“Bonuses?” Montgomery asked.
“Yes, we need to incentivize them. At the moment we cannot offer pay. But soon we will have things of value.”
“What will that be, sir?”
“Gold and land,” Barone said.
“Really?”
“Yes, that will be our plan for payment for their loyalty. We will find gold and we have land back at Camp Pendleton that we will give to those who join our cause. We will give each a house and an acre of land.”
“How the hell can we do that?” Montgomery asked.
“Mr. Montgomery, we can do anything we want right now, we are Marines and we have three thousand plus well-armed fighting men who want to get home and want to know they will be taken care of. We will figure out the land issue later and the gold will come.”
All men at the table were looking at one another.
Ashley asked, “Sir, what is our objective in going to Diego Garcia? I have to assume it’s more than just dropping off those who do not support us. It’s a risky operation, you must know that.”
“Gentlemen, in order for any army or navy to operate we must have food, water, fuel, and supplies. Diego Garcia has all of them, plus the Second Squadron of MPS ships are there. We need those ships and we will take those ships.”
All the men in the room nodded.
“Smart move, sir,” Major Ashley said, still nodding.
“From there we’ll head back north and cut through the Strait of Malacca toward the western Pacific.”
“Will we stop in Hawaii, sir?”
“Not a chance. That would be a bad move. By then the word will be out that we have mutinied. I don’t want to engage in combat operations against fellow Americans. That’s something I wish to avoid at all costs. All I want is to go back home, defend our families, and help rebuild.”
“So then the plan is after we hit Diego Garcia is to head nonstop for San Diego.”
“Correct. That is the plan, but as usual plans can change and we need to be flexible.” Barone looked around the table and asked, “Is that all, gentlemen?”
“Sir, what are we calling this mission?” asked Ashley.
Barone sat for a second, then responded, “We will call it Operation Homestead.”
Dade County, Florida
Conner could see why so many people moved and retired in Florida. The weather was perfect; it was December and the temperature was in the mid-seventies. The convoy of jeeps pulled up to the front gate of Governor Cruz’s house. Conner jumped out of the jeep and walked up to the gate. He was met by two guards.
“May we help you, sir?” one of the guards asked.
“Yes you can, I need to speak to Governor Cruz immediately,” Conner said, standing there alone with his convoy behind him.
“Sir, may I ask who wishes to see him?” the guard asked, looking over Conner’s shoulder at the small convoy of jeeps with armed soldiers and plainclothes men accompanying this stranger.
“Tell him it’s Brad Conner and that it’s a matter of national security.”
“One minute, sir,” the guard said. He backed away from the gate and approached his colleague. They whispered to each other before one of them started to walk briskly back toward the house.
Dylan stepped forward and handed Conner a binder and said, “Mr. President, what else should I bring with us for the meeting?”
“Nothing, Dylan, I won’t need anything and I’ll go by myself. This needs to be a private meeting. I’ve known Andrew since college and the best way to get through to him is to have us talk privately.”
“Yes, sir,” Dylan responded and walked away from Conner.
Conner walked back and forth in front of the gate, thinking about what he would say to Andrew. They had met each other in graduate school at the University of Iowa. They both were pursuing their master’s degrees in American history. They both instantly clicked and spent a lot of time together. Not only did they share the same views on politics, they shared the same interest in sports and good beer. After grad school, they both found themselves successfully entering politics, with Andrew ascending to the governor’s office for two terms in Florida. Andrew had been term-limited out of office and had since been spending his time writing his memoirs. If he could convince Andrew to become his VP, he would have a trusted ally and friend to help lead and rebuild the country.
Conner’s thoughts were interrupted with seeing Andrew walking down the driveway along with one of the guards.
Andrew Cruz was the same age as Brad Conner, in fact they were only months apart. Andrew was of average height and very slender. While Brad did not take good care of himself physically, Andrew made running a daily part of his lifestyle. His hair was black and full, his eyes brown and his skin an olive tone which hearkened back to his Cuban ancestry.
