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Flashpoint (Book 4): Decay

Page 4

by Ellis, Tara


  Jesper Duke turned his horse to face them then, forcing the group to stop. Pushing up on the brim of his hat, he eyed Tom closely. “Your friend was right to question my eagerness to invite you out here to the ranch, Thomas. The truth is that I knew your father. Bought some cattle from him, oh…about seven years back.”

  “I thought your name sounded familiar,” Tom answered, offering one of his rare smiles.

  Danny watched the exchange with interest. She didn’t pretend to know anything about cattle ranching, but figured it wasn’t unusual for two large spreads in the same state to be familiar with each other.

  “I was sorry to hear of your father’s passing,” Jesper said, resting his hands on the saddle horn. “You know, our families did business dating back several generations.”

  It wasn’t so much a question, so Tom simply nodded in response.

  “In fact, my grandfather’s last official cattle drive was through the Old Miner’s Pass,” Jesper said with a wink.

  Tom sat up straight and his smile faded to a look of serious curiosity. “They ran cattle here from our ranch?”

  “Yes, sir!” Jesper slapped at his knee, causing Tango to snort and toss his head.

  Tom ignored the horse and leaned forward. “How is that possible? I thought that trail put out far north of the interstate.”

  Chuckling again, Jesper repositioned his hat and turned his horse back. “Join us for supper and I’ll explain the mystery,” he called over his shoulder, spurring his horse on.

  “Why does that matter?” Danny asked, falling in next to Tom. He was still smiling, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

  “I was planning on using that trail for the last leg of our trip,” Tom explained, his voice eager. “It leads directly to my property and will cut about half a day’s ride from the journey. Mr. Duke is suggesting that there’s another trail near here that connects them.”

  Danny nodded in understanding. The sooner they got off the roads, the better. And if it also meant shaving even more time from the trek, they could be home a day sooner than she thought. Her smile matched Tom’s. She’d forgotten how optimism felt.

  “Jesper Duke, what have you brought home this time?”

  Danny was surprised to see how quickly they had closed in on the house, and saw that a woman had come out to greet them. Though her comment could have been taken as an insult, her tone left no doubt that it was an ongoing joke with her husband. Jesper’s son waved to his mom in passing before leading the other five riders away from the front yard and toward a massive barn in the distance.

  Jesper dismounted with ease and removed his hat. “Anna, I’d like for you to meet Thomas Miller, of the Miller ranch up in Mercy. This is his son, Ethan, and their two riding companions, Sam and Danny.”

  Anna Duke stood with her hands on her hips and studied each of them in turn. Her long red hair was arranged in a loose braid, and she wore a blue flannel shirt tucked into blue jeans. She was a tall, sturdy woman and how Danny imagined Tom’s mother would look.

  Danny didn’t know why she suddenly felt a need to impress Anna, but she did her best to sit straight in the saddle, and couldn’t stop herself from smoothing down some stray hair.

  The older woman smiled then and clapped her hands together. “Jesper, you brought me a woman! Glory be.” Shooing at him, she walked straight at Danny. “Now, you get down off that horse and come inside with me while they go put up the horses.”

  Danny hesitated and again questioned why she was wavering in the face of something positive. Perhaps it was because she’d been stuck in survival mode for so long that she was having a hard time processing things any other way. While the invitation to go inside a nice home for the first time in two weeks was clearly appealing, a large part of her wanted to say with the men, dirty barn and all.

  “It’s okay,” Tom offered. “We’ll come find you.”

  Encouraged, and also appreciative of his understanding, Danny slid from the saddle, landing next to Anna. The rancher threw her arms around her in a huge bear hug, and Danny thought Anna would have lifted her off her feet and swung her around if she’d been able. Large as Anna was, Danny was still bigger.

  Laughing, Danny returned the embrace, though she suffered a small bout of anxiety when she heard the horses trotting away. Separating, she was met by a pair of the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. They sparkled with a contagious energy and Danny immediately like the woman.

