by Robert Boren
“You don’t know if he’s still down there,” Vanessa shouted. “Stay focused, like you pushed me to be. You’re brave. You know what to do.”
Greg and the others had the woman uncovered now. “Let’s see this glass shard.”
“We’d better get to the Trinity and help people,” one of the citizens said.
“Yes, go,” Greg said. “Thanks.”
They nodded and left the bus in a hurry, racing towards the river bed.
“I can get this out,” Greg said, looking closely. “It might hurt a little bit.”
The woman’s eyes locked on his, scared but determined. She closed them, and Greg pulled it out, then put his hand over the wound to stop the bleeding. Trish and Vanessa found cloth they could use as a bandage, and they gave it to Greg, who applied it.
“You’re going to be fine,” he said.
“I think this woman is in trouble,” Kitten said. “She just passed out.”
Greg rushed over, getting close to her face, then backed away. “She’s gone.”
“Dammit,” Kitten said, letting go of the bandage.
“Let’s take this woman inside, and get to the riverbed,” Greg said. “There’s gonna be a lot to deal with there.”
“What about Mary?”
“She’ll be okay,” Vanessa said. “Let’s go.” They helped the woman up and walked her slowly to the bail bonds office.
“Good, you’re back,” Mary said, sitting up. “Anybody else alive out there? I can help.”
“No, but we’re going to leave you with this one,” Greg said. He helped her lay on the floor next to the cubicles, then grabbed a sheet of paper and put a phone number on it, handing it to Mary. “If the bleeding starts up around her neck, call me and apply pressure.”
“Where are you going?” Mary asked.
“The riverbed,” he said. “The dam broke.”
“Oh God,” Mary said. “Yes, go. Thanks so much for helping me.”
Greg led the others out the front door. They trotted down Commerce Street to the bridge, stopping when they saw the water flowing, almost filling the entire area between the levees.
“This is bad,” Kitten said, tears streaming down her face. “If my dad was down there, he’s gone.”
“There’s lots of things to grab hold of,” Vanessa said. “Don’t go to the worst place. You don’t know.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” she said, resolve coming back to her face. “Let’s go.”
They sprinted across the bridge, heading for a large group of men who were trying to pull themselves up, citizens helping before they got there. There was still intense gunfire and explosions in the air, but it was to the east, sounding more and more distant.
“Look at all of them,” Vanessa said as they ran, eyes bugged out, horror on her face. “This looks like that tsunami in the Indian Ocean.”
They raced off the bridge, straight to the top level of tangled bodies, searching for anybody alive with the rest of the people there.
“You guys the medical team?” asked somebody.
“What’s left of it,” Greg said. “Most of us got shot by those jerks on the building before we could get off the bus.”
“Oh no,” the man said. “So sorry to hear that.”
“Where can we be the most help?” Kitten asked.
“Half a block down Commerce Street,” he said. “There’s a few other doctors and nurses there. They were in a semi-truck with the equipment.”
“Why so far down?” Trish asked.
“In case you haven’t noticed, the water is still rising,” he said. “We don’t know how far it’s gonna go.”
“Oh geez,” Vanessa said. “C’mon, let’s get over there.”
The group ran over to a spot in front of the court house, with tarps on the lawn and rows of people, a handful of medical staff there.
“Finally,” said one doctor, a thin middle-aged woman with black hair and tanned skin. “Where are the rest?”
“You didn’t hear?” Greg asked as they got to work. “The bus got shot up by snipers.”
“Oh no,” the woman said, tears in her eyes. “Do you know what happened to Dr. Keaton?”
“She was next to me,” Kitten said. “She got killed. I’m so sorry.”
“She’s dead?” the woman asked, starting to break down.
Vanessa rushed over to her. “Dr. Patel, you have to focus. You can’t help Dr. Keaton now. We’ll mourn later.”
