Fifth Column: Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction (The Lone Star Series Book 5)

by Bobby Akart

  Holloway deployed three teams to each of the substations designed and built to integrate LP&L into the ERCOT system. In order to cut off energy to Lubbock and most of the Texas Panhandle, all three substations needed to be taken off-line. Otherwise, the newly designed system would simply transfer power from one to the other to pick up the slack.

  The design, as implemented by the power companies, was an ingenious approach to allow continuous power to consumers in the event of one or even two failures. However, the ERCOT engineers never envisioned a simultaneous attack on all three.

  From his position across from Camp Lubbock, Holloway communicated with his men who’d positioned themselves outside the North, Wadsworth, and New Oliver facilities of LP&L. Holloway wished he had more rocket-propelled grenades. As it was, he had to hide his possession of these three RPGs from General Lee because they had been taken from his soldiers after his men killed them.

  He would be judicious in their use, hopefully saving one for the proverbial rainy day.

  Holloway checked his watch. It was almost time. Throughout Texas, North Korean commandos were in position to initiate their attacks using a combination of stealth techniques to enter the facilities, explosives to bring down the critical infrastructure to transmit energy across Texas, and automatic gunfire to destroy the transformers designed to convert high-voltage power to the lower voltage used in every home and business in the country.

  When their assaults on the Texas power grid were complete, all of the new nation would experience the collapse endured by Americans and the apocalyptic world of darkness it created.

  It was four past midnight. It was time.

  Chapter 31

  January 21

  Comanche Peak Nuclear Power Plant

  Near Glen Rose, Texas

  General Lee was a soldier, but he was also a student of terrorism. Spending the last decade in Canada and digesting American media had given him a different perspective on the art of war. Gone were the days when two mighty armies lined up across from one another to battle over territory. Insurgency warfare was successful, utilizing preplanning, patience, and surprise to inflict damage upon the enemy. He was about to embark on a battle that would accomplish what Dear Leader’s bombs could not—knock the arrogant Texans down to their knees.

  He’d handpicked these men weeks ago for their proficiency in the use of explosives. Together with the rocket-propelled grenades, he would attack the crown jewel in the ERCOT power grid—the Comanche Peak Nuclear Power Plant located thirty miles southwest of Fort Worth.

  Comanche Peak was one of two nuclear power plants in Texas, the other being located near the Gulf Coast of Texas. Comanche Peak, with its four fully operational reactors, provided power to the Dallas-Fort Worth area with over a million homes.

  Just as important, its strategic location within Texas made Comanche Peak a strategic cog in the wheel of power lines traversing the country. Bringing it down, together with the massive transmission lines surrounding the plant itself, would be a devastating blow to ERCOT’s ability to distribute power.

  The task would not be an easy one. In addition to the size of the sprawling complex, there were as many as three hundred employees working shifts at the plant at any given time, although the numbers were substantially less after midnight.

  Security personnel manned an entry gate to the most restricted parts of Comanche Peak and were supplemented by patrols who drove around the facility in small white pickup trucks with yellow lights flashing continuously. During the early evening, when nighttime set in, Lee was appreciative of the flashing lights, which allowed his team to keep tabs on the roving patrols at all times.

  Geographically, the location of the power plant presented a challenge for him. It was situated on a peninsula that jutted out into the Squaw Creek Reservoir. Using the lake water to cool their reactors was the primary reason for the design, but it presented a problem for any attacker, terrorist or otherwise, to gain access.

  The long entry road to the plant prevented Lee’s men from getting close to the facility by vehicle. Breaching the facility and strategically placing explosives was out of the question. Fortunately, he had other weapons at his disposal.

  An infantry squad in the Korean People’s Army included two Type 69 RPG operators carrying one launcher and three grenade rounds. The Type 69 was a shoulder-launched antitank grenade launcher designed by the Chinese and sold to North Korea. A clone of the Russian RPG-7, the weapon had significant firepower and was portable.

  The problem for Lee was its limited effective range of under a thousand feet. The reactors at Comanche Peak were positioned well away from the facility’s entrance, and therefore a frontal assault was out of the question. However, he had another option.

  Across the Squaw Creek Reservoir was a wooded area with several high points that looked down upon the nuclear power plant. The location was ideal for other reasons. The four targets, the nuclear reactors, were situated on the end of the peninsula nearest this part of the lake. Further, after the attack was completed, Lee would have an easy exit out of the area to regroup with his men before they found their way toward his next group of targets.

  The eighty-five-millimeter warhead was certainly capable of inflicting sufficient damage to cause the destruction of the containment building that housed the control rods and the uranium fuel. Secondary rounds would be focused on turbines, generators, and transformers that connected the containment building to the cooling towers.

  Lee checked in with his demolition experts. Power lines departed the facility in two directions strung atop transmission towers capable of supporting the high-voltage conductors and the lines themselves. These structures were designed to withstand intense weather like hurricanes and tornadoes, as well as being rammed by vehicles, whether intentionally or by accident.

