“What if the ground force is unable to get to the rail yard?” Jarmusch asked.
“Sir, we’ll have enough security on the infil aircraft for the key personnel to bring the train engines online, and once we’re on the ground, the Chinooks will be on station and on call to provide weapons fire for the main effort if needed. In the event the trains can’t be started, or if the reekers mass on the objective once we land, the Chinooks will be called back in to extract the main effort.”
“The rail yard… do you expect heavy opposition there?” Senator Cornell asked.
“Sir, the Shadow feed we’ve been observing for the last forty-eight hours has shown minimal reeker activity in and around the rail yard. That by itself is disconcerting, as given the population of the town, we had expected to see more activity at some point. The concern is that there may be a large number of reekers inside the surrounding buildings, and they may come out when they hear the aircraft land on the objective. The ground force will be providing outer cordon security in the event the reekers do begin pouring out in large numbers from those buildings, and they should be able to buy the main effort more time on the objective to accomplish their mission.”
The two colonels glanced at each other then swiveled their gazes toward Cornell. The senator stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment then nodded.
“Captain Hastings, we’re all in agreement,” Victor said. “Your mission is a go. If you require anything in the interim, let the staff know. I’ll brief them to support you in whatever you may need.”
“Thank you, sir. As soon as we complete pre-combat inspections, we’ll launch the ground force and begin movement to the objective.” Hastings hadn’t really paid much attention to Victor’s statements of support. He knew the mission had to go on, and he was already thinking ten moves ahead, going over his mental checklist of things he needed to ensure were done before they called kickoff and people began rolling out of the wire.
Senator Cornell clasped his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Captain? Got a second before you take off?”
“Sure, sir,” Hastings said, even though all he wanted to do was be quit of the jawboning and get down to brass tacks.
Cornell must’ve caught the vibe because he smiled broadly. “I know you need to jump out, but I just want to go over some things with you first. As you’re likely aware, the COG initiative is a priority of mine, and this mission directly impacts my desire to meet that end state. We’ve already begun discussing contingency plans in the event we have to leave this location for another or to join with others within the government if contact with Site Nine or Mount Weather is made. Until then, fortifying this position to allow us to do that is our top priority, and we feel your plan is the best course of action to achieve that.” He leaned forward. “You were in New York and saw the devastation. If the reekers are migrating from New York, will we be able to hold this location? I’m asking for your informed opinion here.”
“Well, sir, New York is classified as a Mega City, meaning there is a population of ten million or more people. What my unit saw happen in New York is really…” Hastings grappled for words for a moment then gave up with a shrug. “Well, it’s beyond description. The disease spread so quickly that, in a couple of weeks, the infected outnumbered those who hadn’t already been evacuated. What that means is that, realistically, there are roughly ten million plus reekers from the New York City metropolitan area that could show up at our gates. I think our current course of action is the smart thing to do, but if even half of those reekers show up here en masse, we won’t be able to hold up, even with our fortifications in place. We’ll have to leave.” Hastings stared at Cornell and the two colonels. “And in my opinion, it’s not if they get here, but when.”
Senator Cornell kept a good poker face, but Hastings could see Victor and Jarmusch weren’t thrilled with the prospect of ten million carnivorous corpses walking up to Fort Indiantown Gap as if it was their next dining facility.
“Thank you for your frank input, Captain Hastings,” Cornell said. “I think I can safely say that all of us here were thinking along those lines already, but hearing it come from you has solidified what our options are from here on out. Once this mission is over, we’ll need your input in the working group to help us plan our future COAs.”
Hastings almost smiled at the senator’s use of of the acronym for Course of Action. He liked it that the politician could speak his language. “Sir, if there is anything I can do, I’ll be glad to help out.”
Cornell turned to Victor and Jarmusch. “Gentlemen, do you have anything else you’d like to add?”
Both shook their heads, seemingly already deep in thought on things besides Hastings’s upcoming mission, which didn’t exactly thrill him. They were field grade officers—they should have been looking down the road for some time already. Hastings wondered what kind of vacuum they had been living in, given that he wasn’t the first soldier to come in from the field. Was New York really so much worse than everywhere else? Victor’s units had been forced to abandon Philadelphia. The colonel must’ve seen what Hastings was talking about, though perhaps on a smaller scale.
“Okay then, Captain Hastings,” Cornell said. “Please proceed with your mission.”
They all stood up and moved toward the conference room door. Hastings knew each man felt as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
*
“Kay, listen to me. I don’t want to fight over this.” Ballantine hated the pleading quality he heard in his own voice. “I was in a hurry. I had to go, and you knew what was happening.”
“It’s not what you said but the way you said it.” Even though she barely spoke above a whisper, her voice was hard and brittle. They had pushed two of the bunk units together, and they were sitting on the bottom one. It was getting dark, and soon, the boys would need to go to sleep in the beds above them.
“What do you mean? I told you how to use the radio in case you needed to.”
