by Bobby Akart
“I have to agree with Miss Lucy,” added Preacher. “Duncan and his men are fixin’ to flush the vermin out of their hidey-holes. The easy routes would be to head back to the border, where they’d run into the arms of the military, which is still rounding up refugees. Or they could head south toward Big Spring to get on major highways and disappear in a flash.”
“Or they come straight to our place,” added Lucy.
“Okay, okay,” started Major, trying to calm everyone, including himself, down. “Duncan’s after them much quicker than they probably anticipated. He’ll probably take them out in Patricia. By the way, I don’t use the term take out loosely. He has no intentions of taking prisoners.”
“Nor did they, it appears,” said Preacher.
“Very true,” continued Major. “That said, we need to be ready. The first order of business is to warn the patrols of the situation. We need to place extra emphasis on the western and southern fences from the Reinecke Unit, past the guard tower, and over toward the river. One thing we have going for us is the fact that there isn’t a direct road from the ranch to Patricia. You really have to know how to zigzag on the county roads, some of which are just hard-packed gravel. It would be a slow getaway, and I hope, under the circumstances, they’d take the easier routes to the west or south.”
“I’ll take care of the patrols,” said Preacher. “Can we use the girls, too?”
All eyes were on Lucy, who had shielded Palmer and Sook from guard duty for the more dangerous side of the ranch. She finally gave her reply. “I have confidence in both of them, so yes, they can assist. But don’t put them on the front line, you know, the guard tower or the western fence. How about pull Antonio’s men from the barnyard and let the girls handle that? They’ll be able to quickly respond from there if necessary.”
“All right,” said Major. “The next thing we need to do is get the generators cranked up. Preacher, tell the ranch hands to eat their perishable foods as quickly as possible. For those who have generators, starting at eight o’clock this morning, run them following a four on, four off basis until their refrigerated foods are gone. We’ll be doing the same here. Also, make sure they charge their radios, power tools, and rechargeable batteries while the generators are running. We can manage our fuel this way while not losing any food.”
Lucy nodded. “I’ll get the generators ready for our refrigerated and frozen foods also. Major, should I prepare the bunkers just in case? I worry about the women and children if the ranch comes under attack. Honey, they’re defenseless.”
Major thought for a moment and knew Lucy was right. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with hiding everyone in one place for a situation like this. The bunkers were impenetrable to nuclear attack, but marauders could find ways to cut off their air supplies or use fear to force them out if they located the hatch, by relentlessly pounding on it.
“Okay, get it ready, but it’s a last resort, Miss Lucy. I’d rather take them to the east woods and some of the vacant houses around the lake if we have time. The key is to get ready.”
The three of them pushed away from the table when Preacher asked, “Have y’all considered asking Duncan to come home? His gun is like five of ours.”
Major sighed and reached for Lucy’s hand. He squeezed it and replied, “I’ve thought about that every moment since the phone rang earlier. His being away has been stressful enough. I never imagined we’d be fighting the North Koreans on Texas soil.”
“Honey, I agree with all of that, but at what point do we decide to be selfish and take care of our own instead of risking everything for Texas?”
Major closed his eyes and shook his head. He wished he knew the answer.
Chapter 42
January 21
The Mansion
Austin, Texas
President Marion Burnett stood alone in her dark office, staring across the cityscape of Austin, which sat in complete darkness. Only the generator-produced lighting around the Mansion’s perimeter could be seen after the ERCOT grid collapsed. She’d been awakened by her assistant after explosions at the Comanche Peak nuclear facility had been reported to Fort Worth law enforcement. They in turn contacted the National Guard, but by then, the word of the coordinated assault on the ERCOT grid was known throughout Texas.
She was not quite in shock, but a state of despair had overcome her. Her office, cold from lack of heat, caused a chill to overcome her, and her mind immediately went to her counterpart in Washington, President Alani Harman. She now knew how the U.S. president had felt when the EMP struck. Disbelief, confusion, despair, and desolation were all appropriate characterizations of the wave of emotions that had overcome her in the last hour.
A gentle tapping at her office door and then a slight opening flooded her room with light. The voice of her chief of staff followed the entry of the yellowish glow.
“Madam President, you can turn your lights on. The generators have been operable for some time.”
“I know,” said the president. “I just wasn’t ready for it.”
“Okay, um, Madam President, Adjutant General Deur is here to speak with you. He says it’s urgent.”
“Of course it is,” she said sarcastically. Burnett took a deep breath and exhaled. She felt alone. “Sure, turn on the lights and send him in. I need coffee, too, please. It’s time to pull up my big-girl panties.” Burnett laughed at her last comment, a phrase that was a throwback to her younger days.
Her chief of staff flipped on the lights, surprising Burnett’s vision and forcing her to close her eyes momentarily. When she opened them, Deur had entered the room along with two of his aides, including an attractive woman Burnett had seen before.
“Good morning, Kregg,” she greeted the entourage as she made her way to her desk.
