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

by Bobby Akart

  Duncan had Espy stop the truck for a moment as he got out to shake hands with Antonio and two of the ranch hands. He warned them to be on the lookout for the North Korean commandos. Antonio was very familiar with the areas surrounding Patricia and nearby Vealmoor. He assured Duncan they’d increase their awareness to protect the ranch.

  As Espy drove along the hard-packed gravel driveway leading to the barns, Duncan reflected on the condition of the ranch. Even for late January, the lack of cattle and activity was disconcerting. Granted, he’d been away for the majority of the last eight years, but to view the bleak surroundings saddened him. Perhaps it was the reality setting in that Texas had joined the apocalyptic world around them. Regardless, he tried to shake off his sense of foreboding as the low lights emitted from the ranch house came into view.

  The Humvee pulled to a stop, and before he could open the door, his family was bounding down the stairs off the front porch, led by Sook, who was going to be the first to get a hug from their returning warriors.

  He hoisted her up in his arms and twirled her one-hundred-twenty-pound frame in a circle. Sook had gained weight since her arrival at the Armstrong Ranch, and most of it was in the form of muscle. Between her work around the ranch and her taekwondo training with Palmer, she’d become much more athletic.

  After the two finished their reunion, Duncan hugged his mother. His brothers got their usual manly bro-hugs. Standing on the porch, observing the joyful return, were Preacher and Major who stood like bookends, arms folded, holding up the tree-skinned porch posts.

  “Come on, everyone,” shouted Miss Lucy. “Let’s get out of this night air. Boys, I have some leftover cowboy stew for you guys. I made sausage out of the last of the hog meat stored in the refrigerator together with all the vegetables I had. We’re trying to clean out the fridge, so I threw the recipe book out the window on this one.”

  “Hey, Riley, was it good?” asked Duncan jokingly.

  “Dang straight! I woofed down two bowls.”

  “C’mon, Duncan.” Preacher laughed. “He’s the last one to ask. He’s like that Mikey kid on the old Life cereal commercials.”

  “I remember those commercials,” added Major.

  “Of course you do, old-timer,” said Lucy with a laugh and a gentle pat on her husband’s chest as she passed him on the porch.

  Duncan and Espy removed their gear and then were directed to sit by the warm fire, where they were promptly flanked on each side by Sook and Palmer. It was clear that Palmer, who’d feigned restraint when she greeted Espy, was clearly smitten with Duncan’s aide-de-camp.

  While Lucy warmed them a bowl of stew atop their wood-burning stove, which sat in the corner of the kitchen, Major lit more candles to increase the lighting in the living room. Duncan and Espy recounted the events of earlier this morning together with their search of Patricia for the North Koreans.

  After an exhaustive search looking for clues, their only lead was the stalled vehicle heading toward the New Mexico border with the map covered in Korean writing. Duncan retrieved the map and handed it to Sook so she could interpret the markings.

  She held the map so it could be read in the light of the fire. Espy told the Armstrong family how well-respected Duncan was by everyone in the unit because of his levelheaded approach to the attack and his individual bravery. After he finished, Sook took the floor.

  “This map has been written by three people,” she began, pointing to the Hangul, the alphabet of the Korean language put into use in the fifteenth century. “Every Korean has their own handwriting style. Women are more precise; men are often sloppy or incorrect. These markings that cover most of the map are to designate specific locations. These symbols mean truck.”

  Duncan interrupted. “We disabled half a dozen new Ford King Ranch models that surrounded Camp Lubbock. The trucks that got away were also Fords but looked more like F-250s. I believe these were stolen and used to transport the North Korean commandos to Patricia after the attack on the Hobbs checkpoint.”

  He looked at Sook and smiled, so she continued. “The second set of markings are directed toward this location.” She looked to Duncan for assistance.

  “That’s Patricia,” interjected Duncan. “This means that an advance team, led by this guy Holloway we just told you about, has been hiding out in Patricia for a couple of weeks or more.”

