Jade didn’t know much in the way of apocalyptic-event aftermaths, hypothetical or otherwise, but from what little she knew of them, she presumed there had to have been some survivors out there somewhere. But where the hell were they?
What they’d witnessed weren’t the results of a nuclear holocaust, global bioterrorism, or a war versus a hostile artificial intelligence that had wiped out human existence. A pandemic hadn’t occurred here, a supervolcano hadn’t erupted, and there weren’t any signs of environmental degradation bringing about mass famine. This was supposed to be the product, the aftereffects of a life-altering event triggered by an electromagnetic pulse. But to Jade, it felt distinctive…as if those aftermaths had been supplemented or magnified somehow by something far, far worse.
So she investigated, cognizant that her own footprints in the snow would put her at risk of being detected. She made use of the tree lines on either side of US Route 11 for concealment and jogged south, leaving as little evidence of her foot travel as conceivable along the way.
Just beyond the intersection marking the town limits, she discovered that the entire width of the road had been converted into a blockade. It was lined now with bollards and rows of reinforced star barriers surrounding a crash-rated beam checkpoint barricade. A squad of black-garbed agents in body armor, sporting suppressed carbines and submachine guns, stood near a handful of parked SUVs with tinted windows, some seated inside while running the engines to keep warm.
Jade concealed her face with a shemagh and spent a long moment analyzing the area, taking note of everything, every detail in her field of view, while maintaining awareness to keep out of sight. At the point she’d seen enough, she swiveled and made a rapid, stealthy exodus back to the Marauder.
She pulled her door closed, retook her seat and unzipped her jacket, only to find herself on the receiving end of a startling tongue-lashing.
“Where the hell have you been?” Alan roared, the objection in his tone rousing Ken.
Jade snapped her head his way, looking aghast while she removed her gloves. “Jesus! Really? Who do you think you are? My daddy? Calm the hell down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm the hell down! Where were you?”
Jade was stunned. Alan had never once used this tone with her. “I left for a little while…and went for a walk to gather some intel.”
“Where did you go? Intel on what?”
“Dude, seriously.” Ken yawned. “You don’t have to yell at her.”
“Shut up, Ken!”
“Oookay.”
Jade’s eyes went alight. “Alan, that’s enough! There’s no sense in this! Why are you so upset?”
“Why? Because I—wake up and you…aren’t where I saw you last! And after last night? After what we saw? I got worried! Really worried, so excuse me! Excuse the hell out of me for being concerned about you.” Alan exhaled a deep sigh and unfolded onto his seatback.
Jade sighed and unraveled her shemagh. “Hey, listen to me, I’m worried too. About all of us. That’s why I went. I had to know what we’re dealing with here.”
“Fine. And would you care to enlighten the rest of us?”
“We’re in this thing together, are we not? The circumstances affect all of us equally. And yes, I plan to, but only if you calm down…subdue your tone with me. And apologize to Ken for biting his head off.”
Alan folded his arms and took a few breaths. “Sorry, Ken.”
Ken held up his hands. “Hey, no problem, fam. Just don’t stroke out on us.”
Jade waited a long moment. “Okay, listen up, both of you. Everything we witnessed yesterday on the way here has been bugging me. Our close call with the Cougars only solidified it. I didn’t sleep a wink all night. We drove for hours yesterday and didn’t see a single soul, and the more I thought about it, the more it didn’t make any sense. All those people didn’t just disappear or vaporize into thin air. I realize a considerable number died off, that’s par for the course after a disaster like this. But a total absence of survivors after all those miles? No way. Something or someone else is to blame. And I reason they were taken somewhere.”
Ken tilted his head. “Taken? You mean—”
“I mean as in rounded up,” Jade snapped, “displaced by force and relocated. To where is anyone’s guess.”
Alan winced, placing a hand to his chest. “This intuition of yours isn’t helping to soothe my anxiety, Jade. Not in the least.”
“I know it isn’t, and I’m sorry. But we needed to know. From what I’ve seen, everything Valerie told us was spot-on. This area is occupied, and the town looks like it’s been sequestered.”
