by Dirk Patton
I reached for them, missing the catch by several inches. Standing there, I looked down at my hand in surprise.
“Sorry,” Rachel said. “I needed to make a point, and thought this would be a way to get you to listen.”
“What point? That I can’t catch underwear?”
“Don’t be a jerk,” she said, frowning at me. “The point is, your brain is used to having two functioning eyes. Stereoscopic vision. They work in tandem, allowing you good spatial perception. I’m sure you’ve already realized you don’t have left peripheral vision, but you need to understand that you’ve lost more than that.”
“Like what?” I asked, picking up the underwear and pulling it on.
“Like what just happened. Judging speed and location. You’re also going to have difficulty estimating distance. Those are the big things that will be a problem for you in the short term.”
“In the short term? You mean until my sight comes back?”
“Not exactly. What I mean is that it’s going to take time for your brain to adjust to the loss of half of the visual input its always had. And, assuming the worst, even when that happens, you’re still going to have a noticeable def…”
She stopped speaking and looked away.
“Noticeable what?”
She shook her head.
“Going to say deficit, weren’t you?”
She nodded, looking up to meet my one good eye. I stood there for a long pause, pants in my hands. As much as I hated to hear what she was saying, I knew she was right. The loss of an eye would be an immediate medical retirement from any Special Forces unit. Maybe, if one was lucky, the military would find a desk job for the injured warrior, but most likely it would mean you were done. It was a huge disadvantage, and I knew that.
But, I also knew that in the world we lived in, retiring to a shitty apartment and collecting disability pay wasn’t an option. Now, when there was a fight, you had to step up. It didn’t matter what might be wrong with you. Not if you wanted to live. What I had to do was remember that I had a disadvantage. I had to find ways to compensate.
“I get it,” I said.
Stepping into the pants, I pulled them up and sat on the bench next to her to lace a new pair of boots. She placed her hand lightly on my shoulder but didn’t say anything else.
15
When we walked into the cafeteria, Irina looked up from a cup of coffee and smiled in surprise when she saw me. Jumping to her feet, she rushed across the room and gingerly wrapped her arms around me, planting a delicate kiss on the undamaged side of my face.
“I am so glad to see you,” she said, stepping back but keeping her hands on my arms.
Before I could answer, Tiffany pushed between us and hugged me, burying her face against my chest. With what I was sure was an embarrassed grin, I hugged her back.
“OK, OK, let him sit down,” Rachel said, steering me towards the closest table. “You two keep an eye on him while I get some food.”
Irina and Tiffany sat across from me as Rachel disappeared into the kitchen. Across the room, a group of girls huddled around a table, watching us. I didn’t see Chelsea.
“How’s your eye? Looks like hell,” Tiffany said, leaning forward for a better look.
“That’s how it feels,” I said.
“Can you see?” Irina asked.
“Sure,” I said, trying another smile, then changed the subject. “Where is everyone?”
“Keeping watch,” Irina said. “The militia has surrounded us.”
“What?” I shoved the chair back and stood, apparently too fast, as my head swam and I had to put a hand out to steady myself.
“Sit your ass down!”
Rachel had come back with a plate of food as I’d gotten to my feet, coming to a stop and glaring at me.
“Igor has everything well in hand,” Irina said. “We are secure. They cannot get in.”
“What do they want?” I asked, still standing.
Rachel strode to the table and set the plate down, harder than necessary. Hands on her hips, she stared at me until I slowly sank back into my chair. After watching me a moment, she took the seat next to mine and slid the plate in front of me.
“What do they want?” I asked again.
“Blood,” Irina said, shrugging as if it wasn’t anything unusual. “They are upset over all of their people we have killed. The ones in the desert when you were on your way to Mexico, and there were quite a few that Igor killed while rescuing the girls.”
I nodded slowly, using a fork to pick at the food Rachel had prepared.
“We’re even,” Tiffany said in a voice laced with venom.
I looked at her, not understanding. It had looked like Igor had successfully retrieved all the girls that had been taken. Had they been abused while being held captive?
“Caleb,” she said after an awkward moment of silence.
I hadn’t realized until that moment that her boyfriend hadn’t been one of the people who’d piled into the boat.
“What happened?” I asked gently.
She didn’t say anything, finally looking away with tears in her eyes.
“He was with Igor,” Irina answered for her. “They got to where the girls were being held, but an alarm was raised on the way out. Igor was leading the group, and Caleb was watching the rear. He did not make it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said to Tiffany.
After a long minute, she sniffed and wiped her eyes, turning to look at me.
“I’m sorry, too,” she said. “I know about your wife. We’ve all lost someone.”
We sat there for a bit, simply looking at each other. Again, she’d reminded me that she may look like a kid, but she’d grown up. I reached across the table and squeezed her hand briefly before turning back to Irina.
“How many are out there?”
“Igor estimates more than three hundred. Master Chief Gonzales concurs.”
“Has anyone talked to them?” I asked, taking a bite of the food.
