Thompson looked at the empty beer in his hand, turned to Andy and asked “Ready for a refill?” Andy shook his head and replied, “One’s my limit, being that I’m an old fat guy. The rest are all yours.”
Michelle knew for a fact that one was definitely not Andy’s limit, and almost called him out on it before she realized what he was doing. Alcohol . . . one of nature’s oldest truth serums. Thompson looked at Michelle for confirmation, and she reinforced Andy’s statement about the rest being his.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Thompson said as he walked into the kitchen to get another beer from the six pack outside. He was back a few seconds later and continued. “We got back to the staging area . . . it was at the guard armory on the northwest side of Bismarck. Shoot, it looked like a war zone there. They had two IFV’s—infantry fighting vehicles—Bradleys . . . out front, and they were hot and ready to go. Everywhere I looked it seemed like some dude was mounting a 50 cal to a Hummer or carrying crates of ammo. There were even four Black Hawks that were still powering down out on the parade field. Anyhow they stopped us, and I mean at gunpoint stopped us . . . had us get out of our vehicle and some corpsman shined a light in our eyes and used one of those ear thermometers on us. Then they asked us a bunch of questions—where we were, what did we see, did we have any contact with infected people—a whole bunch more too. After that they gave us each a coded plastic wristband to put on. We got shuffled toward a big tent that they must have recently set up; it wasn’t there a few days ago. Anyway, there was a line outside the tent and a bunch more guys were pulling security and watching the line. They had a Hummer parked nearby and some cold-eyed regular army mo’fo was staring down a 240 at us. Carney looked at me and said, ‘How much you want to bet that they gave these guys ammo?’ It might’ve been funny at another time but we weren’t laughing then.”
Thompson stopped and took a few swigs of his beer, still pacing as he continued. “Yeah, so we’re in this line and I notice that the security detail watching us are all wearing masks. Not like NBC gear, just like those ones they wear at the hospital, ‘cept these were OD green. We got shuffled through, then into a tent where they had us strip down. Then they sprayed us with some foul smelling shit—made us stand there with our arms up for a few minutes, and then hosed us down. And it wasn’t just us; it was like a whole line of people. Guys, girls, adults . . . kids too. Everybody just standing there naked. Anyway, they moved us forward where they gave us a paper towel, and I mean that literally, it was like a beach towel only made of paper. I think it was just a section of one of those disposable table runners they use at banquets. So we dried ourselves and they gave us this . . . I don’t know . . . like one of those hospital-type gowns to wear. The lines split from there, and me and Carney got separated for a while. So I moved forward and the next area they scanned my wrist band, took my temperature again, and looked in my eyes. Again. After that I got hustled into another section where some guy asked me a bunch of the same questions I answered before. Keep in mind the whole time I was moving forward to these different sections of the tent; there were armed guards all around. So finally they escorted a group of us into another tent, scanned our wristband as we entered and told us to have a seat. It was heated, barely, and there were a few porta-potties for us to use. But nothing else, no food, water . . . nothing but the toilets and the guards.
Thompson finished his beer and retrieved another. “We were there a few hours when some lady came in, regular army, and announced something like, ‘Look at your wrist band, you will find a color code at the end. This has nothing to do with your medical status. It only relates to the initial time you were processed. We will be calling you one color group at a time for further processing. Please follow the instructions of all medical and security personnel without question. Failure to comply with directions may result in immediate detainment, arrest, or the use of force. Please be aware that security personnel are authorized to use deadly force.’ So she leaves, and a few minutes later they called for the red group. Me and Carney were green. About an hour later they called us—scanned our wrist band as we left the tent—scanned it again when we entered another one about a hundred feet away. Someone had painted a big green circle above the doorway of that tent. More of the same shit followed—questions, eyes and temperature. Only thing that was different was one of the people in the green group apparently failed one of the checks. The next thing I know they cuffed him, shot him full of some drug and carried him out the door. A few minutes later we heard gunshots from somewhere outside . . . somewhere close by. It happened a few times.” Michelle watched as Thompson bowed his head a little, gave it a little shake, and took a deep breath before he continued.
“We were in there for at least twelve hours, and every hour it was the same crap—questions, eyes and temperature. Two more people were removed from the green group during that time. But hell, almost every hour you’d hear gunshots. I don’t know what color group they were from. So finally some guy comes in with a clipboard and starts calling off names. Me and Carney were some of the first to get called. They scanned our wristbands again as we left, and we ended up following some corporal to another tent where they reissued us this fine desert camo you see. New weapons too. Anyhow, from there it was straight into a truck. It was a little after midnight by then. There were thirty of us packed in that truck, about half the guys were from my original unit. That truck sat there idling with us in the back until dawn. At dawn we pulled into a line of other trucks, refueled, and hit the road. The word was we were heading towards Canada to reinforce the border. All I know is that I slept. When I woke up I found myself in the quaint little vacation town of Fort Hammer. That was yesterday. I think. Well maybe the day before since it’s after midnight now.”
