After three days, the people started getting better. The symptoms began while they were working in the particular part of the tunnel where they found the water and appeared to simply disappear.
“We need to take a look at the area they were working in,” Doc told Bill after the random recovery took place.
Gas masks were donned and a few men proceeded to assist the doctor with his investigation.
“What are we looking for?” Jim asked after they arrived at the work area.
“I don’t know, exactly, but keep an eye out for anything unusual,” Doc replied.
The men used lights to look at the walls, ground and ceiling on their side, the pool area, and the other side without any luck.
“What’s the guys name Dave and Sara sent to us a couple weeks ago?” Jim asked. “You know, the doctor with the glasses who scares the kids when he walks by.”
“You mean Brian,” Doc said. “I believe he said he used to be a biology teacher.”
“We should have him come down here and take a look around.”
“I can go get him,” Bill offered.
A few minutes later, Brian showed up and started looking. “The fungus on the rocks, it’s glowing after you take the light away,” he said
“Ok,” Jim said. “And what does it mean?”
“I’m not sure, but do you see the particles falling in the light?”
“It looks like dust,” said Matt.
“It is dust, a certain kind of dust. I think the fungus is shooting out spores because it doesn’t like the light.”
“You mean like a defense mechanism?” asked Doc.
“Exactly,” Brian said. “We would need to take some samples and run some tests to make sure, but I imagine we found the reason those men became sick.”
“If we had the right equipment, we could, but I agree with your thoughts, Brian. I’m sure you’re right.”
“It sounds reasonable,” Jim said. “No one’s became sick from drinking the water, and just passing through didn’t give a person enough time to inhale many spores. Why don’t we tarp the ceiling so the fungus can stay in the dark?”
“It would keep the spores from being inhaled by anyone,” Brian agreed.
A team was assembled and went into the tunnel and stream area to place the tarp. Lights had to be used during the process, so they wore masks again. A week was allotted for the spores to settle and hopefully not cause any more problems.
The original construction on the tunnel continued after the week of allotted time and the bridge, pumphouse and new water system were up and running in no time.
“What an interesting one,” Doc said to Bill once everything settled down.
“How do you mean?” asked Bill.
“Well, we’ve had combat wounds and a lack of proper food and supplies and no one has really come down with a cold, flu or infection until this. I’m just saying that a fungus is all it took to stop work in its tracks and we have been at this, what, more than a year now?”
“I know what you mean.” Bill said. “We’ve had it pretty good so far.”
The people of the underground community had come together not only as neighbors, but as American patriots fighting for the freedom they once had and wanted again so badly. They had been driven from their homes and some were forced to live like animals in sub-standard conditions. Now they were in a good place, thriving and as happy as they would allow themselves to be. They would continue to “fight the good fight,” and never give up hope.
“Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.”
—Martin Luther King, Jr.
Chapter Twenty-Five
In the early morning hours, a man on close perimeter security was found by his relief with his throat slit. The man was thought to have fallen asleep at his post but when his relief pushed him to wake him up, his head nearly fell off. Radios were buzzing with questions as many people awoke. An immediate investigation was launched.
“What are your thoughts Jim?” asked Rick as they made their way to the post where the body had been discovered.
“I think we have a problem,” Jim answered. “The furthest perimeter outposts said they saw no sign of someone slipping through. Between the guard shacks, the traps and the trenches, no one could get in here unless they knew the layout. They either parachuted in or we have an internal issue.”
“The other sentries have been accounted for and nothing else out of the ordinary has been reported either,” Matt said.
“Matt, you’re the closest we have to law enforcement. Would you mind taking charge here and figuring out who did this?” asked Jim.
“I’ll get right on it. I don’t want anyone to go anywhere alone until we’ve caught the person or persons responsible. Security will have to be tightened up considerably.”
They had a community meeting and told everyone, no matter what they did or where they traveled, to have at least one or more persons with them and each child had to have an adult with them wherever they went. People were demanding guns to protect themselves and inquiring how this could have happened. Jim spoke up.
“We have properly trained personnel who carry firearms. We don’t need anyone to get shot because you thought he or she had tried to hurt you. Listen, people, most of us have lived and fought together for more than a year, and some closer to two. This has to be someone who infiltrated the compound. We will find the perpetrator. Please, cooperate with Matt. He’s in charge of the investigation. If any of you can contribute helpful information, please talk to him,” Jim insisted.
People were uneasy, and with good cause. Security on the perimeter was doubled, as was internal security. Jessie installed the few remaining unused cameras she had left in vital areas and put in a request for more from town.
Screaming could be heard early the next morning as a winter storm approached. Someone found a posted militia member right outside the cave entrance with her throat cut exactly like the man the day before. The man who had been on post with her, Pvt. Sanderson couldn’t be found anywhere. Teams searched half the day for the other man. Bill, Jim, Terry and Matt finally located him by the outside perimeter, having suffered the same fate. None of them had any weapons or personal belongings missing. They were displayed the same way as the first victim. Sitting down, propped up like they were sleeping.