“Open the gate,” Andrew ordered.
Both guards manually opened the gate and Andrew stepped through and gave Conner a big hug.
“When my guard told me that you were at my front gate, I was who? Brad, what are you doing here? What’s going on?” Andrew said after embracing his old friend.
“Andrew, it’s good seeing you, especially with all that’s happening. Can we go somewhere private and talk?”
“Absolutely, follow me,” Andrew said, motioning Conner to follow him inside the gate.
“So how is the family, Brad?”
“Not good; my son Bobby is dead.”
Andrew stopped walking and responded to the shocking news. “What? Oh my God, Brad, I’m so sorry. How did it happen?
Conner had also stopped; he was looking down at the ground. The loss of his son was visible on his face when he looked up. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice cracked.
“Brad, come over here, sit down,” Andrew motioned to a bench in a garden.
“No, not necessary,” Conner said, forcing the words to come out. He cleared his throat and said, “Andrew, there’s been a couple of major attacks against the United States.”
“Yes, I had been watching the news until all the power went out yesterday.”
“No, Andrew not those small car bombings or mall shootings; someone has detonated an EMP bomb over the U.S. They also detonated a nuclear weapon in Washington, D.C.,” Conner said, his face now clear of the pain from his son’s death.
“What?” Andrew asked with shock on his face.
“The president, vice president and all of Congress is gone. We have not been able to get on the ground in D.C. to get a confirmed report, but our aerial photos show the city leveled. If someone has survived, they’d be lucky.”
Andrew was in total shock. He walked away from Conner to the bench he had pointed at earlier and sat down.
“Andrew, I’m here because I am now the new president and I need a vice president. I need someone I can trust, someone who thinks like I do but also has a good head on their shoulders. I need you right now. Your country needs you right now. We need to get this country back up.”
“Brad, this is unbelievable. So the lights are out because of the EMP burst?”
“Yes, it appears to have been a super EMP, because its effect is continent wide. It’s really bad, Andrew; the entire power grid across the country is down, and whoever did this to us also attacked Europe and Asia. Australia managed to thwart the attack.”
“Brad, I’m in shock. I don’t know what to say right now,” Andrew said, looking flabbergasted.
“Andrew, say yes. I need you. We don’t have much time. I need your counsel as I need to make a crucial decision very soon. We must respond! I have a plan, but I want to run everything by you. I also need to create a line of succession if I die. I wouldn’t want anyone else to succeed me but you.”
“Brad . . . I,” Andrew said and then paused. He then stood up and put out his hand. Conner grabbed it and shook it firmly. “I’m with you, w
hat do we need to do?”
“You need to go inform your wife, gather your family and everything you’ll need to bring with you. I don’t know when we’ll ever come back here. From here we fly to Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado. Can you get everything done in an hour or so?”
“An hour? I don’t see why not,” Andrew said and stepped away. He then stopped and turned and said, “Brad, we can fix this together, thank you for allowing me to serve my country.”
“Andrew, I wouldn’t have called on anyone else.”
San Diego, California
Gordon looked at his watch; it was 3:10 P.M. and only about one hundred and fifty people had gathered so far. He was willing to wait a bit longer but he couldn’t believe people wouldn’t come, when the announcement was clear that it was an emergency community meeting.
Jimmy walked up and patted Gordon on the shoulder. Looking out on the crowd of his fellow neighbors chatting and kids playing, he asked, “Where’s everyone?”
Looking perturbed, Gordon said, “I don’t know; but I do know that I can’t wait for everyone, and someone that is also notably late is Mindy and her cohorts.”
“Hey, that was a good haul we had this morning, good job on getting in through the shipping doors. I have to say I’ve only seen people shoot locks on doors in movies, now I know you can really do it,” Jimmy said. He was in a good mood. The past day and half had made him feel alive in a way. He was enjoying the adventure of it all.