  “I’m Danny Latu,” she offered. “It’s really great to meet you, Anna. Your husband literally saved our lives when we were attacked.”

  Anna’s smile faded and she took another step back, her hands falling again to her hips. “Nelson?”

  “Yeah, that’s what Mr. Duke called him.”

  “Oh, you better call him Jesper,” Anna admonished. “Or else that man’s superiority complex will get even worse.”

  Danny laughed at the obvious joke. “Okay. Jesper said it was Nelson and his gang. They ambushed us.”

  Anna was shaking her head, and already walking back toward the house, expecting Danny to follow. “That man has always been a bad apple. Funny how an event like this brings the boils to the surface.”

  Danny cringed at the accurate analogy, rushing to keep up with Anna’s quick steps. She got the impression the older woman always moved like she had a purpose. “Trust me, we’ve encountered several different…infections over the past two weeks.”

  The broad porch wrapped around the whole front of the house and Danny could imagine sitting out on the wooden furniture with a cup of coffee, watching the sun rise over the open view to the east. Anna didn’t even pause though, and pulled the double doors open with a flourish. The interior was what Danny would expect of a ranch house: rich wood floors, mahogany trim, large open rooms filled with overstuffed leather furniture, and plenty of windows.

  There were oil lamps sitting on several surfaces, as well as a few candles. “I know it may seem like a waste,” Anna said, waving at one of the lit candles. “Ever since the…um, event, I can’t handle being in the dark. Even the shadows of my home during the day. It’s a good thing I make candles, or else I’d have a bit of a problem, now wouldn’t I?”

  Danny understood then that the brave, strong facade Anna hid behind had some cracks. Everyone’s did. “If I had candles, I would keep them lit, too,” Danny answered gently.

  Anna bobbed her head sharply in response and clapped her hands together again. “Now! When was the last time you used a working toilet or took a bath?”

  An hour later, and after several pots of heated water, Danny emerged from Anna Duke’s bathroom feeling more rejuvenated than she had since the whole horrible nightmare had begun. The clawfoot tub was better than any spa she’d been to and although she chose to keep her versatile FEMA duty pants, the fresh T-shirt and underclothes Anna gave her were a welcome change.

  Wiping at her damp hair with a towel, Danny made her way down the long back hallway and toward the kitchen, where she could hear several voices engaged in a lively conversation. The smell of something cooking was enough to make her mouth water, and the sense of near-normalcy made her eyes well with emotion. She’d forgotten what it was like to be clean and to feel safe.

  Rounding the corner, Danny was greeted by Tom, Ethan, and Jesper sitting at a large kitchen table, a map spread out between them. Sam was standing at the counter with Anna, chopping food to add to a pot of something amazing simmering on top of the woodstove.

  Tom looked up and his eyes widened when he saw her, taking in her more formfitting shirt and clean hair. Offering a crooked smile, he gestured to the map. “We waited for you,” he explained, referring back to her comment about his and Sam’s man-time.

  Danny grinned. She hated reading maps and was horrible at it. Sitting in the vacant seat next to Tom, she leaning forward eagerly. “So, what’s the quickest way home?”

  Chapter 6

  GENERAL MONTGOMERY

  Infirmary, Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado
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br />   General Montgomery sighed audibly when he saw Walsh appear at the doorway to his room. “I knew you’d find me eventually, but—” he started to raise his wrist to check the time, out of habit, and stopped with it halfway to his face, sighing again. “You got here a couple of hours faster than I thought you would.”

  Colonel Walsh scratched at his forehead before pointing at the IV bag hanging by the bed. “You okay?”

  A nurse who had just hung the fluids hesitated, looking back and forth between the two men. The general glared at her before barking, “You’re dismissed!”

  Scurrying from the room, she glanced nervously at Walsh on her way out. He offered an apologetic smile before moving past her and closing the door. “You know there’s a fully functioning hospital topside that comes with a much better view.”