“Good morning, Madam President,” said Deur. “I have with me Colonel Sanderson with the Texas Quick Reaction Force headquartered at Fort Hood and Pauline Hart, deputy adjutant general in charge of clandestine affairs.”
The president returned the salute of Sanderson and then reached across her desk to shake hands with Hart. She took a closer look at the woman and recognized her. “I think we’ve met, have we not?”
Hart replied, “Yes, ma’am. It was at the Christmas Ball here in the Mansion year before last. I’m Kregg’s sister-in-law.”
“Yes, I remember,” said Burnett. She looked over to Deur and then back to Hart. “Pauline, I apologize if I’m speaking inappropriately, I don’t profess to know everyone who works in third- and fourth-tier positions within my government. Did I hear correctly? You’re the head of clandestine affairs?”
“Yes, Madam President. My last position with the United States government made me uniquely qualified for the position Kregg needed filled.”
“Plus,” interrupted Deur, “as my family, I know I can trust her.”
The president shrugged and motioned for all of them to sit down. Her chief of staff arrived with coffee, and the comforting aroma had an immediate calming effect.
“Okay, Kregg, how bad is it?” asked the president.
“Madam President, there are many details to fill in, and I promise you a comprehensive report as soon as I gather information from across the country. What I can confirm is that the ERCOT electrical generating and distribution network has been compromised. Based upon initial reports, while the impact on the system is not nearly as devastating as the electromagnetic pulse attack on the U.S. power grid, we suffered a comparable failure.”
“North Koreans did this?” she asked.
Deur nodded to Hart, who provided the response. “Yes, Madam President. Eyewitnesses and members of the QRF team in Lubbock have confirmed that the attack was planned and carried out by North Korean operatives known as the Lightning Death Squads. These are special ops soldiers trained by Kim’s regime to counter our Delta and SEAL teams. I plan on debriefing the commander at Camp Lubbock, who interrogated two commandos after the attack on their base.”
Colonel Sanderson s
at up in his seat. “I was instrumental in the hiring of Commander Armstrong and know this young man to be levelheaded. I would trust his assessment implicitly.”
The president looked to Deur. “Major’s son?”
“Yes, ma’am. He was suggested for the position because of his proximity to Lubbock and his experience in the U.S. military.”
“What measures have we taken as a result of this blindside?” asked the president.
“Our response will be overwhelming and comprehensive,” said Deur. “The military has deployed troops to the major population centers as an early show of force and control. As the sun rises across the country and Texans learn of the attacks, we want them to know their government is ready to respond.”
“Your first order of business is to establish control so people don’t get out of hand,” interjected the president. “My earlier martial law declaration covered this, right?”
“If I may, ma’am,” started Colonel Sanderson, “the TX-QRF will handle crowd control and population outbursts in the smaller cities while lending a hand to local law enforcement in protecting the remaining critical infrastructure, such as water utilities.”
“Are they still operating?” asked the president.
“To an extent,” replied Sanderson. “Gravity-fed water towers are constructed at a height sufficient to pressurize a small town’s water supply for a period of time based upon its capacity and the town’s usage. Most of the water towers exceed six thousand gallons in capacity that, if allocated properly, can supply water to most towns for two weeks.”
“Two weeks,” said the president. “Then what?”
Deur took back over the conversation. “That’s part of what we’ll need to address, ma’am. In addition to keeping calm in the streets, we need to undertake a widespread educational program to teach people how to survive without our critical infrastructure. Based upon the extent of the damage inflicted upon ERCOT, it will take many months or even years to restore power to all parts of Texas.”
“What about the enemy? What are we doing to hunt them down?”
“It’s difficult to ascertain their goals at this time,” replied Hart. “After the nuclear attacks and counterattacks, it’s doubtful that the Kim regime would have the military wherewithal to deploy an occupying force in North America. An invading army would most likely seek to kill ninety percent of the target country’s citizens and enslave the rest in some manner. To wipe out the entire population would leave them with a Pyrrhic victory at best.”
“What are they doing here?” asked the president.
Deur responded, “This appears to be more of an insurgency action designed to prevent recovery and destroy the will of the people, both in America and Texas. In January, food storage levels were starting to dwindle while alternative fuel resources like oil and coal were already in short supply.”
“May I add one more thing?” asked Hart.
The president gestured for her to go ahead.
“Throughout the Southwestern United States and Texas, there is a substantial population of illegal aliens that might turn against the citizenry of both countries. Old hostilities might create new alliances, much like an angry fifth column. Madam President, the axiom the enemy of my enemy is my friend has been around for a long time. I would advise you to be aware of an uprising from this segment of the populace.”
“Great, we get to refight Santa Anna,” quipped President Burnett.
“In my opinion,” Colonel Sanderson added, “the North Koreans are trying to make a point. Their fight with the United States—and by prior association, Texas—is based upon pride and principle. U.S. foreign policy beat them down for decades. In their mind, a level playing field has been created although their country has been leveled by our nuclear weapons. For these Lightning Death Squad commandos, they consider themselves a moral force, using the term of Carl von Clausewitz, the Prussian general who wrote about war in the early 1800s. They fight based on ideology, not out of a sense of duty pursuant to the orders of their commanders.”
