Compound Fracture

by Franklin Horton

  “Got it,” Carlos said. “If you don’t mind me asking, how much longer do you think this is going to take? I’m getting a little edgy. I’d like to get across the wire and link up with you guys.”

  There was a delay before the congressman responded and Carlos could imagine him on the other end scowling at the radio. “You need to grow a set and focus on your job. You’ll stay within the walls of that compound for as long as we need you to stay. That’s all I have to say about that right now.”

  Overwhelmed by a wave of rage, Carlos had to bite his tongue to stay cool. “Roger that. Green out.”

  He changed the frequency on that radio and turned it off. Even though he’d just had a break, he returned to the porch, sat down on his favorite step, and lit up a smoke. Across the command pod, Kevin and Brandon were talking at the rear of a side-by-side. Carlos could have sworn that he saw them looking in his direction several times.

  What were they talking about? Him? Maybe he was just being paranoid.

  What if he wasn’t?

  22

  “So no one has heard from the families today?” Congressman Honaker asked after getting off the radio with Carlos.

  “You know I’d have told you if I heard anything. I’ve babysat that radio all day,” Bradshaw said. “They were supposed to reach the campground yesterday and check in with us today. I wasn’t all that surprised when we didn’t hear from them last night. I figured they might need time to rig up an antenna or something. That can be a big operation in these mountains. They’ll have to get up high.”

  The congressman took a healthy bite of his freeze-dried lasagna, his eyes distant, his mind calculating. As much as he hated to admit it, the food was showing improvement since they’d replaced Jeff with someone who had more aptitude for the job. Jeff had only been doing it because the congressman had promised his wife he wouldn’t put Jeff in danger. Cook was the only safe job they had. “You think those people that escaped Arthur’s compound have caught up with them yet? Maybe done something to them?”

  Bradshaw twirled a fork around his own plate, chasing down entrails of pasta. “I don’t know. I doubt they’ve reached them yet. Travel takes longer when you’re not on the main roads. Besides, it’s not like they know where to look. There will have to be an element of luck involved. It might not be that easy.”

  “I have a file on all the shareholders in Arthur’s little corporation, though it doesn’t cover those visitors. I’m pretty sure Robert Hardwick and Sonyea Brady weren’t in my intelligence reports. In fact, I don’t recall them ever showing up on my radar before. They must have never visited when Carlos was onsite. When he visited the compound to work or train he always sent me detailed lists of everyone he ran into. It was part of his job.”

  “Intelligence is never foolproof,” Bradshaw said. “It’s always the unexpected variables that throw a wrench in things. I’ve heard of international espionage operations going awry because a maid came home early or because someone ran out of gas. Shit happens.”

  “I’m not sure what to do. Do we pull off and go help our families or do we keep fighting here?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe after dinner I’ll walk up and check our antenna,” Bradshaw said. “Perhaps a tree branch fell on it and pulled the wires loose or something. If it’s down, we won’t hear the families even if they are transmitting.”

  “We need to let them know they have people headed in their direction. They need to be on the lookout,” Congressman Honaker said. “I’ve got to come up with a plan for us too. We can’t just sit here forever. The families aren’t carrying a lot of supplies. Staying in campers on the road isn’t sustainable. We need to get inside that compound.”

  “Or give up on it and find a different spot,” Bradshaw suggested.

  “I don’t like the idea of giving up. I believe in sticking to a plan. You don’t concede defeat. That’s what separates the winners from the losers in this world.”

  “Then I don’t know what to tell you. Negotiation has failed, threats have failed, and a direct assault would be suicide. I don’t know what you have left in your bag of tricks but I’m not seeing a path to victory here.”

  The congressman got up and threw his paper plate into the trash can. He paced the narrow aisle of the RV, wracking his brain. “There has to be some angle we haven’t tried.”

  “How long do you think the disaster will last?” Bradshaw asked.