  “This is more than adequate,” the general declared, waving a hand. “I’m fine. Just a little dehydrated. And I prefer to stay where there’s likely to be more…discretion.”

  “I found you.”

  Montgomery laughed halfheartedly. “But you aren’t the norm, Colonel Walsh.” Pushing himself up further in the bed, he fought a spell of dizziness while leveling the colonel with his steely eyes. By no means would he reveal he was symptomatic, or else he’d never hear the end of it. “I’m assuming there’s a reason you’re looking for me. Do you have an update on the list?”

  “Yes, sir,” Walsh confirmed. “I’m handling it personally, like you requested. Out of the sixty-five hundred, I was able to arbitrarily eliminate over four thousand names, based solely on their addresses. There are obvious flaws with this process, of course, but considering the circumstances it’s the best we can do.”

  “Understandable,” Montgomery mumbled, eager for the other man to get on with it. He didn’t enjoy holding a meeting while lying in a bed. It made him appear weak and not in control. It simply wasn’t acceptable. Next time…if there was a next time, he’d be sure to visit the infirmary while everyone else was asleep.

  “Sir?”

  General Montgomery looked up at Walsh with annoyance. “What, Colonel?”

  “I asked if you wanted a complete breakdown of the numbers.”

  “Oh.” The general fought another wave of wooziness as he tried to concentrate on the question. “Yes. Yes, of course I want the details.”

  Colonel Walsh narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. “Are you sure you’re okay? Have you been sleeping?”

  Walsh knew full well that he hadn’t been sleeping most nights, and Montgomery resented the fact that he pretended otherwise. Insomnia was nothing new for the general. He’d successfully dealt with it before and he would do so again. “Unless there’s been a sudden change in status and you now have doctor in front of your name, let’s stick to what you know best.”

  His cheeks flushing, Walsh accepted the reprimand without missing a beat. “It’s been difficult to narrow the list down much further,” he continued, sitting on the only small plastic chair in the room. “Based on our contacts and the reports coming out of the western states, I created what I’m calling the ‘secondary’ list. They are assets that I’ve deemed less likely to still be alive, considering age and location. Such as an eighty-year-old in the middle of Seattle, versus a forty-something in the suburbs of Montana.”

  Montgomery was nodding. “Good. What does it leave us with?”

  “Just over eleven hundred people,” Walsh answered. Folding his hands in his lap, he leaned forward, his expression grim. “I issued orders last night. It’s going to be slow, and we’ll be lucky if we ever have confirmation on even half of those names, but we do have some initial results.”

  Montgomery raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  Smiling, Walsh was obviously proud to have surprised the general. “Two hard contacts and three soft. A unit near Las Vegas successfully extracted their asset this morning. It’s going to take a few days, but they’re en route here.”

  “And the other?” Montgomery asked.

  Walsh sat back, his demeanor changing. “Well, sir, there were some complications. We didn’t foresee an asset refusing to be saved, which is what happened. He’s some sort of high-profile computer programmer in Los Angeles. He was more than content to stay at his mansion in the hills of Hollywood with his family.”

  He could feel his face reddening. Montgomery had a hard time when his soldiers were unable to think for themselves. Taking a slow breath, he chose his words carefully. “Colonel Walsh, there seems to be a lack of communication here. These extractions aren’t optional. I expect, when an asset is located alive, they will be brought in. There are to be no discussions or choices given. Are we clear on this?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Montgomery always knew when his friend had a problem with orders. However, one of the reasons Walsh had successfully been his assistant for so many years was his ability to keep his opinions to himself and simply say “yes, sir”.

  “I’m sending Major Campbell and his 1st Force Recon team out for one of the soft contacts. They’re already on their way and should arrive on site sometime this afternoon,” Walsh continued, correctly anticipating the general’s next question. “She’s in a hot zone near Albuquerque, New Mexico.”

  “That’s getting awfully close to the red zone for radiation exposure,” Montgomery pointed out. “How do you know she’s alive?”