Kitten worked her way down the row, when she saw a familiar shirt. “Dad?” She rushed over. Alex was lying there, unconscious but breathing, his head bruised and large scrapes on his right forearm and the left side of his neck. Kitten got down and hugged him tight, his wet clothes soaking her shirt.
“You know him?” Dr. Patel asked.
“He’s my father,” she said, looking up. “Is he gonna be okay?”
“Depends on how his brain survived this,” she said. “He’s got a lot of bruising on his head. He might have a concussion or worse. We’re watching him closely. There’s ambulances on the way, and he’ll be one of the first taken.”
Kitten nodded, kissing him, then getting up. “Where can I help?”
“You can stay with him,” the doctor said.
“No, I can’t do anything for him, and help is on the way. Somebody loves these other people too.”
“Okay, come over here,” she said. “Your father should be proud.”
Men came over with carts carrying more wounded people, laying them carefully on the tarps as the first group of ambulances drove up. There was a small explosion to the northwest, closer than the others.
“Are they heading back this way?” Trish asked, standing to look around.
“That was a commando team,” one citizen said, pulling the cart back to the road. “They were getting ready to blow the doors at the detention center when we went by.”
Small arms fire drifted towards them, muffled by the sealed detention building.
“They’re going in,” said another citizen. “Let’s go get the rest of the wounded. I want back into the fight. These guys have me powerful pissed off.”
They left with the others, pushing their carts.
Kitten saw her father being loaded onto a gurney. She rushed over. “Where are you taking him?”
“Field hospital about four blocks from here,” the EMT said.
“Not the hospital?”
“The two that are closest have been destroyed,” he said, eyes glassing over with tears. “Lost several friends at one of them.”
“Sorry,” Kitten said. She put a hand on her dad’s forehead, following as the EMTs rolled the gurney towards the ambulance. Alex’s eyes fluttered open, and he saw her.
“Hi, honey,” he said.
“Don’t talk. They’re going to get you some help.”
“Did you see Doug?”
“Not yet,” she said.
“We were together until the current spun us too much.”
“Don’t worry about it now. I’ll keep my eyes open, okay? I’ll see you soon.”
“We have to leave now, miss,” the EMT said. She backed away. The gurney was lifted into the back, and the EMTs closed the doors and hit the back of the ambulance to notify the driver. It drove off, and they went to the next person. Kitten returned just as another group of wounded patriots was brought over, jumping in to help.
Chapter 23 - Ranks
Kip Hendrix backed away from the PC in the console room, rubbing his eyes. Maria came in looking for him.
“What’s up?” she asked, her hands going to his shoulders, kneading his tight muscles. “It’s getting late.”
He moaned as she worked the kinks out for a moment. “That feels good.”
“The others are watching TV,” Maria said. “The Governor has been dozing. I think he’s going to bed soon.”
“You want to do the same,” he said, turning towards her.
“Whenever you’re ready. See anything interesting?
”
“Dallas is still raging,” he said. “Our forces have pushed the enemy east. The largest battle is in the industrial area just east of the Cotton Bowl complex.”
“The news outlets are still down. It’s been a welcome relief, to tell you the truth.” She pulled a chair over and sat next to him. “Anything else going on?”
“We’ve got a bunch of hits showing up in the gulf. Can’t tell if there’s any EU Navy ships there yet. The Islamists are probably on junk ships like we saw coming from Venezuela earlier.”
“Where’s the US Navy?” Maria asked.
“I don’t know. The story Wallis told us about Canyon Lake was something else.”
“Seriously,” she said. “Why is that team of his such a magnet for trouble?”
Hendrix chuckled. “I don’t know, but they’ve stumbled into victories over the enemy a lot of times. What they did at Canyon Lake saved us from a big problem.”
“What’s happening with the other lakes around Dallas?”
“The enemy fighters going to Lake Ray Hubbard got stopped in a big battle outside Garland. I don’t think we’re out of the woods yet. The body count from the Lewisville Lake disaster will be bad. Really bad.”
