Project Terminus

by Nathan Combs

  “We all know Jackson has lost it. He’s crazier than a shithouse rat. And trust me, he’s lost all sense of reality. He’s unstable and dangerous as hell. I know you guys would like to take him down, but there are problems. First of all, he has a hostage. No one’s seen Susan since he took her, and I don’t believe he’d think twice about using her as a bargaining chip. But the bigger problem is that if we attempted a coup and failed, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill our families. In his mind, they’d be guilty by association.

  “I just came from seeing him and I’ve come up with a plan to take him out. It’s not going to be easy, and it’s going to require some luck and some help. Actually, a lot of help from those SPECOPS guys.”

  Benjamin stood and started pacing. “Get twelve of the guys we trust and pack them up, full battle dress. Don’t tell them anything.”

  Tyler grinned. “Well, that’ll be easy, Boss, because you haven’t told us anything.”

  “I’ll fill you in when we’re on the road. And take something we can use as a white flag…a big one. And for God’s sake, don’t let anyone see it. I want everyone mounted, ready to go, at the gates, in forty-five minutes.”

  “Can we say goodbye to our families,” asked Watts.

  “Yeah, but make it brief. We have to get out of here before his majesty sees who’s going on this mission. We’ll be gone less than a week. And don’t worry, everyone’s coming back.”

  Forty-five minutes later, fifteen former FPS officers headed towards Robbinsville.

  ******

  Forty-eight hours later, Tyler Little Soldier led them down Tapoco Road through Robbinsville and started towards Fort Terminus. Twenty miles and three hours later, within two miles of the service road, he called a halt, and they rested and watered the horses.

  Thirty minutes later, the patrol mounted up and Benjamin affixed a white flag on a pole and attached it to Little Soldier’s saddle.

  ******

  The EOP radioed Wade he had fifteen unknowns on horseback, approaching from Robbinsville, but stationary two clicks out.

  Randal responded, “Roger, EOP, we’re on the way.”

  Ten minutes later, there were fifteen shooters covering the service road and one in the new sniper hide.

  “Zeus, this is EOP. Subjects are dressed in full DHS battledress, but flying a white flag.”

  “Roger, EOP.”

  “Zeus, this is EOP. They’re entering the forest service road.”

  Wade said, “Roger, EOP.”

  Minutes later, Chris radioed from the new sniper hide that the patrol was less than two hundred yards from where Wade and Randal hunkered down in the brush on opposite sides of the trail.

  When the horsemen were within twenty yards of Randal, he calmly stepped out and held up his hand.

  They stopped.

  “You’re covered from all sides. One wrong move and you’re dead. Who are you and what do you want?”

  Benjamin kept his hands in plain view and said, “My name’s Captain Stuart Benjamin, and these are my men. We’re former Federal Protective Services. We’re guarding the Oak Ridge National Laboratory in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, west of Knoxville.”

  “I know where the ORNL is, Captain. What are you doing here?”

  “We have a problem we were hoping you could help us with, sir.”

  Randal said, “Tell your men to dismount, carefully.”

  Looking over his shoulder to his men, Benjamin said, “Do as he says.” Then to Randal he said, “We are not a threat to you or your families.”

  Randal said, “Lay your weapons, including side arms and helmets, on the ground and take three steps forward; then sit legs crossed, fingers interlocked, and hands on the top of your heads.”

  The men complied immediately.

  He radioed, “EOP, report.”

  “All clear, Thor.”

  “Roger, EOP. Hide, report.”

  “All clear, Thor.”

  After the all clear, Bill and Cole emerged from the bushes, collected the weapons, and took up positions behind the sitting FPS men.

  Wade joined Randal, and said to Benjamin, “Talk.”

  Benjamin gave them an encapsulated version of what transpired after the SHTF, including the relevant information about King Jackson, and especially the shooting of Captain Martinez. He explained the extortion of survival communities, ending with, “In short, Jackson is a dangerous psychotic. We want to take him down, but we’re vastly outnumbered. These men here,” he nodded towards the seated troopers, “plus three I couldn’t bring along, are the only ones I can trust. The ORNL has a nuclear power plant with enough fuel to last at least another twenty years, and with Jackson out of the picture, we can house everyone who wants to come and can kick start civilization. If we go up against Jackson alone, he’ll kill our families and us. We need help.”