“Who by?” Ken asked, appearing engaged.
“DHS and elements of FEMA, FPS, ICE, any federal agency or department, plausibly. Homeland could’ve absorbed any entity of their choosing if granted autonomy under executive order. The highway into town is barricaded at the city limits.” She then filled in the particulars.
“Good grief, Jade. You’re talking FOB-style security,” Ken said.
Jade nodded. “I know. I’ve seen secured positions before, but nothing quite like what they have. For a civilian operation, it’s vastly militarized, mirroring that of foreign consular defenses…in a third world.”
“Seems as though our world has become just that,” Alan said, his tone now mollified. “It’s good that we know this, and I appreciate the gamble you made to find out. I’m sorry…for going for your jugular, Jade. It wasn’t right.”
“It’s okay. I know there’s a lot eating at you.”
“That still doesn’t make it right,” Alan said, hanging his head. He sighed. “We’re really in deep now, aren’t we? And what you found out changes a few things. What’s our best play from here?”
Jade bit her lip. “I don’t think it matters anymore. Any move we make bears serious risks from here on out, the primary one being confrontation. We know they can see us at night just as plain as day, so timing is no longer relevant. It doesn’t matter when we go, and I doubt it matters what direction we choose.”
Ken chortled. “Sounds to me like you’re expecting a run-in with them regardless of what we decide.”
Jade nodded her head hesitantly. “Pray for the best, plan for the worst, never take anything too lightly,” she said. “That credo has never served me wrong. The odds of finding ourselves in a chance meeting with an opposing force are generous now. We could take any one of twenty routes out of here and any of them could lead to an ambush or be blocked off by an armed barricade like the one I just saw.”
“We’ll need to think up a way to deal with that,” Alan said.
Jade smiled grimly. “I think I already have. Granted, it’s unusual as hell and bears a share of risks. And to pull it off, I need you both to trust me, and all three of us must be in agreement.”
“Here we go,” Ken said, leering at Alan. “Jade’s got something up her sleeve at all times.”
“Not this time. But it does involve something I have in my bag.” Jade crawled into the rear compartment with Alan and acquired her backpack, pulling from it a roll-top dry bag. She dug inside and extracted her old uniform, the one issued to her by the Department of State.
Ken smirked. “Oh, I get it. If we stumble on them, you’re just going to stroll up to them wearing that, with a big naïve smile, and holler ‘same team, same team’, and hope they go for it, right?”
Jade located Ken’s pack, unzipped it and dug inside. “No, we both are,” she said, tossing his uniform bundle to him.
“Oh.” He unrolled the items and felt through the wrinkles.
“Travelling at night is no longer viable, and all the same, neither is waiting here. I think being proactive and going dynamic is our best option. In fact, my impulse is heading directly south from here right into town, and right to them.”
Ken and Alan both responded with, “What?”
Alan looked shocked. “No way you’re genuinely considering that an option.”
“No shit. What
have you been drinking?” Ken prodded. “And why aren’t you sharing?”
“Guys, please. I know it’s a lot to swallow, but let me quarterback this,” Jade pled. “At first contact, we’ll anticipate hostility and aggression. Because it will happen. We follow their instructions to the letter, exit slowly and smile a lot, go with business as usual. Offer righteous answers to whatever questions they pose and do whatever we can to achieve a common ground, all while presenting these.” She held aloft a clear LOKSAK, a waterproof, sealable, plastic storage bag, within which were three folding leather identification wallets, each bearing the Seal of the US Diplomatic Security Service.
“You’re shitting me. Are those our credentials?” pondered Ken. “I thought we lost them.”
“No, not lost. I stashed them on the towpath about a half a mile shy of Camp Hill. We were in a sticky situation and needed to buy some time. I didn’t know who we’d run into or how they’d react to bumping into three federal agents right off the bat.”
Ken peered into Jade’s pack. “I don’t suppose you have our uniform patches hidden in there.”
