The worst part had been tearing the uniforms off the dead men. They needed to dress like the bikers if they wanted the ruse to work, but he was uncomfortable wearing anything with bullet holes in it. If the others had similar misgivings, they didn’t share them. Everyone got on the bikes wearing the black pants and heavy long-sleeve shirts of the invaders.
“I’ll miss your beach clothes,” Ted said to Emily in a friendly voice. “Especially that big bag. It would have been a nice place to store all our ammo.”
“You might see it again,” she said mysteriously.
Since the dead men didn’t ride with rifles or packs, Ted made the call to hide theirs in the trunk of the getaway car parked behind the store. They’d keep their pistols, and some of them carried more than one. However, the long guns might give them away when they went into the base. It was another of his calculated risks.
Another gamble was identification. They could have all lifted ID badges off the dead men, but it would do the women no good, since none of the dead were female. However, Ted took one from a man who somewhat resembled him, figuring it would give him a chance if someone asked for it.
“I’m Klaus Mitter, from…” He assumed it would have city and state, like every ID badge he’d ever had, but it didn’t. “It says I’m from Black Site Mike 10.”
“That sounds mysterious,” Kyla said dramatically.
“What do you make of it?” Emily asked, more seriously.
He had no idea, but he guessed anyway. “I think they’re trying to hide where they’re really from. If this said Bob Smith, Albion, Indiana, we’d know how to track him down.”
“Well, Klaus, let’s go.” Emily laughed.
They ran into one last problem before they pulled out of the parking lot. Emily was famous for her ability to operate machinery, but she reluctantly admitted she couldn’t drive a motorcycle. He smiled, happy in his own way he’d found another weakness in the woman, but it meant they had to ride in pairs.
Emily rode behind him. Kyla had to ride behind Meechum, since his niece couldn’t drive one either. The original owners didn’t have helmets, so they traveled without them.
He almost enjoyed the highway speeds as they cruised across the flat plains of the North Dakota highway, but he had to restore his game face as they approached the front gate of the base. A pair of black-clad soldiers stood in front of the heavy mesh gate, rifles at the ready. The first one held up his hand, signaling they needed to stop.
Emily spoke in his ear. “This is nothing like last night. They look like they’re waiting for us.”
He allowed himself a peek over to the runway on his left. The fighter jets were all gone, as were most of the giant transport planes. It was hard to hear anything with the engine sounds of the bikes, but he looked up on a hunch; sure enough, two jets were high above, perhaps looping the air base as an air patrol.
Ted got close, but he didn’t turn off the engine, hoping they would wave him through. However, they motioned for him to shut it off. Emily squeezed him as if they were going to be discovered.
The weird giraffe-things remained along the edges of the runway, but there seemed to be more of them. A couple held position near the front gate, giving him a good look at their construction. Their bodies were about the size of a subcompact car, though it was rounded on bottom and flatter on top. Their long metal legs emerged from joints near each corner, giving the bodies the appearance of animals. The lone neck tube set in the front furthered the illusion of a giraffe. The thin metallic heads were on swivels, and he took a guess they were watching him with mechanical eyes.
The guard came up to him and spoke broken English with an accent he couldn’t identify. “You just left. Why back so soon?” Maybe eastern European, or one of the nations in the Middle East.
Ted had his story teed up and ready to go. “We had a malfunction. One of the tanks ruptured and blew up right as we were ripping a new one inside an Arby’s restaurant. Almost lost my whole crew.” He motioned to the women behind him, hoping they wouldn’t get too much scrutiny. If the bad guys didn’t use women for their fire duties, they’d have to get out in a hurry.
The man said, “You look like hell. You are injured?”
He didn’t take it personally. Their faces were blackened by the initial blast in the store. Kyla even found some strands of her hair had been burned. His niece also wore a strip of black cloth around her neck from her injury. It was an easy sell to appear like they’d suffered a fiery malfunction. Ted nodded grimly and took a chance by glaring at the man square in the eyes. “I lost three men. How do you think I feel?”
Tension ran along the razor’s edge as he held the man’s gaze, but the guard relented before he did. “Sorry,” the guy replied. “We’re under strict lockdown. The American leftovers destroyed our forward air base in Amarillo, and command is worried this one might get the hit, too. But you’ve suffered enough. I’ll let you through.”
Ted found a suitable reply steeped with regret, but filled with bravery, as he imagined how these men were feeling. “Thanks. When we get back out there, we’re going to pay those rebels back ten-fold.”
Good job, rebels, whomever you are.
“We’re the rebels,” the guard said emphatically before speaking more cordially. “Good luck on finding the Americans, though. I heard there’s not more than twenty on this side of the Mississippi. Not much to worry about, right?” The guard stepped back and made like he was going to the guard shack to open the gate, but he stopped at the door. “Hey, wait!”
Ted’s stomach did a freefall. He had a vision of how that other attack far away had made his life unexpectedly more difficult. He’d saluted the people who may now get him killed. “Yeah?”
The guard reached into his shack and pulled out a clipboard. “I need write in my log. Just tell me your name.”
He almost melted with relief. “Klaus Mitter.”
