Several pages ripped from a route atlas lay on the table as Arnold, Janice, Corporal DiSanto and Paulie joined Solly in waiting for Scott to get the meeting started.
"Khaled told us that the Reaper fabrication plant has been built at Newark Liberty International and it's from there that the drones will be distributed around the country in time for the second wave."
"Do we have any idea when that will happen?" Paulie asked.
"No. At the moment, the Lee Corporation seems content to maintain control in New York and Seattle as well as Washington DC, though recent events have disrupted that part of the plan."
"Well, having seen one of these drones at first hand, I can tell you that we have no chance of stopping them once they're operational. They're absolutely deadly."
Scott nodded. "It may well be that the one you encountered was a prototype. The final model will be even more powerful. But I suspect they will deploy the Reapers as they're manufactured, concentrating them in the specific areas they wish to take control of and then tightening the noose."
"DC will be their first target," Solly said. "They may have enough firepower to overwhelm General Bevan's forces as it is, but with the Reapers they'll be unstoppable."
Corporal DiSanto cleared his throat. "So, is it my understanding that we are to put together a task force to destroy this facility?"
"Yes, Corporal, that's it exactly. Will you help us?"
DiSanto scratched his chin as he examined the map. "That's got to be two hundred and fifty miles from here, along roads of unknown status. As we swing north of DC, there'll be walkers on the road and when we get near to New York, we'll probably run into Lee Corporation forces."
"Could you take the back roads?" Arnold said.
"That'll bring its own problems," DiSanto responded, leaning in close to the map and tracing possible routes with his finger. "Small roads are easier to blockade and there are bound to be local bandits."
Scott shook his head. "So, what's the answer? We have to try."
"There's another issue," Janice said. "How do you propose to destroy the factory?"
Silence fell. It was all very well knowing what had to be done, but that didn't mean doing it was going to be practical or even possible.
Scott thumped the table. "We've got to do it! Do you understand? Otherwise, the next visitors to the farm might be floating black drones armed with machine guns and missiles. We need to buy ourselves time to work out how to take on the Lee Corporation."
"And to give DC a chance against them," Solly added. "But if we can't get to the factory and have no way to destroy it even if we reached it, then I don't know where we go from here."
"I might be able to help with that," Corporal DiSanto said. "It seems to me that we need more firepower, and I know where we can get it."
"Where?" Lee said.
"Wright-Patterson," DiSanto answered. "If you explain the plan to Colonel McBride, I reckon he might be prepared to contribute a couple of Humvees and some plastic explosives. Can't guarantee it, but it seems like your best shot."
"But that'll mean a delay," Scott said.
DiSanto nodded. "Of a few days, sure. That's if he agrees."
Scott shook his head. "We can't wait around to find out."
"Well," Solly said, "if you've got an alternative, I'm all ears. I'll go with the corporal and talk to McBride."
Paulie spoke for the first time. "It's okay, Solly, you stay here. I'll go."
"Why?"
"Because it's on our way," she said. "We're going home; Luna, Marvin and me. I'm sheriff of Arbroath and that's where I should be."
General Bevan walked into the Oval Office and sat down opposite the president. Many times he'd been here, and many times he'd imagined being on the other side of the desk. Today, however, he didn't want her job. He didn't really want his own. But, for all his legendary inflexibility, Bevan prided himself on having two good qualities—he was a man of his word and he never, ever, gave up a difficult assignment.
"They're moving, Madam President. As predicted, they have cut off access to the welcome camps to the north and east of the city and are sending the refugees our way."
President Blaise nodded grimly. "They want to overwhelm us, turn us into a seething mass of humanity and then fling a match into the middle in the hope our own people will revolt and overthrow us."
"Indeed. It seems your evaluation of their true military potential, at least as it stands at the moment, was accurate. They put on a good show, but it's always planned. The truth is they're scattered thin, so they're using insurrection rather than invasion."
