by Mike Kraus
Jackson rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the situation. Frank, meanwhile, stood off to the side as he nervously chewed on his thumbnail and tried not to completely freak out at the thought that a terrorist had managed to find out who he was and obtain a picture of him. The back and forth between Linda and Jackson did nothing to calm his nerves and their latest exchange had him on edge.
“Jackson?” Frank stepped forward and spoke with a hesitant tone. “Question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“If this is fake, then how do they have a picture of me from so long ago? This was taken back when I worked as an accountant. Just… can you explain that one to me?”
“Easy,” Linda interjected herself into the conversation before Jackson could reply. “It’s not a fake.”
“That still doesn’t tell me how they got my picture. Yours I understand. You’ve been chasing this guy for years. But why me? I never even met you before all of this crap started!” Frank didn’t realize until his last few words that he was steadily increasing in pitch and volume. He cleared his throat and looked at Linda and Jackson expectantly.
“Rollins?” Jackson looked at Linda. She, in turn, pulled out the photo of herself and Frank and stared at it for several seconds before responding.
“There’s a leak somewhere.”
“No kidding!” Frank shook his head. “Sarah told us that much!”
“No,” she shook her head, “I don’t mean a leak at the top. I mean someone on the ground. Someone who met us, got your name, passed it on to them and they did background research on you.”
“How would they even pull something like this? It’s from my old accounting firm’s website.”
“From what I’ve heard a decent portion of the web is still up and running.” Jackson rocked his head back and forth as he thought aloud. “Most of the US-based web is down but there are plenty of caching services and non-US sites are still functional. Anything that was in the US but replicated or hosted in other countries could be accessible.” He scratched his chin and plucked the photo from Linda’s hand. “Still, the level of access this guy would have to have just to get your name is ridiculous. How do you even stop a spy operation like that?”
Linda felt her blood run cold as another possibility presented itself. “Maybe they don’t know they’re part of the operation.” Both men looked at her silently, wondering what she meant. “What if,” she continued, “The people who have been passing on the information are just doing their jobs? They’re following instructions given to them by people higher on the chain of command than they are…”
“But in reality they’re just passing along information to whoever the traitor is.” Frank finished the thought and shook his head in disbelief. “That…would be insane.”
“It’s also a lot simpler than turning a bunch of low level people and risk having them divulge what’s really going on.”
“This doesn’t really help us figure out what to do next, though.” Jackson handed the photo back to Linda. “Especially since Omar knows you’re after him.”
“Oh we know what to do. We stick to our plan.” Linda folded the papers and photograph and tucked them away in her jacket. “We get to the docks, look for information on the crates and get that to Sarah so she can have anyone with a functioning pair of eyes start looking for them.”
“And what about Omar?”
“What about him?” Linda snorted in response to Jackson’s question. “So he knows we’re after him. Big deal. All that’s going to do is accelerate his plans. We can’t do anything about that except work twice as hard at finding him and stopping said plans.”
Jackson stared at the ground for a long moment before nodding slowly. “All right. We’ll do it.”
“What’s the status on the injured? Do we have enough people to head out to the docks?” Linda looked around at the soldiers and airmen in the parking lot, many of whom were injured or assisting those who were.
“We’re getting reinforcements in a couple hours. They won’t be much but they’ll have enough vehicles with them to get the injured out to some real hospitals. Once that happens I’ll take anyone still able to walk and carry a rifle, load them up and we’ll head to the docks.”
“A couple hours?” Linda looked at her watch.
“It’s the best I can do, Rollins. As important as this is, my people come first. You know that.”
Linda took a deep breath and nodded. “Absolutely. How can we help?”
***
With nothing to do until the reinforcements showed up, Frank and Linda busied themselves with assisting the injured soldiers and airmen who still required attention. Most everyone had suffered some small injury, whether it was a cut or abrasions due to the RPG fire, but many had sustained far worse injuries. The total number of dead was sixteen with another eight critically wounded. Of the original group that had left the airfield there were only thirty-five men and women who were still in good physical fighting condition.
The strain of being out in a hostile environment—especially when it was on American soil—wore on the morale of the survivors, as did seeing what their enemies had managed to do between the two attacks. Jackson, Frank and Linda were the only ones who knew the full extent of the details about the man responsible for the attacks and none of them wanted that situation to change.
With Williams dead, Frank took over the drone and sent it back into the sky. He swept the area with thermal cameras, helping to cover gaps in the defenses and provide an early warning for any more potential aggressors. Splitting his attention between the drone’s location and the live video feed took some getting used to but keeping the craft flying high above power lines and buildings made controlling the craft somewhat easier.
Linda, meanwhile, stuck close to a medic by the name of Gutierrez. The two women wore white plastic gloves and moved between patients as they evaluated injuries, dispersed medication and tried their level best to keep the most seriously injured from bleeding out until backup arrived. Working on the other side of the hospital bed was a change of pace for Linda after her experience being shot and she was grateful for the fact that she wasn’t lying on her back wondering when she’d feel well again.