President Burnett shook her head and rolled her eyes. “How do you defend a country against insanity? Terrorists taught us that people are willing to die for their religious beliefs. These commandos are willing to die and inflict death upon others because of their allegiance to a dictator and his ideology.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Colonel Sanderson.
“Well, we Texans have somethin’ for ’em,” continued President Burnett before she paused to take a big gulp of coffee from her Rangers mug. “We’ll show them that we’re Texas strong, from the youngest among us all the way to the occupant of this office. Here’s what we’re gonna do.”
Chapter 43
January 21
Vealmoor, Texas
“Do you see that ranch over there?” asked Holloway as he pointed off the road to the Slaughters’ Lazy S Ranch. “That would have been perfect except some moron burned the house to the ground. It has barns, maybe a dairy building, and lots of fenced land. It would’ve been just what I was looking for.”
Holloway slowed as they approached an apparently deserted town. Vealmoor had dwindled in population from a couple of hundred in the sixties to around fifty at the time of the collapse. Isolated from the rest of Texas by virtue of its remote location, within weeks of the EMP attack, all of the inhabitants fled for the homes of relatives in larger, more populated cities, where they could count on government assistance to feed their families.
Holloway threw his left arm out the truck’s open window and made a fist indicating for the other vehicles to slow down as they approached the intersection of the two county roads in Vealmoor. A handful of one-story homes, a couple of closed-down businesses, and a church filled up the remainder of the intersection.
“Let’s catch our breath and study the map,” said Holloway. “I could use some chow and a change of clothes too.”
He jumped out of the truck and spoke to each of his men, who remained in their trucks. He pointed out homes for them to clear and occupy until he was ready to move on to their next destination. He ordered them to keep their trucks hidden and not to leave the houses unless there was trouble. Although this area appeared completely deserted, he didn’t want to be discovered by the National Guard if they came through.
Holloway occupied the nicest of the properties situated on the corner. The older ranch-style home was surrounded by a fence, was pristinely landscaped, and had a propane tank, which might provide a source of heat. With a little luck, he thought to himself, he might be able to extract some hot water out of the water heater to wash the stench off his body.
After taking the time to clear the home and rummage through its closets and cupboards looking for things of value, he located a water hose and drained the warm water into a bathtub down the hall, where he soaked until the water cooled.
While he relaxed, Holloway reflected on what had brought him to this point, and his mind wandered to books he used to enjoy as a kid about the gangsters of the twenties and thirties. From the big city mobsters like Al Capone in Chicago to the rural bank robbers like Bonnie and Clyde, he often dreamt of life on the run, eluding the law and hiding out in desolate places like this one.
He toweled off and was pleased to find clothes that fit him in the farmer’s closet. He was ready to transition once again from life as a soldier to that of a criminal opportunist, a vocation he enjoyed a lot more. With law enforcement in total disarray thanks to the efforts of his North Korean friends, his job as a marauder would be much easier. He was looking at himself in the mirror and imagining himself in a normal life when something caught his attention through the bedroom window.
A tan-colored Humvee was parked at the intersection barely fifty feet from the house. He frantically scrambled to grab his rifle, and he ran to the front of the home to get a better view. He pressed his back against the wall and moved the curtain to one side.
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered as he squinted his eyes to confirm what he saw. “If it is
n’t that pretty soldier boy. Are you lost, kid? Hey, where are your buddies?”
Holloway stretched his neck to look behind the Humvee to see if more vehicles were part of this patrol. Nothing came, and then Holloway got excited.
“My turn!”
Without putting on his shoes, he ran toward the rear of the house and out the back door. He raced across the coarse grass to take up a position at the back side of the barn. Just as he reached the barn, he heard the rumble of the Humvee as it continued eastward past the house. The driver accelerated just as Holloway reached the back of the barn with his rifle raised.
A stand of mature, leafless pecan trees blocked his line of sight to the truck as it roared away from him. Frustrated, he repeatedly slammed his fist into the side of the small red barn before walking to the edge of the chain-link fence to watch the Humvee disappear from sight to his east.
He took another glance back toward Patricia and finally returned inside. Resigned to the fact that he’d lost his prey, he flopped down on the couch and considered his options. If he loaded up the guys and gave chase, he might be successful in killing his nemesis, but they would surely radio for reinforcements in the process, which would give away Holloway’s position. Perhaps it was better for them to get a false sense of security and continue on their patrol. Eventually, they’d have to return to Lubbock and they’d confirm that this area was clear.
He made a mental note to review the map and study where this county road led and what options the Humvee had in returning to Lubbock. If they readied themselves, the driver might come back through this intersection. If they did, Holloway would have somethin’ for them.
Chapter 44
January 21
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
Duncan had Espy stop the truck for a moment as he got out to shake hands with Antonio and two of the ranch hands. He warned them to be on the lookout for the North Korean commandos. Antonio was very familiar with the areas surrounding Patricia and nearby Vealmoor. He assured Duncan they’d increase their awareness to protect the ranch.