Shelter

by C A Bird

  Mark frowned, “Are you that worried about this?”

  Will suddenly looked older than his 62 years. “Yes I am, Mark. Damn worried. This may be bigger than anyone imagines. Why do you think China tested this weapon? They’ve tipped their hand, making the entire world aware of their capabilities by testing both H-bombs and neutron bombs together. I’m sure they just needed one successful test. Now they know their weapons are operational. If it hadn’t worked, they could just say “Oops, we made a mistake” and the world would go ahead and forgive them. Because that’s what we do. We never hold anyone accountable for anything since we pulled out of Iraq and Afghanistan. Everyone is too tired of confrontation. And this Red Mercury, enabling them to kill life and preserve the property for future use? China has a hell of a lot of people, well over one billion, and it’s been rumored that they, and Russia, have built shelters to protect huge numbers of their population. They are seriously upset that previous administrations’ “quantitative easing” has destroyed the value of the debt we owe them. They’ve already quit buying our bonds and they want to be repaid. Our current inflation is killing the dollar.” He paused and gazed out the window.

  “Instead of biting the bullet and cutting spending on entitlements, or trying to reduce the deficit, they kicked the can down the road and just kept spending. They bought an election with the promise to take care of the voters from cradle to grave, just like the European system. We could have had a less painful let-down by balancing the budget. Instead we kept trying to give everyone something for nothing, and now we’re broke, and China isn’t about to let us default on our debt. I think they want their money one way or the other.

  “If they want to preserve structures why use hydrogen bombs at all? They’re going to blow everything to smithereens.” Mark said.

  “They would need to disable our retaliatory capability by destroying major cities, military installations, missile silos, and the like. The neutron bombs aren’t as powerful for destroying that type of infrastructure. The additional radiation produced by the neutron bombs would destroy life in areas not crippled by the hydrogen blasts. The MIRVs can carry up to ten independent missiles. They wouldn’t need to have warheads on all of them. Some could deliver the Red Mercury detonated neutron bombs or even biological weapons. Then, after a suitable period, they just move in.”

  “God Will, You don’t think they actually intend to use it?” Mark was shocked at Will’s implication.

  “I certainly hope not, but what were they thinking? I talked to Karl Dohner three days ago. He’s out flying all over the Western U.S. making deliveries.”

  Mark suddenly realized Will thought this was very serious indeed.

  August 19, 2:00 p.m.

  Las Vegas, New Mexico

  Barbara Thompson drove into the bus/train depot. She parked her car in the short-term parking and entered the terminal with a few minutes to kill. She stopped and bought a Diet Coke and a newspaper and found a seat in the shared waiting area, scowling as she read the headline that proclaimed:

  “U.S. Accuses China of Nuke Testing.”

  The U.S. denounced today, the testing of an aboveground nuclear device over the South Pacific Ocean by the Chinese government. The test is a clear violation of the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty.

  Neither Russia nor any of the other former Soviet states have issued statements at this time, but Secretary of State Charles Hansen is reported to be traveling to Moscow for a meeting with the Russian President.

  The President of the United States is conferring with his advisors today to decide on a course of action and to evaluate appropriate sanctions. Reliable sources indicate the test caught the U.S. completely off-guard. Apparently, according to the same sources, the blast was more powerful than the Chinese were previously thought capable of.

  Global concern over radiation has nuclear scientists scrambling to measure the effects of the test and the United Nations is sending an international team to monitor the situation.

  As she read other stories about carjacking, rape, murder and an increasing number of home invasion robberies she wondered what kind of world they were creating for Jeremy to grow up and live in. Things were becoming worse every day as welfare was slashed and the food stamp program had been cut in half.

