Major Barclay asked, “Group one, all here?”
“Yes, ma'am.
“Group two?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Group three?”
“No, ma'am”
The next bathroom group, boots clapping, hurried down the other hall. When they got back, she said, “Listen up.” The hallway got quiet. “This time we'll be in for fifteen minutes, except groups three and four. Come back to where you are now for a debriefing. Any questions?” None. “Let's go.” Fritz opened the door. When all the groups had gone in, the quiet throbbed. They waited. Noise ceased in the hallway. Fifteen minutes felt very long. Then Fritz's phone rang. He looked at the screen and answered.
“Mr. Russell, we're engaged,” the major said. He could hear gunfire. “We can't see the exit.”
“Hang on.” Fritz said, “Group four is being attacked,” he told those around him. “They can't see the exit. Tony, can you do something?”
Colonel Mitchell called Bagram. He told the general, who had been standing by, that infiltrators were firing on one of the groups. He gave him the coordinates. “General, we have seventeen soldiers out there. Don't shoot them.”
Fritz said, “Major, the cavalry's coming. And Tony's juicing the generators.” The noise over the phone sounded like a serious battle. “Can you tell how many there are?”
She said, “We're going to be late. Can you send men to our location? It might open the portal again. We didn't plan for this. Gotta go.”
The colonel remained on the phone. “No, General, we don't know how many.” Fritz looked at Linda's and Ashley's worried faces. Lois looked like she'd seen it all coming.
The first group returned a couple of minutes later. The team leader, a Marine captain, went straight to the colonel. “Sir, we could hear gunfire. It sounded like one of the groups has been surprised.”
“Yes, Captain. Are you ready to go back in and get them?”
“Yes, sir.”
Fritz didn't need a shove. He reset group four's map and nodded to the colonel.
“Go and good luck. Come straight out as soon as you can. This is real. Take off your safeties.”
Then the second and third groups appeared. Both team leaders reported they could see and hear gunfire. Tony Almeida sat on the floor next to the generators, listening to the reports. Group five came back, then six, whose men reported headlights were racing across the desert. Then the last group emerged.
Fritz said, “I wish the major would call again.” Ashley walked to Fritz but said nothing. Then Fritz's classroom door burst open, and groups one and four tumbled through. “Stay away from the door,” Fritz yelled, as the next few returnees came crawling out. Ten soldiers, including the major, remained inside. They could hear continuing gunfire. Suddenly, a plunk on the wall opposite the door scattered plaster across the floor. George gasped. Tom drew his pistol and walked toward the portal. Group two's leader, his rifle ready, also walked around Fritz. More bullets hit the wall.
Fritz said, “Linda, everyone, go into Ashley's room. Hurry!” They were already gone. He couldn't see through the window in his door. He hoped those still at Bagram could see the hallway light but assumed they could see only the portal outline. At least, he hoped they could.
Fritz's phone rang.
“Mr. Russell, we can't see the portal,” the major said. Her calm voice disguised her anxiety.
“I'll reset it,” he said.
Fritz ran into his classroom, took the paperclip off, put it on again, and ran to the hallway. He closed the door, and opened it again immediately. He heard multiple weapons being fired, including what sounded like the bass voice of a machine gun. Out of the portal, like a family of ducks, crawled the remaining men and the major.
When she appeared, Ashley started over to help her up, but she yelled, “Stay back until the door is shut. Is everyone here?” she shouted. It took a moment before the count finished and “All here” came down the hallway. The colonel slammed the door.
It took a minute or two before everyone could breathe normally. Ashley helped the major to her feet. Checking for injuries, her clamorous yell down the hall came after being surrounded by gunfire.
“No one hit, ma'am.”
“Good. Okay. Everyone sit. We'll need to talk this through before we leave.” As the troops settled down on the hallway floor, Ashley's classroom door opened. George poked his head out, and then Lois and Linda walked into the hall. Linda looked at Fritz.
“I'm fine,” he said to her questioning look. George went to investigate the damage—holes in the wall, plaster on the floor, and plaster dust swirling.
The colonel asked the team leaders to report. “One group at a time. We have two insertions to discuss. Are the recorders on?”
“Yes, sir,” came from each group.
I didn't think of that either, Fritz thought, as he listened to the responses.
The first captain said that the initial trip was no problem, and the second only got troublesome when they were ready to come back. “Colonel, the exit point wasn't visible once we met up with group four. I stayed by the entryway and moved everyone past me. When the door closed, it was pitch black. The exit flickered a couple of times, but that didn't help. After Major Barclay called, it became visible again, but weakly.”
“Will you be able to enter a hot zone and get your bearings quickly?” the colonel asked.
“I think we'll be okay as long as we go into lighted areas. There wasn't any noise when we went through.”
“Group two?”
“Smooth as silk, Colonel.”
“Group three?”
The team leader was a navy captain, a Seal, and the senior ranking officer of all the groups. He said, “Colonel, if we are going to bring out personnel and equipment, we'll need to mark our entry and be able to get right out. I think we'll need to extend the timers for the explosives, longer than you planned. We may need to hide them better, too. But we have to build a longer buffer before they go off if we're going to get out safely.”