  While in America, awaiting this moment to unleash their hatred, the Lightning Death Squads had accumulated weapons of war, including dynamite. The powerful explosive was often used in drilling and blasting operations for road construction, mining, and quarrying.

  Isolated incidents of dynamite being stolen from construction sites occurred over the years and were rarely solved. Fortunately for the government, the use of the stolen dynamite never materialized. In many of these occurrences, Lee’s commandos were responsible for the theft.

  His men identified two consecutive transmission towers away from the nuclear power plant to destroy, which would result in a domino effect of collapsing towers in both directions. By destroying both the plant and its means for carrying electricity, one of the most populated areas of Texas would lose power and its ability to effectuate repairs on Comanche Peak for months if not years.

  Lee checked his watch. It was four past midnight. It was time.

  The operatives who were assigned to the massive power line towers were instructed to detonate the TNT affixed to the tower’s base when they observed Holloway’s first volley of a rocket-propelled grenade into Comanche Peak.

  He tapped his gunner on the shoulder, and the first RPG was launched. A whoosh of fire blasted out of the rear of the launcher, warming the faces of Lee and his secondary shooters. Before the rocket made contact at the nuclear power plant, Lee ordered the next man to be ready.

  A spotter observed the detonation.

  “One hundred feet to the left. Adjust sights!”

  The next gunner modified the presets on his infrared night-vision sights accordingly.

  “Ready. Fire!”

  Once again, the sound of the rocket-propelled grenade cut through the night sky, now flying silently toward its target until the explosion filled the center of the system of pipes, power generators, and transformers that made up the connection between the cooling towers on the left and the containment building on the right.

  The spotter shouted, “Direct hit,” but no one could hear him. His voice was muted by the intense explosions that occurred on both sides of the Comanche Peak peninsula as the transmission towers and power lines
were blown off their concrete platforms.

  Like mighty oak trees cut down by lumberjacks, the towers’ steel strained under the pressure as its stability was taken away by the blasts. Slowly, the towers began to topple until the four marked for demolition fell toward the ground, dragging down power lines and towers on each side of them as well.

  Lee approached his spotter. “What about the containment building?”

  “Still standing, sir. Adjust sights forty feet to the right.”

  Lee gave the directive to his next gunner. Tension surrounded the commandos as he made his adjustments, took aim and fired.

  Whoosh!

  Once again, the fire thrust the RPG toward its target. Now the power was out at the facility, and it was immersed in darkness except for a few vehicles’ headlights and the never-ending yellow emergency lights on the now stationary patrols.

  They waited to hear from the spotter.

  “Direct hit on the containment structure. Building walls breached, but interior intact. One more, sir. Exact same location.”

  “Same gunner. Fire when ready!” ordered Lee.

  The commando remained in his position as the launcher was reloaded.

  “Ready,” he announced. “Firing!”

  Lee pulled out his binoculars and watched the RPG as it sailed toward the target. He was the first to see the results of their efforts.

  The inside of the containment building with its reactor and uranium-filled control rods disappeared in a bright-white explosion. Lee put away his binoculars and smiled. Then he mumbled to himself, “Now you will live like we do.”

  Chapter 32

  January 21

  Lubbock, Texas

  At this hour, there was no traffic around Lubbock, especially in the relatively low population area surrounding Camp Lubbock. Nonetheless, Holloway and his men took great precautions to avoid detection. Throughout the evening, his men got into position. Directly across Regis Street several ranch-style homes overlooked Camp Lubbock. His catlike commandos systematically infiltrated these homes and quietly killed their occupants using their knives and professionally trained bare hands.

  Holloway had no illusions as to whether he’d be successful in his plans. Relying upon the diversions created at the substations and another surprise he had for the good people of Lubbock, he was hoping on a mistake by the young warrior who’d disrupted his hijacking of the fuel truck back in Arizona.

  “Payback’s a bitch, pal,” muttered Holloway as he lowered his monocular and focused on the reports coming in from his four units around the city.

  One of the great advantages afforded the United States military was the superior audio-visual equipment provided to their soldiers. Not only could members of a unit communicate directly with one another, but the visual footage sent back to their commanders on the ground, and in the States, gave the U.S. a substantial advantage over its adversaries.

  Holloway felt fortunate to have a handful of satellite telephones at their disposal considering the impact the EMP had had on most electronics. To keep him abreast of their progress, one of the riflemen assigned to shooting out the transformers at the substations doubled as his communications man in the field.

  Holloway phoned each team in succession, receiving details of their maneuvers and doling out advice as needed. All three units assigned to the substations around Lubbock were instructed to make their move precisely at four past midnight. The first of his RPGs would be used as a diversionary tactic while causing disarray at the same time. They were awaiting his orders.

  Holloway stood alone on the northbound lane of Interstate 27, watching the activity take place at Camp Lubbock. It took seven minutes following the initial attacks upon the substations for the power grid to collapse in the city, but it required another ten minutes for the soldiers stationed below him to react.