  “Projections say a year or two before things are back up and running. Could be as long as five years before things are what we consider normal again. Everything I’ve read, everything we’ve been told in congressional briefings, makes it clear that the next year or two could be very dark times for the country. We’ll lose a lot of people. To survive, you have to be dug in. You have to have supplies.”

  “Then maybe we need to consider a new plan,” Bradshaw said. “Maybe we need an easier target. Someplace we can actually get into and hole up before things get really bad, even if it’s someplace different than you originally intended. This place may not be worth the loss of life.”

  The congressman shook his head. “This was the place I always planned on coming. I built everything on taking it and I didn’t get where I am by accepting defeat. Or accepting no as an answer. I got where I am by getting the things I wanted, even if I had to take them by force. Even if I had to step on a few people along the way.”

  “Is winning worth the cost?” Bradshaw said. “If you lose half your men, who’s going to protect this place for you? Who’s going to help you run it? Will you be able to defend it from the next guy who comes along?”

  The congressman shook his head in frustration, as if trying to shake loose some of the ideas fighting for space. There were too many variables, not to mention the life and death consequences of his decisions. “I need time to think. You check that antenna and let me know what you find. If you hear from the families, track me down.”

  “Got it,” Bradshaw said.

  The congressman clambered down the steps and out of the RV. There was a rack of rifles against the wall of the RV and the congressman stared at it. He didn’t really understand the fancy military-style rifles but that was all there was to choose from. He grabbed one and slung it over his shoulder, figuring if he was going to be out walking around, he should probably have one, even if it was only for appearances.

  “Going somewhere, sir?”

  The congressman turned around to find one of his men, a cop named Catron, behind him.

  “I need a walk to clear my head.”

  “I patrol this section,” Catron said. “You should probably walk the road away from the compound and stay out of the woods. That would be safest.”

  “I’ll do it. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sir,” Catron said, returning to his patrol.

  The congressman ambled out of camp, admiring the nice day, and trying to remember how long it had been since he took a walk on a country road. He’d grown up on a dirt road and his first few steps took him back to a different time, to a different place in his life. It made him feel a way he hadn’t felt for a very long time.

  When the congressman returned to his RV, he found Jacobs and Bradshaw outside the RV having a heated discussion. That somewhat disappointed the congressman. He’d enjoyed his walk and returning to a conflict was depressing.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “The antenna is destroyed,” Bradshaw said.

  The congressman sighed, placing his rifle in the rack against the wall. “Is it repairable?”

  “No,” Jacobs said. “We’re not even sure where all the pieces are. They broke the damn thing into tiny pieces and scattered them through the forest on their way out.”

  The congressman sagged into a camp chair and rested his face in his hands. “Aren’t antennas the simple part of the radio? Can’t you just build another one?”

  Bradshaw threw his hands up. “Well, I guess you can if you have the knowledge and the materials. I don’t
have either. I don’t think anyone here is capable of doing that.”

  “Where does this leave us?” the congressman asked, still not looking up.

  “That’s what we were just discussing,” Jacobs said. “We can communicate with Bridges’ compound and with our own men in the immediate area but that’s pretty much it. We’re not reaching out of this valley without a more substantial antenna placed higher on the surrounding hills.”

  “Great,” the congressman said, slouching back in his chair, his face red from leaning forward, his expression downcast.

  “What do you want to do?” Bradshaw asked.

  “Call back a few of the men,” the congressman said. “Have them start tearing down the camp. We’re pulling out.” He gave them a pained smile, which was all he had left to offer.

  “What?” the other men asked simultaneously, both of them erupting into a barrage of questions.

  The congressman held his hands up, asking for silence. When the men conceded, he continued.

  “I have a new plan. I can’t reveal it all now. All I can tell you is that the next step is to rendezvous with our families and make sure they’re safe. As far as the Bridges compound goes, they’ve won. Taking the place is not worth the cost to our people.”

  “I think you’re making the right decision,” Bradshaw said. “We still have enough fuel to find a new place.”

