by Summer Lane
Breathe. Breathe. Be calm, control yourself.
I close my eyes, stand up, and walk again. I come to a house that sits on the edge of the main drag, once someone’s private vacation abode, now our HQ because of the destruction of the communications center.
It is a two-story house, neatly manicured with bushes and plants. Trees shroud the structure the road – from the sky, even. I walk through the front door, smelling coffee and gunpowder.
The living room is directly to the right. It’s a huge room, filled with nothing but chairs. A projector is flashing images onto a blank spot in the room. Commander Miller and Admiral Boyd are sitting next to each other – each smoking a cigarette.
When I step into the room, the voices cease. The talking stops. Manny, Vera, Andrew, Elle, Cheng, Devin, Em, and even Bravo stand up. Uriah is here, in the corner of the room. He slowly rises, offering a salute.
A cohesive display of sympathy – of respect for a man we all loved.
A man we have all lost.
I can’t do this. I can’t go on.
And then there is the president, his face ashen and solemn.
I have to go on.
“Commander Hart,” he says, approaching me first. He offers his hand. I take it, my calloused fingers swallowed up in his fist. “I am so sorry. I want to offer my deepest condolences. If there’s anything I can do for you…name it. Consider it done.”
I look into his eyes – bloodshot, weary.
“Thank you,” I reply.
And then I withdraw my hand and take a step back.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say quietly.
The silence is heavy as I take a seat next to Vera.
“Now that we’re all here,” Commander Miller says, taking the center of the room, “we can begin. Let’s talk stats: over 200 casualties from last night’s attack. The conspirators killed themselves, so we have no one to question-”
“They didn’t all kill themselves,” Manny offers. “Cassidy dropped one.”
“Right,” Commander Miller replies, frowning. “As I was saying, there are no conspirators left to interrogate, so we’re left in the dark once again…how Omega infected the ranks of the soldiers here, I have no idea-”
“I think it’s pretty clear that it wasn’t militiamen from Camp Cambria,” Devin offers. He is pale, sick-looking. I remember his friendship with Chris. They were like brothers. This can’t be any easier on him than it is on me… “The Omega hacks came in with President Banner’s troops from Sector 13. Clearly, this was an inside job.”
“Clearly,” Admiral Boyd growls, “this was an attempt to assassinate the president. They blew up the communications center. Luckily, the President was at the alehouse at the time. Their mission failed.”
“You need to face reality, then,” Vera pipes up. “Somebody inside Sector 13 – and inside the Locke Initiative – has been waiting for you to deploy the troops and betray your location so that they could assassinate you.”
President Banner swallows. “I’m afraid so,” he agrees.
“So now what?” Elle asks. “What are we supposed to do? How do we know that half of the troops you’ve brought here aren’t here to kill you – and all of us?” She glares at the president. “No disrespect, sir, but maybe you should have thought this through before you greenlit the deployment of the troops in Sector 13. You’ve put all your eggs in one basket. Omega probably already knows what’s happening here – and they certainly know that you’re alive by now.”
“They’re going to come for you,” Uriah says darkly. “They’re going to come for all of us.”
“They always do,” Cheng answers, slinging his arm on the back of Elle’s chair. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that my mother, Veronica, would love to see the President of the United States dead. She would gladly eliminate any chance of government forming again here in this country.”
I think of the thousands of troops deployed from Sector 13. How many of them are Omega hacks – and have been since the beginning, waiting for the president to give the command to deploy, to reveal his location?
God, Omega is a virus, infecting everything.
“Athena Strike is only five weeks away,” Cheng reminds us. “We have to decide – are we going to stand and fight the foot soldiers? Are we going to retreat and live in hiding? Or are we going to use the threat of nuclear weapons to stop them?”
The question hangs in the air, and I see Lani and Haku walk into the room. I haven’t crossed paths with them in a couple of days. When Lani’s gaze lands on me, she places two fingers to her lips and nods.
I’m sorry, she mouths.
I look away.
“We have but one choice,” President Banner exclaims, rising slowly from his seat. “We must use the weapons in our possession against the enemy. If we do not – this will never be truly over. We have to eliminate the problem at the root – kill the body, not just one of its many heads. The time has come.”
“So we set up negotiations with Chancellor Klaus,” Em suggests.
“No. We take immediate action. We destroy their base of operations,” President Banner replies. “We will strike Olympus – the heart and lifeblood of the entire Omega global coalition. Most of the Omega leadership is concentrated there – its chancellors and district prefects, its generals…they’re all at Olympus. It’s in Beijing.”
“You’re suggesting that we wipe out Beijing without even trying to negotiate with Klaus and the rest of the Omega leadership?” Manny exclaims, shaking his head. “Are you bloody insane, Mr. President?”
“I am not, I assure you, sir,” President Banner answers, obviously irritated with Manny. “We will waste thousands of troops on fighting a massive Omega front. And we will lose. Their troop supply is unlimited. Ours is finite. They’ll waste thousands – if not millions – of bodies just to kill all of us. And then they’ll really destroy us.”