“I don’t know about those things, Carl. I might be an Army wife and know some of the lingo, but that doesn’t mean I know how to do all that stuff. You have to explain these things to me.”
“Babe, I didn’t have time. We were under attack!”
“Then you need to show me and the boys how to do these things when you do have time, in advance. You just can’t yell at us and expect us to know what to do.”
“Yell?” Ballantine squinted at her. “I didn’t yell. I was talking fast, and I might have been loud, but shit was happening.”
“Whatever you want to call it—I don’t like it when you talk to me like that, especially in front of the boys and everyone else.”
Ballantine realized he had fallen into the typical mantrap all men find themselves in at some point when dealing with women. He wasn’t going to do himself any favors if he continued with his logical explanation. To him and every other man still alive on the planet, he hadn’t done anything wrong, but Kay saw it otherwise. He knew logic wasn’t involved in her mind at this point; she felt he had yelled at her in front of the others and that was all that mattered to her. It was the classic Kobayashi Maru scenario, and only one course of action would de-escalate the situation.
“You’re right, Kay. I apologize for the way I spoke. I’ll make sure I sit down with you and the boys and go over how to do these things. I need to know that you can take care of yourselves when I’m not around.”
“That would be a great idea. The boys miss your attention. I think showing them things like that would really make their day. Not to mention, give them some time with their father.”
“You’re right. It’ll be good for everyone.” Ballantine raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of attention, when can I get some from you?”
He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her toward him. It had been a while since they had been intimate, and being so close to her only served to make him painfully aware of the fact.
“Carl, stop it. Not in front of every
one!”
Kay smiled, and looking into her eyes, he knew she wanted him, too. She gave him a quick kiss then broke free of his grasp. She turned and walked back toward the boys, who were playing on the other side of the room.
Fuck me. Like I don’t have enough to deal with, now I have to figure out how to find someplace to have sex with my own wife. Ballantine realized that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. As he watched his wife round up Curtis and Joshua and urge them to get ready for bed, he knew that a lot of things weren’t going to happen anytime soon. A Thanksgiving dinner at home. Taking the boys to their first drive-in, maybe to watch a revival of Planet of the Apes or something like that. Hunting turkeys on the grounds of Fort Drum. Kicking back on a Sunday afternoon and watching football, during which, Kay would ultimately root for every team he hated, like the accursed Dallas Cowboys.
Maybe one day, he’d be able to do all those things, but in the meantime, he had to get his shit squared away, keep his eye on the ball, and do his small part to save the nation from drowning beneath an ocean of walking dead bodies that ate live folks.
He wondered where Hastings was. He hadn’t seen the captain much since they’d gotten back to the fort. Chances were good he was briefing higher-ups, a mission that Ballantine was happy didn’t include him. He’d never been one to ingratiate himself with the echelons above reality, so if he could find a way to pass that shit on to Hastings, Ballantine was going to make it happen. Hastings would have a list of stuff that would need to get done when he made his cameo appearance in the barracks. With that thought in mind, Ballantine set out to find the rest of his men and check up on them.
*
Diana had been watching the exchange between Carl and Kay Ballantine. She couldn’t hear everything, but she could tell what was happening from their body language. Kay was displaying full Irate Woman stance, and her husband had the typical look of a guy getting verbally beaten without having a clue as to why he was getting bitched out.
Her time as a stripper had given the ability to read people and their body language pretty quickly. The need to learn that had been driven by simple economics. She had needed to be able tell the big spenders from the cheapskates. Looks alone didn’t mean anything. Younger guys might’ve looked great, but a girl could spend an entire night grinding her ass on one who would only tip a buck. The guys who looked to be wrapped too tight were the freest with their cash, and it didn’t matter if they wore a Brooks Brothers suit or jeans and a work shirt. Diana had learned quickly.
Her friend Nicole had been so ignorant that she couldn’t drive nails in the snow, but she was cute, with big tits and a nice body—everything guys liked in strippers. When Diana first met her, Nicole was working her ass off and not making much money, so she supplemented her nightly income by blowing guys. There was a quiet desperation in the girl’s eyes that Diana understood. In a rare display of compassion, Diana schooled Nicole on how to read people and to chat up guys to get them to buy lap dances.
Nicole eventually figured it out and started making better money. But one hot summer night, Diana had walked into the back room and found Nicole blowing some young guy. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Nicole raised her head, gave Diana a casual wave, then went back to sucking the guy off. Later, Diana asked Nicole if she was short on cash. When Nicole had said no and that she was making great money, Diana was a bit confused.
“So if you’re making enough money, why are you giving BJs in the back?”
Nicole sat down at the dressing room table and started brushing her long blond hair. She looked at Diana’s reflection in the mirror and shrugged. “Oh, you know. He was cute, and I like giving blowjobs, but I like getting paid for doing something I like even more. Besides, I only blow the cute ones and only when I feel like it.”