  “I think it’s a mistake,” Colonel Jacobs said, shaking his head. “We could have taken it, given enough time. All I needed was freedom to take the necessary steps. If you’d just allowed me to do my job this would be over already.”

  The congressman got to his feet. “My word is final. My ship, my rules. You want to stay on my ship, follow them. You want to find your own ship, then help yourself.”

  Both men nodded somberly and wandered off. They had work to do.

  The congressman threw back the screen door and went inside the RV. He found a bottle of Buffalo Trace bourbon in one of the cabinets, grabbed a glass, and slid into the cramped dinette. He poured a glass of the amber liquid, smiling when the aroma hit his nose. He tipped it back, allowing the shot to work its magic. He folded his arms on the table, lay his head down upon them, and closed his eyes.

  23

  “This is Bragg. I have unusual activity at the enemy camp.”

  Arthur was just considering a nap when the transmission broke the silence in his bedroom. He picked up a handheld radio from the nightstand. “This is Bridges. What do you have?”

  “Sir, I could swear they’re tearing down camp.”

  That got Arthur’s attention. “Can you repeat that?”

  “Yes sir. I could swear they’re tearing down camp. They’ve dropped the big tents and have a team stowing gear in vehicles and trailers.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Arthur said.

  Bragg was in an observation post that had a good view down on the camp. While he couldn’t see everything, he could see enough. Arthur couldn’t believe this. Either Robert’s ploy to lure them off was working or the congressman was up to something.

  Arthur stretched and slipped his boots back on, zipping up the sides. He slipped on his plate carrier, his hat, and grabbed a rifle. He was slipping the radio into a pouch on his chest when he heard Carlos on the radio.

  “Carlos for Bragg. Can you confirm that last transmission? They’re packing up?”

  Arthur frowned at this. As far as he was concerned, they were in the midst of an operation and needed to restrict radio traffic. This wasn’t the time for idle chatter. Carlos had no critical reason for needing that information. He should be monitoring and waiting for instructions. Arthur yanked the radio back out of the pouch and held it to his mouth.

  “Bridges for Carlos. Clear the channel.”

  “Carlos for Bridges. Roger that. Sorry, sir.”

  Arthur shook his head in frustration. Kevin was just complaining about the radio operator earlier. Despite his attempts to only allow solid folks into the corporation that operated the compound, sometimes folks didn’t show their true colors until the bullets started flying. Even if the kid wasn’t cut out for this, what could Arthur do about it now? Carlos had been a member for several years now. They’d trained alongside him, worked alongside him, and broken bread together. The man revealing himself now was wholly unlike the man Arthur had gotten to know over the years.

  Arthur headed out the front door and was starting down the porch when Kevin roared up in a side-by-side. “I caught the transmission and had to see this. If it’s true, this is an interesting development. It’s also a little suspicious.”

  “No kidding,” Arthur said, sliding into the passenger seat. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  Kevin punched the gas and spun the vehicle in a circle, accelerating rapidly toward the observation post that overlooked both the compound entrance and the congressman’s camp. Arthur had to grab onto the roll cage to keep from sliding around the cab.

  “Watch much of that Baja racing when you were a kid?” Arthur asked.

  “How could you tell?”

  “Oh, no reason,” Arthur replied.

  Kevin skidded to a stop near the observation post and both men piled out of the vehicle.

  “Whatcha got, Bragg?” Arthur asked.

  Bragg was in a bunker of sorts, made of old logs and brush. It looked more like a pile of logging debris than a manmade structure, which was exactly the point. He leaned away from a spotting scope and gestured the men inside. “See for yourself.”

  Arthur slipped in behind the Leupold spotting scope. He observed in silence, then adjusted the tripod to allow him to pan the scope around the congressman’s camp. “I’ll be damned. I think you’re right.”

  Arthur moved out of the way and let Kevin take a gander.

