For the people ... (Soldier Up Book 4)

by Steven Linde

  The President stood, walked over to the window near his desk and looked out it for a few moments, than turned, “I have a feeling myself that there’s something going on in the government. Something big, I can’t put my finger on it, but there are a lot of meetings going on about something. When I try and find out what they’re about I get stonewalled.”

  Jake thought for a moment, over the past week or so he had been consumed with trying to find out what was going on with the FBI, CIA and NSA that he hadn’t noticed all of the meeting requests that he was getting, he had of course turned down them all, he was following the President’s orders. All of the meeting activity was truly strange.

  “Sir there was also something else you wanted to talk to me about?” asked Jake.

  “Did you know about Congressman Grossman?” said President Washington.

  Jake chuckled, “Yes sir I knew about the meeting we all thought you might get a good laugh out of it.”

  “Thanks I appreciate it, the meeting wasn’t a total waste though.”

  “How so sir?”

  “He mentioned that we had trains crossing back and forth across the country.”

  “Ok, but we don’t.”

  “Why can’t we?”

  “They don’t run like everything else they are computer dependent or have some solid state circuitry.”

  “Not the old steam locomotives.”

  “Sir are you suggesting we find some old Wild West trains and use them?”

  “Steam locomotives, Jake, were used during World War Two and Korea successfully to move huge amounts of troops and military equipment, these were large locomotives. Why can’t we do the same thing?”

  Jake thought for a moment, ‘it’s not a bad idea’.

  “Where would we find them?” asked Jake.

  “Well let’s start with the Department of Transportation. Get with Decker to find out what he can do for us. If he won’t find out if there are any local train museums. Better yet head over to the Smithsonian and see if anyone has any information that’ll help.”

  “Which one first?” asked Jake.

  “Let’s not let the cat-out-of-the-bag just yet. Head over to the Smithsonian in the morning to see what you might be able to find out.”

  “Yes sir, is there anything else?” The prospect of actually finding a working steam locomotive was exciting to Jake. They could get out of the DC area and find out what was going on in the rest of the areas. The thought of having at least one working locomotive was exciting and the possibilities it would open were immense.

  “Yes, let’s keep track of what’s going on with the NSA and Vance’s computer I want to know ASAP what’s on it.

  “Yes sir will do. I’ll brief you tomorrow evening when I find out more after speaking with the Smithsonian.”

  “Sounds good Jake than I’ll expect you back here at 6.” The President walked over and escorted Jake out of the office.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jake knew that the Smithsonian’s Behring Center should have the information he sought. They had an American Transportation Exhibition right before the event happened. He had family visiting from California and he had taken them to see it. One of the things he remembered seeing was a large locomotive a, Class Ps-4 type steam locomotive of the Southern Railway. At the time he questioned one of the curators about how functional the train was. He was assured that the locomotive was fully functional and well taken care of. He didn’t know if it was still there and almost a year later, how functional it still was.

  Jake arrived at Behring Center at 7am the following morning after meeting with the President; he reasoned that the center no longer had any regular hours. He wasn’t even sure how he was going to get in and if he did what he might find. He requested the same squad of Soldiers from the 3rd Infantry Regiment; they were more than happy to help. As he arrived the same three Humvees arrived at the center that had taken him to NSA at Fort Meade.

  Jake opted for the simple approach first, being flanked by the Soldiers he walked to the front door, pulled on it, it was locked, no surprise there. He looked through the glass doors, but was unable to see if there was anyone around. He knocked hard on the door, still nothing; he banged on the door, not one showed up. Wait! He thought he saw movement, yes definitely he saw movement. There was an older gentleman in security guard uniform making his way to the door, albeit slowly. Jake watched the elderly guard make his way to the door, it was agonizing to watch this, but Jake realized he had no other place to be.

  The guard finally made it to the door, he yelled, “What you want?”

  Jake took out his White House credentials and held them up to the window. The older man moved close to the window, squinted through his glasses and was reading the credential pack. “So? What you want mister White House?” said the guard.

  “I’m Jake Watkins the President’s Chief of Staff he sent me to check on the status of the museum. Would you let us in please?”

  The guard eyed him suspiciously for a moment, shrugged and then began to fumble with his keys. Jake looked at his key ring, he must have had a hundred or so keys, he wondered how the guard would know which is the correct one, but he did. The door was open within two minutes and the guard waved them all in. “I’m Chester Krist, I’m the senior guard here.”

  “It’s nice to meet you Chester.” said Jake extending his hand to shake it. Both men shook hands. “Are you the only guard here?”

  “Naw, there’s three others but they’re down stairs sleeping. We don’t get many folks here anymore. In fact you’re the first one in months. “

  “How are you getting by?” asked Jake.

  “There’s a stocked cafeteria and food store here, there’s only four of us and we don’t eat or drink much. We’ve also been able to get out and grab some water from other places and boil it. We get ‘in by.”

  “That’s great Chester.” said Jake. “Can you give us a tour of the museum?”