“How the hell did he get outside our perimeter without being seen? Better yet, how did someone get him through the perimeter unnoticed?” asked Matt, as the original group of men stood around.
“Did anyone let Collins know about Sanderson?” Jim asked.
“I’ll give him the news when he gets here,” Bill said.
“Roger that. Matt, you keep up the investigation. Rick, you and the rest of the troops are now on high alert. I’m taking Terry with me to town to get cameras even if we have to permanently borrow them. No one is to leave or enter besides us. I want restricted movements inside and out. After setting trip wires with flares attached, pull everyone back from perimeter security to the cave entrance. Sentries can use binoculars during the day and night vision goggles and thermal imaging at night to watch the perimeter. Terry and I will take the north exit from the cabin side. Everyone is to be accounted for at all times.”
Trip wires were set as they made their way up the mountain, and each person on duty had been given their orders. FOB Talladega had been put on lockdown, as well. Until the perpetrators were found out, no one could move freely throughout the area, inside or out.
“Jessie, I want someone to be posted at these screens continuously, no exceptions,” Jim told her. “Terry and I are going to town to get more cameras to be placed where they’re needed.”
“I’ll need more screens too,” she said.
“We’ll get them.” Jim and Terry jumped on their snowmobiles and headed down the mountain.
Jessie watched as the two men passed the western most surveillance camera which happened to still be operational in the col
d weather.
“I hope they hurry.” she said to Bill.
“Take a deep breath, we know it’s no one on this side of the mountain,” he said. “But will the murderer stay away?”
“As far as anyone here’s aware of, nobody else knows about this side,” she said.
“They have to wonder what’s on the other side of the door is in the middle of the tunnel,” Bill said.
“Why would they question it?” she asked. “We’ve taken care of them for this long.”
“I agree,” Bill replied. “Someone will eventually become curious.”
“I don’t understand people sometimes. They know they have it better than most, and they still can’t mind their own business.”
Matt and Rick were busy setting up what they hoped would be the next target. All personnel had been pulled back to the cave, and most of the inhabitants were in their rooms. They positioned snipers; men they knew were loyal, with thermal-imaging and night-vision devices in the main cave. Rick was on tunnel security by the door leading to the water, with Peter, one of the men they came across in the field with the first supply drop after the Marines landed. He was a sheriff’s deputy from Nevada and had been on vacation with his wife when the U.N. invaded the area. His wife died at the hands of the enemy troops entered the cabin they were staying at with Diana, Roger and several others.
At four a.m. men rotated shifts at the cave entrance. Rick pretended to go to sleep at his post when Peter left to use the restroom.
“OK, he’s coming up behind you now, let it happen.” Jim said. He had returned at about midnight and infiltrated the perimeter outside the cave entrance so he could wait for the opportunity to catch the killer. He slipped past the sentries on post. He’d deal with them later. “If this is the guy, then he’ll be on you any second.”
Not long after Peter left, Rick felt his head being pulled back and a knife placed across his throat. He slumped down in the chair and Jim took the shot with a silenced rifle. He hit the man in the left shoulder and spun him around. Rick bounced back to his feet and aimed his rifle at the man, then turned his weapon light on. It turned out to be Dmitri, who had been vetted months prior when he came to them with information.
“Why?” Rick asked.
“For my world!” he yelled as he tried to cut his own throat, but Rick was too fast. He kicked the knife out of Dmitri’s hand. Within seconds, six rifles were pointed at Dmitri.
“Take him to a holding cell,” Jim said.
They handcuffed him and four men escorted him to a secure room. Doc would need to see him, to tend to his wound.
At breakfast a few hours later, Bill asked the men, “How did you know it was Dmitri?”
Matt recounted the story for everyone. “The serrations on Dmitri’s knife, along with his strength were the main things that gave him away. The serrations were larger than most other knives around, and with the imprint he had left on one of the most recent victims, it was just a matter of narrowing things down. Not many people could carry Sanderson down the mountain either, or sneak through the perimeter. He had firsthand knowledge of each person, patrols and security procedures. He did his best, but the guys who helped me were better.”
“What will you do with him?” asked Jessie.
“We will interrogate him and get as much information out of him as we can before he faces the firing squad,” Jim said. “He’s committed treason and will pay the ultimate price.”
“We already knew he didn’t really come from Nikolaevsk,” Rick offered.
Dmitri, or Yuri, which turned out to be his real name, had been prior Russian Spetsnaz, had to be questioned for days before he would give anything up, and when he did, he didn’t offer much. He infiltrated the mountain under the guise of being from a local village, primarily to cause internal chaos. The NWA knew the location of the stronghold and would come for them before long, or so he claimed.
“Put everything and everyone back to standard security,” Jim said during a meeting for the militia. “We will still put up the new surveillance cameras and until further notice. No new people will be allowed to enter the compound. We’ll hold services for the three soldiers once the storm breaks and we can dig graves.”