“Any other danger spots around there?”
“There’s a large group of Islamists coming from McKinney, heading right for Lavon Lake. We’ve got citizen fighters and National Guard troops heading out to meet them. Looks like the battle will happen around Lucas, but that might change. The enemy shut down for the night.”
“We should ambush them, then,” Maria said.
“Yep,” Hendrix said, “and we might be working that now. I’m understanding why Saladin wanted these RFID chips. I almost wish our people had them so we could see what’s going on from our side.”
“Not worth it,” Maria said.
He sighed. “You’re right, of course. It would help here, but the possibilities for abuse are too dangerous for my taste. My trust in governments has slipped quite a bit during this fracas.”
“You’ll still be part of the opposition, though, right?”
“After the war, yes,” he said, “but everybody who’s lived through this mess will be changed by it. Hopefully in good ways.”
“It’ll be a mix,” Maria said. “Want to go to bed? I’ll make it worth your while.”
He smiled, getting off the chair and pulling her into his arms for a kiss. They started towards the hallway, almost there when the console buzzer went off. Maria laughed, looking at Hendrix, who shrugged. Ramsey came in.
“What now?” he asked.
Maria rushed to the console and brought it up. “Wallis and Gallagher. It’s pretty late for a call.”
“I’ll wake the Governor,” Ramsey said, going back into the living room. Nelson strode in with Dr. Schultz, both looking sleepy, Ramsey following them.
Maria had the console video feed up, Wallis and Gallagher on the screen.
“Something bad happen?” Nelson asked, pulling a chair over. He sat in front of the screen.
“That EU Navy carrier group just arrived at Cuba,” Wallis said. “They’ve been spotted in Havana harbor, according to our sources.”
“Wonderful,” Nelson said. “I was hoping they’d back off, since the enemy lost their operatives in DC.”
“No such luck so far,” Wallis said.
“Where’s the US Navy?” Hendrix asked.
“There’s still a lot of ships around San Diego,” Gallagher said. “They were there to help with that border incursion the enemy tried a few weeks ago.”
“That’s too far away from the gulf,” Ramsey said.
“It’s in range of Navy aircraft,” Wallis said, “but that won’t be enough.”
“We don’t know where the rest of the US Navy is?” Nelson asked.
“Just hearsay,” Wallis said. “We still can’t raise General Hogan.”
“He’s not dead or captured, is he?” Hendrix asked.
“We don’t think so,” Gallagher said. “We think he’s closing in on the enemy. There’s been some action in Utah.”
“Where?” Nelson asked.
“Capitol Reef,” Gallagher said. “Hogan’s been real quiet since those nukes went off along the Mississippi.”
“Maybe you should try calling him personally,” Ramsey said, looking at Nelson.
“I have,” Nelson said. “Three times now.”
“Sounds like he’s in trouble,” Hendrix said.
“After the third call he sent a text which said not now. ”
“When was that?” Hendrix asked.
“This morning,” Nelson said.
“Maybe it wasn’t him,” Ramsey said.
“It was him,” Gallagher said. “I’ve got sources that said he’s alive and well, trying to finish off the enemy leadership in the southwest while being hunted by the best people Saladin has left.”
“Shit, he might think we have somebody leaking info,” Hendrix said.
“Well, not much we can do about that,” Nelson said. “What kind of defenses do we have in place along the gulf?”
“All of the artillery we own is down there, being used as shore batteries. Some of them aren’t accurate enough to use against a modern ship. I’m just as concerned about these small enemy ships as I am about the EU Navy.”
“At least we can see them,” Ramsey said.
Hendrix sat silently, brow furrowed.
“What is it?” Nelson asked, eyeing him.
“Suppose they have more of those small nukes, like the ones used in the Mississippi.”
“That’s what is keeping me up at night,” Nelson said, then chuckled. “Along with Dallas, New Mexico, the Louisiana border, the Rio Grande, and half a million enemy fighters spread around the state.”