“No. They broadcasted their demands over a loud speaker when they arrived. They are using radios to coordinate their movements. We can hear them, hear the basic codes they are using, but they refuse to respond to our calls.”
“What about Hawaii? Any help coming?”
Irina shook her head before I even finished asking the question.
“There was a large engagement between American and Russian forces. Heavy losses on both sides. There are large elements of the Russian Air Force occupying bases on the west coast, and the Admiral does not have enough remaining planes to fight his way through. We are on our own.”
“Fucking marvelous,” I grumbled.
The news Irina was giving me had killed my appetite, but I forced myself to keep eating. The food didn’t even taste good, but my body needed it.
“What else do I need to know?” I asked.
“Those are the highlights,” Irina said. “We are trapped, but I am hopeful that they will grow tired and leave.”
“Yeah, well, if they’ve got any idea of what this place is, and I’m betting they do, that ain’t gonna happen.” I pushed the empty plate away and stood up. “Where’s Igor? Never mind. You’d better take me there so you can translate.”
“Sure you’re up to it?” Rachel asked, standing up next to me.
“I’m fine,” I said, even though a headache was threatening to crush my skull like an empty beer can.
“You don’t look like you are,” Tiffany said, earning an appreciative glance from Rachel.
“Let’s go,” I said to Irina, ignoring the concerned expressions on all three of their faces.
With a sigh, Irina got to her feet and I followed her out into the hall, Rachel and Dog sticking close. We all got into one of the electric carts, Irina taking the wheel, and headed out with a squeal of tires on the smooth concrete floor. The first stop was the armory where I spent close to ten minutes outfitting myself with weapons. Then, a few minutes later, we parked adjacent to a steel door
simply labeled as Security. The keypad that normally controlled access was missing, a tangle of wires dangling from the wall to the right of the jamb.
When I pushed through, Igor looked up from a massive control station. When he saw me, he leapt to his feet, smiled, and in very Russian fashion wrapped me in a hug and placed a kiss on my uninjured cheek. I appreciated his enthusiasm for my continued existence, but I really needed to have a chat with him about how men in America greet each other. I’m not big into hugs, and sure as hell don’t think lips should ever enter the equation. But, despite my discomfort, I returned the hug and grinned at him as he stepped away. He rattled off something in Russian, and I looked to Irina for help.
“Igor says he is very happy to see you on your feet, even if your face does look like a plate of borscht,” she translated.
“Bite me, asshole,” I said after turning to face Igor.
He laughed before resuming his seat and scanning dozens of monitors that covered the wall to his front. Moving closer, I peered at them, reminded of how hard it was going to be to adjust to only one eye when I bumped into a chair. The damn thing was to my left, and I hadn’t seen it. If it had been an infected, I’d have been lunch by now.
On several of the screens, I could see men in a variety of quasi-military clothing standing around pickups. All of them were heavily armed but appeared to be poorly trained, if at all. Instead of putting a man up in the bed of each truck to keep watch on their surroundings, they were all clustered near the tailgates, smoking and talking.
“How long have they been out there?” I asked.
“Showed up a few hours after the pilot brought you in.”
I turned at the new voice to see Master Chief Gonzales standing in the open door.
“Sorry I missed you, sir,” he said. “Didn’t know you were up and I was in the head.”
“This isn’t a parade ground, Master Chief,” I said, earning a painful grin from him. “So, what have the ass hats out there been doing?”
“After you left, we found out how to lock down the facility. One hell of an impressive setup. Blast doors and everything. Best guess is it’s intended to protect in the event of a nuclear strike. Not a direct hit, mind you, but anything short of that probably ain’t getting through. They’ve tried to force their way in a couple of times. Tried some C-4. Didn’t get very far. One of the dumb bastards blew himself up.”
He chuckled as he said the last. I nodded my aching head in thought.
“When we were on our way south, we swung by Nellis. Were gonna pick up some heavier weapons, but they were there, raiding an armory. Can you think of anything they might have gotten their hands on that could be a problem?”
Gonzales was quiet for a moment before shaking his head.
“No, sir,” he said. “Not man-portable, at least. Now, if they’ve got a pilot, I’ll bet you there are some bunker busters at Nellis that could ruin our day.”
“Speaking of pilots, where the hell is Commander Vance?”
“Sleeping.”
Gonzales shrugged, somehow managing to convey his distaste for the man.
“He been behaving?” I asked.
“Sir?” The Master Chief asked, frowning.
“Never mind,” I said, not feeling like going into an explanation. “Irina told me they broadcasted a message when they arrived. What did they say?”
“They want the men that killed their men, and they want the girls back. Said they’ll starve us out if we don’t give them up.”
“Nothing else?” I asked.
“No, sir. I’ve tried to raise them on the radio several times, but they refuse to respond.”
I turned back to the screens in thought. Watched as several separate groups of men stood around in the dark desert. Tried to figure out what they could be waiting for.
“How are we fixed for supplies, Master Chief?” I asked without taking my attention off the monitors.
