by D. J. Molles
Marie looked unconvinced. “Well, I suppose we see things differently.”
“There’s no ‘way to see things.’ There’s just the truth.”
“You’re talking about politics, Angela. It’s never that black and white.” Marie rubbed her eyebrows. “You’re trying to take the moral high ground on an issue that has nothing to do with morals.”
Angela crossed her arms, glaring, but not quite clear on what Marie was saying.
Marie continued. “We’re not fighting Greeley because of some humanitarian crisis, Angela. You think the average person in Fort Bragg gives a shit how President Briggs is treating his populace a thousand miles away? No. They don’t like Briggs. That’s it. They don’t like Briggs, because Briggs left them to die and then wants to come in after the fact and still act like King Shit, and they think that’s a load of horseshit. Which it is. But don’t mistake that for some crazy crisis of conscience.”
Angela dug her heels in. “I’m not doing it. I think we’re better than that. We’re going to act civilized, because unless we are civilized and restrained, we sure as hell can’t ask anyone else to act that way, can we?”
Marie smiled wanly. “You’re not wrong.”
Angela snorted and looked away. “But you don’t think I’m right.”
Marie reached out and put a comforting hand on Angela’s shoulder. “I think I would hate to be in your shoes.”
It was hard for Angela to stay mad when Marie was always such a comforting figure. She took a few deep breaths to settle herself down. “I apologize. I’m just…”
“Edgy?”
“Yes.”
Marie squeezed her shoulder, then let go. “Abby’s doing very well. No signs of anything. She had a little bit of a stomachache this morning, but I think it was probably just homesickness. She wants to get out of here. I think they’ll release her soon.”
Angela nodded. Her own bit of information received, she figured it was her duty to give Marie hers. “I haven’t heard from Lee in a few days. I think they’re still trying to determine their footing over in Texas. But, the good news is that if there was anything wrong, I think they’d let us know.”
Marie nodded, a look of brief concern crossing her features.
Julia was Marie’s younger sister. She’d been with them since the beginning. And during all those years of hard fighting, Marie had never gotten completely comfortable with her sister being in harm’s way all the time.
When Angela got updates from Lee and the team, she tried to pass on any news about Julia.
It was still strange for Angela. There’d been something between her and Lee, back when they were just two people trying to survive in a place called Camp Ryder. But he’d gone someplace in his heart, and in his mind, and he’d never come back. It seemed like the only person he connected with now was Julia. They had something.
It wasn’t jealousy that Angela felt when these thoughts came on. It was just…regret. She wished that she could comprehend the dark places that Lee had gone to. In a way, she wished she could have been darker herself, so that she could have commiserated with him.
But they were too different.
Angela’s worldview was as different from Lee’s as it was from Carl’s, and Angela didn’t think she’d ever be the type of person that could understand and appreciate the utilitarian thinking that those guys sometimes showed. How sometimes cold-blooded murder is the best thing for everyone.
Angela couldn’t wrap her head around it.
Maybe it was her job to balance out the equation, but sometimes it felt like a lonely side of the scales to stand on.
“Come on,” Marie said, breaking the silence, and gesturing down the hall. “Let’s find a nurse. I’m sure they’ve got some grub around here somewhere.”
***
Carl was still irritable when he arrived back at The Compound. He was not the type to storm around—or really emote at all—but his team detected his mood, nonetheless.
It was in the cinch of his icy gray eyes.
It was in the flat line of his lips.
And in the gait of his walk as he stalked into the main building of The Compound.
The Compound was a set of large but simple steel structures that had, back in the day, housed the offices of Carl’s team, and a few others under the Combat Applications Group.
It was the very same set of buildings that had, once upon a time, been the only occupied ones in Fort Bragg. The same set of buildings where Carl and his team of operatives had captured Abe Darabie, along with the ill-fated Lucas Wright.
Tucked back in the woods, and undisturbed by all the civilian traffic.