  “It’s not exactly a hasty retreat,” Kevin said after a moment, “but it does look like they’re pulling up stakes. You know if they’re dropping the dining tent they’re not sticking around for long. That bunch hates to miss a meal.”

  “Roger that,” Bragg agreed. “It happened quickly. A couple of men double-timed in from their stations and started tearing stuff down. As far as I can tell, the congressman is in the command RV. There are still snipers and patrols active. They haven’t pulled everyone in yet. They’re not letting down their guard.”

  “Maybe I should get on the horn and tell them we’ll let them go peaceably,” Arthur said. “They can stop patrolling. We’re not going to attack them if they’re trying to leave. That’s what we’ve wanted all along.”

  “You could try that,” Kevin said.

  Bragg took over the spotting scope again. “They’re rolling up the awning on the command RV.”

  “Good work, Bragg. Thanks for the heads-up. Keep us updated,” Arthur said.

  He and Kevin got in the side-by-side and were starting back up the hill when Arthur spotted something in the woods below the road. He smacked Kevin in the arm.

  “What?” Kevin asked.

  “Stop!”

  Kevin laid off the accelerator and the vehicle abruptly slowed on the incline. “What’s up?”

  Arthur pointed and Kevin saw a man running through the woods toward the observation post. “What the heck?”

  “It’s Carlos,” Arthur grumbled, jumping out of the vehicle. He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled. “Carlos!”

  The man in the woods slowed. He was less than fifty feet from Arthur. He came to a stop but didn’t approach.

  “What the hell are you doing? Who’s on the radio?”

  Carlos came closer. “I was just coming to check out what Bragg said. That’s good news, right? This whole mess might be over soon.”

  Arthur was about to lose it. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you. Where’s your discipline, man? Get in the back of this vehicle now. I’m returning you to your station. If you leave it unattended again, you’re out. We were clear in the training about emergency procedures. I swear to God I’ll send you packing.”
r />   “What about my money?” Carlos asked.

  “What money?” Arthur asked.

  “The money I paid to buy into the corporation,” Carlos said. “Do I get that back if you throw me out?”

  Arthur’s face darkened. “Not right now you don’t. We’re in a state of emergency and aren’t issuing refunds at the moment. Especially if you’re leaving for failing to hold up your end of the agreement. You’re in dangerous territory right now, son. I’d advise you to just shut the hell up.”

  Grumbling, Carlos climbed into the cargo area of the side-by-side. Arthur shook his head in frustration. Kevin gave him a knowing glance, a reminder that they’d just talked about this very thing earlier today, about Carlos’s inability to manage the pressure and responsibility. Kevin restarted the machine and shot up the hill. He enjoyed driving just as fast as he had earlier, knowing it forced Carlos to scramble for handholds. The kid would be a little banged up when he got back to his station and it would serve him right. Maybe he’d think twice before abandoning it again.

  At the commo shack, Kevin killed the engine and Carlos hopped out, jogging up the steps before Arthur could start in on him again. That didn’t sit well with Kevin.

  “Hey, Carlos!” he called.

  Carlos stopped at the top step. When Kevin didn’t continue, he turned around. Kevin caught his eye.

  “Don’t leave that radio again without permission. I can’t give orders here but I can make threats. Consider that a threat. We need to be able to depend on you. If we can’t, you’re just dead weight that might get someone killed. You understand me?”

  Carlos glared at the man for a moment before turning and going inside.

  “Good thing we don’t have a human resources department,” Arthur said. “He’d probably be filing a complaint that you triggered him.”

  “If I trigger him, it’ll be with a real trigger.”

  Arthur laughed at that for a good long time. He was still chuckling when Kevin drove him back the short distance across the command pod. As he exited the vehicle, he slung his rifle over his shoulder and glanced back toward the commo shack. “You know, maybe I should get on the radio and check in with the congressman. Perhaps he’ll tell me what he’s up to. If he doesn’t, I still get the fun of badgering him a little.”