The End

by G. Michael Hopf

  In a chorus, all the men responded by saying, “Yes, sir.”

  “Great. Let me start by covering the ground truth of what is happening in Southern California. Our teams went to these locations.” Barone turned around and pointed to a map that showed Southern California. “Coronado, Thirty-second Street Naval Base, Point Loma, and Camp Pendleton. They reached them safely. They were able to make liaison with the base commanders except for Camp Pendleton. I’m not going to break down what each base commander told us but will jumble it all together as a lot of the information is similar. They report that all electronics were down, no vehicles except older vehicles were operating, aircraft, ships, and the entire power grid is down. Each commander has been feeding their personnel on stockpiled MREs after they had consumed what food rations they had left in their specific mess halls. They also expressed that they have had trouble with some of their personnel going UA. They have been operating at a lockdown and not allowing civilians onto the base unless they were family members of personnel. They have been monitoring the situation on the outside and report that mass deaths are starting to occur from dehydration, starvation, and civil unrest. They have reported roving gangs taking advantage of the situation. The city has descended into chaos, gentlemen. There is no law enforcement and there are rumors that the mayor of San Diego has fled the city. They did tell us that they have been receiving communication from the U.S. government now headquartered in an undisclosed location via the SIPRNet, or in layman’s terms the government’s own secret Internet. The Federal government has promised that they soon will be sending supplies, but to date they have received nothing. There are two pieces of confirmed intel that we received that changed our plans from what I had first detailed a few weeks ago. We will not be staying in Southern California. We will only be landing to go retrieve our families and can only stay for a week. After that, we must depart and head north. The reason for this change in plan is because the San Onofre nuclear plant is in full meltdown and radiation has contaminated an area about ten square miles. Most personnel at Camp Pendleton have evacuated and moved east to Twenty-nine Palms. Our teams there met with a few Marines who were remaining from the I MEF command element. The other situation we have is a former Mexican drug cartel that has moved into the area. They are expanding quickly across the county. According to reports from Coronado and the few elements left at Camp Pendleton, the cartel’s numbers are growing and they are well armed. So here is what we are going to be doing: We will conduct an amphibious landing on the beaches of Camp Del Mar here. We will set up a presence at the camp and will operate out of there for a week’s time. We will also conduct a simultaneous operation a day later on Coronado Island. There, those sailors who have families in and around San Diego can go get them. By now you have compiled a list of which Marines or sailors will be going onshore to find their families. We will set up a rotation so that everyone has a twenty-four-hour period to go locate and bring back those family members. We want them to bring back what resources they may have. Those resources are on the list that Simpson is handing out now. We will not be allowing personal possessions such as furniture, trinkets, et cetera. Understood?” Barone looked around and, seeing nods of assent, finished his briefing, “Gentlemen, this mission will be tough, as not all those looking for loved ones will find them. I fully expect to lose some people to possible fighting and to those who will decide to go UA and not return. I want a full count of your men now and upon departure a week later. Where we have openings, I will fill them with Marines and sailors who wish to join us from Camp Pendleton and the other bases I mentioned earlier. I do understand that the amount of time we are now giving is not a lot, but with the realities on the ground, specifically from San Onofre, we cannot stay here. Those going ashore at Camp Del Mar will do so in full MOP gear. We will begin operations at zero-five-thirty January sixth. Please have those lists updated so we know who needs to go ashore. We do not want anyone going ashore who wants a joy ride; this is not a liberty port. Tell your men this is now hostile territory and to expect hostile contact. The ROEs for this mission are every Marine and sailor going ashore will have weapons and ammo, they will return fire if fired upon, and if they see an incident where they can defend innocents then they can engage the hostiles. Now I can take questions.”

  A dozen men sitting in front of Barone threw up their arms.

  “Go ahead, Major,” Barone said to an officer in the room.

  Standing up, the major asked, “Colonel, you didn’t mention the civilian population. We will be encountering them and they will look to us for food, water, et cetera. What do we do with them? What are the SOPs?” The major sat down after asking his question.

  “Good question, Major. We will avoid the local civilian population; we cannot help them. We do not have the surplus resources to give them anything. Your mission, and it cannot deviate, is that we are here to secure those family members and bring them back. Just family members, not friends, not random people; I need you to make this clear to the men. Those caught bringing back stragglers will find the stragglers left adrift at sea, and they may join them if they wish to not follow orders,” Barone said sternly. He then pointed to a captain in the back.

  Standing up, the captain asked, “Can you cover in more detail the rules of engagement?”

  “Captain, the ROEs for this mission are simple. Every Marine and sailor going ashore will have weapons and ammo, they will return fire if fired upon, and if they see an incident where they can defend innocents, then they can engage the hostiles. I do not want our men going out looking for a fight; we have a short window here and we must have them get to their families and return directly. I want to stress that this mission is to just go directly to residences or locations of their family members, pick them up, and come directly back. I do not want our troops out on a joy ride or fucking off. We don’t have time for that.”

  One by one he went through and picked each and every officer and senior NCO who had their hand up. He would not let anyone leave this room until they were all clear about the mission ahead. He was now down to the last two Marines.

