by Ricky Sides
After the conversation with Bob Reager, Jim once more contacted the Detroit peacekeepers and explained what he had learned from Bob. He then asked them to search for one of the new automobiles along the road. He specifically requested searches for the normal routes between Saginaw and the southern border of Indiana. He further suggested that they also search the normal routes that a vehicle traveling from the south might take to reach Detroit, just in case the men had felt sick and opted to go to Detroit, instead of going straight to Saginaw. He reminded the Detroit peacekeeper to whom he was speaking that he should warn the pilots that the disease was very contagious and had a one hundred percent mortality rate.
Next Pete contacted the Texas, Mississippi, Base 1, Tennessee, and Georgia patrol ships and ordered them to load up their ships with volunteers willing to don protective equipment and see to the gathering of the bodies in the Louisiana cities for cremation.
Later that night the peacekeepers received word that the missing men from Saginaw had been located and they were doing fine. They had made an overnight side trip and hadn’t bothered to radio in their change of plans. Bob Reager assured Jim that the men had been severely reprimanded for that lapse and informed that they had not only disrupted Reager Industries; they had caused peacekeepers to have to fly search missions looking for them.
It was a logistical nightmare, but somehow they got the job done as one by one they cleared the cities. That work took several days but there was encouraging news from New Orleans. The plague seemed to have run its course in the city. There had been no further incidents of the disease in twenty-four hours. To the best of the mayor’s knowledge, security forces had contained the people of the city, thus eliminating all possibility of the spread of the vicious plague. When pressed as to how he had managed to contain the residents, whose inclination would naturally be to flee a city besieged by the plague, the mayor confessed that he had circulated the rumor that the other cities and states around them actually had it worse than did New Orleans. The man added that he had used the requested video feed of the smaller cities west of New Orleans to convince the population that it would be best to hunker down and ride out the plague in their own city since they now had a handle on the epidemic.
The mayor had confided that the food situation in the city was going to become critical soon and Jim reminded him that there were gardens loaded with produce at the cities to the west. He recommended that the mayor send out teams to gather in the food. He assured the mayor that to the best of his knowledge the cities were now safe but recommended that the teams avoid the buildings anyway. Peacekeepers had cleared every building and cleaned them of biohazards as best they could, but it was possible that they missed something. The doctor assured them that without a medium for the disease organisms to multiply they should all die out relatively soon. She recommended waiting a month to be sure before entering the buildings without full protective gear. The mayor assured Jim that they would wait three months, as he had no desire for a repetition of the plague in the city.
Maggie was sitting in the galley of the battleship module with the rest of the crew the morning after they had finally completed their work in the eight cities and the small village whose populations had fallen victim to the disease. Speaking to Jim, Maggie said, “We were very lucky. We managed the recovery and cremations, not to mention the biohazard cleanup, without a single infection among the workers. If anyone had asked me, I’d have given very bad odds on us being able to accomplish that. Actually I would have said it would be impossible,” she added soberly. She further stated that the disease organisms that she had collected from the original victims had been virulent for twenty-four hours outside the host and then died, as if on a timer. One moment they were robust, and the next they were dead.
That observation caused Pol to ask, “Are you saying that the disease was a weaponized strain?”
Maggie frowned as she cut her piece of toast with grape jelly. She thought about how she wanted to answer that question. Finally, she shrugged and said, “It’s nothing that I can prove. But if I were going to design a fatal disease as a weapon, I don’t think I could do much to improve on this disease organism.” Glancing at the others, she said, “Think about it. The disease has a one hundred percent mortality rate. Contact with body fluids spreads the disease. It doesn’t go airborne, which is a plus if you intend to invade. It’s relatively safe for you to move the bodies in low-grade cheap protective gear. A mild disinfectant kills the disease organisms. Yet if the people afflicted don’t know the secrets to handling the disease it is extremely dangerous and wipes out city populations leaving the cities intact for the invaders to sanitize in relative safety.”
“Are you suggesting that you think we may be invaded?” Jim asked in surprise.
“Oh no, not at all,” Maggie responded. “For all we know the disease was spread in Central America, Mexico, Cuba, or South America, and the people on the boat were fleeing the plague.”
“True, but to be on the safe side of this issue it might be a good idea to bring portions of a few more flight wings down here and start patrolling the gulf extensively,” Pete said thoughtfully.
Shrugging, Jim said, “The practice would be good for the flights so I don’t see a downside, as long as they can safely navigate the Gulf.”
“That’s quite easy with the global positioning system units,” Namid said smiling.
“Alright, then shall we move half the Texas flight wing to Houston?” asked Jim. “From there they can patrol the western Gulf of Mexico.”
“Yes,” replied Pete and then he added, “And half of the Base 1 flight wing can come down to the Mobile area to cover the eastern third of the Gulf.”
Nodding his head Jim said, “The central section could be covered by the Lake Charles flight wing, since most of them already patrol the gulf looking for pirates anyway.”
“Gentlemen, I think I need to mention that this disease isn’t something that could be easily created. No pirate outfit could have cooked this up. Not in a million years. This disease organism, if it has been deliberately created, was done by a government with access to a huge budget and sophisticated equipment.”
