Islands of Rage and Hope (eARC)

by John Ringo

  "What's your preference for moving out your personnel, sir?" Faith said, waving to get away from the still cycling helo.

  "We'd prefer to load the women and children, first," Whiteshead said. "Along with a small military contingent. Then the rest of the men and the soldiers who are going out."

  "Oorah, sir," Faith said. "How many you got? We couldn't get a good count from the satellites. We only have occasional overhead and there's been weather."

  "One hundred twenty-three," Whiteshead said. "That are going out."

  "Any notable medical conditions other than pregnancy?" Faith said, making a note. "We've got a pretty good medic on the ship."

  "We've lost most of those," Whiteshead said, then paused. "Lieutenant, may I inquire..."

  "In another month I'm legal to marry in Arkansas," Faith said, looking up and grinning. "Thirteen is the answer, sir. Almost fourteen. I always get that question about now."

  "Bloody hell," Whiteshead said.

  "Tell you how bad it is," Faith said. "I'm number...six, I think, in the chain of command of the Marine Corps. Another bad day and I'm the commandant. If you're going out you'll meet the rest of the Marine Corps in the ship."

  "Did you bring a helo carrier?" Whiteshead asked.

  "Civilian oil platform supply ship," Faith said, making a note and not looking up. "The Grace Tan. And another support ship and a big yacht for the evacuees. The only LHA we know the location of is the Iwo Jima, and we don't have enough people to man it. Most of the Marines came from the Iwo or Gitmo. We're holding Gitmo right now. Took it last month. Stand by, sir.

  "Kodiak Ops, Kodiak Ops, Shewolf, over. Okay, Louisville it is. Count is one twenty-three, say again, one-two-three, coming out. No major medical. Malnourishment as usual. Three sorties should do it....Roger. You going to be able to get up on retrans any time soon? Roger...Shewolf, out.

  "Okay, sir, you're good to go. Look like the gunny's got the bird unloaded. Let's get to loading... Oh, hello," she finished as the prince walked up.

  "Captain Wales," Captain Whiteshead said. "Lieutenant Faith Smith, United States Marine Corps."

  "Thank you for coming to our assistance," Harry said, flashing a smile.

  "No problem," Faith said, shaking hands. "So far I've rescued a princess on a tower and a whole bunch of people who think they're important. You're my first prince so I can check that off on my bucket list. I'm hoping you're going out. We need helo pilots."

  "That is the plan," Prince Harry said, looking slightly confused for a moment. The response was, again, not what anyone would anticipate. The gunny had dubbed his reaction FEWSS: First Encounter With Seawolf Syndrome. "Lieutenant, is there any plan to pick up other survivors? We are sure there are some..."

  "Right now, no, sir," Faith said. "We've got one other mission planned which is to raid a research center for some vaccine production materials. That's planned for tomorrow. Then, as far as I know, we're going to float back to Gitmo. The priority right now is get the vaccine production up and get the sub crews vaccinated so we can get some trained personnel. You'll have to take up any further rescue ops with the colonel or higher, sir."

  "I...understand," Harry said. "Did you happen to see..."

  "Saw some on the way in, sir," Faith said. "Could you give me a second? I've got to coordinate with the gunny on the extract, sir."

  "Of course," Harry said. "Mission comes first."

  "Excuse me, sirs," Faith said, walking back to the bird.

  "Is she as young as she appears?" Harry asked as soon as she was out of earshot.

  "Thirteen," Whiteshead said. "Month shy of fourteen. And number six in the Marine chain of command. Which sort of covers how bad it is, sir. They're operating off of a civilian boat. No Navy platforms survived."

  "Bloody hell," Harry said, shaking his head.

  "Gunny," Faith said.

  "Ma'am," Gunny Sands said. "Last of this lift is onboard. They even had them chalked for a 53."

  "Good to hear," Faith said. "Let's get clear...Gunny, moment of your time?" she said, as they cleared the bird to let it lift off.

  "Ma'am?"

  "Could you please handle interacting with the prince?" Faith asked.

  "I...can, ma'am," Gunny Sands said. "But it would normally be the platoon leader's job."

  "I had to go all Marine or I was going to babble," Faith said.

  "If you would like the recommendation of your gunnery sergeant, ma'am," Sands said, trying not to smile, "stay all Marine."