  “Go ahead, Master Sergeant,” Barone said pointing toward the center of the room to a tall and bald older man.

  “Colonel, what are we going to do with the prisoners? They are using up resources and there are a lot of them,” the Master Sergeant said.

  “Master Sergeant, let me just be blunt. Those Marines and sailors who are in the brig now will not be joining us after we depart. We are going to dump their asses on the beach with some MREs and water. We will provide them with them means to defend themselves because in the end they are still our brothers, but we will not be taking them with us. We will wish them well and that will be it. I think that answered your question.”

  The master sergeant nodded and said, “Yes sir, it did. It was crystal clear.”

  Looking around the room there was one last hand raised and Barone called on him. “You there, Captain . . . Ah . . . Smiley,” Barone said, hesitating then grinning when he read the captain’s name.

  “Thank you, Colonel. Where are we going after we depart San Diego?”

  “Another good question. Captain, once we complete Operation Homestead we will be departing San Diego and heading north toward Oregon. We have spotted a good location to conduct an amphibious landing in Coos Bay. After we secure the beachhead we will march toward Salem, the capital, and take it.”

  Captain Smiley looked stunned when Barone finished what he said. He then asked, “Take it, sir?”

  “Yes, Captain, take it. We will need a new place to call home. We will need a new country to start. We have the means, we have the resources, hell, Captain, we have an army! What we don’t need are sniveling politicians telling us what they’re going to do with what we have. We don’t answer to them anymore; we only answer to ourselves. No longer will we be second-class citizens. We will go to Oregon to set up a new country where it’s not the politicians or
the celebrities who are at the top of the food chain. We will build a country where the warrior is appreciated and where the warrior class is above everyone else. There is plenty of land in Oregon, good land. This is where we will settle down. I chose Oregon because there are no nuclear plants within five hundred miles. The area is easily defended due to the mountains, there is plenty of wild game, and they have four seasons and get plenty of rain, so agriculturally we can be self-sufficient. This will be our new home, gentlemen, and we won’t ask permission to come there. We will take what we need and not be sorry for it. We, all of us, have sacrificed a lot. Many of our brothers made the ultimate sacrifice and for what? For a country where half of the people don’t even care for them or respect them? We are no longer sacrificing for a lazy people. Does that answer your question?” Barone finished, his face flush.

  “Yes, sir,” the captain said, starting to sit down. He stopped, stood straight up again, and asked another quick question. “Sir, what do we tell our men this new mission is called?”

  “Rubicon, Operation Rubicon.”

  Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

  Conner stood staring at Julia sleeping; a range of emotions ran through him. Last night had finished better than it had started. She had finally given in and told him that she understood. Realizing that he had a tough job, she decided to support him. She made him promise that he wouldn’t do anything foolish and he agreed that he wouldn’t.

  Before he tore his gaze away and left, he bent down and gave her one more kiss. Pressing his lips against her warm cheek, he held it there for a few seconds while taking a breath through his nose so he could capture and remember her smell. He gently touched her hair and whispered in her ear, “I love you, Julia.” It took a lot of inner strength to pull away. While he had made her that promise, he really couldn’t guarantee his safety. Standing at the door, he grabbed the knob but couldn’t turn it. He turned around and looked at the room. He wanted to create a mental image of everything in there. The trip would only take two weeks, but not knowing what he would encounter he wanted to remember this moment.

  • • •

  An anxious curiosity gripped him as the gates first cracked open. The more they opened the more he became excited and nervous. He could see the deep blue mountain sky and the dark green of the trees. As the convoy slowly moved out into the warmth and comfort of the sun’s rays, it also exposed the harsh realities of life on the surface.

  The main gate was riddled with debris, garbage, and signs. By the looks of it, locals had gone to the base to find sanctuary, but obviously those requests were denied. What tore at Conner’s heartstrings was seeing a small child’s teddy bear lying among the debris and garbage. He wondered where that child might be and if he was safe. As their six-vehicle convoy of Humvees drove down the mountain, Conner sat thinking about that stuffed animal and the child who had once cherished it. He thought about all the people scattered across the country. How alone, desperate, disappointed, and scared they must feel.

  The route to Peterson Air Force Base took them carefully across major roads; his security detail wanted to ensure they avoided residential areas. With starvation now taking hold of the civilian population, there was greater risk traveling across the residential surface streets.

  As they carefully drove, weaving around abandoned cars and wandering people, Conner could see that the city itself looked dead. He saw no lights, no movement except for the occasional person looking up as they drove by quickly. Conner could see those weary people scavenging through abandoned vehicles; he noticed many of the storefronts had their windows smashed; the streets were covered with debris and garbage. There was an occasional car or truck driving but the freeways were now a graveyard for most cars.

  Seeing a large group to his right he thought it odd. Looking closer, he saw they were chasing two women. The mob was sizeable, about twenty-plus people. He knew the situation was grave and that they should do something about it. When his convoy passed he saw the mob finally close in and catch them.

  “I need you to get off at the next exit and go back,” he said, pointing back toward the mob of people.

  “Sir, we are not to get off the highway for any reason. We must go directly to the base,” the young Air Force tech sergeant said.