  “We set up our FEMA command center for New Mexico at the Kirtland AFB in Albuquerque,” Walsh explained. “You’re right, they’ve been hit pretty hard with radiation sickness. However, turns out that with the help of the asset, they were able to successfully treat several occupants at the shelter.”

  “Who is it?” Montgomery’s curiosity was piqued. He hadn’t spent much time poring over the names and only recognized a couple dozen. He didn’t really care why they were deemed important.

  “Some astrophysicist,” Walsh said, tapping at his thigh. “Apparently she’s very knowledgeable about gamma-ray bursts. We’re lucky she’s still alive.” He hesitated.

  “What?” Montgomery asked. It was apparent the man had something else to say.

  “Conditions there have broken down dramatically over the past week,” Walsh said with enough reservation that Montgomery knew he was being conservative in the estimation. “We’ve been unable to reach them with sufficient supplies or personnel to make a difference. The base was overrun two days ago and has been under siege ever since.”

  “Sounds like a perfect mission for 1st Force Recon.” The IV drip was about to run dry and the general wanted to end the conversation before the pump alarm brought the nurse back. He briefly considered the irony of his begrudging one of the perks of the EMP-hardened infirmary. “What’s the problem?”

  Walsh squirmed in the hard chair. “Vice Admiral Baker. He found out Corporal Dillinger was left in charge of FEMA Shelter M3. With the other reports coming in these past two days about the, um…skirmishes breaking out near the other shelters, he’s kicked up his opposition.”

  “Define ‘opposition’,” Montgomery said, his voice dangerous.

  “He’s been having meetings,” Walsh admitted, staring down at his hands. “With Major O’Shane and a few of the advisors. He’s also been in contact with some of the remaining civilian state government. Especially those who have been opposed to the martial law declaration and ensuing federal takeover.”

  “To what end?” Montgomery pushed. “He can talk to whomever he wants. He doesn’t have the power or influence to do anything about it.”

  “He’s made comments that lead me to believe he’s going to use the 1st Force Recon missions as examples of military attacks against civilians,” Walsh said, finally getting to the heart of the matter.

  The pump started beeping. The general reached out and yanked the cord from the wall with enough force to send the machine crashing to the ground. As the working end of the IV ripped from his arm, Montgomery slapped his other hand over the site without even looking. Blood oozed from between his fingers as he
stared at Walsh, nostrils flaring.

  “I want a complete report on the vice admiral’s activities,” he growled.

  The door opened and a frightened nurse stuck her head in.

  “I’m fine!”

  The door closed.

  “I want to know who he’s met with, who he’s talking to, and what’s being said,” the general continued.

  Walsh stood then, and looked uncertain as to whether he should comment on the blood that was spreading out on the blanket under the general’s arm. Wisely choosing to let it go, he instead moved toward the door. “Yes, sir.”

  “Colonel?”

  Walsh stopped with his hand on the door and looked back.

  “Where is the admiral residing now?”

  “He’s still on the top floor of building three,” Walsh answered, looking somewhat confused.

  “Has he been outside the mountain since the flashpoint?” Montgomery asked, thoughtful.

  Walsh shook his head.

  Montgomery wrapped his fingers more tightly around his forearm, effectively cutting off the flow of blood. “Perhaps it’s time for the good admiral to get some fresh air.”

  Chapter 7

  JAMES

  Master Sergeant, US Marines, 1st Force Reconnaissance

  Albuquerque, New Mexico

  James didn’t like it, but there was no other way. Both the INFIL and EXFIL were going to be messy. The Kirtland Air Force Base was located at the southern end of Albuquerque, and the main buildings were literally surrounded by a heavily populated area. With over half a million residing in the city, it was a large metropolis with no clear path in or out. The only support 1st Force Recon had was the helicopter, and with no other means of transportation, they were forced to go with a direct insert.

  Since being subtle was off the board, the obvious infiltration point was the international airport adjacent to the base. It also happened to be close to the military medical center, where Dr. Pamela Watson was last reported to be holed up.

 

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