The militia dispersed once the briefing was over. Many were still on edge after what the man named Yuri had done. His facade had fooled all of them.
December 9th
Another hurdle conquered. What’s next for us to overcome? We only want to help our countrymen, but how do we know who we can trust? The community we’re protecting isn’t a huge one, but it’s not little either. For now, we need to focus on who and what we have.
“Let us raise a standard to which the wise and honest can repair; the rest is in the hands of God.”
—George Washington
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Can you believe it’s been a year and a half since we came up here?” Matt said to Jim as they sat in front of the large fireplace in the cabin.
“It’s been a little longer than that hasn’t it?”
“Nope, we came here in July, when this started.”
“We may have a problem,” Bill said as he walked in.
“What’s going on?” Jim asked.
“This is the second day in a row that we haven’t heard from the outpost in town and I can’t raise Dave or Sara, either.”
“Why are we just now hearing about this?”
“When Jessie told me we had no contact yesterday, I wanted to give them 24 hours. It’s been real quiet lately, and I figured it wasn’t a huge deal, until now.”
“Keep trying to contact them. We’ll go into town in the morning if they’re still dark.”
“Sounds good,” Bill agreed.
Dave finally contacted them on the encrypted radio early the next morning. Eric, who’d been manning the surveillance screens and radio, went to get Jim and Bill.
“Where the hell have you been?” Jim asked.
“The generator ran out of fuel and I couldn’t charge the radio’s battery pack. Listen, I need the team leaders to come to my house. A meeting has been set up with influential people from the surrounding communities.”
“Roger that, we’ll leave immediately.”
“You know what this means,” Bill said.
“I do. The enemy’s waiting for us to show up.”
“What about Dave and Sara?”
“This might turn into a recovery mission instead of a rescue one. We better get the troops ready.”
The following day, a force of 35 militia members left the compound in the early morning hours, loaded with ammo, grenades and many other essentials. They knew they were in for a fight and went as prepared as possible. Jessie was tasked with trying to get the Marines on a secure net to provide assistance. The militia wouldn’t know if she got through unless the cavalry showed up.
The trip down the mountain was slow going, but with so much darkness this time of year, they had all the time they needed.
Under the cover of darkness, with stealth, night vision and thermal imaging, they were able to locate all the hidden NWA troops and position their own. They started on the perimeter and made their way toward the house. Small teams took the enemy out silently with knives close up and silencers on rifles and handguns.
“Move ahead slowly and watch for tripwires and explosives,” Jim whispered to Sgt. Collins when his team made it to the opening of the secret underground passage leading into the basement. “We aren’t sure if they know about this entrance.”
“All clear,” Collins said a few minutes after making it through to the inside door.
“Stack up and get ready to breach,” Jim told them over the radio.
With two squelches of the radio, the team entered the basement while the militia troops on the outside simultaneously cut the power. The team inside assaulted the house, room by room like trained experts, but found it to be empty. Rick and his team met them at the front door. Dave and Sara were in the living room, tied to chairs.
When the troops approached, Dave told them to get back. They had been booby-trapped with explosives.
“This is Alpha Two,” said Rick. “Get the lights back on and get Peter in here. We need an explosives expert.”
“I want everyone to stay alert,” ordered Jim over the radio. “Keep night vision and thermal on. I want to know if anyone sees anything out of the ordinary.”
The militia troops maintained a 360-degree perimeter around the house and spread out for 200 yards.
“Let’s get these off of you,” Peter told Dave and Sara. He started working and removed the explosives.
“Did that seem too easy, or is it just me?” Rick asked.
“Either that, or I’m just that good,” Peter fired back, grinning with pride.
“Grab whatever you need. We’re leaving and not coming back,” Jim told the couple.
“I’ll help you,” said Danny.
As they were leaving the house, the radio erupted with, “Incoming troops!” A firefight lit up the perimeter. Tracer fire could be seen like lasers being turned on all around. Explosions could be heard, seen and felt.
“They’re shooting RPGs from all around us!” someone yelled on the radio as machine-gun and other small arms fire filled the air.
The enemy troops were far away and nobody could actually confirm any hits. Two militia members were shot, and others reported minor wounds from shrapnel.
“Fall back, I say again fall back!” Jim ordered. The militia members fell back to the safety of the house.
“We’re sitting ducks here,” Rick said, frustrated, as he fired his rifle out of an already broken kitchen window toward a flash of light.
“Can we go out through the tunnel?” someone asked.
“I just came up from the basement,” Collins said. “The tunnel has collapsed.”
“Give me a staggered formation and move north!” Jim said. They fought their way out the back of the house and encountered light resistance the further away they moved, and quickly found out why. The NWA troops had pulled back because of the air strike the militia saw pound the house and vicinity right after they left.
Uncertain Times: A Story of Survival Page 14