  Duncan went on to lay out his theory that he and Sook had crossed paths with Holloway on at least two occasions since their arrival in Arizona. He relayed what he’d learned from the two prisoners, being careful to use the word questioning rather than interrogation or torture.

  At one point, as he relayed his findings, he glanced at his mother, who stared a hole through him. Lucy gave him a slight smile, as if to say, I know how you got this information, and thank you for sparing your mother the details. He provided her a wink in return.

  “What are the third markings?” asked Cooper.

  “These arrows point toward the west with the words home base written over here,” replied Sook. Once again, she handed the map to Duncan and pointed out where the Korean symbols for home base were located.

  “That’s Carlsbad Caverns. The prisoners told me that was where they waited until all of the commandos arrived from Mexico to join them in the attack. I don’t believe they would go back there.”

  “Why not, son?” asked Major.

  “Dad, whoever planned this assault on our grid and Camp Lubbock, whether it was Holloway or Lee, was an astute tactician. The plan was well executed and went very well for them until they decided to attack our armory. It’s my belief that Holloway did that on his own. He may have gone rogue, or it was some sort of prize he was awarded by Lee for his efforts. I won’t know until I look into his eye and force it out of him.”

  “Eye?” asked Palmer inquisitively.

  “Yeah. Holloway only has one eye. To make matters worse, he never wears a patch, choosing instead to let his gruesome socket intimidate people around him.”

  Major, who enjoyed following the trail of a criminal on the run, continued. “Well, you have the abandoned car containing this map pointed west. You have markings on the map as a clue. Did you follow up on the possible lead?”

  “I did, Dad, but with only one Humvee. I really thought it was all too convenient.”

  “Duncan, there is one more thing,” interrupted Sook. “This writing is the same as the arrows and base camp.”

  “What does it read?” asked Duncan.

  “Stupid Texans.”

  She handed the map to Duncan, who quickly folded it up and threw it on the coffee table. “Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?” he asked rhetorically.

  Lucy took the guys’ empty bowls and offered them more, but they declined. Duncan expressed their regrets, but the two of them needed to return to Camp Lubbock to help with repairs or a possible relocation. Before they took off, they discussed the ramifications of the power outage and the fact Holloway’s group was still at large.

  “Surely, they wouldn’t stick around, right?” asked Preacher. “You fellas were hot on their trail.”

  “Logically, I’d agree with you, Preach,” said Major. “From what Duncan has described, this bunch is as unpredictable as they are capable. We shouldn’t underestimate them.”

  “I agree, Dad,” added Duncan. “What sickens me about the raid on Camp Lubbock is that not only did we lose a lot of good people, but my team’s numbers were decimated. I had plans to station a unit here at all times if things got bad for some reason. With the grid down and these thugs at large, things are bad, and I’m unable to free up any manpower to help the ranch.”

  Major reassured him. “That’s all right, son. Don’t sweat it. I believe Holloway and his men left the area. It would have been the smart thing to do. If he was, in fact, ex-military, as your prisoners stated, he would know that your unit would be looking for revenge. I wouldn’t stick around if I were him.”

  “Okay, then I have one more thing,” said Duncan. H
e took a deep breath and quickly debated saying this in front of Espy but decided to be transparent about his thoughts. “Should I quit the TX-QRF to help protect the ranch?”

  “Wow, that’s a tough one, son,” said Major.

  “Dad, if I stay on, my hands are gonna be full all the time. My time at the ranch will be limited because of the grid being down. Holloway and his commandos will be the least of my worries. Cities like Lubbock and Amarillo were on edge before ERCOT collapsed. People are gonna lose it when they learn the power isn’t coming back on for a long time.”

  Lucy spoke up. As always, her voice, her vote, trumped all others. “Duncan, you agreed to take on this job, and you should see it through, at least in the short-term. As Espy has conveyed to us, you have an excellent relationship with your unit, and they need you right now. More importantly, Texas does too. Don’t get me wrong, I love you and I’d feel safer if you were home with us. At the same time, I know you, Duncan. You are an unselfish man who’ll do what it takes for God and country. Finish your job, and then make this decision. Now is not the time.”