"So, our only options are to turn people away, having called them to DC in the first place, or to try to accommodate them, having lost our main supply line through the Lee Corporation, and face possible civil war."
General Bevan shook his head. "We can't prevent people getting in, even if we wanted to. We've relied so far on the good will of citizens to behave themselves and wait patiently for their assignments. If word gets around that we're not going to let them in, then we'll have a whole mess of trouble on our hands."
"Is that a military term, General?" Blaise said with a rueful smile.
"It might as well be. We're going to have to think on our feet, Madam President. The old policies and procedures won't serve us any longer. We can house people easily enough, but we need to find a way to feed, water and care for them before our new federal government is drowned at birth."
Blaise sighed and leaned back. "Time to look for a miracle, General."
Chapter 17
A week later, two Humvees rolled into the lane leading up to the farmhouse. Solly had spent the intervening days helping to prepare the communities for the planting season. While he'd been crossing the continent with Ross, Jaxon had been cataloging the farms along the banks of Conococheague Creek under the direction of Janice and Arnold, so the farmhouse barn and now the one at the Fordhams’ were bulging at the seams with hay and sacks of grain. None of them had any experience of farming, but a raid on the library in Hagerstown, supervised by Miss Prism, had resulted in several books on the subject, so they'd been able to make basic plans.
It had been a blessed time for Solly. Six months ago, the prospect of spending hours helping to clear fields or move sacks from one place to another would have filled him with horror. Now, with all that had happened, and all that had yet to take place, he enjoyed the simple pleasure of exhausting himself with manual labor. All the while waiting for the rumble of tires on the gravel lane. The single sour note had been the departure of Paulie with her daughter and big Marvin Tucker. Solly had gotten used to her being around, and she'd shown herself to be brave, intelligent and resourceful. And someone he could rely on. But he understood why she was desperate to head west again to her own community.
He was in the barn when DiSanto returned, so he couldn't pretend not to have noticed. Two Humvees rolled up in front of the house as he jogged across. The lead one had a machine gun mounted on top and the corporal was pointing up to it as the vehicle was surrounded by kids, Jaxon at the front.
"M134 minigun," he was saying. "Three thousand rounds a minute. Scares the bejesus out of the enemy, I can tell you. Hey, Solly!"
He put out his hand, evidently pleased with himself. "The colonel let us have an armored Humvee. Mind you," he added, a little coyly, "we've only got about five hundred rounds, so we're goin' to have to be mighty careful with it!"
The second Humvee was purely a transport model and looked as though it had been brought out of retirement. Its olive green and brown camouflage paint was flaking in places and the lower half of the body was pock marked with rust. It took Solly a moment to place the man standing beside it.
"Kuchinsky!"
"Solly, good to see you," Kuchinsky said. He hadn't changed at all since they'd last seen him at Wright-Patterson on the day of the Lee Corporation attack on the base. Except that he now wore three stripes on his arm. "Sergeant Kuchinsky now. I think it amused the colonel to p
ut me in charge of this expedition. I reckon he still blames me for that raid. We're only just getting fully back to normal."
"It wasn't your fault, Joe," Solly said.
"Well, it was because I could've left you by the road once we'd chased off those bandits. It would've saved a whole heap of trouble."
Solly shrugged. "Well, at least you're going to get to strike back at them, and see a bit of the country."
"Sure. And I know Newark pretty well, so I was the only choice really, I suppose."
Solly looked beyond the Humvee. "It's just the two of you?"
"Yeah, afraid so. DiSanto's authorized to bring along one of his grunts, but the rest of the raiding party has to come from your people. How many able-bodied do you have here?"
Solly gestured at the crowd. "We're mainly kids, Joe. But we'll worry about that tomorrow. Come on inside."
"Say, Solly. Where's the lad who was with you? Ross, wasn't it? Is he still…"
"Alive? Yes, but he's been injured. Let's go see him."