He has a point.
“President Banner,” I say. My voice is hoarse, and I know I sound as bad as I look. “Is there someone other than Veronica Klaus that we could set up negotiations with? She’s the face of the Omega forces on the western hemisphere – we know that. But who does she answer to? Can we go over her head? You must know.”
“Chancellor Klaus is the woman you would want to meet with,” President Banner admits. “But it will do you no good. The woman has her orders – destruction of California, no matter what threats are made by the militia. Negotiations will not stop Omega. It’s too late. Veronica answers to the Table, the global superpowers who control every move Omega makes.”
“We can’t just fire nuclear weapons at China,” I grit. “We could start a global nuclear war. The planet would be destroyed, the atmosphere would be ruined – there would be nothing left.”
“Nuclear war is something Omega fears,” President Banner insists. “They will cease fire – they will negotiate. But only after we have destroyed Olympus.”
“You’re wrong.” I stand up, facing down President Banner. He’s a good foot taller than me – but I don’t care. “We pull the trigger once, and Omega never stops pulling the trigger after that. You’ll unleash something a lot worse than the Athena Strike.”
“It’s the only option we have left,” President Banner says, his eyes moving to everyone else in the room, pleading. “You have to listen to me, I’m begging you to. I have the sole discretionary power to give a launch command on nuclear weapons right now – but I don’t want to do that without the full support of the remaining militia leadership in this room. I’m asking you to see reason.”
I wince, remembering once again the sting of martial law.
There’s literally nothing stopping him from firing any weapons he wants. He has seized control of everything, and Admiral Boyd and his weapons answer directly to the president.
“No,” I say, firmly. “I can’t get behind this, and neither will anyone else in this room. We risked our lives to retrieve those nuclear weapons from Ohana Base so that we co
uld have leverage against Omega…so that we could bring something to a negotiating table, so that we could stall them, force them to pull out. We didn’t retrieve them so that we could mess around and play target practice with Earth.”
Anger flashes in President Banner’s eyes – he turns away and gestures to the projector image on the wall. There are cycling aerial photos of Washington, D.C., New York City, Florida, Massachusetts, and more. Nothing but flat, blackened expanses of rubble, ruined skyscrapers reaching like skeletal insects toward the sky.
“What are the rules of engagement?” President Banner demands.
Silence.
“I said, what are the rules of engagement in combat?” he shouts.
“Do not fire unless fired upon,” I reply steadily.
“We were fired upon long ago,” he says. “It’s time to strike back.”
“You’re right that it’s time to strike back,” I say. “But this could destroy us. Don’t do this. Please.”
There is a twinge of desperation in my voice. I can’t believe I am fighting for this…I sound like Chris, asking for the most diplomatic solution before we jump into a firefight. Maybe it’s because I have seen too much.
Maybe it’s because I know better now.
President Banner shakes his head, taking a seat.
I can see it on his face: he has already made up his mind. Our next move will be his move – not ours.
“The rest of the existing state militia leaders have been notified of President Banner’s return,” Admiral Boyd says, gravely. “Sector 13 has sent messengers out to twenty-three states. I have the list here…” he holds up a piece of paper. “Militia leaders from all twenty-three states will be convening at a conference here on the Pacific Coast within the next few weeks to discuss the future of the country with the president, and to unify the state militias into a single coalition.”
“I’m assuming we’re on that list,” Vera snaps.
“Of course you are,” President Banner sighs. “I am not your enemy, my friends. I am simply making the hard decision that nobody else wants to make.”
“How dare you!” I cry, slamming my fists on the table. “We make hard decisions every damn day! This isn’t you making a hard decision – this is you taking control and refusing to listen to the opinions of anyone else!” I whirl away, walking halfway across the room, then turning back to the president.
I understand now what we are dealing with.
I see that President Banner has considered all of the options – and that he truly, deeply believes that this is the right thing to do.
I cannot fault him for his conviction, but I can certainly stop him.
“What if I make you a deal?” I say, forcing my body to calm, my voice to drop in pitch. “What if I told you, that in return for doing this our way, I will take a team, and I will carry out a rescue operation to retrieve your wife and daughter from Omega?”
President Banner stares at me.
“Are you…serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking to you?” I retort.
“No. I just…you would really do that?”
“Yes,” I reply. “I would.”
He runs a hand through his hair. I exchange glances with Uriah.
He nods.
Yes, he knows I’ve struck a chord – I’ve found a bargaining chip.
“You’re serious, Commander?” President Banner asks.
“Of course I am.”
He bows his head.
“Yes,” he says, bewildered. There are tears in his eyes. “I will agree to those terms…however, I have a stipulation.”
It’s never easy…
“And what might that be?” Uriah mutters.
“Four weeks,” he says. “I’ll give you four weeks to find them – to bring them back alive. That’s all the time I can give you.”
I reply, “Fair enough.”
“If you fail, we will revert to my original plan.”
“Okay.”
“Commander Hart,” he says, frowning, “I pray to God you’re successful.”
