by Mike Ramon
Chapter Thirty-Six
Portland, Oregon
June 23 -- 21:00 UTC/2:00 pm local time
David and Agent Norwalk had spent five days grounded in Portland. Limited air travel had started back up on the third day. On the twenty-four hour cable news networks the so-called experts were keeping up a steady stream of dire predictions about how much money the partial ban on commercial air travel, and the brief total ban that had preceded it, would cost the nation’s economy. Meanwhile the New York Stock Exchange had taken a dive, adding to the fears of an economic catastrophe. Watching the talking heads squawk about these events, one could almost forget that nearly a million people were dead, and that the death toll was still rising. It was almost as if they were going out of their way to forget this. Maybe it was just too horrible to talk about.
Security lines had been hastily thrown up around major cities, starting with the larges, then on down to any city with a population of over half a million. The security lines were made up of barriers and checkpoints, and anyone coming in or out of one of the cities thus surrounded had to show at least two forms of ID before being let in or out of that city, and every vehicle was subject to a full search. That was the plan, at least.
The plan crumbled within hours of being implemented, as thousands of vehicles started to pile up at the checkpoints as huge numbers as people attempted to flee the urban centers. It was time for Plan B, and Plan B meant that while everybody crossing the security lines could possibly be stopped and asked for identification, only a small percentage actually were. Security forces--a mixture of local and state police as well as National Guardsmen, the make-up varying from city to city--were to use their own discretion about who to stop and which vehicles to search. An issue quickly arose around racial profiling; security forces were accused of pulling aside people of Asian descent for extra screening.
All in all it was what you could call a total clusterfuck.
Both David and Agent Norwalk had spent five days sleeping on cots in a NTRA safe house on the outskirts of the city, with nothing to do and generally feeling useless. David had requested permission to slip out of the city so that he could enjoy the comforts of his own home in the woods, but his request had been denied.
Then orders came down from Washington. Agent Norwalk was to fly south, to an Operational HQ stationed fifty miles outside of San Francisco, while David was to go north, to a similar OHQ near Seattle. The orders didn’t give them any hint as to why they were being sent to these locations, simply that they would be briefed once they had arrived at their respective destinations.
Once more David found himself at Portland International Airport. He shook hands with Agent Norwalk--whose flight wasn’t leaving for another hour--and followed a uniformed soldier to the aircraft that was to fly him north. The plane was a U-27A, the military version of the Cessna 208 Caravan, a small single prop utility aircraft. When David boarded the aircraft he saw that he and the soldier were the only passengers. They buckled in and taxied to the runway. With civilian air traffic still slowed down to a trickle, they didn’t have to wait long before being cleared for takeoff.
The flight was a quiet one, discounting the sound of the engine and the occasional chattering between the pilot and co-pilot, and the plane touched down at Bellingham International Airport about an hour and a half after lifting off from Portland.
“Follow me, sir,” the soldier said as he and David climbed down off the plane.
David followed without a word. The soldier led him to a military Humvee, and they headed south after leaving the airport grounds. David nodded off during the drive, and was woken up by a tap on his shoulder.
“We’re here,” the soldier said.
David looked around. He saw a house set back on a small plot of land that seemed like it was in threat of being swallowed by the woods that rose up behind it.
“Is this the Operational HQ?” David asked.
“Affirmative.”
“But it’s just a house. I don’t even see any guards around.”
“There around, just out of sight. I’ll show you inside.”
The two men got out of the Humvee and walked toward the front of the house. As they approached the house the front door opened and a man in civilian clothes, but with a military look about him, took a look at David, then the soldier who accompanied him. The soldier flashed some credentials; the man took a step back and allowed the new arrivals to pass into the house.
The soldier led David to the house’s large dining room, which little resembled any dining room David had ever seen. There were tables set along one wall, with a series of computer monitors stacked on it in a row. Men were bustling about, some in uniform and some in civvies. One man--a burly guy with a thick beard, who reminded David of a lumberjack-- took notice of the newcomers and came over to them. The man stuck out one beefy hand and flashed a brilliant smile; David was surprised to see anyone smiling under the circumstances.
“Agent Diehl, it’s good to meet you,” the man said.
David shook the man’s hand; he expected the grip to be bone-grindingly tough, but it was surprisingly genial.
“I’m ASAC O’Donnell,” the big man said. “But you can call me Phil. I’m in operational command here. Or rather, I was. Now that’s your job, I guess.”
David was taken aback.
“I’m the operational commander?” David asked
“That’s what I’ve been told.”
“But what is it that I’m in command of?”
“You mean you don’t know? There’s a Fireblossom in Seattle, and it’s going to be set off in…”
ASAC O’Donnell checked his watch.
“About seventy hours. It’s our job to stop it.”
“Where did this intel come from?” David asked. “Last I heard we had almost no info.”
“I’m not entirely sure. From what I hear we got a tipoff from the Chinese.”
David was quiet for a moment. He thought about Violet Rhee, and wondered if the NIS knew where the Fireblossoms were located in their own country, and if they were gearing up for operations of their own right now.
“We have seventy hours?” David asked.
“Yes, but we’re obviously not waiting until the clock runs out to move. The take down operation for the local Violet Dawn cell is set to take place anywhere from twenty-four to forty-eight hours from now. The boys in Washington are setting it up so that all of the cells across the country can be taken down at once.”
“What about other countries that have their own Violet Dawn cells who are armed with Fireblossoms?”
ASAC O’Donnell shook his head.
“That’s above my head.”
David nodded in understanding.
“Well, Phil; fill me in on everything I need to know. What forces are under my command, the location of our target, et cetera.”
ASAC Phil O’Donnell led David into another room, where they sat down at a tabled covered with maps and reports. David was scared. What scared him most was the knowledge that he was now personally overseeing an operation to take out a terrorist cell that had a weapon that could wipe out the entire population of Seattle.