  "I wanted to meet him, now I'm trying not to act like a brain-dead cheerleader," Faith said, grinning tightly. "I don't do this well. Where's some infected to shoot?"

  "Tomorrow, ma'am," Gunny Sands said. "All you can wish for, unless I miss my guess."

  "Oorah," Faith said, walking back over to the two officers. "Thanks for having them chalked up."

  The Gurkha guards were busy getting the rations stored in the White Tower and the Marines were getting names of the evacuees. All was in order so she sort of had to make small talk.

  "Not a problem," Captain Whiteshead said. "We assumed it would be Marines or Navy coming in so it would probably be Super Stallions, according to Captain Wales."

  "So what's with the Captain Wales, thing?" Faith asked.

  "Captain Mountbatten-Windsor sounds sort of pompous, don't you think?" Harry asked, grinning.

  "I dunno," Faith said. "Is it your name?"

  "Yes?" Harry said.

  "Then it's just your name," Faith said.

  "May I inquire why you carry a kukri, Lieutenant?" Captain Whiteshead said to fill in the pause.

  "'Cause they're good for cutting off the hands of infected that grab me," Faith said. "Good for necks, too. Either direction."

  "Have you had much of an...opportunity...?" Captain Wales asked.

  "There's kind of a video that covers that," Faith said. "Sir. How many people are you holding back? I'm asking for two reasons. One, is it enough to hold the perimeter, and two, we could use more troops. We sort of shanghaied some Dutch Marines from Statia but there's a big fucking world to clear."

  "How much of it have you cleared?" Harry asked.

  "Ten liners, two super-max, the rest ranging down, one helo carrier, sort-of cleared six towns in the Canary Islands," Faith said, ticking off her fingers. "Bunch of piddly freighters and oil tankers. One oil platform. Gitmo and three...no, four islands in the Caribbean. St. Barts and Saba are only half-ass cleared. Anguilla and Statia are sort of chartreuse, maybe lime green. Still some betas running around but all the alphas are seagull bait."

  "And how much of that have you been involved in, Lieutenant?" a new officer asked. He had a thick accent and was clearly a Gurkha.

  "Captain Dattahadur Thapa, Lieutenant Faith Smith," Captain Whiteshead said.

  "Sir," Faith said, nodding. "And pretty much all of it, sir. I've been clearing in the Atlantic since before we hooked up with the Navy, sir. Over eight thousand hours combat time in the last nine months. Starting in New York, sir. Like I said to these gentlemen, there's a video. So, again, how many troops are we getting? 'Cause we're really bleeding for troops."

  "Seventy-two," Captain Thapa replied. "We're leaving twenty-six including myself and the chief warder. Will that do?"

  "It'll help," Faith said, making another note. "Hell, we'll be outnumbered. As soon as we get them back in shape. And retrain them on clearance."

  "Retrain Gurkhas, Lieutenant?" Captain Whiteshead said, smiling in amusement.

  "Fighting infected ain't the same as fighting people, Captain," Faith said, looking him in the eye. "If you use the techniques you use fighting people, you get in the scrum. Which is fun, don't get me wrong; bashing heads with a Halligan tool and chopping necks is what makes the job worth doing. But it ain't getting the mission done. So, yes, sir, retrain Gurkhas, sir. Just like I had to retrain an SF sergeant and all my Marines, sir. Although at least Gurkhas know how to use a knife when they get in the scrum, sir. Which is when you really need a kukri
. Nothing better for cutting off hands. Except a machete, maybe."

  "I...see," Whiteshead said.

  "May I inquire what the badge is, Lieutenant?" Thapa said after a moment.

  "Master Boarder Badge, sir," Faith said. "Struck post-Plague. Nine million feet of belowdecks cleared of infected, sir."

  "Nine million?" Harry said.

  "Estimated, sir," Faith said. "I got it after only two super-max cruise ships, the Iwo and a couple of piddly ones. I'm not sure it was well thought out, sir. Stand by..." She held her earbud and nodded. "Roger. Understood. Bird's on its way back."

  "Where is the ship?" Captain Whiteshead asked.

  "Mouth of the river, sir," Faith said, thumbing over her shoulder. "It's nothing but wrecks from one end to the other, sir. Couldn't safely get any closer. We talked about doing a water insertion but we had the helo so..."