“Sir, the facility is apparently on a well, or wells. Got all the water we need. Food? Hell, there’s enough food in here to keep all of us going for years if need be.”
“Power?”
“Seems stable, but we haven’t been able to figure out where it’s coming from.”
I took a deep breath and quickly ran over everything in my mind that needed to be dealt with. And, probably didn’t think of at least three or four important things.
“OK, go roust our pilot out of bed, and get him down here. I’ve got some questions for him.” Gonzales started to turn away before I stopped him. “By the way, what’s Johnson up to?”
“Still opening doors. He’s convinced he’ll find an alien ray gun or something that’ll zap all those guys outside into dust.”
“Has he found anything interesting?”
“Not really sure,” Gonzales grinned. “Most of the shit he’s found, well, none of us have a clue what it’s supposed to do.”
16
While I waited for the Master Chief to return with Vance, I sat down next to Igor. Irina and Rachel had taken off in the golf cart when I’d asked if they could find me some aspirin. My head was pounding like a Friday night frat party, and it was hard to think.
“Have you seen the General?” I asked.
“General?” Igor asked, turning to look at me.
I held cupped hands in front of my chest in the universal symbol for big boobs that he and Long had used when they’d seen her at Nellis. His face lit up in understanding, then he shook his head.
“Nyet. Too sorry,” he said, copying me and grinning.
“Have you told Irina you love her?”
That question wiped the smile off his face, and he dropped his hands into his lap.
“Not right time,” he said.
“There is no right time, my friend,” I said, slapping him on the shoulder.
“You tell Rachel?” He shot back.
“Been a little busy,” I grumbled.
“I, too,” he said, happy to ride along on my excuse.
“Me,” I said. “Me, too, not I, too. Got it?”
“Me, too,” he said, nodding his head.
“Me, too, what?” Rachel asked from behind, causing me to jump.
I turned and held my hand out for the aspirin bottle she was holding.
“Just a little English lesson,” I said.
“Uh huh.”
She shook her head and rattled two tablets out of the bottle, handing them to me along with a bottle of water. I swallowed them as Vance walked through the door, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“You look like hell,” he said as he flopped into a chair.
Dog had been lying close to it. He didn’t care much for Vance and showed his displeasure by grunting and moving closer to me.
“Whatever,” I grumbled. “Didn’t have the Master Chief wake you up to give me an assessment of my appearance.”
He looked like he had something smart to say but wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. I wasn’t in the mood.
“You’ve seen those yahoos out there?” I asked, hooking my thumb over my shoulder at the monitors.
He glanced in that direction before nodding.
“When we were on our way to get you, we stopped at Nellis and saw them raiding what I’m pretty sure was the small arms armory. Nothing in there that’s going to be able to breach this place. But, what about a bomb?”
“You mean like air dropped ordnance? Like a JDAM?” He asked, instantly growing more alert.
“Yes.”
“Well, sure. If they’ve got a pilot, and personnel with the knowledge to get it loaded onto an aircraft and armed. No reason they couldn’t. They could probably even figure it out. The biggest stumbling block for them would be having someone who can fly one of those jets and actually hit his target.”
I nodded at what he said, which paralleled what I’d been thinking, but it was nice to get confirmation from an expert.
“What about without an aircraft?” I asked.
“You mean just roll the bomb
up to the door and detonate?”
“Something like that,” I said. “Possible?”
“Anything’s possible,” he said. “But you’re getting into an area that would require an ordnance expert so they didn’t blow themselves up trying to rig the damn thing.”
“Which we can’t count on them not having. Lot of former military was attracted to these militia groups before everything went to shit.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I saw some of those same reports. So, sure, I guess they could make that work if they had the right personnel. But, from what the Master Chief showed me after they locked down the facility, that’s not going to punch through.
“Bunker busters don’t work by detonating on the surface of something. They’re designed to penetrate into rock or hardened concrete before exploding. The pressure wave is contained within the material and magnified. You know, kind of like a firecracker on your open palm, or in your closed fist. Which one’s going to fuck you up?”
I nodded, acknowledging he was right.
“So, as long as they can’t put a plane in the air, we shouldn’t have anything to be worried about,” I said.
“As far as I know,” he said, shrugging. “And, even then, they need to know what they’re doing to deliver the ordnance on target. We train on that kind of shit all the time. It’s not hard, once you know what to do and how to do it, but the first time out of the gate, even with classroom instruction, it’s harder than it looks.”
I looked up at Rachel and Irina who had been listening intently. They looked back at me but didn’t say anything.
“OK, let’s hope they don’t have some former fighter pilot in their ranks. So, what about that Buck Rogers airplane? Have a chance to look at it?”
“Yeah,” he said, the enthusiasm obvious in his voice. “That thing’s the cat’s ass, but we aren’t going anywhere in it.”
“Why not?”
“Two of the command modules are missing from the main computer. Probably got pulled for a software update, or debugging, or who knows what. No way to know. Something like that isn’t going to fly without everything working at a hundred percent.”
“So, even if we get the militia out of the way, we’ve got nothing to fly out of here.”