Michelle was still full from the meal of soup and ravioli—not stuffed—just content, but as Thompson continued on she darted into the kitchen and opened another box of crackers . . . Ritz this time. She brought those out along with jars of peanut butter and jelly, and soon had a miniature assembly line going. Cracker, peanut butter, plate . . . cracker, jelly, plate. When the plate was completely covered, she motioned for Andy and Thompson to join her on the couch, and they quickly devoured the snacks. Michelle refilled her cup of tea, Andy’s water, and Thompson’s beer hand—there were only two more left in the six pack. And they were now out of peanut butter, jelly, and crackers.
Thompson stood up and started pacing again. “So we pulled off the highway in downtown Fort Hammer. A couple of minutes later somebody shouted for the senior officer in each transport to dismount. That was CC. We could already hear gunfire and smell smoke. Whatever had happened, we had missed the beginning of. Then again, it had been happening for a week down in Bismarck, so it was nothing new. ‘Bout fifteen later, CC hops back in the truck and says that most of us are going to be continuing on to the border. Some units, however, were going to be deployed in Fort Hammer to set up a secondary staging area. Our guard unit was one that got picked to stay. We ended up at the school—your local volunteer firemen and cops had already started setting it up as a shelter. I ain’t sure who was coordinating it before we got there, but I think they should have kept them in charge. That didn’t happen though. There was me and sixteen other guys from my unit; another squad of guardsman, and about a dozen regular army guys . . . all under command of that prick Colonel Jordan. A bunch of civies also. Mostly medical I think. So Colonel Jordan started spouting off, ‘By order of the President of United States . . .’ and all that crap, then he started ordering everybody around. My unit had security detail around the school. Our orders were short and simple, nobody gets in, nobody leaves. Any local that showed up could wait on the athletic field until the school was prepped. A couple hours later there was probably two . . . maybe three hundred people waiting on the athletic field—most of them had already been in the school and safe when we got there, but the bastard kicked them out into the cold. Anyhow, we didn’t have too many problems, at least until the buses showed u
p.”
“What buses?” Andy asked.
“I don’t know,” Thompson answered, “about twenty-five or thirty buses came screaming down the highway from the north, I guess they came from the border. About half of them stopped right in the middle of the road near the strip malls, the other half kept going. You can see part of the highway that runs through town from where the school sits on that little hill, so we had a pretty good view. So they stopped and we could see some figures moving, but not much else because the doors to the buses were facing away from us. Then gunfire started popping. Next thing we see through our binoculars is what looks like a mob of people streaming around the buses. Just running everywhere . . . it looked to me like they were trying to get away from the buses. Some of the buses started pulling out, but we started to see smoke from some other ones. Next thing I know, two of the buses are burning pretty good, and three more veered off the road and crashed into some buildings, then they start to burn too. About that time Captain Walker—regular army guy—comes out and tells us to maintain security while they get the people on the field inside the school. So anyhow, it took a few hours but they ended up getting everybody back in the school, and nobody got shot. Yet. It was getting dark by then and my unit got relieved and was told to go inside and get some chow. We walked inside and it was like being back in the tent at the armory—signs everywhere—all the civies wearing wristbands and hospital gowns. A lot of people pissed off too. Some nut job, staff weenie was talking over the school’s intercom repeating the same shit I had heard when I was at the armory . . . ‘Stay calm, processing will take some time, it’s for your safety and the safety of your family’ . . . blah blah blah. Oh, and I forgot, Black Hawks had been landing off and on the whole time, mostly dropping off more people and supplies. Two more Bradleys showed up and parked outside the front doors just after dark. Seems to me like they were moving the entire medical . . . I don’t know . . . ‘triage area’ . . . from the armory up to here. We ate and got a few hours of shut eye. Around midnight we started to hear the “thump, thump, thump” of the 50 cal’s firing, then the 240’s opened up. We could hear some muffled screams and shouts, and somebody shouting into a megaphone or PA to ‘Stay back or you will be fired upon.’ It went on for about twenty minutes. About 1:00 AM, our lieutenant came in and got us . . . took us to some classroom where we all waited. I don’t know when . . . maybe forty-five or an hour later, Colonel Jordon shows up with that medical guy I told you about earlier. Again, it really seemed to me like they were just trying to pacify us, but they said it was a ‘developing situation’ and that until we had solid evidence to the contrary, anybody with elevated temperatures would be quarantined, and that anybody who’s eye color changed would be terminated. Colonel Jordan started spewing all that patriotic crap about how it was our duty to follow orders, even if those orders resulted in the death of American citizens, because by following those orders we would be saving many more.
Captain Walker had come in during this speech, and after the colonel left, he kind of shook his head. I’m not sure but I thought I saw him mouth the word ‘Idiot’ after the colonel was gone. So he started giving us our orders.