  "Even getting through to the Traitors' Gate would be tough," Harry said.

  "I have, trust me, done crazier shit, sir," Faith said. "But we had the helo so we took the easy way. I've got to do a rope insertion tomorrow and I'm still arguing for fighting our way in on foot. Do not like rope insertions. Stand by, please, sirs. Gunny! Bird's on the way back! Chalk 'em up!"

  "Aye, aye, ma'am," Gunnery Sergeant Sands yelled.

  "You guys okay for ammo?" Faith asked. "We've got a bird coming back after this and we use Barbie ammo if you need some."

  "Barbie ammo?" Captain Whiteshead said, confused.

  "Sorry, sir," Faith said, tapping her M4. "Five-five-six. Also seven-six-two. Barbie ammo for five-five-six 'cause it's a Barbie gun," she said, tapping the weapon again. "And it don't kill infected for shit. I'm carrying my Saiga tomorrow. Stand by... Kodiak, Shewolf, over... Need the ammo drop... Roger... GUNNY!"

  "Ma'am?"

  "Ammo drop coming in on this bird! Get some bodies!"

  "Aye, aye, ma'am!"

  "Figures the colonel would anticipate me," Faith said.

  "Can you cover some of the conditions outside, Lieutenant?" Harry asked. "Do you know...anything about the rest of the Royal Family?"

  "We have a pretty good report, fairly confirmed, that your grandmother passed away, sir," Faith said gently. "Pneumonia from a non H7 influenza. I'm sorry for your loss never cuts it, but...sorry for your loss."

  "I see," Harry said, shaking his head.

  "Other than that," Faith said, shrugging. "We've got about four thousand or so that we've picked up one place or another. Started with small boats and life rafts, then liners and small towns. If we can get the vaccine produced we can vaccinate the sub crews and that'll be another four thousand or so. We just...find people. And get the ones that want to help helping. We sort of dumped most of the people we found in the Caribbean on Statia. Most. Oh, you may know some princess named...Shit..." She stopped and pawed through her notebook. "I just call her Rapunzel...long story...Julianna Gustavason?"

  "Julianna survived," Harry said, nodding. "That is good to hear."

  "Also some other actresses and stuff," Faith said. "Found them on St. Barts. Anna Holmes for one. Anna's actually along on the float. But...the world is a very screwed up place. Just got to keep pushing the ball. The more people you have, the more you can do. We couldn't have done this two months ago. Well, we probably would have figured out a way. We do. Okay, I suppose I should start with: "There are three command posts left, American, Russian and Chinese. American is the Hole in Omaha. The NCCC is Under Secretary Galloway who was something like a hundred something on the list. Russian and Chinese are similar. You're the most senior people we've found of the Brits. We've got one former...congressman sort of? Like military police?"

  "Member of Parliament?" Whiteshead asked. "MP?"

  "That's it," Faith said. "One of them. Most of the subs were uncontaminated and they're closed up. They're surviving on fish. No serious land areas cleared. There are some people forming in various places but...you gotta have a lot of ammo to clear much land and even civilians in the U.S. don't have enough. And we got a lot, trust me. We had ten thousand rounds when we started and it burned up fast. My dad is LantFleet which is, yeah, part of the reason I'm an officer. The other reason is I've been doing this since right after the Fall and I'm getting okay at it, I suppose..."

  CHAPTER 31

  He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;

  He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat:

  Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!

  Our God is marching on.

  (chorus)

  --"The Battle Hymn of the Republic"

  "Permission to poke my head in the cockpit?" Harry asked.

  The last lift was going out. Staying behind were twenty Gurkhas and ten Warders. The Warders were all former military, all veterans and all determined that whatever happened, the Tower would remain in British hands.

  "Grab the jumpseat," Colonel Kuznetsov said, pointing to it. "Colonel Nikifor Kuznetsov, Your Highness."

  "Pleasure to meet you, Colonel," Harry said.

  "Captain Milo Wilkes," Wilkes said. He was piloting the bird. "Pleasure to have you aboard, sir."

  "Very glad to be out of there, Captain," Harry said. "I shouldn't feel that way but being trapped like that was...unsettling."

  "You're the first people we've pulled out of a city," Wilkes said. "It's...unpleasant. I can't believe the fire damage."