"Why does it always have to be you, Sol? Haven't you earned a rest?"
Janice lay huddled up to Solly's back with her right arm around his chest.
"I thought so, but McBride chose to send us equipment rather than manpower. If we're to have any chance of making it into Newark, we need to cover over two hundred miles safely. You saw what the roads were like when we escaped from New York. Well they're a lot worse now. I mean, they're probably clear of wreckage, but that makes them all the more dangerous if there aren't enough of us to fight off attack."
Solly rolled onto his back and took her in his arms, relishing the warmth of skin on skin. "Look, I don't want to go. I'm sick of having to leave, even if the homecoming is something to look forward to."
Janice leaned up and kissed him. "Well, you won't have to miss anything because I'm coming with you."
"No you're not!" Solly snapped, pushing himself up against the headboard.
"Who are you to tell me what I can or can't do?"
"I'm your…I'm your…"
"You're my partner, my boyfriend, and probably my soul-mate. But none of those, Solly Masters, gives you the right to decide where I go."
Solly let out a deep sigh. "Look, Janice…"
"Don't you dare use that patronizing tone with me!" she snapped. "And don't tell me you won't be able to do your job if you're worrying about me. I'm not some piece of precious jewelry you store somewhere safe and call for when you want it."
"But it's true. How am I supposed to focus on the mission if you're there?"
Janice pulled herself up so that she sat beside him, the blanket gathered around her. "You said that we're short of manpower for the raid, didn't you?"
"Yes, I suppose so."
"And I assume you weren't being sexist. After all, you're planning to take Becky the medic."
Solly felt the trap springing shut. "Right."
"So I'm coming. Unless you think I'm not capable of being useful? I've learned a lot since you and Ross disappeared to cross the country."
He could either admit that he didn't, in fact, think she was particularly equipped to be on the mission or he could continue to enjoy a delightful last night with his girlfriend. "Of course you're capable," he muttered.
"Good, then I'm coming. I'm fed up of being the little woman left back at the ranch while the menfolk go and see off the bad guys," she reached up, pulled his face to her and kissed him again.
Snap.
They left the next day, heading north on the 81 toward Harrissburg with the aim of getting over the Susquehanna River by noon. Corporal DiSanto drove the lead Humvee with its machine gun and payload of plastic explosives and supplies. Private Adeyemi went with him to act as co-driver and gunner, along with two others.
Bobby's sister Vivian, recovered from the flu that had almost killed her, had insisted on coming, and Solly felt no more justified in refusing her than he had with Janice. Becky Epstein, on the other hand, had been strongarmed into coming as their medic. She'd turned up late and had brought a cloud of cigarette smoke into the oily interior of the old Humvee when she jumped in.
The second Humvee was driven by Sergeant Kuchinsky. Solly, Janice, and Scott went with him. Kuchinsky had made it quite clear that he was in overall command of the mission but that Solly was responsible for the civilian contingent—their selection and their behavior. This hadn't gone down well with Scott Lee, but he'd subsided in the face of Kuchinsky's complete indifference to his opinion.
The basic plan had seemed straightforward enough when they'd discussed it the previous night. The Humvees would be used to get them within walking distance of the factory, but it was then going to be a matter of creeping into the airport somehow, working out where to place the explosives, detonating them and getting out again without being caught. Solly looked at each of them as he explained it again and saw in their eyes grim determination in the face of what looked like a hopeless mission.
"Our target is the silicon fabrication plant," Scott said. "There's no point destroying the bodies—we need to go after their ability to build the motherboards and CPUs, the brains. Knock that out and we'll put a halt to the Reapers. For a time."
"How long?" Vivian asked.
Scott shrugged. "I don't know. Months, at least. Maybe a year. Lee Corp has always had a chip manufactory in New York, so they may have moved it to the airport since the Long Night and destroying it would cripple them. If, on the other hand, they've somehow constructed it more recently, then they'd be able to make a replacement. I don't think so, however. I think taking out that plant would deal them a hell of a blow."