It was just over three hours later when the sound of distant diesel engines sent up a shout of joy from the survivors in the parking lot. The reinforcements had broken off from a larger force moving into San Diego in an attempt to establish control of port facilities in that location after the Long Beach port and airfield were both compromised. Over a hundred soldiers and Marines descended on the parking lot, encircling it and quickly transporting the injured to a pair of advanced trauma vehicles. Miniature hospitals on wheels, the trauma vehicles were equipped with state of the art equipment and supplies that would allow the injured to be treated for their wounds on the spot, since the chances of any of them making it to a hospital were slim to none.
As everyone worked, Linda and Frank stood together off to the side until they spotted Lieutenant Jackson in the middle of a heated discussion with another officer from the reinforcement convoy. They wandered toward the pair until they were close enough to hear what was going on.
“Jackson, this is insane. You’re low on supplies, your people have been through hell and we’re here to reinforce you! Let us take point on this!”
“I appreciate the offer. Truly, I do. But this is our fight right now.”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence before the other officer sighed in resignation. “You won’t change your mind on this, huh?”
Jackson gave a slight smile as he shook his head. “Nope. Sorry.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Look, have your guys take what they need from us. Make sure you have enough ammo, food and water to last you however long this secret mission will take. We’ll get your people taken care of and back to safety.”
“Thank you.” Jackson nodded at his counterpart and the pair shook hands before parting ways. Jackson looked
around with a grim look on his face as he walked through the parking lot until he spotted Frank and Linda, both of whom were doing a terrible job of looking nonchalant. Jackson rolled his eyes at them as he approached. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough.” Linda reached out and put a sympathetic hand on Jackson’s arm. “We appreciate you staying with us. I know what it’s like to lose people.”
Jackson sighed and shook his head, dismissing the thoughts before they could overcome him. “There’ll be a time for remembering, later, once this is settled. We have a job to finish first, though. You two ready to get moving?”
***
Twenty minutes later, as the reinforcements were still working to treat the wounded and collect the remains of the fallen soldiers and airmen, five vehicles rolled out of the parking lot and headed back toward the west. Four Humvees and one APC—the only one that had survived the attacks undamaged—traveled backwards along the path they had taken not too long ago, winding their way toward the Long Beach dockyard and whatever awaited them there.
Linda, Frank and Jackson rode in the second Humvee and another twenty troops were spread out across the rest of the vehicles, each of them armed to the teeth and looking to exact vengeance for their fallen brothers and sisters. Jackson sat behind the wheel as he, Frank and Linda conversed, trying to decide what their moves would be once they entered the docks. A short time ago Jackson had been the outsider but as far as Linda and Frank were concerned he was one of them.
“She wants what, the general description of the crates, right?” Jackson spoke loudly over the roar of the engines.
“Any and every detail we can get. Weight, dimensions, color, patterns; anything that can be broadcast out and be used as a way to start searching for them.”
“I hope to heaven that kind of info is even available at the dockyard.” Jackson shook his head. “Though that might not matter much if the people who overran the port destroyed everything.”
“How far out are we?” Frank checked his watch and looked up at the sky. The new day had brought with it a dazzling array of purples, pinks and blues as the sun lazily rose into the sky. A feeling of general exhaustion washed over Frank as he focused on the outside world, but he fought against it with thoughts of the fights that were sure to come and with the help of another mouthful of stale, lukewarm coffee. His short stint as a trucker hadn’t adequately prepared him for going so long and hard without sleep, but he wasn’t about to be the one holding everyone else back.
“Five minutes,” Jackson replied. He picked up a radio and held the microphone to his mouth, scanning the buildings around them as they drove along. “Look alive, people. We’re five minutes out. Gunners keep eyes on the windows and rooftops. When we get to the port keep your safeties off and be ready for a fight. These might just be civvies who overran it but it might be more of the bastards from before.”
A chorus of acknowledgements came back through the radio and Jackson nodded in satisfaction. “All right, you two. Listen up. Keep your helmets on and your eyes on a swivel. Once we’ve secured the perimeter of the dockyard we’ll move inside. I’ll make sure any records or computer rooms are cleared first, then I’ll have a couple of guards with you while you do your searches.”
Linda nodded. “We’ll be fine, Jackson. Just get us inside.”
The relatively calm atmosphere that had pervaded the ride west toward the dockyard was quickly being replaced with tension. Frank could feel his heartrate start to rise as he recognized the streets they were driving on from when he and Linda had been in the area earlier. In the front passenger seat Linda re-checked her pistol and rapped her fingers against the side of her rifle, her right leg drumming up and down in an expression of nervous energy.
When the port drew into view, Frank’s first sight of the dockyard made him gasp. Smoke billowed from buildings and vehicles alike, one of the ships waiting out in the water beyond the port was clearly on fire and there were large pieces missing from the wall and fence that surrounded the area. Frank stared slack-jawed while Jackson shouted into the radio at the soldiers in the other vehicles.