“You’d better,” I answer. “Because you need us to survive if you’re going to.”
I tip my head respectfully, and then I leave.
I stand outside the house for a moment – aware that I have just committed myself to carrying out an impossible operation, my only bargaining chip in a power play with the president, a virtual dictator under this martial law mess. I don’t think Saul Banner is a bad guy…I just think he’s a desperate one. Someone who doesn’t understand just how hard we’ve fought to get where we are.
How would he know? He’s been hiding this whole time.
“Cassidy,” Uriah says.
He steps up beside me, watching my face.
“That was smart thinking,” he goes on.
“It was the only way,” I reply.
“Now all we have to do is find the first lady and his daughter,” he goes on, half-joking. “That should be a cakewalk, right?”
“Of course.”
He steps closer.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
“I’m fine,” I lie. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, but-”
“We have to figure this operation out. Assemble a team,” I interrupt. “We need details and specifics from the president.”
“Yeah. If we’re lucky we’ll be back from the mission in time to meet with the rest of the militia leaders at the convention on the coast,” Uriah replies.
“If we survive that long,” I mutter.
We leave the house behind, and I feel the cold touch of the wind on my cheeks.
You did good, I can hear Chris telling me. You were calm. You made the right call.
Tears come to my eyes, and I blink them away.
I have got to pull myself together.
I won’t make it out of the next few weeks alive if I can’t focus.
“I’m here for you,” Uriah says quietly.
I look straight ahead, past the charred remains of the medical building.
“I know,” I answer. “You always have been.”
***
The weight of the mission is heavy on my mind.
I sit on the edge of a wooden pier, a long dock that extends into the Pacific Ocean. It is dark in Cambria, the only light from the moon and stars. It’s all I need. It’s a surprisingly clear evening; the first clear night since we arrived.
I dangle my legs over the water below, listening to the sound of the churning waves as they swirl around the dock posts, hit the shoreline, and get sucked back into the dark abyss of the sea.
What am I supposed to do without you, Chris? I think. It’s not supposed to be like this.
Again, the tears. Is it normal to cry this much? I guess so. When someone you love dies, you’re allowed to cry all you want. But I know I have to keep it together – I have to be on my A-game to pull this rescue operation off for the president.
Nothing can be allowed to stop me.
Just give up, I think. You don’t have any commitments to anyone. You can sink into the shadows – hell, you’ve done your part! You’ve given enough. Get out of the fight while you can, before you end up dead, too.
It’s an attractive prospect.
But I cannot – if only because I know Chris would be disappointed if I gave up, and I will honor his memory with every fiber of my being for as long as I live.
I snap my head up, suddenly aware of another presence here.
“Come out,” I say, raising my handgun.
“It’s just me.” Elle Costas steps out of the darkness, Bravo with her. Both of them, mere shadows. “Sorry. Didn’t mean scare you.”
“Trust me,” I reply. “You didn’t.”
She sits beside me. Bravo sits between us, his tongue lolling merrily from his mouth.
“Hey, Bravo,” I whisper, scratching him behind the ears. “How are you doing, boy?”
“He’s good,” Elle answers. “He’s steady, y
ou know? He’s had a lot of people die on him, too. We all have.”
“Elle,” I say, swallowing. “I appreciate you being here, but I’d rather be alone.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.” Elle sighs. “When my family was killed in Los Angeles, I closed myself off to everything. To everyone. I didn’t really open up again until Bravo. He saved me, to be honest. I owe him everything.”
“He’s a true friend,” I remark.
“He is. And Commander, I’ve been where you’ve been.” She leans closer. “I know I’m younger than you are – but not by much. Not really. I know how it feels to lose the person you love more than anything. It hurts – bad. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of my mom, or my dad, or my brother…or anybody I’ve known and cared about. But the best I can do to keep going is to fight, to honor their memory. It makes it easier, somehow. I fight because I loved. Right now, you’re going to try to forget Chris…we all are. Because it hurts. I promise you, there will come a day when it won’t hurt so much anymore. It will be a memory. A good memory. Part of what makes you who you are.”
I grip the edge of the dock, and then I take Elle’s hand.
I squeeze it.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
We stay there for a long while. Me, the girl, and the dog.
“So…” she says. “Who are you going to take with you on this crazy rescue operation?”
“Whoever I can get,” I answer. It’s only half of a joke.
“You know I’m totally in.”
“I know.”
“And so is everyone else. We’re in this together.”
“That’s why we can do the impossible.” I sigh. “Chris trained us well.”
“I’ll miss him, too,” she whispers.
She leans her head against my chest and we embrace each other – sisters in warfare, friends, comrades.
I close my eyes and I think, Thank you, Chris, for bringing us all together.
Even in death, you’re keeping us alive.
Chapter Seven
“I see you better than most people see you,” Sophia said, settling down in the dirt next to me.
The day was hot – we were sweating, exhausted from extensive training here in the foothills, practicing guerilla warfare techniques. I was getting better, and not only that…I was faster than the others, even the men. I was shooting better, thinking quicker, acting decisively.