by Kempf, Shaun
“Sounds serious,” said Michael.
“We’ll see.” Ben took off his ball cap and weapon, giving them to Michael. “Sergeant, make sure the team refills their ammo supplies and gets some grub.”
“Yes, Sir.” Michael gave a salute and trotted towards the barracks.
Ben climbed into the backseat of the jeep. The MP climbed back into the passenger seat and they took off towards the main buildings without another word. Ben had been called upon to be briefed about new missions before, even right after completing a mission, but never before had he had MP officers come get him. Something was up, but he couldn’t imagine what it was.
The silent ride ended as the MPs stopped the jeep in front of the Officers building. The MP in the passenger seat got up to let Ben out. Ben thought the two MPs would then drive off to go take care of whatever it was that they did, but the first MP led the way into the building while the driver fell into step behind them. Once inside the building, Ben was lead through the halls in the same manner. He felt like a criminal being walked to his court case. He wanted to ask what this was about and try to find out where they were going, but he knew better. These men wouldn’t tell him anything. Their job was to get him from where ever they found him on base and bring him here. Small talk was not part of their orders.
After making their way to the West side of the building one of the MPs opened a door that had been stained or painted to look like oak even though Ben was pretty sure it wasn’t. The MP didn’t enter. He stood to the side holding the door open and allowed Ben to enter. The room that Ben walked into was a briefing room, one he hadn’t been in before, but no different the others he had been in. He assumed this particular room was used more so by the higher ranking officers. More often than not, Ben was briefed in one of the smaller briefing rooms closer to the barracks or in one of the hangers. The MP closed the door behind him. Ben was alone in the room, but had the distinct feeling that if he opened the door he would find the two MPs standing at attention on either side of the doorway.
Ben looked around the empty room. It was a simple room nicely furnished with a large oval table surrounded by swivel chairs that had wheels. Just the look of the chairs said that they would be extremely comfortable to sit in. There was a large screen on the South wall to Ben’s left. The screen was so large that it nearly took up the whole wall. It had been a long time since Ben had seen a screen that big. It made him think of the jumbo screen that had been in the AT&T stadium of the Dallas Cowboys. Of course, that screen had been much, much larger. Across from him were another door and a counter on top of which were glasses, a water jug and a few glass bottles holding different colored liquids which he assumed held some type of liquor. The West wall was filled with a row of windows that had horizontal blinds covering them, but was not closed allowing sunlight to enter the room.
Ben had not gone any further into the room than the two steps he initially took after the MP had let him in. He considered sitting in the chair directly in front of him when the door opposite him suddenly opened. In stepped a Colonel carrying a manila folder. Ben quickly stood at attention and saluted. The Colonel quietly closed the door and turned back to Ben, who immediately recognized his face.
“Colonel Tonn?” Lieutenant Hassinger’s salute started to fade. The Colonel gave a quick salute and then offered his hand.
“I think we can depart from the formalities, friend.” The men shook hands. “It’s good to see you again, Ben.”
“You too, Sir.”
The Colonel crossed around the table back to the glasses and liquor setting down the folder as he went. “Can I offer you a drink?”
“No thanks, Sir,” Ben said taking a step toward the table.
“That’s right. You don’t drink. One of your survival rules,” Colonel Tonn said as he began to pour himself a drink.
“My survival rules, haven’t had to think about those for some time,” Ben thought back to the days when his survival rules were an everyday necessity. Back when he and his team were wondering about infected zones on their own.
“Do you know your team, what do you call yourselves again?” The ice in the Colonel’s glass shifted and clinked against the glass as he turned.
“The Lone Rangers, Sir.”
“Yes. Do you know that the Lone Rangers have the highest mission success rate of any squad currently in action? And you’ve only been active for, what, eight months?”
“Nine. I was unaware, Sir, but don’t forget most of my team had about a two years of experience before you recruited us. Plus, missions are a lot easier with the resources now available to us,” Ben’s thoughts floated back to the days before his team had suppressors.
Every shot included the risk of drawing the attention of more of the Infected, which meant having to use more precious ammo. It meant always having to have an escape plan and knowing when to and not to engage. The faces of those he could not save came rushing back into his mind again. He was thankful that there were fewer faces these days, but those of the past still haunted him. The last face he saw, which was always the most vivid, was the face of his wife made him close his eyes.
“Ben, you all right?” asked the Colonel.
Ben shook the image from his mind and opened his eyes, “Yes, Sir. Just some rough days back then.” Both men stood in silence.
Colonel Tonn took a long sip of his drink. The ice seems thunderous as they slid back to the bottom of the glass as the Colonel lowered it back down. The Colonel’s eyes had drifted away from Ben and were lost in the distance of empty space.
“Are you here to brief me, Sir?”
“So to speak,” The Colonel said without looking at Ben.
“Should we get started, then, Sir?”
Colonel Tonn opened his mouth to reply when the door he came in through opened up and a Captain that Ben had never seen before hurriedly walked in. Ben stood at attention and saluted again. The Captain saluted the Colonel first before turning to Ben and saluting.