The four Humvees pulled off to the side of the road as the APC raced past, accelerating as it smashed over and through any vehicles and other obstacles in its path. The driver of the APC expertly guided it through a portion of the brick wall surrounding the dockyard with expert precision, taking advantage of a weak spot and hitting it at an angle to ensure the Humvees would be able to follow behind. It drove through the dockyard at full speed in a wide circle, the single machine gun turret on top swiveling around as the gunner prepared for an assault from any direction.
There was no assault, though. In fact, there was little of any sort of response to the APC’s entry whatsoever. Jackson watched from outside the compound as the APC swept through, listening to the stream of reports coming in from a soldier inside the APC.
“No contact, sir. We’ve got a few people fleeing on the western side through holes in the fence but they’re unarmed and appear to be civilians. Should we engage or pursue?”
“Negative.” Jackson replied back immediately. “Do not engage unless they appear to be hostile.”
“Copy that.” The APC rumbled across an open stretch of the dockyard and another transmission came through. “We’ve got no one at the far end, sir. Doing another pass by the near buildings. If those are clear you should be good to go.”
Jackson watched the APC turn again, half the wheels screaming in protest while the other half lifted a few inches off the ground. The armored vehicle zoomed past the wall and around the main dockyard building. Frank and Linda watched the scene from inside the Humvee, and Frank whispered to Linda without taking his eyes off of the APC. “I wonder if that guy’s still there.”
“The radiation monitor tech?”
“Yeah.”
“Doubt it. He probably ran for it when those people overran the compound.”
“Where did all the people go, anyway?” Frank scratched his chin.
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “But I don’t like it.”
Jackson jumped back in the Humvee and glanced at Frank and Linda. “Get ready. We’re heading in.”
The other three Humvees went in first, splitting up as the drivers took soldiers to three separate entrances into the main dockyard building. Jackson drove the vehicle with himself, Frank and Linda in last, watching and waiting as the groups of soldiers moved out of the Humvees and the APC and worked to secure the building. He wanted nothing more than to be in there with his men but protecting Frank and Linda was the most important task he had on his plate.
“When do we go in?” Linda asked as he eased the Humvee to a stop near the building.
“Soon. Once they’ve swept the entire building and given the all-clear.”
Linda slowly turned her head to look at him, raised an eyebrow, rolled her eyes and reached for the door handle. “Yeah, sure. You have fun with that.”
Linda pulled on the door handle and jumped out, rifle in hand, and began jogging toward the nearest entrance. Frank and Jackson watched her for a few seconds before Frank fumbled with his door, opened it and jumped out after her. Before running off he paused and looked at Jackson. “Aren’t you coming with us?”
Jackson looked at the pair heading toward the building and groaned as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the vehicle. “Son of a….”
Chapter 3
Even without the benefit of heavy equipment or tools, the civilians who overran the port did a marvelous job at tearing the place apart from top to bottom. Holes in the walls and fences surrounding the dockyard were only the tip of the iceberg and the damage was far more extensive than anyone from the convoy thought when they first encircled the main building.
Locks on shipping containers had been broken and the contents of the containers were spilled out onto the ground as looters searched feverishly for food, medical supplies and other necessities. While some of the containers did contain us
eful supplies, the vast majority of them were empty at the time the looters stormed the dockyard due to the fact that the military was being exceptionally aggressive with transporting the supplies out to the airfield as soon as they arrived at the port.
The main building and warehouses in the dockyard had nearly all of their windows broken out and the doors were broken and hanging from their hinges. The guards and staff on duty had done their level best to barricade themselves inside the buildings when the looters arrived, but they were far too outnumbered to put up any sort of a real fight. Some of the guards shot and killed a few looters but the sheer number of people storming through the dockyard meant that anyone who acted in an aggressive manner quickly faced brutal mob justice.
A few of the braver looters took small boats out to the waiting cargo ships. Some were dispatched by a group of soldiers whose job was to check the cargo ships before they were allowed to dock. Others boarded a ship whose crew barricaded themselves in the cabin, at which point the looters began tearing the ship and the containers on board apart in a frenzy to find much-needed supplies. The small craft the looters used to make it to the vessel was quickly torn apart by gunfire from the soldiers. Then, not wanting to risk the looters traveling to any more cargo vessels and finding it too risky to try and board the ship, the soldiers ended up using shaped explosives to punch a hole in the ship’s hull so that it began to slowly sink. They then evacuated from the area in their small vessel, leaving the looters and crew on board the sinking ship no choice but to try and escape by swimming back to shore.
After the actions by the offshore military team and the discovery that there were little to no supplies in the dockyard, the looters began to disband after only a few short hours spent at the port. A few stayed behind to pick through the buildings and look for anything of use but the arrival of the convoy prompted them to flee without looking back.