  "It is...worse than I'd realized," Harry said, looking at the torched landscape. "But there are survivors."

  "A few, sir," Wilkes said, pointing to the side with his chin. "We've passed this group three times. I'm sure they're getting annoyed."

  "Can we pick them up?" Harry asked.

  "I'm going to request we be allowed to as a supplementary mission from the colonel, sir," Wilkes said. "That one, at least. But not right now we can't. From the looks of it, we'd have to winch someone down and then winch them back up. We can do it. We have the equipment. But it's not part of the primary mission."

  "With a helo and some support we could pick up pretty much everyone," Harry said. "Most of them had to access rooftops to survive."

  "Like Katrina," Wilkes said, nodding. "I didn't work it but I knew people who did. Marine Reserve picked up more people than the Coast Guard. But it would take a lot of support. You'd need somewhere to keep them, food, and...Lots of logistics, sir."

  "There is that," Harry said, grinding his teeth. "But these are my people, Colonel. In a very real sense. It's possible I'm their sovereign if the reports of Grandmum's death are accurate. I need to do something."

  "Take that up with higher, sir," Wilkes said, banking around. "It's possible they'll support it. Or give you support to support it. Until the subs are vaccinated, though, we're sort of focused."

  "You cleared in the Caribbean," Harry said.

  "We were looking for vaccine materials, sir," Wilkes said. "Give me a moment, would you? Winds are tricky..."

  "Welcome aboard, Captain," Colonel Hamilton said, shaking the prince's hand. "We're sort of crowded at the moment but we've got a room for you below. Although I'm sure you'd like to get some food in your belly..."

  "We can do that," Hamilton said, nodding. "The one group, at least. I'll have Captain Wilkes schedule it for later this afternoon."

  "Is there any possibility of staying in the area to do more recovery?" Harry asked. "That's an official question of the British government."

  He was sipping soup. They'd been on very short rations for a very long time, and as other survivors had, he needed something light to start.

  "Our first and primary mission is recovering some supplies from the London Research Center," Hamilton said carefully. "After that...it would be up to higher. But let me point out that what holds for London holds for every city in the world. There are survivors. There are survivors everywhere. With helos you can pick some of them up. But we only have two pilots, three with you, and one fully functioning helo. The other is ready for a test hop but...Logisti
cs. Support. Especially for the helos. Do you have any other pilots?"

  "No," Harry said, frowning. "We have one more helo, though. I flew it in on my own. It's tucked up against the wall in the Tower. Getting it fueled and supported, though...And it's not very good for rescue. It's a Lynx. Only a few people at a time."

  "That's all you generally get, Captain," Hamilton said. "Hang on. Sergeant."

  "Sir?" Sergeant Weisskopf said.

  "Tell Captain Wilkes he's authorized to pick up the survivors spotted on the way to the Tower," Hamilton said. "Assuming the bird is still good. And he'll need a detail with it. Take Januscheitis and his team."

  "Yes, sir," Weisskopf said, leaving the compartment.

  "Thank you, Colonel," Harry said.

  "It's not outside our parameters," Hamilton said, frowning. "There should be something we can do...I hate to do this. PFC!"

  "Sir?"

  "Get Shewolf and Seawolf in here," Hamilton said.

  "Shewolf was the young lieutenant we met at the Tower, sir?" Captain Whiteshead asked.

  "And her sister, Sophia," Hamilton said. "They are...green as grass and yet far more experienced at this than I am."

  "And...cold, sir?" Harry said. "She seemed very...flat."

  "Faith is..." Hamilton said. "You'll have to see the introduction to Wolf Squadron video to even begin to comprehend either one of them. And it really doesn't cover it."

  "You sent for me, sir?" Sophia said, sticking her head in the door.

  "Grab a seat, Ensign," Hamilton said. "Have you met Captain Whiteshead and Captain...Wales...?"

  "Can the platform on the Social Alpha handle that other chopper?" Faith said as the conversation paused. She'd spent most of the last ten minutes sitting with her mouth shut, leaning on her hand.

  "Yes," Prince Harry said. "Probably."

  "Whatever," Faith said. "Reinforce it. The Grace has got a machine shop. You can fly the helo off from there or at least support it."

  "That is a point," Colonel Hamilton said. "Assuming we're willing to give up the Social Alpha."