  Chester’s eyes lit up, it’s been a while since anyone had asked him about the museum, he loved it and once of the reasons he and his fellow guards stayed after the lights when out. They felt an obligation, no duty, to stay and guard the museum, it’s what they loved. “Yeah, sure would love to give y’all a tour! Anything particular you’re look ‘in for?”

  “Yes Chester, there is actually, I’m looking for trains, big trains that run and we can use.”

  “We wondered how long it would take someone to figure out to come here and ask that question.”

  “Wait, you knew that trains could be used?”

  “Of course we did, do you think we’re idiots?” said an incredulous Chester.

  Jake chuckled at it, “I meant no offense Chester. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

  “Who was we gonna tell?”

  Good point thought Jake, “Well Chester can you help me with it?”

  “Damn straight we can! Follow me.”

  Chester turned and began his slow waddle deeper into the museum, Jake knew at this pace it was going to take a while. A bit further down the hall, Chester turned a corner, Jake and the Soldiers lost sight of him for a moment until they turned the corner and there it was. The Class Ps-4 type steam locomotive, it was big and beautiful, “Does she run?” asked Jake.

  “I told you she did, don’t you listen?” a clearly exasperated Chester replied.

  Jake looked at him and smiled, “You just made my day Chester you have no idea. “Is there a way to get her out?”

  Chester looked at Jake like he had been smoking some of the loco weed, “Now young man how do you think they got her in here?”

  “I’m only asking because I don’t see any tracks.”

  Chester motioned for two of the Soldiers to follow him, they first looked at Jake and he nodded; it was ok for them to go with him. Chester led them over behind the train and instructed them to pick up the floor tile. It seemed like a strange request until the Soldier realized it wasn’t the floor tiles he was pointing at. The tiles were on s
ome sort of floor cover that blended perfectly, Chester pointed to a latch cleverly hid on the floor and asked the Soldier to pull it. When the Soldier pulled up on it an entire section of the floor came with it exposing a section of rail. The Soldiers followed the latches all the way down, pulling up all of the section of floor. There was rail all the way down leading out of the back of the museum.

  Next Chester pressed a well concealed button that lifted a well-crafted door that the train could exit out of. Jake followed the rails out of the back of the building, to his astonishment there were two move steam locomotives in the yard, one of them being armored. “Do these trains run too?” asked Jake.

  Chester now clearly agitated, “Boy! You need to clear the wax out of your ears, I already said they do!”

  Jake was all smiles, finally some good news for the President, now all they needed was some engineers to run them. “I know some engineers that can drive them if you need them.” said Chester.

  Jake was wondering if Chester could read his mind, “You do? Where can we find them?”

  “You’re looking at him and there three more downstairs. We may be old, but there’s still fire in the kitchen, I know we may not be able to do everything you would need for us to do, but we can train folks.”

  Jake thought it over and Chester was correct, they wouldn’t be able to do everything they needed, especially the armored train which he was sure the Army would take, but they could train people on how to operate and maintain them. Jake looked over at Chester, “You got yourself a deal Chester!” Jake reached out and shook his hand.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Captain O’Hara – US Navy and Captain Luxon – USMC, plan to train Sailors and former Soldiers, Marines was in full swing. The first class, all Sailors, was set to graduate from the Navy’s Advance Combat Course. After a brief stint in the field with the Marines they would be returned to the school to take over the training of the Sailors. The first class of prior service Soldiers and Marines had three more weeks of training to go through, although they started at the same time, their knowledge of infantry skills and tactics was far greater than what was needed by the Navy.

  Captain O’Hara was proud of his Sailors; soon they would be making a real impact and helping the Marines in securing the community. The long term plan was to replace the Marines with the Combat Sailors freeing up the Marines for other duties. They needed to push out further into the surrounding communities there were a lot of reports from civilians that it was very bad out there. Gangs were ravaging communities and having their way with people, rape, murder and robbery. It was late afternoon on a Friday, the ceremony to graduate the first Combat Sailors (not to say Sailors didn’t participate in combat but this was an entire new animal). The base commander and other senior ranking officers on base attended, many of them lost some of their best men and women to this. They were interested in seeing if this was everything the Captain O’Hara had sold them on. The graduating class was made up of men and women, one of the requirements to attend they must be E-4 and above, the next requirement that they all, man or woman, had to pass the same physical fitness test, no exceptions.

  There were two hundred men and women that had made up the first class; they were graduating seventy-five, one-third of them women. To be fair out of the original two hundred a quarter of them were women, which meant that there were fewer women that dropped out of the training than men. The Navy band was playing as people filtered into the field where the ceremony was being held, it was late June and the weather wasn’t too hot and humid yet. The ceremony was kicking off at 1500 and it was 1450 now, Captain O’Hara was sitting next to the podium, they did have a primitive PA system, it wasn’t hard, speakers didn’t have any advance circuitry in them and generally worked, they needed electricity and a means to deliver it.