“Got it.” The man waved to his buddy to open the gate. “Go on through. Hope your day gets better.”
Oh, it will.
They were in.
Folsom, CA
“Welcome to the Folsom Lake!” a man in a white jumpsuit shouted into his microphone. “Find your seats and we’ll get started momentarily.” The eighteen-wheeler flatbed carried a bank of speakers that might have been stolen from a rock concert.
Thousands of bikers had parked along the abandoned four-lane highway, which ran along the edge of the huge lake. Most of them walked up a nearby grass-covered hill, which provided views of the lake and hydroelectric dam to the north and the city of Folsom to the south. None of the people around him knew what to expect, but most thought it would be a flyby over the water of some of the captured military equipment, so most faced that way.
“You feeling better after last night?” Bernard asked him once they’d made it to the hilltop and found a place to sit.
Dwight wasn’t certain what took place the night before. He recognized he’d had one of his “episodes,” but his lack of ability to remember anything he’d said disturbed him to the bone. His only hope was to pretend. “I feel much better, thanks. My nightmares have been getting worse, I think. Ever since I was in that shipping container.” The deflection was a tactic he’d learned on the streets. When the police came over to ask questions, whether he was guilty or not, he acted like the voices were inside his head.
“You came over in one of them boxes? No wonder you’ve got issues.” Bernard laughed, and Dwight found himself liking the guy, despite his role in burning everything.
Poppy soared above the crowd, the stiff breeze letting her sail without flapping her wings. She tried to inject herself into the conversation, but he was glad she was out of earshot. He didn’t need to hear her to know she was going to mess things up for him.
The announcer coughed to get everyone’s attention, then carried on. “We’re getting started. First, I’d like to thank David for the opportunity of a lifetime. I’ve seen such wonderful things happening the last few day
s. It’s been more powerful than all that I’ve seen in my life up until this point. I hope you all feel the same.”
The crowd cheered. When Bernard clapped, Dwight mimicked him.
“So, it will only be a few more moments. I’ve just got word from on high.”
Dwight looked up, not sure what to make of the man’s statement. If planes were coming, maybe the show would begin with a parachute jump. There were no aircraft in the sky, but he did see Poppy still enjoying herself in the mid-morning sunshine.
A new voice spoke on the loudspeakers. It was the one he’d heard two days earlier, in the San Francisco warehouse. “Greetings, fellow humans. I’m speaking to you remotely from my headquarters in my NORAD bunker. Our operations are going completely to plan, and for that, I thank you. Eliminating the people of this land was step one of our mission to reclaim the world. Step two is what you men and women are doing out there on the roads with your flame kits. But even from so far away, I can provide a little extra help for your efforts. For I am David, and I see everything you need.”
Dwight almost chuffed out loud at how full of shit the man sounded, but he remembered he was supposed to be undercover. The crowd was applauding, as was he, when he noticed a thin black shape drop out of the clouds. From his position and distance, it appeared to be about the size of a telephone pole. It hurtled down for several seconds—long enough for many of the others to notice.
“What’s that?” he asked whoever would listen.
The black shape fell on the flat decking on top of the Folsom Dam and disappeared. He had enough time to wonder if he’d imagined the object before the bottom half of the tall concrete dam bowed outward like a filling balloon. An instant later, fire and debris shot out of the bulge, followed by a white jet of water and a violent rumble under his feet.
The crowd fell into silence, which was a feat in itself.
They all watched the concrete monument crumble from both sides as the water pushed through. The remains of the roadway on the top quickly fell into the torrent, and the gap grew almost as wide as the dam itself. Once the breach started, it peeled away additional layers of stone, further widening the hole.
People started clapping, but he couldn’t. He was too shocked.
The flood washed through the narrow river channel below the dam with frothy waves that fought like rabid dogs to get out of the lowlands and up to the neighborhoods of Folsom.
The crowd seemed to catch its breath and people applauded and whistled approval. The churn rushed through the flat valley along the path of the once-peaceful river, continuing its spread as more water gushed out of the lake. As more of the town was consumed, more of the crowd rose in support.
“It’s got part of the prison,” Bernard said like he was a reporter. “And it’s heading for downtown.”
Dwight realized none of their fire-starting adventures the night before could hold the flicker of a candle to the destruction wrought by the broken dam. Already houses, cars, and small buildings were being bowled over and washed away. The cleansing of America was happening in real time, and he was there to see its efficiency.
Poppy interrupted his introspection when she yelled a question down to him.
“Yes, I saw the dam break!” he replied with anger. Everyone was whooping and screaming in near-ecstasy at what David had done in front of their eyes, so no one heard him talk to his pet. He was glad for that. It wouldn’t do him any good if they saw how upset he was.
“I’m done with this!”
CHAPTER 24
Minot Air Force Base, ND
“I was here once on business,” Emily said in his ear as they rode through the sprawling base. “Air Force Two had to make a stop before we went to Japan. I got out of the plane for a short while, but I didn’t make it to any secret computer labs.”
Ted laughed. “Leave seek-n-find to Meechum. You just stay alive so you can unlock the terminal.”