The Compound had never stopped being Carl’s homebase, though he did keep a desk in the Support Center, in the room that Lee and the team—what was left of them, anyways—had called The Cave. Carl had no desire to go back there. He had no desire to look at his dead friends’ belongings.
In the main building, in one of the common rooms that served as the armory and equipment storage for Carl’s team, his men were unpacking their things. Mitch and Rudy were hanging up their kit on designated sections of a pegboard that sat on the wall. Logan was cleaning his rifle.
Morrow sat inspecting the damage to a shirt he’d worn during the operation at the airport a few days prior. The shoulder of it had been shredded by spall—not to mention Morrow’s actual flesh, but he seemed more concerned with the shirt.
Luckily, his ancient MultiCam ballcap had survived relatively unscathed, and was now perched on his head, Morrow’s wild chestnut mane curling out from under it.
There was some light banter that died as Carl walked into the room, but mostly everyone kept doing what they were doing, giving him a glance, and grunting a greeting to him.
Morrow looked perturbed at the condition of his shirt and then glowered in Carl’s direction. “I can already tell that it didn’t go well.”
Carl put his hands on his hips and considered this. “Define ‘well.’”
Mitch decided to offer an explanation as he untangled commo wires from his plate carrier. “Angela doesn’t want us going around black bagging civilians.”
Carl shook his head. “No. She doesn’t.”
Logan—their youngest member—made a series of disgruntled noises, then set the disassembled upper receiver of his rifle down with a clank. “Un-fucking-believable. They just tried to kill her. Literally. Just. Tried.”
Morrow leaned back into his seat. “So what do you want us to be doing, Boss?”
Carl sighed through his nose, thinking. Then: “No change. Do what you were doing before we got mixed up in Lee’s shit. Keep your eye on the Lincolnists. Follow them. Track them. ID them.” He looked at each of his team members in turn, to make sure that they made eye contact with him and understood the meaning beneath his words. “There may come a time when we have to…diverge…from official policy. If you got a problem with that, then I need to know now.”
Rudy looked back over his shoulder for a moment. He gave a facial shrug that made his Huckleberry Hound jowls even more pronounced, then went back to hanging his gear.
No one said a word.
Carl nodded to them. “Then we just keep on keepin’ on. And we hope that the Lincolnists force Angela’s hand before she forces ours.”
eight
─▬▬▬─
NO WAY OUT
The hideout was high in the Texas hill country.
By the time Thompson drove them up to the ramshackle hunting cabin, a squad of Tex’s raiders had already arrived, and Julia was with them.
The hunting cabin looked like it had been nice at one point in time. More of a lodge. Tex said these used to be private hunting grounds where rich folks would sit in comfortable stands and peg antelope from three hundred yards.
Now the siding moldered, the roof looked like shit, and several windows were busted out. But there were obvious signs of recent habitation by Tex’s men.
They had hideouts like this sprinkled a
ll over North Texas. They preferred a lot of small satellite locations to one big central location. Tex was well aware that President Briggs would eventually get air power again, and Tex didn’t want to give him any juicy targets on which to drop bombs.
Thompson drove them around to the back of the cabin, where a few other vehicles were parked under a canopy of mesquite and oak. He sidled the truck between two thick trees, with just enough room for them to open the doors and squeeze out.
The back door opened into a common area where some of Tex’s men were already lounging.
The second that Lee saw Julia, he knew something was off.
The common area was a mash of stuffed animal heads, crappy nature paintings, and wood paneling. There was an old leather couch, and a few chairs with fraying upholstery. There was also a collection of sun-bleached camping chairs and rickety folding chairs.
Julia slouched in one of the camping chairs, surrounded by ten of Tex’s men. Greetings were passed back and forth between Tex and his crew, but Julia remained silent, and looked meaningfully at Lee from under her eyebrows, like she had something she wanted to say, but was holding it back.
Shit, Lee thought. What happened now?