  Right at 1500 Captain O’Hara was up and standing at the podium, he looked over the crowd and then asked for everyone to take their seat. Once everyone was seated that was the signal for the graduates to march in dressed in their whites. Once in the graduates stood in front of their seats at attention. A rather large Marine Corps Gunnery Sergeant ordered the trainee’s to take their seats, which they all did in unison. Once the trainees were seated Captain O’Hara asked the Chaplain up to the podium. The Chaplain congratulated the men and women for successfully completing what he was sure a grueling course, he then said a prayer and moved back to his seat.

  Captain O’Hara retook the podium and gave the commencement address, he was followed by several other key officers from various commands which basically had nothing to do these days, they were either ship or flight officers. The ceremony took forty-five minutes to complete, after the ceremony there was a large party, there was plenty of booze to go around, that’s something that there was still plenty of. It was the first celebration that anyone could remember since the event, it was hopefully a sign that things were going to get better.

  At the party Commander Greg McDonald the commander of VFA-87, prior to the event he commanded Fighter Strike Squadron 87 they flew F/A-18 Hornets, approached and spoke to Captain O’Hara regarding the Military Aviation Museum in Virginia Beach. Captain O’Hara hadn’t even considered the museum and wondered why the Commander was so interested in it.

  “I’m sorry Commander but why the museum?”

  Commander McDonald had been thinking about it for months, “Well sir they have airplanes.”

  Captain O’Hara replied, “Yes Commander that’s a given, so what?”

  “Possibly flyable airplanes sir. Many of the planes there have no modern avionics and if they run we have an Air Force again.”

  Captain O’Hara felt the air being sucked around him! He thought, ‘why hadn’t he thought of it? What else was he missing?’

  “Honestly Commander I hadn’t thought about it, how sure are you any of them are any good?”

  “I’m not sir but I figure we won’t know until we look.”

  The problem was the museum was in bad guy territory, well area they had not secured yet because they didn’t have the trained manpower to potentially go into the area and slug it out with the well-armed gangs that were supposed to be running the area.

  “Yes of course Commander it’s a great idea but right now I’m not so sure how doable it is. We’re very stretched on resources and we may have to fight are way in.”

  “What about the SEALs?”

  Again something Captain O’Hara hadn’t considered, not mentioning he had no control over what the SEALs did or didn’t do even though it was his base. “Good point Commander can you give me twenty-four hours to think it over? I need to talk to some people and see what we can come up with. I’m assuming you can provide pilots and mechanics?”

  “Of course sir twenty-four hours is fine, I sort of took the liberty to speak with the SEALs and they are in if we need them. As far as my pilots and mechanics you give us a place and time and we’ll be there.”

  “Alright Commander let me talk to the SEALs and a few others, we’re going to need the Seabee’s too, as well as the Marines to clear a path.”

  Commander McDonald knew it was time to retreat and not press it, he came to attention, saluted, did an about face and walked off. Captain O’Hara thought it was a great opportunity, but it was going to be a pain in the ass to get all of the players in. Yet, it got Captain O’Hara thinking about other possibilities he hadn’t thought of yet, he knew he was missing something. He made a mental note to himself that he would call a staff meeting in the morning to discuss it with his staff, maybe they could figure out what he was missing.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It was 0400 at the staging area, the SEALs had shown up in four fully outfitted DPV’s (Desert Patrol Vehicles – Off road vehicles used for combat). Captain O’Hara wondered where the hell they had been keeping those. The plan was that the SEALs would for the most part move hard and fast to the museum and secure it, then hold it until the much larger Marine follow on force arrived.

  The Mari
ne follow on force consisted of the entire Marine Company; they had pulled, temporarily, the Marine platoon from the school to help with this operation. The SEALs would leave at 0415 and they were itching to go, they were actually looking forward to it. The Marines in armored Humvees and two-half ton trucks, the old M-35’s, would follow thirty minutes later and convoy out. There would be two Marine Humvees that would scout about a mile ahead of the convoy, the SEALs and Marines all had PRC-77’s which allowed them to communicate.

  At 0415 the SEALs in their DPV’s were out the gate, they had about a mile to go from base before entering no-man’s land. It was a bit over eleven miles from Oceana to the aviation museum that was a lot could go wrong time. It was almost a straight shot down Princess Ann Road, the good thing was that no one knew they were coming, the bad thing was that after they got past the first mile they had no idea what Princess Ann Road would look like. The SEALs made excellent time and passed the manned checkpoint that led out of the safety zone. Word was passed between the four vehicles to keep their eyes open they were now in Indian Country and if they took fire they would return fire but keep going. The mission was the museum; let the Marines deal with idiots that wanted to take them on and God help them if they did.

  If you can call if a benefit of the EMP event that it happened on a weekend late in the evening which meant there wasn’t a great deal of traffic on the roads. Post event, as they were finding out, it made getting down the roads they needed to quicker and less risky. The SEALs were driving the DPV’s balls out, while the others in the vehicles were looking for potential bad guys. At five miles out they hadn’t seen a living soul, at six and seven miles they had passed through two very small camps, they surprised the hell out of the occupants, they saw that several members of the camps were armed but the SEALs passed through them so quick that they didn’t have time to react. They radioed back the information to the main convoy to be on the lookout for the armed civilians in the camps.