“As you were Lieutenant,” the Captain’s voice was cool crisp. It had a tone to it that Ben couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Ben lowered his salute and inspected the Captain. He was young, or at least young in Ben’s eyes. The Captain was probably in his early twenties wearing a neatly pressed and shined blue uniform. There was no edge in the Captain’s eyes. There was an ease in which the Captain moved. Ben wondered if the Captain had yet been outside of the base’s perimeter.
“Lieutenant Hassinger this is Captain Perret,” introduced the Colonel. Ben shook the Captain’s hand.
“Sorry I’m late, Lieutenant. I was in an important meeting when I got word that your team had returned from your last mission,” The Captain’s voice was more eager than it was apologetic.
The Colonel suggested they all sit. Ben was hesitant to sit in one of the nice chairs. He was still in his field uniform and was afraid of getting the chair dirty.
“Perhaps, I should just remain standing, Sir.”
“Nonsense, Lieutenant,” Said Colonel Tonn with a wave of his hand. “You’re not as dirty as you think and these chairs clean easier than you think. Sit.”
Ben stepped up to the nearest chair and sat. The Chair was even more comfortable than it looked. It hugged his body as he sat back. Ben found himself sitting alone opposite the Colonel and the Captain. Suddenly he felt like he was back in high school at the principal’s office, a memory of a life that almost didn’t seem like he had lived it.
This particular memory was the day when he had been caught with a playboy in his backpack. After class his teacher, Mr. Wilson the science teacher if he remembered correctly, had walked him down to the principal’s office and both men had sit across from him and explained what he had done wrong. Their punishment was to give a presentation on the dangers of pre-marital sex to the sex-ed class. Ben almost laughed as the memory came back to him, but only gave a cough instead.
“Lieutenant Hassinger you were called in today because there is an urgent mission
and we feel that your squad is perfect for it,” the Colonel’s tone had changed to that of an officer rather than the casual friendly tone that he had used when it was just the Lieutenant and him in the room. “It’s a rescue mission. It should be a quick grab and go.” The Colonel opened the folder. “We got a distress call from a plane carrying some very important government officials earlier this morning. Unfortunately, their plane ending up going down, it will be your team’s mission to go in and retrieve any survivors.”
“Where did they go down?” Asked Ben.
“New York,” Captain Perret said. He was leaning back in his chair with his eyes riveted on Ben. The fingertips of his hands pressed together just in front of him. His face unreadable. This was the type of man Ben would never want to play poker with.
“New York?” Ben said in disbelief. “I thought that New York was a Quarantined-No Enter Zone.”
“It is.”
New York. Whoever was on that plane was more than just an important government official. It was someone with pull. When the virus had broken out it spread quickly, the large cities were hit the hardest. It wasn’t much of a surprise considering how many people were in one area. However, the strange thing was that the Infected stayed in the major cities. In less populated areas the Infected would migrate looking for fresh flesh. Infected zones were constantly moving as the Infected moved from populated area to area, but the Infected in most major cities didn’t migrate. It was a behavioral phenomenon that the scientists were unable to explain; of course, they couldn’t even explain the cause for the dead to start walking again either.
The government had initially tried bombing New York to wipe out the Infected, but it proved not as effective as they were expecting. At one point they had initiated Retake New York, where they had failed on a major level in an attempt to wipe out the Infected within New York using ground troops. Further attempts and new initiatives were being held off on in the hope that the cities could be reclaimed with minimum damage, once the war against the undead was won. It was a war that Ben could not see humanity win. They would forever be fighting for survival.
For now, most of New York had become Quarantine-No Enter Zone, which meant that the city had been a total loss and was completely infected. A barrier had been quickly erected all along 287 to keep the infected in and un-infected out. Manhatten and Staten Island authorities had not been able to evacuate quickly enough and all bridges and tunnels to the Islands had been destroyed. Long Island fared little better. Although they were able to evacuate a large number of the population, not everyone was able to make it off of the island quick enough.
Ben didn’t know and hadn’t heard where the initial outbreak had occurred. What he had heard was that when the disease, or at least that’s what they were calling it, had hit New York the spread rate was as bad as a wildfire in California during a dry spell on a windy day. Warnings could not be issued fast enough. Authorities, although they did their best, had no time to react. The loss of New York and the lives there was a heavy blow the countries moral. New York, since the days of terrorist attacks, had been seen as a survivor; thus the initial efforts to reclaim the city.
“Then surely you have to suspect that if they didn’t die in the crash the Infected have gotten to them,” Ben said looking from one man to the other.
The Colonel pulled a satellite picture out of the folder and pushed it over to him. Ben looked down at the picture which showed a cluster of skyscrapers. One of the buildings near the edge of the cluster had the tail of a plane sticking out of it.
“We’re not sure exactly how it happened, but we’re guessing they were attempting to land at Bryant Park. They either missed or didn’t make it. Either way, they crashed into the W.R. Grace building. Immediately following the crash we did have some radio contact. It was brief and broken. Therefore, we believe that there may be survivors.” The Colonel said.
“Shouldn’t they have been attempting to land at Central Park?”