The squad leader, Menendez, had risen and traded a casual back-slap with Tex.
“How’d it go?” Tex asked.
“Good.” Menendez smiled. “We hit five tankers. We were able to haul three of them off. Fired the other two. No casualties. For us, anyways.”
“Good.” Tex nodded, thinking. “Great, actually. Stellar job. Squad Two got the three tankers secured?”
“Took ‘em to the quarry.”
Tex squeezed his man on the shoulder. “That’s why I keep you around, Menendez.”
“Stop. I’m blushing.”
Lee and Abe sidled casually over to Julia while Tex and Menendez conversed.
Lee nodded to her. “Everything alright?”
“Hunky dory, Lee,” Julia replied, not looking at him. Which was as good as saying, No, it’s all fucked up.
Lee exchanged a quick glance with Abe.
Tex turned his attention on them. He had his M-frames pushed up onto his head, which made him look relaxed. Like maybe he was on his way to hang out on a lake. Except for the body armor and weapons.
“Lee,” Tex said. “I got some important people I need to meet with. I’m taking Thompson and Menendez with me. You gonna be okay sticking around here?”
Lee was surprised that Tex didn’t ask him to come along, but he nodded. It would work out better anyway—he needed to talk to his team in private. “Yeah. We’ll be good.” He gestured to Deuce, who sat against his leg now. “Need to let this guy take a few laps around the cabin anyways. He’s been cooped up.”
Tex smiled. “Right. Well. We’ll be back by tonight.” A wink. “If all goes well.” He waved his pointer finger at everyone else in the room. “The rest of you maniacs be good.” He paused, looking over the shoulder of the soldier nearest him, who was cobbling together a cigarette. “You ain’t got watch anytime soon, do you?”
The man stopped picking through his cigarette and looked up at Tex. “’Course not. Not until midnight.”
Tex seemed satisfied with that answer. He gave one last nod to Lee, and then he, Menendez, and Thompson departed out the back again.
Lee watched the man with the cigarette for a moment. Realized he was picking marijuana seeds out of it. He wasn’t surprised. Entertainment in any form you could get it was vital for morale, and there weren’t a lot of other options out here. Tex had to be lenient out of necessity, and Lee could appreciate that position.
Lee was curious though. “You find a stash somewhere?”
The soldier looked up, now in the process of rolling. “Pff. I wish. This is just some Mexican ditch weed we found growing wild. Better than nothing. Tex don’t mind as long as we don’t have a scheduled mission or watch within eight hours.” He licked, and pasted. Held it up to Lee. “Want some?”
Lee smiled, but shook his head. “Maybe later.”
He wouldn’t have any later, either. Maybe if he were back inside a Safe Zone, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he was taking anything mind-altering while out here.
He gave Julia and Abe a look. “I’m gonna walk Deuce around a bit outside. Let him get a feel for the area.”
Julia stood up. “I’ll grab some fresh air with you.”
Abe nodded and followed them out.
The three of them stayed quiet as they walked away from the house. Lee scanned all around him, and managed to slip a glance back at the cabin. He was curious if any of Tex’s men were watching them.
Was that paranoid?
There was no one visible.
The forest huddled close to the cabin, and within a minute they could barely see the cabin through the trees. Lee started angling to the left. Walking slowly in a fifty yard radius from the cabin. Deuce trotted off and meandered between trees, constantly sniffing the air and expertly rationing two or three drops of urine for every other tree trunk.
“So, what’s wrong?” Lee asked, taking another long look at Julia.
Julia considered the question with a scrunched brow. “I dunno. I didn’t like how some things went down.”
Julia handled herself well, but Lee also knew that being the only female had to take a toll on her. He just wasn’t sure how to frame that question without getting her hackles up.
He went with, “You catch any flak from the guys?”
Julia shook her head. “No. Nothing like that. Ogling, which I guess is to be expected, but nothing more.” She gave a disconcerted huff of breath. “No. There was a woman. In the convoy.”