  Randal looked at the sitting men and said, “You men can put your hands down and sit at ease.” Turning back to Captain Benjamin he said, “Before we go any further, I want to know how you found us.”

  “Jackson wanted more subjects and more taxes for ‘the crown’ and he ordered me to send a patrol into North Carolina to find some. I sent two of my men,” he nodded towards Little Soldier and Watts. “It would probably be easier if Tyler explained how he found you. Is that okay?”

  Wade nodded.

  Benjamin turned to Little Soldier and said, “Tyler.”

  Little Soldier told them about watching the events in Robbinsville and how the football field blew up just as they were arriving.

  “I only followed you to your OP. I was afraid you’d see me if I went any farther, and I didn’t know exactly where your camp was, who you were, or how many you were, so I went back to Robbinsville and returned to the ORNL. I’m curious, can I ask who those people on the football field were?”

  “Cannibals.”

  Benjamin explained the dilemma he faced about telling Jackson of the existence of Fort-T, and how he played to Jackson’s ego in order to get him to agree to allow this patrol. “He wanted to send in the troops to take you down, but I convinced him to let me come here and salvage your group as new subjects capable of filling the king’s coffers. He thinks I’m here demanding that you remit your share of taxes and pay homage to his throne.”

  Wade asked, “Just exactly how do you want us to help you? I assume you have a plan or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “I do. For the record, I’m a sergeant. Jackson made me a captain after he murdered Captain Martinez. May I ask who you are, sir?”

  “You can ask, sergeant, but until I buy your story, I’m just a guy with a gun.”

  “Okay, that’s fair enough. I’m not asking you to help us assault the security team and take Jackson out. And after you hear my plan, you may want to tweak it, but before I lay it out, I need to know if you have the capability to take out a Bradley?”

  “Jackson has a Bradley?”

  “He has two actually, plus three Hummers with fifties and enough diesel-fuel to run them for a long time. If you can’t take out armor, then my plan won’t have much of a chance.”

  “Assuming we did have that capability, sergeant, what does your plan consist of?”

  Randal’s response told Benjamin he could take out Jackson’s armor, and he said, “All right, assuming you could take out a Humvee and maybe one Bradley, this is what I’m proposing. The size of Jackson’s ego is off the charts. So, I’ll go back and tell him I met with you, and told you that you would have to pay your fair share of taxes or suffer the consequences. I’ll jazz it up and tell him you said he wasn’t your king, but if he wanted you to pay taxes, he could get his candy ass out here and tell you to your face. I’ll tell him you have twenty people, a lot of food, but very little capability to resist. I’ll simply play to his ego. You know, like, you’re one of those macho types who refuses to recognize the new order of things. He’ll buy it, and he’ll be apoplectic. I guarantee you, he’ll issue an immediate order to bring the troops out here and take you o
ut. I’m absolutely positive he’ll come himself. The dipshit honestly believes he’s a king, and I’m pretty sure he’ll want to ride in the hummer, but he’ll probably want to bring a Bradley too. I’ll try to convince him the Bradley would be overkill, and that the Hummer would be more than enough. But I don’t know if he’ll buy that, so the plan has to include the Bradley. I’ll suggest we take seventy-five men to present an overwhelming show of force and so if there is a firefight, it’ll be short and sweet. He has no tactical expertise at all, so he’ll do whatever I say needs to be done.

  “That would leave twenty-five men to guard the ORNL. I’ll make sure most of those men are comprised of some that I trust, or at least those I’m not sure of. My men and I will wear a distinctive color in case things go south, just so you don’t accidentally shoot our asses. I’ll set it up so the men I’m conflicted about will wear a different color. The men I know are loyal to Jackson won’t display a color. They’ll be in black. That’s about as far as I’ve taken the plan. I need your help with the rest of it.”