  Glancing at her watch, she gulped down the remainder of the Diet Coke, left the paper behind, and followed the arrow “to trains,” passing through the door onto the platform just as the train from Albuquerque was unloading. Pete disembarked, and turned to speak with the girl behind him. They seemed to be together as they headed toward the door where Barbara waited. Pete spotted her, his face lighting up with a grin, and he rushed over and hugged her so hard he nearly crushed her. Pete did everything with a lot more enthusiasm than her husband Jerry did. She noticed a small earring in his left ear that hadn’t been there when he came home for Easter.

  “Barbara, I’d like you to meet Sandi Baker, a friend from school. Her parents are on vacation in Europe and I convinced her to stay with us for a few days until they get home.”

  Sandi took Barbara’s outstretched hand. “Hi Barbara. Nice to meet you, I hope it won’t cause any inconvenience. Pete can be very convincing.”

  “No problem at all. Glad to have you. If you can get along with Pete, you’re welcome.”

  “Oh, thanks a lot Barb. I’m an angel, everyone gets along with me.” They collected their luggage and headed to the parking area.

  Barbara was curious about Sandi. She really didn’t seem to be Pete’s type. He was very good looking and quite extroverted, while Sandi, although certainly not bad looking, seemed rather plain, and spoke with a soft, shy voice. Her light brown hair hung below her shoulders, no hint of waves or curls, and her wide set eyes accentuated her look of shyness. She didn’t appear to be wearing any make-up. Barbara particularly wondered how Walter and Sarah, who could be a little old fashioned sometimes, would react to Pete’s bringing this girl home.

  “How long will you be here?” Barbara asked Sandi.

  “I guess about a week. Pete promised to take me hiking for a couple days.”

  Pete threw the bags in the back of the Wagoneer and they all climbed in, Pete taking the back seat. “I was telling Sandi about me and Jerry backpacking every summer and she seemed interested. Can you believe she’s never been?”

  “Yeah, I sure can. You guys have never taken me, even when I begged, remember?”

  “It was a guy thing, Barb. We haven’t backpacked since last summer so I figured this would be a good opportunity. There’s only a couple of weeks before I have to return for my final year. Hey, How’s Jeremy doing?”

  “He’s trying to be independent at the age of 9. He’s not being very successful.” She laughed.

  Nothing was very distant in Las Vegas and it took only a short while to reach their destination. Barbara dropped them off at Walter and Sarah’s house and asked them to make her apologies, as she had another class to attend. She was in her sophomore year, working on her teaching credential at New Mexico Highland University.

  Pete tried to think of a delicate way to approach his parents about the backpacking trip. He and his brother had hunted and fished in the nearby Sangre de Cristo Mountains every summer since moving from Los Alamos, but summer school had interfered with this annual pilgrimage and he was eagerly anticipating some quality time in the wilderness. His folks would be disappointed he was leaving again so soon, but Sandi would be going home to Phoenix when her parents returned and this would be their only opportunity.

  He’d met Sandi in one of his classes, a beginning course in illustration. He took it as an elective, hoping it would be useful in his engineering classes, but he was terrible at it and had reluctantly admitted he would forever be compelled to do his drawing using computer CAD programs. He would have dropped the course if Sandi hadn’t tutored him and they’d become good friends during the last semester. She’d recently had an emotionally difficult time breaking off a relationship with her boyfriend and
Pete had lent his support. He discovered her parents were out of the country and on the spur of the moment invited her to go backpacking with him.

  They came through the front door of the shop and his mother, who was working at the front desk, jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. She blubbered something about “finally home” and “my baby” and finally stepped back to wipe away a tear. She smiled at Sandi and looked a question at her son.

  “Mom, this is Sandi, a friend from school. I invited her to stay a few days while her parents are in Europe.”

  They exchanged greetings and went into the living quarters. “Have you had lunch? I was just about to fix your father’s. He’s running late or he would have eaten by now.”

  “No, we haven’t. We saved our appetite for some home cooking. I’ll put my stuff in my room. Is Jerry's old room made up?” She assured him it was and he left to put their things away.

