncle is dead,” she finally said.
Igor looked down, meeting her eyes and nodded.
“Then where do we go?” Irina asked, looking around at the bleak wilderness.
Igor was silent, obviously in thought, and she let him work through whatever it was he was considering.