‘Direct from the colonel’s mouth,’ he said. ‘Objective one—secure the AO. At 0600, both of the guard units will reposition to the center of town, securing a forward position that will enable continued contact with civilian personnel. Civilians showing no sign of infection will be escorted to the medical processing area. Suspected cases of infection will be detained in a separate holding environment to be set up by guard units upon arrival. Objective two—decontamination of occupied areas within city limits. Concurrent to objective one, guard units will conduct coordinated search efforts with the emphasis on maintaining safety standards pursuant to . . . .’ The captain stopped reading, looked around the room at us and said, ‘Off the record, the colonel is an asshole and doesn’t know shit about not getting his men killed. On the record, the colonel is a giant, ragged, flaming asshole and doesn’t know shit about not getting his men killed.’ We just sat there, stunned and silent but laughing our asses off inside. I think most of us had already picked up on the fact that Colonel Jordan was a douche bag. Captain Walker leans out into the hallway and looks both ways, probably checking to make sure the colonel wasn’t eavesdropping, then shuts the door and says, ‘All squad leaders will stay behind after this meeting is over. In the meantime men, suffice it to say that your orders from Colonel Jordan are going to be . . . ahem . . . “modified to encompass unexpected terrain features.” I will not let you go on a suicide mission. I’ll brief your lieutenants on the specifics—they’ll pass it on to you. Make no mistake people, this shit is for real. Your primary mission will be to secure civilian lives. You will not do so at the cost of your own. I’m not a doctor, and I promise you that I’m breaking about twenty national security acts just by telling you this, but gentlemen, if you get bit, in all likelihood you will become infected. There is currently no cure, no vaccine. Nothing. So watch your ass out there, and watch each other’s back at all times. Squad leaders stay seated, the rest of you . . . dismissed.’”
Andy and Michelle watched as Thompson moved to the window, slid the blinds aside and watched the storm for a while. He turned away from the window and walked toward the restroom. “Be right back,” he said.
“Where do you suppose Eric is right now?” Michelle asked Andy.
“That boy ain’t right in the head.” Andy laughed as he continued, “If I didn’t love him so much, and personally think that you two would make a wonderful pair, I’d probably warn you off of having anything to do with him. But like I said, he’s a strange bird. I’d say there’s about a fifty-fifty chance that he’s either holed up in an old bear den, or standing out in this winter monsoon and fishing. And if he’s in the bear den, there’s a fifty-fifty chance that the bear is still in there.”
Michelle chuckled along with Andy, mostly on autopilot though . . . Her mind was still reeling from Andy’s admission about her and Eric making a wonderful pair.
Andy continued, “To answer your question however, I’d have to guess that he’s up in the area where Doc’s granddaughter is supposed to be.”
Thompson came back from the bathroom, veered into the kitchen and retrieved the last two beers from the porch. He drained one with what could only be classified as a “frat house chug,” and positioned the other for immediate access. “Where was I?” he asked.
“Your squad had just left the meeting.”
“Yeah. That’s right. So my squad goes back to the classroom we had commandeered to try and get some more rest. About an hour later CC comes in and lays it out for us. We were going to hitch a ride in the Bradleys down to the center of town, check out the situation from inside the armor before we deployed. Once there we would set up a forward ‘safe zone’ to concentrate civilian evacuees. The Bradleys would pull back a short way to avoid attracting unwanted attention, but at the same time they’d be able to give us support fire if we needed it. I said to the lieutenant, ‘Damn, LT, “unwanted attention,” . . . what kind of bullshit is that?’ And he said that the M2s were supposed to stay on-site as per the colonel’s orders, but that tomorrow morning Captain Walker was going to release them for a round of ‘perimeter security sweeps.’ Anyhow, the short of it is that Captain Walker wanted them close enough to give us fire support and evac potential, but couldn’t have them sitting in the middle of town where the colonel might see them.
“This Captain Walker seems like a standup guy,” Andy said.
Thompson nodded. “Yeah, he was.”
“Was?” both Andy and Michelle echoed simultaneously.
“Yeah, I’m getting to that. So anyhow, we tried to get some more shuteye, but about 4:00 AM we started hearing a bunch of screaming and yelling out in the hall. CC opened the door and we filed out behind him in case he got into some shit. It was like we walked right into a meeting of the brass. Colonel Jordan, Captain Walker, another captain I had never met, and a fe
w lieutenants, all regular army. And then there were two guys in suits, they had those little . . . um . . . I don’t know what you call them. I guess like a pocket protector ID. Like an official name tag that hung from the front pocket of the suits they wore. Big bold letters across the top of the ID that said, “Department of Homeland Security.” So that group was standing in front of another group, civies. About twenty to thirty I guess. From what I could gather the civilians were pissed off about the way they were being treated after they had cleared medical, and a bunch of other stuff too. I recognized some of them. There were two volunteer firemen, the mayor or councilman of Fort Hammer, some guy I think was a local cop, and a few others, business owners mostly. Anyhow, like I said they were all pissed off about the colonel pushing everybody around. Then the colonel turns to Walker and orders him to arrest the civilians, all of them. The captain refused. So Colonel Jordan started calling Captain Walker a chicken shit, insubordinate coward, and that’s when Capitan Walker turns to the colonel and just lays into him. It was beautiful. It was a flat out sucker punch followed by several boots, but it was beautiful. At least until he got dragged off of him. So they had Captain Walker held with his face against the wall, and one of the suits turns to Colonel Jordan and says something like, ‘On my authority, I find that Captain Walker is guilty of conduct unbecoming an officer, grossed insubordination and treason. The penalty for these offenses is death, to be carried out now.’”
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