  “Mrs. Thompson, I appreciate your letting me stay. I don’t particularly like going to my parents’ place when they’re away. They moved to Phoenix while I was away at school and it just doesn’t feel like home to me.” She leaned against the kitchen sink while Sarah prepared sandwiches and soup for lunch.

  “It’s no problem at all, we have plenty of room. Have you known Peter for very long?” She sounded casual but Sandi, who was already a little embarrassed and concerned about what Pete’s parents would think about her and Pete going camping, could feel the questions coming. Fortunately, Pete returned to rescue her, hugged his mom and winked at Sandi over Sarah’s shoulder.

  They heard the front door slam and Walter entered the kitchen, his grin splitting from ear to ear as he grabbed his son’s hand, pulling him into a bear hug. Sandi could see the resemblance, but where Walter was large boned and heavy, Pete was tall and slender and, she thought, extremely good-looking.

  After introductions and settling down to eat, Pete asked how the family business was doing. Walter laughed, “Are you kidding? It’s 92 degrees out there. The air-conditioning part of the business has been booming. I’m glad you’re here. I could use your help.”

  Pete gave a sideways glance at Sandi and plunged right in, “I’ll be able to help quite a bit when I get back, Dad. Sandi and I are going backpacking for a couple of days before she heads for Phoenix. I hate to leave when I just got home but it’s our only chance since I have to go back for the fall semester in two weeks.” Feeling uncomfortable, Sandi carefully studied the remains of her tuna sandwich.

  Walter hesitated, looking slightly disappointed, then said, “Well, I guess that’s okay, Pete. I know how much you miss those mountains.”

  Pete breathed a sigh of relief. His father was the most understanding man he’d ever known. It was clear his dad was wondering about his relationship with Sandi and probably disapproved of his going camping, just the two of them, but he would never put Pete on the spot in front of company. They carried on a desultory conversation, catching up on family news as they finished lunch.

  “Hey, how’s my truck? Did Jerry have any problems with the new engine?” Pete had blown the engine just before he was due back at school and had to take a bus to Albuquerque much to his embarrassment. Sandi had provided transportation during the summer session, which had contributed to the time they’d spent together, and Pete promised he would return the favor and drive her back to Albuquerque when she was ready to fly to Phoenix.

  “No, it only took him three days. Your truck is good as new.”

  “Great! Jerry’s the best mechanic in town.” He stood up, having trouble keeping the excitement from his voice, “Come on Sandi, we’ll go start getting the gear ready. I’ll ask my brother if we can borrow his pack and sleeping bag.” Amused, Sandi followed him out the side door toward the garage where Pete’s Ford Ranger was stored.

  Walter turned to Sarah, “Sandi’ll be gone in a few days and we’ll tell Pete and Jerry about the box when he gets back from his trip. What do you think about that earring?”

  Sarah just grinned at him.

  Early that evening a mound of camping gear, including a backpack, fishing pole and tackle, sleeping bag, flashlights and old bags of dehydrated food, loomed in the center of the living room floor. Pete was on the phone, talking to his brother. “Hi Jerry. Yeah it’s the kid. Hey, when you come over tonight can you bring your backpack and mummy bag? I have a friend visiting and we’re going camping tomorrow morning.” He listened to the reply and then said, “I knew you’d be jealous. Cool, see you later.”

  Sandi helped Sarah prepare dinner as Walter listened to his son’s phone conversation. He disapproved of Pete going off to the mountains with this girl but knew it wasn’t any of his business. After all, it was the 21st century and Pete lived in a university environment with a completely different set of rules and mores than Walter grew up with. Pete had always been headstrong, but other than a few minor problems, had never disappointed his parents. Well, there was the time the boys threw the cherry bomb in Mrs. Morales’ mailbox and blasted it to several large pieces of deadly shrapnel that nearly decapitated Pete as he and Jerry frantically pedaled away on their bicycles. The local Sheriff allowed Walter to compensate her for the damage with the stipulation the boys apologize to Mrs. Morales. Leaving her home, they barely got out the door before the boys had erupted in paroxysms of laughter. Walter had cuffed them both good. Punishment consisted of cleaning the garage, an almost impossible task, and working without pay for two weeks in the appliance store doing clerical tasks, the most insufferable thing in the world for two teenage boys.