“Covered, Captain. The major will go over the extraction plans with the team leaders tomorrow. Captain, do you believe we have enough men to pull this off?”
“If we meet any resistance, I don't think so. Do you have intel on what's going to greet us? Will we only meet civilians, or are those facilities armed?”
“Intel says they're so well concealed the Narians don't keep military there for fear they'll be noticed. But we really won't know until we get there.”
Colonel Mitchell asked, “Group four—what happened?”
The major said, “We surprised an infiltration party. Judging from the gunfire, I'm guessing between thirty and fifty, no more than fifty yards away. They started shooting while we were going in. We were lucky. Mr. Russell, your phone idea saved us. Thanks.”
When the debriefing ended, George received a number of requests to use the bathrooms again. “I'm not a bathroom monitor,” he mumbled as he led the men out, “I'm the principal.”
“We need to leave, quick and quiet,” the major said. “Make sure you leave nothing behind. Not even a gum wrapper. This place has to be shipshape for classes in the morning. Reboard the bus you came in. One man from each group stays to make sure nothing's left behind.”
Lois said, “Thank you.”
Fritz and Ashley went to help carry the generators out.
“Mr. Russell, can we talk? One of the soldiers will carry the equipment.” At that, three soldiers offered to lend a hand. Ashley picked up one generator with a groan and said, “You carried this alone?” The generator clanged.
Tony looked up and said, “I may not look it, Mr. Gilbert, but I bench press two-hundred-twenty-five pounds.”
Ashley snorted. “Better you than me.”
As the troops boarded the buses, George continued staring at the bullet holes in his walls. Fritz touched the major's arm and nodded toward George.
“Another thing I hadn't considered.” she said. “Mr. McAllister, c
an you justify a partially completed paint job for tomorrow morning? I'll get a repair crew in tonight to patch the holes and paint, but we can't finish the whole hallway by morning.”
“You'll do it tonight?” George asked. “That means I'll have to stay.”
Tom put his hand on George's shoulder and said, “You can go home, George. I'll close up for you. I've been here at night before.”
“Okay, then,” said George. “Make sure the lights are out when you leave.”
“Tom, the security cameras,” Fritz said. Tom nodded.
“I'll let you in the office,” George said.
“No problem, George. I can get in. I'll take care of it.” George processed slowly how Tom watched over the school. And that he could unlock doors without official keys.
“Let's go home, George,” Lois said. “We'll see you all tomorrow. Good night.”
“See you in the morning then,” George said. As they were leaving, the Secret Service agents who had been standing in the parking lot came in to check the plan for departure.
Major Barclay said, “Fellas, give us a couple of minutes. Mr. Russell, I need to look over your list and see what else I need to have here on Wednesday.”
Just then, Fritz's phone rang. “The president,” he said. All eyes turned toward him.
“Sorry to be late,” said the president. “Is everyone still there?”
“We're just about done.”
“How did it go?” The president sounded anxious.
“Some glitches with the portal, Mr. President. And one group ran into a bunch of infiltrators. I'll let Dr. Barclay, I guess I mean Major Barclay, tell you. She went with the fourth group. Hang on.” He handed her his phone, and walked over to Linda and Ashley.
Tony had come back inside and waited with the agents, until Fritz completed his conversation. He said, “I think you're right, Fritz. I watched each time you went in the classroom. The door needs to close and open again for you to change the locations. You can't see into your room when they're inside the portal. Only when you reopen the door. That may explain not being able to see the exit from inside.” Tony told him that if an opportunity came, he wanted to measure power fluctuations inside the portal. “If changing the maps or opening the door can be measured inside, I can adjust the power needs. Right now, I'm just guessing.”
“This is way more complicated than I ever imagined. Tony, if the president plans to use the portal again, we have some things to figure out.”
Major Barclay spoke to the president for a few minutes while she walked down the hall. Everyone heard her say “You're not serious. They can't do that. Sorry, sir. It's just surprising. It's been a long day, sir. I'll get it set up.” She disconnected, walked back, and handed Fritz his phone.
“Tomorrow,” she said. “Apparently, the Israelis are set to go. The president asked them to hold off until the weekend to give him time to finish a negotiation. Apparently the Israelis have information about a planned attack during their high holy days. They don't know if it will be Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur, but they don't want to find out.”
“So what's your game plan?” asked Ashley. “It's already late. Will you have time to get this set up?”
“Mr. Gilbert, Ashley, I'll need to spend some time going over all the notes. Having the school available during the day would make this easier, but that's just another problem to solve.”
Tom said, “Major, the repair crew.”
“Sorry.” The call completed, she told them the crew would arrive in about forty-five minutes.
Tom said, “I'm going to set up our schedule. James and I will stay here. Mel will drive you. Where do you want to go?”
“I'll go to the office. I need a secure phone.”
“You're going back to Washington?” asked Ashley.
“You know it as the airport. We equipped a couple of new buildings during the summer. I've got to get to work.”
“Do you need help?”
“Thanks, Ashley, but you can't help with what I have to do. I'd have to shoot you. Mr. Russell, can you meet me after school tomorrow instead of Wednesday?”