“How’s Simone doing?”
“She’s good, man, no worries; thanks for asking.”
“Glad to hear it,” Gordon said. He then looked at his watch again and saw that it was now 3:14 P.M. “I’m going to start. Screw Mindy and her bullshit.”
“Hey, bud, her timing is impeccable. Over there,” Jimmy said, pointing to the far corner of the park. “Here she comes with her entourage.”
Gordon saw her leading a group of people. As they came into focus he could see the board members following her.
Mindy walked up to Gordon and said, “Hi, Gordon. Sorry we were late, but the meeting lasted longer than we had expected.” She looked around at the group gathered and then finished her thought by saying, “Thank you for waiting for us.” She then turned away from Gordon and spoke loudly, “Neighbors and friends of Rancho Valentino, thank you for coming to this emergency meeting!”
Everyone in the group started to quiet down and all turned their attention to Mindy.
“I need everyone to listen, so please pay attention!” Mindy said.
The last murmurs and chatter stopped after a brief moment.
“Friends and neighbors, we have called this emergency meeting to inform you of some troubling news. This blackout we are experiencing is not normal and unfortunately may not end anytime soon. With that in mind, we feel it is important to look inward and work together as a community to confront this problem. We do not know when the power will come back on, but it might be weeks if not months. Without power and more importantly without operational cars, the access to those things we need like food, water, and medicine will be restricted. Your HOA board feels we need to come together now and work to limit our exposure to this issue.”
All eyes were on Mindy, including Gordon’s. Gordon was just amazed by Mindy; he didn’t understand why she never pursued real politics.
“We are working on a final plan and will present that to each homeowner very soon. What we recommend is to conserve water and to ensure you eat those foods that are perishable first. If any of you have any questions, please ask them.”
A gentleman in the crowd raised his hand.
“Yes, go ahead,” Mindy said pointing at him.
“Mindy, what do you know about this? You seem to know more. . .”
Mindy paused and looked around at the board; she then turned and looked at Gordon.
Someone else then shouted from the crowd, “Tell us what you know!” Then someone else yelled, “If you know something, tell us!”
Mindy looked back toward the crowd and then to the man who had asked the first question. “Ahh, yes, well, we have a theory, or I should say that Mr. Van Zandt has a theory about what might have happened. We, meaning the board, are not sure about this theory, but felt it prudent to act because this blackout is unique.” Mindy looked nervous and out of sorts.
Someone from the crowd yelled, “What is it? What is this theory?” Then another person yelled, “C’mon, we have a right to know!”
Mindy, looking more uncomfortable, turned back to Gordon and waved for him to approach. She then turned back to the crowd and said, “Mr. Van Zandt will tell you his theory.”
Gordon walked up and looked at Mindy, who backed up a step. Gordon turned and began to address the crowd.
“Friends and neighbors, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this blackout we are experiencing is not going to end anytime soon. Based upon the facts, nothing more, I believe we have been attacked with some type of electromagnetic pulse weapon or EMP. What an EMP weapon does is fries everything that is electrical. This is why our cars don’t work or our phones or anything that we have that is electrical even if it was on batteries. I know my neighbor, James—James, are you out there?” Gordon asked, peering into the crowd looking for his elderly neighbor.
“Here, Gordon!” James responded from the back of the group.
“Yes, James there has heard the emergency broadcast system on his radio announcing that we have been attacked.” Gordon paused for a few seconds then continued. “An EMP is a very destructive weapon, depending on where it was set off and how large of a weapon it was, this blackout could be local, regional, or even nationwide.”
Dozens of people in the crowd started talking among themselves. The chatter became louder and louder.
Gordon continued, “I approached Mindy late this morning and informed her of my theory and presented her with a plan to survive this.”
“Survive?” someone yelled from the crowd.