  “Son, how long will you and Sandi be gone?”

  “We’ll drive up to Eagle Nest tomorrow morning, pack in and camp tomorrow night, and hike back out the next afternoon. We should be home by day after tomorrow in the evening and I’ll be ready to help you in the shop the next day. Sandi’s never backpacked before and I don’t think we should push it for her first trip. She might never want to go again.” He guessed what his father was thinking. “Sandi and I are just friends, Dad. She just ended a relationship and she needs a friend.”

  But Walter was worried about much more than just the girl. He was concerned about the package he’d received this morning, and he was worried about China testing Hydrogen bombs… and he was damned worried about what the Russians would do about it.

  August 19, 3:00 p.m.

  Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

  Leroy Jefferson had a problem. He stood at his console, trying to control his breathing and clasping his hands together to calm their trembling. It was worse today. He listened to a news broadcast prior to coming on shift, and because of reports of Iran getting close to having the bomb, and the on-going war against terrorism, and because of nuclear tests being conducted by China, it was much worse today. Leroy paid very close attention to the news; you might say he was a news addict.

  Part of his problem was that Senior Airman Leroy Jefferson was claustrophobic, and the other part of his problem was that he was stationed at the NORAD Alternate Command Center deep within Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado.

  Despite the circumstances, Leroy considered this the best assignment he’d ever had. The energy of the place was incredible and Leroy, stationed here for almost a year, considered himself personally in charge of protecting the United States of America from enemies foreign and domestic. He took his responsibility very seriously.

  But, unfortunately, he had this bad case of claustrophobia and was barely able to maintain control from day to day. Last year, after receiving orders for NORAD, the North American Aerospace Defense Command, he’d made an appointment with a civilian psychiatrist, having heard that “systematic desensitization” sometimes worked with simple phobias. The process involved gradually confronting the sufferer with situations close to the feared ones until he was no longer phobic. It cost him a fortune and was completely unsuccessful, undoubtedly because he had to report to Cheyenne Mountain long before he had the opportunity to finish the therapy.

  Most of the command had been moved o
ut of the mountain to Peterson AFB in Colorado Springs and he hoped he would be stationed there. But as luck would have it he got assigned to the Alternate Command Center in the Cheyenne Mountain Nuclear Bunker. He was okay most of the time, able to convince himself this large room he worked in was open space above ground. The claustrophobia kicked in when the space was smaller than a normal size room or when he perceived a danger.

  Leroy’s console was one of several positioned in a line facing several huge screens at the front of the room. There was another line of workstations behind him at a slightly higher level. A constant babble of voices filled the air as data was accumulated and reports were given on troop movements, fleet reassignments and incoming satellite transmissions.

  Getting to work every day proved to be a major challenge as the jeeps carrying him and his co-workers entered the mountain through the pneumatic blast doors and traversed a network of tunnels large enough to drive massive trucks through. On most days he was able to stare straight ahead and ignore the panic building within him. On occasion though, when there were reports of international tension, he knew he’d never make it and he feigned illness, attending sick call to avoid being in the mountain just in case something should happen. Usually, though, he just went to work and shook.

  This morning, he had considered calling in sick, but on other occasions when there were similarly frightening reports he’d managed to get to work, worrying that calling in sick too often would call attention to his problem. During the Iraq War he had actually been counseled for poor attendance and he’d been stationed above ground at the time!

  Leroy monitored his console, feeding data to the mainframe computer and checking it against that received by his co-workers at other terminals. He continually evaluated data from a variety of sources including E-3A Airborne Warning and Control System, or AWACS aircraft, which were essentially flying radar installations. He received other data from ADCOM, the U.S. Aerospace Command that supported the mission of NORAD, a joint U.S. and Canadian organization.