  The decision to defer was made by the Armstrong matriarch.

  Duncan and Sook rose off the hearth together and immediately hugged Miss Lucy.

  “I love you both,” Lucy whispered into their ears. “I will take care of this young lady, please know that.”

  “I do, Momma,” said Duncan.

  The three of them held their embrace, and Duncan assisted in wiping off the tears created by the emotional moment.

  Finally, Duncan prepared to leave, but he passed on a few final words to everyone.

  “Every time I left the ranch when I was deployed or sent on a special op, I knew it would be hard on me and you guys. Y’all may have noticed that I never said goodbye. I tried the first time I left for the Middle East, and you have no idea how hard it was on me.”

  “Us too, son,” added Major.

  “So new rule of engagement, okay? Let’s just say see ya later. How’s that sound?”

  “Yeah, see ya later!” shouted Lucy as tears still seeped from her eyes.

  “Adios, amigos,” said Espy laughingly.

  “After a while, crocodile!” added Palmer.

  “Gotta go, buffalo!” yelled Cooper.

  Duncan gave Sook a quick kiss and grabbed Espy by the arm. “We gotta get out of here.”

  Everyone was laughing as they continued throwing goodbye sayings at Duncan and Espy.

  “Take care, polar bear.”

  “Got to truck, baby buck!”

  Duncan and Espy couldn’t contain their laughter as they put on their combat kits and picked up their rifles. As Duncan flung open the door to make his escape, another saying flew in their direction. It was from Preacher.

  “Don’t let the door hit you in the—!”

  “Hey! No mas! No mas!” begged Duncan as he and Espy pushed one another in their desperate attempt to get to the Humvee.

  Chapter 45

  January 21

  The White House

  Washington, DC

  “Thank you all for providing me this detailed assessment of what has transpired in Texas today,” started President Harman as she addressed the contingent from the Pentagon and Langley, who’d piecemealed together a report of the North Korean attack on the Texas power grid. “I understand your job was made difficult by the lack of cooperation from your counterparts in Austin. Thank goodness there are still members of our former military who are willing to be candid with you.”

  After everyone filed out, only Chief of Staff Acton remained and the designated representative from the CIA for this briefing, Billy Yancey.

  “Mr. Yancey, I understand you have some additional insight into the events in Texas today?” asked a curious President Harman. She looked at her watch and saw that it was approaching ten p.m.

  “I do, Madam President,” replied Yancy. “Although my role within the agency has changed dramatically after the grid collapse, I’ve still managed to retain my expertise in analyzing other nation’s governments. I have some suggestions that might interest you.”

  “This sounds like a conversation that is best conducted over a drink, gentlemen. Also, away from the prying ears of snooping staffers.”

  She rose from her chair, and the trio made their way to the Oval Office. Once inside, Acton closed the door behind them and immediately approached the bar. He filled the president a glass of wine first and then poured whisky in the remaining two glasses.

  The president took a generous sip of wine and began. “I can only imagine what’s going through Marion’s head right now. Listen, when the EMP hit, I was caught off guard, and it was a total shock to my system. Marion’s in a tougher spot. She was dealing with the secession, followed by food shortages, and then the borders collapsed on a couple of occasions. This must be a lot for her to handle.”

  Acton resisted the urge to point out that all of these crises were of Burnett’s own doing, but he bit his tongue. The purpose of this casual conversation was to manipulate the president into moving in the direction he wanted. Yancey, as an impartial advisor who was in the White House by happenstance, was a perfect bird to chirp in the ear of the president. If Yancey could help lead her to make certain decisions, without Acton being accused of bias, then the evening would be a win-win.

  “It is, Madam President,” started Yancey. “As you know, the CIA has a history of regime change that dates back to the 1940s. Our most recent efforts in Syria took two decades to effectuate, but we were finally on the brink of collapsing the Assad regime when the EMP changed everything.”