Gallagher laughed out loud, Wallis smirking at him.
“Okay, so we still aren’t out of the woods,” Hendrix said, “but we are better off than we were a week ago. We know that pressure on the border is not much of a problem anymore.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Gallagher said. “I worry about those fighters getting re-supplied and coming right back. Maybe they have the clinic facilities they’d need to remove chips from most of their men.”
“My list just got longer,” Nelson said. “Thanks.”
Gallagher laughed. “Don’t mention it.”
“This really isn’t funny,” Maria said.
“I don’t buy that they’ll remove the chips in large numbers,” Gallagher said, “all kidding aside. If they do, a lot of their fighters will just disappear into the woodwork. They can’t be liking this war. We’ve slaughtered them wholesale, and this isn’t their land. Ideology and the promise of virgins when they die isn’t enough to keep soldiers fighting when it’s not their land. Protecting the homeland is much more compelling, and we’ve got that advantage.”
“What about their leadership?” Ramsey asked. “They’ve got officer types pushing the troops.”
“One reason they’re using RFID is to minimize command and control on the ground,” Hendrix said. “They probably have a tiny leadership structure compared to what most armies have.”
“We can tell with the latest version of the apps, you know,” Wallis said. “It’s got names, ranks, and countries of origin.”
“I’ve heard that, but I’m not seeing it,” Maria said.
“You’ve got to turn it on,” Wallis said. “I was playing with it this afternoon. Go into settings and click the check boxes for each.”
“Wonder why they didn’t set that on with the update?” Hendrix asked.
“It’s too hard to read on the screen if all data types are selected,” Wallis said. “The most powerful thing about the new apps is that you can search by rank, or name, or country of origin. Only the icons that match show on the screen.”
Maria moved to the PC and brought up the detailed app. “This works on the PC version, right?”
“It works on both types of long-range app,” Wallis said.
“I’ll search for Saladin first,” she said, inputting the name in the search window. The view moved to the center of Utah.
“Capitol Reef, just like we thought,” Hendrix said. “Brilliant.”
“Start checking for ranks,” Nelson said. “Let’s see if what we suspect is true.”
Maria nodded and went back to the search window. “Which should I search by? I don’t know what these numbers mean.”
“Display all and include the ranks first,” Hendrix said.
“Good idea,” Nelson said.
Maria did that, and a busy display came up. She zoomed in on Texas.
“Looks like mostly low-ranking people here,” Hendrix said, looking closely at the big monitor. “Search by the highest one we have here.”
“Looks like the highest rank is the lowest number,” Maria said. “We’ve got mostly 15s. The highest I see is a 5.”
“There were some notes in the release,” Wallis said. “Remember Simon Orr? He was a 3.”
“Simon Orr had a chip?” Ramsey asked.
“Yep,” Wallis said. “I’m looking at the 5s now. Bring it up, Maria.”
She nodded and searched by that number. “Hmmm, not very many. I count twenty-eight total. Half of them are in Dallas.”
“Move the view down to northern Mexico,” Hendrix said.
She nodded and did that. “Wow, more.”
“Go down a number,” Gallagher said.
“Still a lot at 4. I’ll check 3.” She input the change. “Seventeen of those.”
“What’s Saladin?” Nelson asked.
“Just a sec,” Maria said, changing the search and zooming in on New Mexico.
“He’s a 2,” Nelson said. “Interesting. Search on 1.”
Maria did that. “I don’t see any of those.”
“Okay,” Nelson said. “We know there are very few leadership folks in Texas. That tells me that the command and control functionality of the RFID chips is vital to these folks.”
“It’s great that we can see their data, but I wish there was a way we could block them from seeing it,” Hendrix said.
“Probably impossible,” Wallis said, “but that doesn’t matter now. The main thing I wanted to tell you guys about was the EU Navy in Havana harbor. You’ve been seeing the small enemy ships, I assume?”