Looking very serious, Gordon yelled back, “Yes, survive! People, let me explain. There is no help coming anytime soon; if my guess is right we are on our own. We must act now to secure as much food, water, and other supplies as we can to get through this. If this attack was nationwide, the lights will not come on for possibly years. Let me just lay it out to you. We live in a city of about 2.3 million people. San Diego is a semi-arid desert; there is not a lot of agriculture around, at least not enough to support 2.3 million people for a sustained period of time. Right now, grocery stores are not being restocked; they have but a day or two of food in them. Water will soon dry up because the pumps that bring it in are down. We must act now to get as much of the supplies we will need to last us at least a year if not more. We should prepare ourselves for the fact that some of us will die.”
“Gordon, that is enough, now you’re just scaring them!” Mindy snapped at him.
Gordon ignored her and continued, “There is not enough food and water for 2.3 million people in this area. If you want to survive what is coming, we must start today to go out and get these supplies. We cannot wait for the board to come back in a few days.”
“Gordon, that is enough!” Mindy snapped again, this time walking up to Gordon and taking his arm forcefully.
Gordon looked at her and said, “Let go of my arm.”
Mindy looked out into the crowd and said, “I am sorry for Mr. Van Zandt, we on the board feel he is being a bit sensational and we must think clearly before we overreact.”
“Let him speak!” someone yelled from the group. “What about my husband?” someone else yelled. “He hasn’t come home yet from downtown.”
Gordon shrugged off Mindy’s grip and answered the woman who asked about her husband. “Your husband is probably fine; it just takes a while to walk here from downtown. Friends and neighbors, I am not overreacting, this situation is not normal. Who out there happened to see th
at commercial airliner fall from the sky yesterday?”
About a dozen hands raised.
Gordon, sensing he had an upper hand with the group, pressed his case further.
“You’re right, that is not normal; typical blackouts do not cause cars to just stop working, cell phones not to turn on, or planes to fall out of the sky! I know this is hard for everyone to deal with, but our life, the life we knew before, is over. The jobs you had before, they are gone. We must start now to go out in organized groups to secure these resources before others do. The plan I gave Mindy addressed the things we need to do. We first must start with a headcount to see how many people we have in the neighborhood, how many are on medications, any with medical issues. We need to know what talents or trades you have that will benefit us.”
Gordon turned and looked at Mindy, who had hate in her eyes. He turned back to the crowd and finished by saying, “Please line up in a single file line, I will take your name down, how many in your household, address and talents that can serve our community. So please form a line over there, okay?”
People started to move and the line started to form. Gordon turned back to Mindy and said, “Sorry, but your typical bullshit won’t fly here; I won’t allow it. We have to act now. So you can either work with me or get the fuck out of my way.” Gordon walked away and approached the first person in line.
Jimmy stepped up next to him and said, “You the man, great speech.”
“Help me. Take this notepad and form another line or we’ll be here all day.”
Gordon and Jimmy worked until the sun set. They tried to help answer as many questions as they could. The back and forth with Mindy was noticed by all and even commented on by some. Gordon had not wanted the meeting to go in that direction, but he knew he was right and that Mindy seemed more concerned about pretense and procedure than about getting things done. Even in his frustration with her, he felt a bit sorry for her. How could she grasp the magnitude of what had happened and what would happen? Most people had never experienced the things he had. He had traveled the world, seen combat, seen death and taken life himself. He knew that when the sun was rising in the morning that he needed to be out with Jimmy and others looking for food. Even though the sunset signified the day was over, his work was not. He would have to go home and pore over all the info and start to form the teams. One of the other major problems was getting the rest of his neighbors on board, and to help find those who had not made it home. He also knew that he would have to go back to Mindy and make amends; in order for the community to move forward everyone needed to work together. He would give her a few days; he knew that eventually she would come over to his side. What she probably needed was to see the reality start to hit home. Until then, he was the leader of the community and that brought responsibility. He was used to leading, and in some ways was happy to have it.
The End Page 14