  Wade said, “Sergeant, do you have any idea how many variables have to come together for that plan to have a chance of success?”

  “Yes, sir, I do, but we’re getting desperate, and I’m reasonably certain the script will unfold along the lines I laid out. I just need some help with the ending.”

  “Give us a minute, Sergeant,” said Wade.

  Wade and Randal walked out of earshot. Randal grinned as he spoke. “What do you think, Dad?”

  Wade grinned back. “Well the first order of business, is…is he telling the truth?”

  Randal thought for a second. “No guarantees, but it’s hard to imagine him coming all the way out here, putting himself and his men at risk by concocting a story like that, if it wasn’t true. I don’t see what he could gain by making this up.”

  “I agree. Let’s go talk to him some more.”

  Wade said to Benjamin, “That’s a hell of a tale, Sergeant. Did I see that movie?”

  Benjamin grinned. “I don’t think so, sir. It’s still in production.”

  Wade smiled back. “Okay, Sergeant, assume for the moment I buy your story and that we have the ability to take out both a Humvee and a Bradley. What happens when Jackson gets here and demands we pay him his due and I tell him to go pack sand?”

  “Yeah…my guess is he’ll take a moment to digest that, and then probably order his guys to shoot you. If he’s standing in the Humvee, like I think he’ll be, I’ll take him out myself before he can give the command. If that happens, I’m not sure what the response from his men will be. I think the majority of them will go whichever way they think the wind is going to blow, but that’s definitely an unknown. The point is, without Jackson as an obstacle, I can regain control of the security forces and open up the ORNL to survivors as soon as possible. They’re really hurting.” Benjamin’s face scrunched up with what appeared to be genuine concern.

  “Here’s the rub, sir. Even if his men do nothing, I can’t keep them around. I could never trust them, and I’d end up spending too much time watching my six. I certainly don’t want to kill them, we can’t imprison them, and letting them go isn’t a good option either. The last thing we need is to have them return as a capable force and try to take over. There’s also the question of those men I’m not sure of. We can’t afford to make a mistake and trust one we shouldn’t have trusted. So, I’m afraid the full script for this story hasn’t been written yet.”

  Wade and Randal looked at each other and with a grin, Wade offered Benjamin his hand. “Captain Wade Coltrane, SEALs. This is my son, Captain Randal Coltrane, Green Berets. We’re going to help you, Sergeant, but your plan definitely needs to be tweaked. Here’s what we’re going to do. For starters, I don’t want this moron anywhere near here. The color codes you mentioned are fine, and I suggest they be placed on the front of your helmets. Make it red for the good guys and yellow for the questionable ones. How you make that happen is up to you. Just make sure they’re visible. We can take out Jackson’s armor, no problem. If Jackson’s riding in the Humvee, he’ll be an easy target, and one of my guys will take him down. That might end it right there. We won’t take any chances with his men. They blink, they’re dead.”

  Benjamin snapped his fingers and said, “Damn, I forgot…Jackson took a queen against her will a couple of weeks ago. Her name’s Susan Small. She’s one of the nuclear people. He’ll probably insist she come with him because he never lets her out of his sight. He’s afraid she’ll get happy feet. I’m guessing she’ll be in the Humvee with him. He might even force her to drive it.”

  “What are you suggesting, Sergeant?”

  “Nothing, sir, I’d just hate to see her become collateral damage.”

  Wade was silent for a moment, then nodding said, “All right, we’ll figure out what to do about her if and when she comes. If he brings a Bradley, make sure none of your guys are inside. And if possible, keep everyone out of the Humvee too. I’m assuming everyone not in the Hummer or the Bradley will be on horseback?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Okay, Little Soldier will have to lead the way, but if possible, you and the rest of your men bring up the rear. I’m not going to count on the color codes, but if you make it happen, reds in the rear, yellows in the middle, and blacks in front. If you can’t swing it, don’t worry about it. We’ll handle it. This will go down on the blacktop, two clicks back, where you rested your horses. We’ll take him out there and deal with whatever happens when he’s out of the picture. If his men resist, they’ll be killed. What time frame are we looking at?”