Lee’s mind immediately went to the darkest aspect that could be interpreted from that.
Julia must have noticed him stiffen as they walked. “It wasn’t rape,” she corrected.
“Okay…”
“She was wounded during the ambush. I tried to treat her. Menendez wouldn’t let me. We got into an argument about it. She died. They let her die.”
The three of them walked in silence for a moment.
“I keep going back and forth,” Julia continued. “Wondering who was right. But it felt wrong. I didn’t like it.”
Abe was the one that spoke up, and Lee appreciated that. Sometimes Lee and Julia could butt heads about things, and Julia tended to react more strongly to Lee than to Abe, so he was glad to have Abe take the heat.
“Jules, they don’t exactly have the infrastructure to take prisoners.”
“I know.” But her expression remained pensive. She pulled to a stop, and Lee and Abe stopped with her. She looked between the two of them. “What are we doing here?”
Lee considered this for a moment, watching Deuce make his rounds. His plate carrier felt heavy on his shoulders and he shifted around, grimacing slightly at the discomfort of the healing gunshot wound to his chest. He’d be glad to get the armor off of him.
“We have a shared enemy,” Lee said. “Two shared enemies, actually. Greeley, and Nuevas Fronteras. Right now, we’ve got fuel tankers being sent to the UES, and that’s a stopgap that’ll last us a little bit. But our original mission remains the same: We need what Nuevas Fronteras has. We need the oil rigs. We need the refineries. Without them, the UES doesn’t stand a chance in the long run. And right now, I see Tex as our one viable option for taking control of what we need.”
“So how much are we going to overlook?” Julia asked.
Lee loosened the cummerbund on his rig and shifted it to alleviate some of the pain. “Frankly, Jules, I’m willing to overlook a lot.”
Abe tugged gently at his dark beard. “What about OP Elbert?”
Julia raised an eyebrow. “What happened there?”
“We went to deliver supplies,” Abe answered her, lowering his voice, like he was concerned someone might overhear them. “Some crazy, backwoods rednecks. They were supposed to show us bodies from all the primals they’d killed, and Tex was gonna give them supplies for it.
But they only had the heads.” Abe’s nose wrinkled and he looked off into the woods. “Apparently they were...using the bodies for meat.”
Julia’s eyes widened. “Like…to eat?”
Abe nodded.
“Christ.”
Lee’s face darkened. “I felt that the situation was handled as best as could be expected, Abe.”
Abe shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe. Until the part where they started talking about wiping them out.”
Lee held up a finger. “Thompson started talking about that. Not Tex.”
Abe made a face. “Come on, Lee. Tex just didn’t want to say it in front of you. Those guys are as good as dead.”
“So, what?” Julia looked shocked. “They’re just gonna send a kill squad to take them out?”
“No, they didn’t say anything like that,” Lee snapped.
“You’re right.” Abe’s tone said that Lee wasn’t. “They implied it. Heavily.”
Lee frowned at him. “And so what if they do? Thompson made the only point that matters here, Abe: They can’t have those yahoos roaming around in their backyard.” Lee’s face felt hot as he grumbled, “I had half a mind to kill them myself.”
He’d had more than half a mind.
He’d been damn close to doing it.
But he kept that to himself.
The three of them were quiet for a moment.
A dozen yards from them, Deuce scented the air, then looked back at Lee, as though to see if he was needed for anything. Then he continued on his way.
“Let’s put that aside for a minute,” Julia said. “It’s not about the woman they let die, or whether OP Elbert is gonna get shellacked. Let’s talk about the endgame here.”
“Fine,” Lee nodded. “The endgame, as I see it, is that I trust Tex. He might be going about things differently than I would, but they’ve had different problems to solve than we have. They’re sandwiched between Greeley and Nuevas Fronteras. Tex has been fighting two wars practically since the beginning. That doesn’t leave a whole lot of leeway for civility, and frankly, I don’t blame him.”