“Unfortunately, no. But valid State Department credentials should carry enough influence to cover that.”
Ken took the bag and found his ID, then handed Jade hers. “Alan, if you shaved your head real quick and dyed your facial hair a few shades, you might pass for Walt.”
Alan smirked. “Though I would still lack the uniform.”
“Just tell them it’s laundry day.”
“I think we can forgo that,” said Jade. “Alan will be staying here, leaving you and me to deal with this. Our IDs haven’t expired and should serve as proof that we are very much retained by DOS. If we roll up to that checkpoint waving federal creds and hand them a believable story, our unexpected arrival and the exotic armor we’re driving should be nonissues. Like Ken said, more or less, we’re on the same team, there’s no reason not to let us pass. Especially if we refuse to take no for an answer.”
Alan deliberated over this. “What if they contact State for verification and learn the contrary? It’s been over a year; both of you could be excommunicated by now.”
“If the cavern is still in operation, which is doubtful, I presume that would be the case,” Jade said. “Most of our servers failed, and we lost the majority of our comms capabilities at zero hour, most of which hinged on the now fundamentally extinct internet.”
Alan shifted in his seat. “What about satellites?”
Jade’s brows drew together. “I recall what Butch said, too. And I believe him, most of our birds are up there, still in orbit and operational. But State’s utilization of satcom was rare, used intermittently at best, mostly for personal calls, inter-embassy videoconferences and low-bandwidth stuff. Add to that they were complicated as hell; setting them up required bringing in third-party contractor geeks with know-how.”
“Like Butch?” Ken joked.
“And you’re certain by choosing differently and getting caught in the open, either by a roadblock or patrol, the ramifications would be worse, correct?” Alan asked.
Jade nodded. “Way worse, especially if we’re spotted and they moved in to pursue. Even our calmest attempts at reasoning could be misheard or completely ignored with the other side jacked up on adrenaline. And you can bet a lot of automatic rifles will be pointed our way, mostly by inexperienced shooters with hard-ons, shaky trigger fingers, and dilated pupils. Both options are risky, but the direct approach affords us an opportunity to achieve and maintain armistice long enough to disappear from their radar.”
“Both options afford a grand opportunity to achieve death, if you ask me,” Ken said snidely, scratching his head. “Okay, say we go with running the gamut and drive this hunk of iron right down their craw. We talk sense into them, get them to lower their guns, but they start probing us for info. What story are we going with?”
Jade closed her eyes momentarily. “I’ve been giving that some thought too. Why would two DSS agents be traveling in the middle of nowhere this late in the game, unannounced, in a foreign-built APC, unaided by security and support elements?” She paused. “On the way back this morning, it hit me. Sugar Grove Station. And the Greenbrier.”
Alan’s eyes perked up.
Jade went on without further ado. “Sugar Grove is an NSA communication site in West Virginia, not far from where we’re headed. It was built to intercept international comms entering the eastern US. The site at one time also contained NAVIOCOM, the Naval Information Operations Command, but the base was shut down and repurposed in 2015, supposedly.”
“Repurposed for what?” Ken asked.
“The unclassified narrative portrayed that a privately owned healthcare facility for veterans was taking it over,” Jade explained. “The…not-so-unclassified one involved the construction of a one-hundred-twenty-two-acre underground, self-sustaining, hardened bunker complex for CoG, but neither of you heard that from me. Greenbrier Resort made a covert agreement with the government back in the fifties to serve as the same, primarily for senators and congressmen. The program was called Project Greek Island, and it was supposedly mothballed after becoming public knowledge during the Cold War. But the program, the plan, the bunker, provisions, everything…still exists under a new guise.”
Ken’s face contorted. “Jade, you’re talking continuity of government, and no one outside the highest echelons and clearances knows where cabinet members or the joint chiefs actually went. They could’ve gotten shipped anywhere—to another country or an island, for all we know.”