  “How does this apply to Texas?” asked Acton, trying to force the conversation where he wanted it to go.

  “Well, typically, regime change involves overthrowing a tyrant or dictator in favor of a political opponent that has a pro-democracy point of view. It doesn’t always work out, but the CIA’s covert involvement in the politics of other nations has a decent track record.”

  The president stared at Yancey over the top of her glass as she drank. Acton saw this and became nervous because he thought Yancey was coming on a little too strong.

  Acton faked incredulity. “Are you advocating overthrowing the Austin government?”

  “No, no. Of course not,” Yancey backtracked, clearly picking up on Acton’s tone. “Actually, what I have in mind is a way to help President Burnett out of a bad situation and perhaps create a result that might elevate President Harman to the levels of Lincoln.”

  The president perked up at this response. Now she appeared engaged and intrigued. Although she wasn’t speaking, Acton knew she was thinking.

  “Based upon your experience in these circumstances, what do you suggest?” asked Acton, the former attorney who remembered how to phrase a question for maximum impact.

  “It’s possible President Burnett is in over her head and today’s events have pushed her to the edge of the cliff,” started Yancey. “I’m not suggesting a regime change in any sense of the term. Maybe the more appropriate terminology is a reset.”

  “What does that look like?” asked the president.

  Finally, Acton thought to himself. She’s receptive.

  Yancey made the pitch. “The end game is to bring the nation back together, just like Abraham Lincoln did following the Civil War. Offer President Burnett a path to returning Texas to the United States without repercussions to her or those who assisted in the secession effort.”

  Acton took a chance with the good cop, bad cop routine. “She’s a traitor, Mr. Yancey, and so are those who stood with her as they turned their backs on America in her time of need. Texas is getting a taste of what we’ve endured. I don’t think we should allow the treasonous opportunists any chance at redemption.”

  Acton paused and waited for a response from the president. She finished her glass of wine, and he jumped out of his chair to refill it.

  “Thank you, Charles. However, I think you’re being too hard on Marion. While I disagree with what she’s done, I
’d much rather everyone swallow their pride for the good of the country. If a path could be devised whereby we accomplish this reset, as this gentleman proposes, I think it should be considered.”

  Yes! Yancey had pried the door open, and now it was time for Acton to get on board the bandwagon. He delivered the president her second glass of wine.

  “Madam President, as you know, I’ve been quite vocal about my opinions toward President Burnett and the Texans in general. That said, I could be persuaded to let bygones be bygones for the good of the country. We’d have to offer a few things and ask for some concessions on her part.”

  Yancey broke in. “Let me interject something here. I’m a former Texan and have met President Burnett in person on a couple of occasions. She is larger than life in Texas, so saving face will be the most important aspect of all of this. You will need to promise her—and anyone, for that matter, who participated in the secession movement—complete immunity from prosecution for treason or any other crimes that the folks in the DOJ might concoct.”

  “Blanket pardons?” asked the president.

  “There is precedent,” replied Acton. “Lincoln issued an amnesty order during the Civil War for all Confederates who agreed to return their allegiance to the Union. President Trump could have immediately ended the Mueller investigation by issuing a blanket presidential pardon to anyone involved in the alleged collusion with Russia, as well as the myriad of investigations that sprang out of the special prosecutor’s far-reaching tentacles.”

  President Harman laughed and took a big gulp of wine. “Well, Trump made a mistake by not doing so. That investigation dogged him for the four years of his presidency and gave our campaign plenty of ammo to shoot. In our war room sessions back in 2018 immediately after the midterms, we literally prayed for the investigation to continue so the media would have a bone to go after.”

  Acton nodded and smiled. “Not that I care, but the stepping down of his attorney general and the appointment of the special counsel ruined his presidency. He had to fight the media daily and never could overcome the stigma even though the premise for appointing Mueller in the first place was completely bogus.”