To the casual observer, it looked a lot like any small town in America. It had a movie theater, shopping centers, and fast food locations. Since this part of North Dakota was flat, and there were almost no trees for ten miles in any direction, the base seemed even larger. The long central street cut through it all, pointing west, toward the building where Meechum had shown on the soup-can mockup as housing all the computer gear.
He half-turned, happy as could be that they were still alive and free after being stopped at the gate. “You better be right, you know. I don’t think anyone would appreciate if we stopped and asked for directions to their super-secret bunker.”
The vibration of Emily’s laugher traveled along her arms as she still held tight around his midsection.
They’d gone about a mile before they pulled into the parking lot for a nondescript two-story building made of stone blocks. It was about fifty yards square, with tired-looking windows. Compared to the rest of the newer housing and buildings, the place seemed to be from a previous generation. The sign out front said Maintenance and Parts, as Meechum promised.
Emily only let up on her hold when he had the bike off and the kickstand down. He hopped off first and held out a hand, though she didn’t need any assistance kicking her leg over.
“Thanks,” she said, using him for two seconds of balance.
Meechum strode by. “Ma’am, it’s right through here.”
He and Kyla followed the other two ladies through the swinging glass doors at the front of the building. There were lots of other cars in the parking area, so he figured there would be people inside. And when they stepped into the foyer, he got confirmation. People scurried about on the other side of the next set of glass doors. However, before they went through, they had to get by the guard.
A tired-looking older woman sat at a wood-grained folding table. She wore the same black on black uniform, but her jumpsuit top was draped on the back of her chair, leaving her in a gray T-shirt. She barely looked up when they came inside. “I’ll need your guns.”
Ted kept walking. “We don’t have any.”
She sat up straight. “Hold up, friends. I’ll need to wand you.” The handheld security wand had been sitting on her lap.
He had to make a split-second decision.
“Sorry, thought you meant long guns,” he said nonchalantly, “We do have some pistols, but we’re in a hurry.” There was no point in pretending they didn’t have pistols on them if she was going to wand them anyway. He tried to be a team player.
“Thanks,” she said, still holding the wand. “The base commander put us on full alert. I have to wand every person who comes through the doors.”
All of them emptied their pockets and holsters. Kyla and Meechum both put their M9s on the table. Emily set down her P229. He tabled his pair of Sigs, plus the little Ruger LCP. He’d intended to sneak it through until she mentioned the wand.
As promised, she lazily checked each one as they stepped through the second row of doors. She seemed to notice the bullet hole in his chest, but only shrugged like even that didn’t faze her.
“How do we get them back?” he asked from a bit beyond the threshold. “You didn’t give us a receipt.”
The woman tapped her head. “I’ll know.”
He went on, pretending he was used to such treatment. However, when they all got inside the main hallway of the building, they met another surprise. Almost everyone wore different uniforms. Instead of the all-black edition, the new people had black uniforms with red sleeves.
“Where now?” Emily asked the Marine.
The interior had the appearance of being a large call center contained within an old elementary school. Thirty or forty people sat at desks scattered throughout a large room at the end of the entryway. Rows of exposed halogen tube lighting hung above the workers, giving it a cheap telemarketer appearance instead of a military one. Meechum gave the people inside a once-over, then pointed to the left, to a hallway going a different direction. “We could probably use any terminal in the building, but the mainframe room should have the fewest
people. The stairs we want are that way, and around the corner.”
The four of them walked the bustling hallway, trying to move fast and avoid interacting with any of the enemy wearing the wrong uniforms. It wasn’t hard to do, as many of the young workers had their heads down, looking at cell phones or big tablets.
“This is the IT group, isn’t it?” he asked, knowing the answer.
“Yep,” Meechum said quietly.
Kyla took a double step to get closer to him. “Why does it say maintenance on the front?”
He laughed. “It’s an old trick from the Cold War days. If a spy snooped around and tried to map the place out, they’d be confused as to what was really inside the buildings. The US Air Force continued the tradition by mixing up the signage. Everyone on base knows what’s in here, however.”
“Glad I’m not a spy,” Kyla added. “I barely knew how to get to the computer lab while on the aircraft carrier. I’d never be able to draw it on a map.”
“You’re kind of a spy now,” Meechum said, slapping her on the back.
A few seconds later, Ted thought he recognized a face as he walked by the door of a computer room. The man inside the crowded lab was similar to someone from Air Force Two, though it happened so fast, he couldn’t be certain. He didn’t immediately tell the women, though he knew he had to warn them.
They walked to the end of the busy hallway and Meechum guided them to a right fork. At the last possible moment, Ted looked back toward the mystery man. He came out of the room, obviously sharing his curiosity, but Ted jerked his head back before the bad guy locked on.
Ted ensured no one in the hallway was close, then he spoke to the ladies’ backs. “Guys, hold up. We’ve got a problem. I think I was recognized…”
“Really?” Meechum gasped.
He nodded but looked at Emily. “Remember my asshole friend Ramirez? You sent me and him into DC. He’s here. I’m ninety-nine percent sure I saw him.” The Hispanic man was a bit on the heavy side for a career officer and was hard to mistake for anyone else.
Minus America Box Set | Books 1-5 Page 62