"But if it's so important, it'll be guarded, won't it?" Janice said.
"Of course. Neutralizing the security forces without bringing the whole Lee organization down on top of us is going to be the toughest part."
Epstein snorted. "You don't make killing people any more palatable by hiding the act behind a word like 'neutralizing'. Say it like it is, murder."
"It's either them or us," Lee said. "And not just us, but every other survivor of the Long Night. We're not playing for sport, you know. This is about the life or death, freedom or slavery of the human race."
Becky Epstein treated him to a look of the deepest loathing, but said no more. And she certainly hadn't complained at being assigned to the lead Humvee.
Now, Scott was sitting up front with Kuchinsky. Solly and Janice were strapped into the rear seats, each silently watching the miles roll by. Long sections of road had been cleared completely but every now and again they came to a halt, usually where cars had been pushed together to form a barrier. Some of these had clearly been abandoned, but at others they found food packs and even, in one case, a fire in a bucket that still had a kettle hanging above it. The Humvees and, in particular, the machine gun carried by DiSanto's vehicle, frightened off would-be attackers and they had no trouble using the winch on Kuchinsky's Humvee to drag cars apart while DiSanto covered them.
These stops slowed them up so that it was midafternoon by the time they reached Harrisburg. The bridge over the wide river was clear of all traffic and they'd almost made it to the other side when the lead Humvee came to a sudden halt and DiSanto got out. Kuchinsky pulled up beside him and rolled down the window.
"There's a blockade across the road," he said. "Looks like they've got military vehicles. Reckon they might like the idea of adding a couple of Humvees to their collection."
Kuchinsky cursed. "We'll back up and find a way around."
"Hold on," Janice said, pointing ahead. "Someone's coming."
A figure carrying a white flag on a pole was walking along the road toward them. "Solly, you're with me," Kuchinsky said as he opened the door. "DiSanto, get up top and keep us covered."
The man was dressed in combat fatigues and certainly carried himself like a soldier. He stopped ten paces way and waited for a moment.
"Has the Army degraded so much that a sergeant fails to acknowledge an officer?"
He was a neat man with gray hair just visible beneath the base of his camouflage cap.
Instinctively, it seemed, Kuchinsky snapped a salute. "Sergeant Joseph Kuchinsky, sir."
The man returned the salute smartly. "Captain Sanders of the Pennsylvania National Guard. I could tell you my battalion and regiment, but none of that means anything anymore. Where are you from, Sergeant?"
"Wright-Patterson Air Force Base under the command of Colonel McBride, sir. We're acting on the colonel's instructions."
"Wright-Patterson is still functional? Good," Sanders said. "And who is this?"
"My name is Solly Masters."
"He is a mission specialist, sir," Kuchinsky said.
Sanders nodded and rubbed his chin. "You are, of course, free to proceed, but I would welcome the opportunity to compare notes. You are the first military we've seen other than our own."
"I'd be glad to have a brief stop, sir," Kuchinsky said.
"Then please ask your man up there to swing the minigun in another direction, he looks agitated."
They turned off the interstate and into Harrisburg. The roads were clear and people could be seen walking and driving through the city. It was almost possible to imagine that it was a particularly quiet Sunday and that the Long Night had never happened. They followed Sanders into the parking lot of the community college, a sprawling campus turned olive green with military vehicles and uniforms. Solly hadn't seen this many people in Army uniforms since Wright-Patterson.
Before the colonel could join them, Kuchinsky ran across to DiSanto and the two huddled together before separating with a nod.
"I've told Jason to stay with the vehicles with Adeyemi. They're to stay inside and to leave if they feel endangered. I've agreed on a rendezvous point in case of emergency," Kuchinsky whispered to Solly.
"Surely you trust Sanders?" Solly responded as the captain got out of his car.
The Long Night Box Set Page 62