“Yeah, sure. But I think it's okay now to call me Fritz. And this is Linda.”
“Good. I'm Jane. But when we're with the soldiers, I have to keep it formal, okay?”
“We understand. We have to do the same with other teachers when the kids are around.”
“Then, Fritz,” she said, “I'll have someone pick you up right after classes end and bring you to my office.”
“I can drive,” said Fritz.
“It's better my way.” She walked to the door, turned and said, “Good night. I'll see you tomorrow.”
Chapter 9
NO BULLET HOLES and a fresh coat of paint greeted Fritz, and the paint on the walls no longer looked awful next to the light green wall tiles. I wish they'd paint my room. The maps they'd used perched in a stack on his desk. He'd forgotten them. His key poked from the lock. He hid the maps under a pile of folders and placed his notes for the day on the desk. I can't zone out again. I need to get through the day.
During first period, he discussed feudal Europe, including the evolution of hereditary nobility and the growth of city-states that governed themselves and increased trade. But he found himself most focused when he discussed inventions that changed warfare, like the horseshoe and stirrups. And now it's high tech, like drones. I have to make sure the portal doesn't become an easy excuse for war.
Everything linked to the portal in Fritz's brain. During second period, he discussed the expansion of electrical power into the home and the consequent development of labor-saving appliances. He told the kids about the rivalry between Edison and Tesla. “Those of you taking physics will cover the difference between alternating current and direct current.” Hearing Tesla's name, the kids wanted to talk about electric cars. Fritz kept thinking about electrical storms. “Tomorrow, we'll talk about plastic,” he said as he sent them off.
In his other classes before lunch, Fritz discussed colonization in the New World, especially by the French, Spanish, and British. Each country had soldiers in the Americas, and the French and British recruited native tribes to help keep the other from controlling land and the fur trade. I wonder if the kids see any analogies with what goes on today. They just seem so much more aware of the world. Fritz told both groups to pay attention in their reading that night to the changes that would take place from the late seventeenth to the middle of the eighteenth centuries, when European wars affected colonial politics and control in the New World. Rule from across the ocean presented multiple challenges to the Europeans. He told them to consider the need for local government as westward settlement began. Wonder if they'll think about Iraq and Afghanistan? At lunch, Fritz's stomach growled. “I actually did real work today,” he told Ashley. “And I still can't explain it, but the kids seem more engaged.” Ashley nodded and grabbed extra sandwiches for both of them.
The afternoon went much as he expected until Michael Murton asked if the teachers had a union. There went his plans to talk about the Knights of Labor and the development of the American Federation of Labor.
“Why do you ask, Michael?”
“Well, on TV last night, someone said the problem with education is teachers' unions. I just wondered.”
“Let's talk about that in a wider context, okay?”
“Sure Mr. R. I didn't mean to interrupt.”
“It's okay. It ties in. Let's talk about why unions, including teachers' unions, developed. Before unions, employers had complete power to set wages and hours, and working conditions were often lousy. Often dangerous, in fact. Workers had no protections, either during or after their working lives. What do you know about why we have the phrases slave wages and sweat shops?” The class jumped in with modern stories and historical ones until Fritz finally took back the floor.
“Ok, so all the stuff you've just been talking about? That's why workers began to join together. They wanted a voice in how they spent the
ir work lives. The first unions, called trade unions, consisted of craftsmen and artisans who practiced a trade but were employed by others. As large industrial companies like coal-mining, cars, and steel grew, their workers also unionized—yeah, we really did make it into a verb.”
He let them catch up with their note-taking for a minute before he went on. “Then, in the middle of the twentieth century, public-service employees, like police, firemen, and teachers, people who worked for some government, also formed unions. Teachers' unions are mostly local, but they are affiliated with state and national organizations. Society has long viewed teaching as a simple job with no serious intellectual needs.
“The most important things teachers want are higher pay, a hand in developing curriculum, and retirement benefits. The idea others have is that just about anybody can walk into a classroom and teach, especially in the lower grades. Even budget discussions today are to some extent a reflection of historical contempt for teachers. Teachers have been among the lowest-paid professionals. Anyone want to guess why? Mike, this question started with you.”
“That fits with what my dad said,” Mike responded. “He said that teachers don't make stuff, there's no product that can be sold to benefit the economy. Teachers are an expense, not an asset. And taxpayers have to pick up the tab.”
“I don't agree with your father, but his view does reflect the historical attitude toward teachers. I think it also reflects the short-term thinking common in industrial society. Teachers prepare students to think and to apply their brains to their jobs. They are an economic investment in the future. So a product is made—better workers and professionals of all kinds. And politicians.”
Fritz took a breath. He had had this discussion more than once with Linda's father. Only his dislike for paying the taxes which supported government programs, including schools, surpassed Tim Miller's disdain for teachers. Other than their political differences, Tim's attitude toward teachers was a source of conflict between Fritz and Linda, the only serious one until he found the portal. He had learned over time that her father could not be criticized, the one thing guaranteed to start a quarrel.
Quantum Touch (Book 2): Sand Storm Page 9