  Trucks were assembling, and men in full combat gear were scrambling to get into position to be deployed. Holloway waited patiently for the Texas Guardsmen to leave the facility. His hope was that only a skeleton crew would be left behind to defend their armory. If his plan was successful, his team would be met with little resistance.

  One unit at a time began to pull out of the camp. They turned either left or right depending upon the substation they were responding to. He’d calculated the time for them to travel to each of the substations, stage their units, and await further orders. Just as the guardsmen arrived at the remote LP&L facilities, he’d draw out the remaining soldiers with an RPG attack on the Lubbock County Sheriff’s Office.

  He studied his watch and received confirmation of success from the substation teams. By design, they were instructed to return to Camp Lubbock to assist in the assault upon the armory, but their indirect route would avoid running head-on into the responding guardsmen. The additional minute or two was worth the advantage the extra manpower afforded him.

  Anxious, Holloway checked his watch again and referred to his notes to confirm his calculations. He telephoned the team positioned on a rooftop across from the sheriff’s office. From their close proximity, the RPG would inflict maximum damage upon the town’s sole source of law enforcement, as both the Lubbock Police Department and the sheriff’s office had been consolidated under one roof.

  Holloway gave the order. He closed his eye and listened.

  In the quiet of the night, the explosion sounded massive. Holloway grinned and turned to watch a plume of smoke rise into the sky, illuminated by the fire created by the powerful RPG. After admiring his handiwork, he turned his attention back to Camp Lubbock, awaiting the anticipated overreaction in the form of more troops leaving to respond to the explosion.

  It never came.

  Chapter 33

  January 21

  Camp Lubbock

  Lubbock, Texas

  Soldiers returning home from combat duty often experience night sweats, vivid dreams, and sleep apnea as a result of living through the horrors of war. Not every veteran was wired the same, and luckily for Duncan, he wasn’t haunted by the nightmares of his time in battle or the assassinations he’d carried out on behalf of his country.

  The fist rapping on his door was different from a light knock indicating his oh-six-hundred wake-up request. His subconscious was screaming at him—trouble! He shot up on his cot and looked for the glowing red display of the LED clock behind his desk.

  It wasn’t visible. Duncan blinked and quickly rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, trying to gain his night vision in the darkness. The evening’s new moon provided no ambient light through the windows.

  The knocking continued, now accompanied by an urgency-filled voice. “Commander, we have a situation, sir. Commander Duncan? Sir?”

  “Yeah, come in,” replied Duncan. He slept in his fatigue pants and a tee shirt. He fumbled under his cot, looking for his boots, when a young soldier unfamiliar to Duncan entered the room. Duncan opened his eyes wide to make out who he was.

  “Sir, we have a power outage,” the young man explained as he took a step inside.

  “Soldier, has Sergeant Esparza been notified of the situation?”

  “Yessir, he sent me to wake you,” the young man replied. “Sir, the outage is citywide.”

  Duncan found his way across his office toward the window that overlooked Regis Street and the main entrance to the base. There were no lights on anywhere. He looked skyward and saw stars.

  Suddenly, bright lights filled his windows, causing him to immediately close his eyes and turn away. The sound of generators being started provided an explanation.

  “Get me some type of portable lighting—a lantern, flashlight, or candles. I don’t care. Find Sergeant Esparza and send him to me immediately.”

  “Yes, sir!” the messenger saluted and spun around as he quickly exited through Duncan’s door.

  Duncan’s mind raced. Power outages occasionally occurred in normal times, but the sudden loss of electricity when the weather was clear and demand low was suspicious.

  Using the lights tha
t now filled his office from the front gate, he walked back to his cot and powered up his satellite phone. That ruled out another EMP.

  Duncan finished dressing and strapped on his weapon. He then approached a box in the corner of the office, which contained over a dozen rolled-up maps of the region within his command. In addition to road and topography maps, he recalled one map labeled ERCOT.

  In the limited light, he pulled the maps out and spread them across his desk until he found the one he was looking for. Frustrated, Duncan eventually swept everything off his desk onto the floor by his cot and rolled open the map of the substations, transformers and power lines that made up the LP&L system.

  Espy entered his office. “Commander, I have teams ready to respond. I do not believe this is a typical power outage. Our street patrols reported seeing sparks flying near the North substation in addition to automatic gunfire.”

  “Like California,” Duncan mumbled as he identified the North substation on the map. The soldier returned with a portable Coleman lantern and set it on Duncan’s desk.

  “I agree, sir,” added Espy. “Your orders, sir?”

  “Dispatch three teams to each of these locations,” replied Duncan as he pointed out the LP&L substations that connected their utility to the ERCOT power grid. “Sergeant, I want constant radio contact with our men. This might be part of something bigger.”

  “Bigger, sir?”

  “Just a hunch. Go, and get back here ASAP,” replied Duncan. He then turned to the young man who had awakened him. “What’s your name, soldier?”