  “I’m the President of the United States, get off now!” Conner yelled at the young man.

  “Yes, sir,” the tech sergeant replied, looking startled.

  He veered quickly off the highway and away from convoy. It was mere seconds before the radio inside Conner’s vehicle came alive.

  “Sooner One, Sooner One, this is Sooner Command, over.”

  “What should I say, sir?” the tech sergeant asked.

  “Turn right, then straight,” Conner said, ignoring his driver and giving directions as best he could.

  “Sooner One, this is Sooner Command vehicle, come in, over,” the voice over the radio repeated.

  “Sir?”

  “Hand me the radio,” Conner ordered.

  Conner took the handset. “This is Conner. I ordered our vehicle off the highway. There are civilians that need our assistance.”

  “What is your location, Sooner One?”

  “We are on Cody and Bradley heading south.”

  “Roger that, we are en route to provide support. Sooner Command, out.”

  Conner tossed the handset down and went back to directing the tech sergeant. “Somewhere over there!”

  Too busy looking to see where they needed to go, he hadn’t seen the corpse hung from a telephone pole at the entrance of the community. Before the attacks, this neighborhood was a haven for middle-class families; now it looked like a war zone.

  “Turn there!” Conner yelled.

  The tech sergeant turned to the right abruptly. The tires on his Hummer squealed under the stress of the turn. After making the turn, Conner could see the mob of people ahead. They were ripping and tearing at the two women on the ground.

  “Do you have another gun, sergeant?” Conner asked.

  “Yes sir,” the tech sergeant said, handing Conner an M-9 Berretta 9 millimeter pistol.

  “Stop here,” Conner ordered.

  They stopped a comfortable thirty feet away from the crazed mob. Jumping out, Conner wasted no time; he held the pistol above his head and pulled the trigger. Seeing the mob rip and tear at the two was one thing, but when they stepped out of the Hummer the added dimension of hearing the women scream created a macabre scene.

  The sound of the shot made everyone stop and turn around. The mob had been so focused on attacking and brutalizing the women they hadn’t heard them pull up. With the mob silent and their attention now on Conner, the only sound was the moaning of the two women.

  “Back away from them now!” Conner commanded, pointing the pistol at the mob.

  No one moved, they just stared at Conner.

  He shot again in the air and yelled, “Move away from them, now!”

  Finally obeying his command, they slowly moved away from the women. Conner cautiously moved toward the two victims as the mob moved farther away. At first all he could see were two lifeless bodies on the ground. He could hear them moaning, but saw no movement. With each step the reality of the women’s fate came into focus. They were lying in a large pool of blood with their clothes stripped from them. A few more steps closer he could see that the bloodthirsty mob hadn’t just beaten them; they had literally ripped them apart. One woman’s arm was severed from her body. The other had her abdomen torn open and parts of her intestines were strewn over the both of them. Seeing this shocked Conner to the point he had to turn his gaze away. It took every ounce of control for him not to throw up.

  Conner knew there was nothing he could do for these women. He reclaimed his composure and without hesitation walked over and mercifully shot each woman in the head. He took a moment to look at them. He wondered who they were. Just fiv
e weeks ago their lives were so different.

  He turned his attention to the mob and yelled, “What is wrong with you?” No response came from them, they just stared at him. “Why would you do this?” he asked.

  “They stole food,” someone from the back of the group finally responded.

  “They stole food? That was it, so you brutally beat them and tore them apart?” Conner screamed at them.

  A shot cracked loudly behind him. Conner turned and saw the tech sergeant fall to the ground. Conner’s initial shock was soon replaced with fear as he began to feel that he had made a big mistake by deviating from the plan to go play hero.

  “Who are you to come here and so righteously condemn our laws!” a man said from a distance holding a hunting rifle. Working the bolt, he cleared an old casing and loaded a new bullet.

  Conner squinted so he could see better. As the man came into focus, he saw what he was up against. The man was large in stature, bald, and there was something ominous about him. The man took long strides down the street toward him. Others armed with guns, bats, machetes, and various other weapons came out of the other homes. Conner saw movement in the corner of his eye and turned to look. The mob he had subdued now started to move toward him. Conner was in an impossible position and ran to his vehicle. His running prompted the mob to do the same as they rushed the vehicle. Making it just in time he was able to close and lock the door. He looked down to start the Hummer then realized he didn’t know how to. The mob began to climb all over the vehicle. Fumbling at the controls, he was turning knobs and pushing buttons. Hummers were not like normal cars. There was no key or ignition switch on the steering column or anywhere on the console. Seeing a lever that said “On” to the left of the steering wheel, he turned it till a light appeared. The mob started to hit the vehicle with sticks, bats, and metal rods. Suddenly, in the chaos, he heard gunfire; the mob quickly leapt off the vehicle and ran. More automatic gunfire came as he saw many in the mob fall to the ground. The heaviness of the situation started to lift as he heard his convoy come to his rescue. He could not see what was happening, as the vehicle faced the wrong way. The battle outside sounded fierce, like things he’d only heard on television. Hundreds of bullets were being fired but as the seconds ticked away the gunfire lessened till there was only silence. He sat there waiting and listening.