“Like we said, we’re not sure what happened.”
“The plan is to fly in by helicopter and land on the roof of the building,” added Captain Perret. “We’re pretty certain the roof can handle the landing. Then we rush in, grab the survivors and get the hell out of there.”
Ben looked at the photo again. He knew that times no longer allowed for luck. You could not rely on luck to get you through the day. You had to be prepared. Ready for anything. He knew his team was prepared and ready for anything, but heading into New York, even by helicopter, seemed like a suicide mission.
“I don’t suppose I’ve got a say in whether or not to go on this mission.” Ben didn’t look up. He knew what answer was coming, or thought he did.
“This mission comes straight from the General,” Colonel Tonn said and then sat forward leaning on the table. “And Ben, I personally recommended you and your team for this mission.”
Ben looked up at the Colonel. Just ten months ago Ben and his group had been picked up by a military helicopter. They had been in contact with the Army for quite some time, calling them in to pick up those individuals that they rescued from within the Infected Zone. Then, one of his guys got sick. Not from whatever had caused the Infected, but normal sickness. They would learn later that it was cancer. Thinking they could get their friend help, they called in a helicopter for themselves.
The base they had been taken to had a temporary refugee camp right next door where the group had been given shelter, not that they spent much time there. Ben and his team spent most of their time at their friend’s side. There were a couple of people at the camp that had been saved by Ben’s group and word of what they had done in the infected zones quickly began to spread. They were constantly stopped and asked about their time in the infected zone and how they had survived for so long.
It was about a month after their arrival that Ben found Colonel Tonn waiting for him at this bunk one evening after dinner. The Colonel had introduced himself and asked if so many of the stories that he had heard about Ben and his group were true. Ben informed him that some of the stories might have been embellished, but most were true. It was then that the Colonel had suggested that Ben’s group join up and help in the fight to bring this infection, this war to an end. Ben’s group discussed it and thought about it for a week before deciding to agree under the stipulation that they stay together as a group. Colonel Tonn agreed and even made Ben a Lieutenant so that he could continue to lead his team.
Since then Colonel Tonn had not only followed the group’s progress, but had become somewhat of a friend to Ben. It held a lot of weight that he had personally suggested Ben’s group for this mission.
“I’ll get my team prepped right away,” Ben began to stand.
“There’s one more thing, Lieutenant.” Colonel Tonn’s eyes held a pleading look. “Captain Perret is going to be joining your team for this mission. He’ll be in charge.”
Ben did his best to hold his surprise and shock inside, but felt like it was being painted all across his face. The 46th squadron, better known as the Lone Ranger Squad, was his. His team was made up of individuals who had been considered dead, lost to the infection. That hadn’t been the case. They all shared the common experience of being caught in the Infected Zone and joining up together to try to save others who had also been trapped. They were as much a family as a team. Now, here the Colonel was telling him face to face that he was no longer going to be in charge of his team. That some fresh-faced cadet of a Captain was going to be taking over his team.
“It will still be your team, Lieutenant,” interjected the Captain quickly. “I’ll only be joining you for this mission. After this mission, they’re all yours again. The brass felt that the nature of this mission required,” the Captain paused searching for the right word, “someone who knew how to deal with the cargo that we were picking up.”
“Exactly who are we picking up, Captain?”
“We can’t divulge our cargo’s identity at this time. Your mission is simply to ensure
that this rescue goes smoothly and the cargo isn’t lost.”
“Understood.” Ben attempted to hide the contempt in his voice.
“Good. Brief your team and meet me at hanger 12 at 1800. We leave tonight.”
The Captain stood and Ben matched him, both men saluting each other. Ben then turned to head out the door he came in already going through a mental list of everything his team should be sure to bring along and what to leave behind. It was a nice distraction. He wasn’t sure how he was going to break the news about Captain Perret to his team.
“Lieutenant,” The Captain called out stopping Ben at the door. He turned toward the Captain. “I can count on your team to follow orders and get this job done.”
“Yes, sir.” It hadn’t been a direct question, but an order and Ben knew it.
THREE
Ben returned to the barracks. He was not surprised to see that his team was not there. He hoped that they were getting something to eat and letting a little steam off. Things had been noticeably different with his team since they joined up with the Army. There was less joking around, less laughter. He wasn’t sure if it was because the Army kept them pretty busy with missions. More often than not they were climbing into a helicopter to head into an Infected Zone for one reason or another. Or maybe because they weren’t stuck in an Infected Zone they didn’t have as much reason to joke around just to keep their sanity. Whatever the reason was, he was concerned about his team. After this mission, he needed to find the time to put in a request to get his team some R and R.
While he waited for his team to return Ben kept himself busy checking his gear and getting it ready for their next mission. It was supposed to be an in and out type of thing, but he never planned for things to go as scheduled. He made sure that he had plenty of extra ammunition ready, some dried food packs, a full cantina along with purifying tablets and his night vision goggles packed. He wanted to be prepared for anything. By the time he had finished double checking everything and getting it all packed up the door to the barracks opened up and his team meandered in.