“Could it be one of our own bio warfare organisms?” Pol asked quietly.
Shrugging, Maggie said, “That’s a possibility but the boat came from the Gulf, and according to the information we obtained concerning the disease carrier, he spoke no English, and only said yes and no with a heavy accent.”
“Therefore he could have been any nationality,” said Tim frowning. “It’s too bad we had to burn the ship. We could have studied their maps and perhaps learned something useful. Then glancing at Pol he asked, “You didn’t see a map while you were below in the rooms did you?”
Shaking his head Pol said, “No my friend, I didn’t see any maps.”
***
Peacekeeper flight groups diligently patrolled the Gulf of Mexico in the weeks that followed. These patrols saw no sign of any invasion force, but their presence did act as a deterrent on the aggressive pirates operating in those waters. Numerous pirate ships were located and sent to the bottom of the Gulf when they fired on the low flying fighters. Most of those vessels were large speedboats but a few were larger ships.
They stepped up the patrol flights and ordered them to patrol the areas surrounding the stricken cities, with orders to seek the signs of mass graves or bodies. However, there were no further outbreaks of the mysterious disease. That threat seemed to have been contained to New Orleans and the smaller cities and villages to the west, thanks in no small part to the actions of the now official Mayor Reagan of New Orleans.
The council decided to maintain the temporary flight bases for another three months. The broadened patrols in the Gulf would be maintained throughout that period. If they detected no invasion forces by the end of that period, then the fighters would return to their home bases.
Chapter 9
The Mobile based squadron was flying a patrol near the southern bor
der of Florida. They spotted a small open boat in the Gulf of Mexico about a mile offshore. A man lay in the open boat. He saw the fighters hovering near him and stared in wonder for a moment. Slowly and with apparent effort, the man waved and then lay still in the bottom of the boat. Flight leader Jeff Brown activated his external speaker and asked if the man in the boat needed assistance. Struggling to a seated position the man nodded his head in the affirmative. Using the radio Jeff spoke to his squadron and informed them that he was going to try to tow the man ashore.
Twice before the patrol had encountered distressed fishermen who had encountered difficulty in the Gulf. Because of those encounters, the flight leader had added a rope to his standard equipment. The stout rope was secured to a bracket attached to his cockpit seat. The pilot opened his cockpit canopy and tossed out the two hundred foot length of rope. He gently maneuvered his fighter until the man in the boat could reach the rope. “Tie the end of the rope to the bow of your boat. When you are ready I will slowly tow you ashore,” the flight leader instructed.
The man in the boat crawled to the bow and secured the rope. He tested his knot and then lay back down in the boat, apparently exhausted from his efforts.
Communicating with his wingman Jeff said, “You’ll have to be my eyes. Warn me if there are any problems with the boat or the passenger.”
“Will do, Jeff,” the wingman replied. “You just be sure a wave doesn’t catch you and send you to the bottom. You’ll have to fly just feet above the surface for this to work,” the man said with a concerned tone of voice.
“I think my main worry is going to be throttling up slowly enough that I don’t break the rope, but your concern is noted,” Jeff responded.
The flight leader dropped down to just five feet above the surface of the sea and slowly accelerated forward toward the shore. “Jeff, stop! The bow of the boat has shifted to starboard a few degrees,” the wingman reported. “If you take the slack out now the boat may capsize. Take your fighter 5 degrees to starboard to compensate. When the rope tightens, you can swing back on course.”
Jeff manipulated the controls of his fighter and then said, “Done, Ted. Let me know when the rope is tight and the boat is matching my forward momentum.”
“Will do,” the wingman responded. Moments later he said, “That’s it, Jeff. You have the boat in tow, and it is matching your forward momentum. Well done.”
The trip ashore seemed to take an exceedingly long time. Accustomed to flying at or near the top speed of the fighter, Jeff considered ten miles per hour of forward motion to be little more than standing still. Soon his wingman radioed in saying, “Jeff, you have some pretty sizeable breakers ahead. If you shift twenty degrees to port you can bring the boat ashore in relatively gentle surf.”
“Making a course correction. Thank you for the heads up, Ted. The guy in the boat looks very weak. I doubt he’d make it out of the water if the boat capsized or sank,” Jeff responded. “Just let me know when to alter course again to bring him ashore with the waves astern his boat,” the flight leader instructed.
“Roger, flight leader,” the wingman replied. Jeff maintained his course and speed. “Alright, swing her back to port now, Jeff. The rest of the ride should be a breeze,” the wingman said.
As he was executing the maneuver, the flight leader said, “The rest of you guys fly to the shore. Four of you land and prepare to assist the man in the boat. Take a bottle of water but don’t let him drink too much too fast. The rest of the squadron stay airborne and fly cover. Warn us if someone approaches us by air, land, or sea. Ted, you fly a five mile perimeter around us watching for hostiles,” Jeff ordered. The squadron flew off to follow his orders.
As Jeff approached to within fifty yards of the beach, he saw four of his pilots waiting to assist the boat ashore. Activating his external speaker he said, “One of you get ready to cut the rope when the other three have a firm grip on it and then the four of you pull the boat ashore while I land.”