“Exactly, Ken. You took the words right out of my mouth,” Jade said. “For all we know. My clearance had so many attached designations that my last supervisor used to call it NSC, as in ‘no such classification’. I shook his hand dozens of times, briefed him and even got invited to dinner at his estate, but did I know where SecState would go in the event of an officially declared national crisis? Hell no. You’re right, he could be anywhere, but the fact remains whoever hears our story is certain to be just as much in the dark as we are. The narrative will be bullshit, and we’ll be tasked with conveying the opposite—compellingly.”
“And you can do that?” Alan asked.
Jade sent a cautious grin. “Look a man in the eyes and tell a lie to his face?” She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve done it a time or two before. But, to be clear, never once to either of you.” She paused. “So chat me up. I need opinions, so let’s hear them.”
Alan rubbed his forehead. “Your plan is dicey. There’s holes in it, it feels wrong, and I for one don’t like it. But I’m far from being the expert here, and miles away from being unbiased. I don’t want my frame of mind to pollute what could be a sensible strategic move.” He sighed with closed eyes. “Fuck it. I say we go for it.”
Jade turned to Ken.
“‘We quell the storm, and ride the thunder’,” Ken said, quoting his Marine Corps infantry battalion’s motto. “Oorah! I’m down for whatever. Let the chips fall where they may.”
“And you both understand the risks?”
“I do,” Alan said.
“Ken?”
“Are we there yet?” he replied, using a Texan drawl not his own, spawning outlandish looks from his companions. “Sorry. Just…miss my boy that’s all.” He shrugged, holding Walter’s ID wallet between his fingers.
Jade blushed a little. “We miss him, too.”
Alan gestured agreeance with a sidelong glance.
“Okay, since it’s unanimous, let’s get ready to move. And that means two of us need to modify our apparel.” Jade redeployed to the opposite side of the rear compartment, removed her boots and started to undress, only to stop mid-stride. “Um, look. I realize this is far from being a co-ed locker room, but seriously, no peeking. Either of you.”
Alan turned away and shielded his eyes, using his hand as a blinder.
Ken unbuckled his belt. “No promises,” he joked, sliding his pants to his ankles. “Damn, this is awkward.”
Chapter
24
With a quickened pulse, Jade released the accelerator and allowed the twelve-ton APC to sluggishly idle itself toward the checkpoint. As it crept, a mass of armed guards surged outward on each flank and circled the Marauder, their rifles fitted to their shoulders. They bawled furious orders to stop immediately or they would open fire, for all passengers to disembark with hands raised, and that failing to comply would be met with lethal force.
Jade barely rotated her neck to share a look with Ken, making certain he was in sync with her. She guided the shifter to park and gave Alan a parting notice. “No matter what happens, stay inside and out of sight.”
The pair exited in unison, secured their doors on their way out, then hopped down and lifted their arms to the sky, federal credentials folded open and in plain sight.
The guards rallied around them, shoved and manhandled them roughly at first, and with their faces pressed against the APC’s hull, they were patted down invasively for weapons. Some of the guards began noticing a familiarity with the subjects’ uniforms, and as they whispered amongst themselves, uncertainty filtered through the collective.
Jade strained to speak over the ruckus. “Take it easy, guys! Hear us out, please! We are federal agents! Both of us, federal agents!”
Jade and Ken remained passive, and several unfriendly grimaces gave way to warmer looks, even more so at finding neither had been armed. Two guards ripped the IDs from their hands and escorted them at gunpoint to the far side of the barricade, leaving a dozen or more to picket and inspect the APC.
A man seated in the SUV nearest the gate withdrew, placed a bump helmet bearing a subdued sergeant’s chevron on his head, and approached with caution. As he studied the identification handed to him, his expression grew quizzical. “Diplomatic Security Service? Agent Kenneth Winters”—he eyeballed Ken—“and Special Agent Constance Hensley.” He studied Jade from her heels to her split ends. “I wasn’t aware we were expecting a visit from the State Department.” He motioned to his men to lower their weapons. “What brings the two of you here? That’s an interesting set of wheels, by the way.”
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