Several women who worked in the club sucked either cock or the glass pipe because they had to in order to make ends meet. But Nicole, stage name Destiny, with her toned, taut body and generously proportioned natural bosom, could just walk on the stage and make good money without any contact whatsoever. But there she was, on her knees, sucking strange dudes’ cocks because she thought it was fun. Diana couldn’t figure out what was fun about it. Sure, there were times when anonymous sex could be great. And there was a lot of money to be had by pulling escort duty—Diana had managed to secure a very select clientele who valued discretion and who took care of themselves.
Diana broke out of her reverie and saw that whatever Carl was saying to Kay was working. Kay’s body language had changed drastically, and she had apparently forgiven Carl for whatever he had done. Diana could also tell Carl was horny, and Kay was definitely reciprocating the feeling. She was sure they would be having sex later.
When was the last time I got laid? One good thing about being a stripper at a popular club was that there was never a shortage of guys, or women, for that matter. Diana had been amazed at the amount of working girls who would sleep with each other, treating the sex as though they had just asked for help with zipping up their dresses. Diana had been to some of their after-work breakfasts and pool parties. There was a lot of nudity, drugs, alcohol, and no shortage of girl-on-girl sex right in plain sight, yet every one of them would claim they weren’t lesbians and that they preferred men. Diana sighed. Those days were long gone, and she was sure all those girls were dead.
Thinking about sex reminded Diana she had an itch that she needed to have scratched. But which one to ask? She was on an Army base, and she knew GIs were always ready to get down and dirty, but she only had access to the guys in the group. All she would have to do is ask, and any of them would jump through however many hoops she set out. She’d seen the way they looked at her and her boobs. The only problem was she just wanted sex—nothing else—and that narrowed the field a little bit.
Ballantine was married, so he was out. Stilley was an idiot, and he had a bit of a body odor problem. Reader didn’t fire her rockets. He wasn’t ugly; he just didn’t do it for her. Tharinger was a bit too goofy, more kid than man. Hartman was a sweetheart, but that was the problem—Diana could tell he would become a lovesick puppy. So she was left with Guerra and Hastings.
Guerra was certainly on the dark and handsome side. He could be infuriating, but she liked the fact that he wasn’t afraid to hash it out with her. She imagined that sex with Guerra would be hard and physically charged. He had that rough-house, I-don’t-give-a-fuck, Latin air.
Hastings, on the other hand, had a cold smoldering heat about him. He was the buttoned-down type, kind of like the bankers and brokers who would visit the club in New York, but much more self-contained. He was also hurting, still mourning the loss of his family, and he would be for quite some time. But even through his pain, he was still a guy, and she had seen the way he looked at her sometimes.
What I wouldn’t give to have my vibrator right now. She smiled. I wonder if Guerra’s head would explode if I asked him to get me one? Or would he just actually go out and find one?
She shook her head. Going after any of the men might be a bad idea, especially if someone got jealous. Not to mention, there were kids around. She turned to the bunk next to hers. Kenny was curled up under the blankets, breathing gently. She wondered how she had wound up becoming his touchstone. Likely it was because she had been traveling with his family, and after they had been killed, she was all he recognized from his previous life. She felt sorry for him. Not only had he lost his family, he’d been raped by those troglodytes. At least Hastings and the men had made them pay for it, which suited her just fine. But she was stuck with an autistic kid who needed someone with a lot more mojo than a stripper, someone who knew how to take care of kids.
Diana had never been particularly interested in having a family of her own, especially after watching her parents’ marriage disintegrate because of serial cheating on her father’s part and money mismanagement on her mother’s. But her father had wound up with a couple of pretty daughters, and her mother had gotten all the Hermes and LV pu
rses she could handle. Great for them, but Diana had seen the acrimony and ritual humiliation up close, and that had pretty much extinguished any desire to continue the family line.
She glanced at Kenny again. If what the troops said was true, all those MREs would ensure the kid wouldn’t be shitting himself anytime soon. At least she had that going for her.
*
Hastings brought over the operational orders for the mission and told Ballantine to give them a second set of eyes. Ballantine had to give the light infantry captain credit. Unlike a lot of officers, Hastings had no problem seeking out the opinions of his senior NCO, even if he was just a sergeant first class as opposed to the customary first sergeant. Ballantine sat at the table at the front of the barracks to work while Kay put the boys to bed.
Hastings was going over the pilots’ brief to make sure he had covered all the bases. “Almost done with the air assault piece, and then all I have left is the ISR. Shouldn’t take me long to knock that out.”
“No problem, sir,” Ballantine said. “I’ve adjusted our reverse planning schedule, and we’re still doing fine on time. I’ve got the guys working on the sand table already. They should have it done in time for you to take a look at it before you issue the order.” The sand table was a diorama of the post and surrounding area set up on a table in the back corner of the tactical operations center. Though not particularly detailed or to scale, it served its purpose as a miniature proving ground for the upcoming operation.
“Good deal. I want to go to the S2 right after this to see if there are any updates or changes, just in case the Shadow has picked up any movements along the route or at the objective.”
These Dead Lands: Immolation Page 23