The men waved to acknowledge the order and then they lined up to receive the rope. The last man in line pulled a knife to cut the rope. “We have the rope Jeff,” he heard one of the men yell.
Jeff flew over to the area up the beach where the four other fighters had landed, but before he climbed out of his cockpit he radioed his wingman flying cover, “Ted, any sign of hostiles?”
“Negative, flight leader. Not a sign of anyone,” Ted responded.
“Keep a sharp-eyed vigil. I don’t like landing without a large security detail to guard our fighters,” Jeff reminded his wingman.
“Understood Jeff,” the wingman responded.
Glancing up at the three remaining fighters flying cover, Jeff knew it would be suicide for anyone to attempt to take the grounded fighters. However, leaving them unattended for even minutes was a risk and he didn’t like taking risks with grounded fighters.
By the time that Jeff made it to the boat, his men were tending the man inside who was slowly sipping water. One of the men said, “Jeff, this man says he is from Cuba and he left his country to escape the invaders there. He wants to warn Americans. Cuba was invaded as a staging ground for the coming invasion of the gulf states by an outlaw faction.”
The man sipping the water screwed the cap back on the bottle and said in slightly accented English, “My name is Ramon Marino. Before the world went insane, I was a junior Cuban diplomat to the United Nations. I must speak to your leaders and warn them of the imminent invasion of the United States. The enemy will attack with a disease, which spreads through the population killing everyone who contracts the disease. They are planning to unleash this disease and then they will move in to conquer any remaining resistance.”
***
Five hours after the flight leader towed the boat ashore, the Peacekeeper landed on the beach beside the five, grounded fighters. The Cuban and the five pilots, who had been exposed to him, were all to be quarantined until Maggie had completed her blood test on the Cuban to ensure that he was not carrying the disease. Two separate canopies were set up to keep the Cuban separated from the pilots who had been ordered to minimize contact with the man. If he had the disease, it was possible that none of the men had contracted it yet, therefore the segregation of the six men was essential. The pilots were sternly warned to spread out in their shelter and under no circumstances to touch each other or anything that another pilot had touched. Maggie and Pol, wearing protective gear, then took a blood sample from the Cuban who cooperated fully. He understood the need for precaution. His clothing and all gear aboard his boat were confiscated and gone over by a security team also wearing protective gear. They found nothing that was obvious. Within two hours of their arrival, Maggie gave the all clear. There was no sign of the disease in Ramon’s blood sample. The six men were released from quarantine.
The council thanked flight leader Jeff Brown for his proper handling of the situation and suggested that he remain for the meeting with Ramon. That meeting followed within minutes of the meeting and debriefing of Jeff Brown.
Ramon Marino was escorted into the battleship module mess hall for the meeting with the peacekeeper council. As he made his way through the ship, the Cuban stared in awe at his surroundings. After the introductions, the duty cook served a light meal of sandwiches, for which both the flight leader and their visitor expressed their thanks.
While they ate, Jim studied the Cuban. He estimated that the man was about five foot eight. He had black hair and brown eyes. His skin was an olive color and he was sporting a few days growth of beard, leading Jim to suspect that he was normally a clean-shaven man. He looked to weigh in at about one hundred sixty pounds and appeared to be in moderately good shape despite his recent ordeal.
When the meal was finished, Pete asked Ramon to tell them everything. Ramon began by explaining that the pre-disaster Cuba of the past was gone. A portion of the island had sunk beneath the sea because of the massive earthquakes. Yet most of the island remained. The roads and infrastructure were a mess.
The government had totally collapsed and life on Cuba had reverted to a more primitive lifestyle. Then, six months ago, a disease had begun to spread like wildfire across the island. He then described the deadly disease and related what he knew of the illness. He described it so vividly that Maggie nodded her head in recognition. The disease was the same one that had devastated Louisiana, months ago. Ramon had explained that although there was no way to know with certainty, he suspected that the disease had killed three quarters of the Cubans who had survived the natural disasters.
When Ramon continued, there was a pained expression on his face as he described the invasion of Cuba by a large armada of ships of all shapes and classes. “They came ashore unchallenged,” he admitted. “There weren’t many Cubans left to fight them,” he stated calmly but with a note of profound sadness.
“What nationality are the invaders?” Jim asked the Cuban.
“It is my understanding that they do not serve under one flag and are not composed of one nationality, but of many,” Ramon explained. He added that in the wake of the disasters, most of the South American governments were severely weakened or entirely collapsed. The invaders seemed to be an army of thugs from several of the northern countries of South America. He further added that a strong drug cartel was at the heart of the organization and that drug use was prevalent among the men of that invasion force.
Then Ramon’s expression grew very sad and he explained, “This is early June. You have a few months to prepare. I learned recently that the invaders mean to send several ships loaded with my countrymen to America in late August. Those men, women, and children will be deliberately exposed to the same disease, which devastated my country, in the hopes that they will infect Americans. If they can accomplish this, then they will weaken your ability to resist the invasion which will follow in a month.”