  Benjamin said, “Two days back to the ORNL. Make it a half-day for him to organize, and two days back, so four to four and a half days.”

  “We’ll be in position. And, Sergeant, you’re right. The issue of what to do with his troops and their families is a big time problem. Give that some serious thought.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  All the King’s Men

  Addressing the Terminators and several of the women, Wade said, “I believe Sergeant Benjamin told us the truth about Jackson. It’s in the best interests of what’s left of humanity to remove Jackson from the equation. And it goes without saying, a settlement eighty miles distant with a functional nuclear power plant throws the door to civilization wide open. However, Benjamin’s plan is too complicated and involves too many variables.

  “What if Jackson doesn’t come? What if he brings all three hummers and both Bradleys? What if Benjamin can’t find a way to get the color codes on the helmets? The list of what ifs goes on and on. Regardless, they’ll be back here in about four days, and while we are going to help, the takedown isn’t happening anywhere near Fort-T. This op is moving to Robbinsville. They’ll be coming down this highway,” he pointed to the road on the sat-map. “Little Soldier will lead them through town and up Snowbird Road. We’ll be waiting here.” He circled an area on the map about a mile from the intersection of Snowbird Road and Hwy 143 with the tip of his finger.

  “I want all sniper rifles in play, and we’re taking five of the AT4s in case he sends all his armor.” Circling the take down area, he said, “We’re going to place claymores here, here, and here, and C4 pipe bombs here. With any luck, this goes down without a fight. I want six men to remain here to protect Fort-T. Let’s get packed up. Bill, make up the watch list.”

  ******

  Stopping out of sight of the ORNL, Benjamin gathered his men to go over the plan one last time. “You all know what to do,” he said. “The rest is up to Jackson. Let’s hope he doesn’t throw us a curveball.”

  Minutes later, they entered the ORNL. Benjamin sent his men to the barracks while he went directly to the palace. The palace door guard nodded to him and told him to go ahead, that Jackson was expecting him. The resident guard opened the door for him and he entered to find Jackson waiting in the sitting room.

  “It’s about time, Stuart. I trust you have good news?”

  “Not exactly, sir.
I did meet with them and their leader told me to tell you, and I quote, ‘Tell him I said to go fuck himself.’”

  Jackson was beyond irate. “He told you to tell me what?”

  Benjamin played the part. “The man is extremely arrogant, sire. He said you weren’t his king, but if you wanted him to pay taxes you could bring your chicken-shit ass out there and tell him yourself. He also told me to tell you to that you were an impotent little prick.”

  Jackson was pacing like a caged tiger and spittle flew from his mouth. Eyes bulging from their sockets, he staggered around the room shaking his head in disbelief.

  Benjamin set the hook. “It took every ounce of will-power I had not to shoot him on the spot, your majesty. I wanted to, but I didn’t want to deprive you of the pleasure.”

  Jackson stopped pacing and glared at Benjamin. “How the fuck can I shoot him from here, Benjamin?”

  “I’m sorry, your majesty. I assumed you’d want to go and take care of him yourself.”

  Jackson was suddenly as calm as the eye of a storm and stopped pacing. “Well, you shouldn’t assume, Benjamin, because it makes an ass out of you and me.” He laughed manically. “Get it, Benjamin? It makes an ass out of you and me? I just made that up, and it’s funny as hell. Why aren’t you laughing?”

  Oh my God, thought Benjamin. He’s totally off the rails. Forcing himself to chuckle, he said, “That is funny, your majesty. Actually, it’s hilarious. But, Sire, what do you want me to do about these guys?”

  “Do? Do? What the fuck do you think I want you to do, Benjamin? I want you to get your fat ass back out there and bring me this prick’s head. I want you to bring me his head on a platter—a big platter…a big silver platter. Bring me his head on a big, fucking, silver platter. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, of course I can, your Majesty.”

  “Well, why haven’t you left yet?”

  Benjamin returned to his office and called for Little Soldier and Watts. When they arrived, he told them what happened.