Divided We Fall (Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Book 6)

by W. J. Lundy

  “They cannot be allowed to leave here, not ’til they pay for Gunner’s and Parker’s deaths,” Brooks said.

  “They won’t,” Cloud said.

  Brooks looked over his shoulder at Cloud. “You’re not off the hook either.”

  “Understood.” Cloud looked down at his shoulder holster. “I have a weapon. When it happens, take it from me; it’s locked and cocked.”

  Brooks shook his head and lifted the back of his shirt; the H&K MK23 was at the center of his back. “Got my own,” Brooks said.

  Brad rubbed the belt over his back pocket. “I’m good. Let’s do this.”

  Brooks shook his head at Walker mockingly, and then turned around to face Cloud. He threw up his hands in a frustrated gesture and stepped to the aircraft’s door. Walker shouted from the back, “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

  Brooks froze and turned back at the contractor who was now charging forward, flanked by two more of the men in black. “This is pointless; I won’t be a part of it.” Brooks said. Brad looked at Brooks with honest surprise, not understanding what Brooks was doing and feeling left out of the plan.

  Walker stepped in fast and close; he reached up and grabbed the front of Brooks’ shirt, pulling him in. “You ain’t going anywhere,” Walker yelled with spittle hitting Brooks in the face. Brooks brought up his right arm between their bodies. His hand gripped the MK23, and he pressed the tip of the barrel into the meaty portion of the man’s chin. Brad caught himself up on Brooks’ organized chaos; he drew the Sigma pistol at the same time as the second contractor leveled his own weapon at Brooks. Turner quickly moved, stepping behind Cloud and placing his own M9 against the colonel’s temple.

  Civilians in the back began to scream and huddle. The remaining contractors in black moved forward and raised their weapons at the new threats.

  Cloud put his hands in the air, going along with the ruse of being a hostage. “Okay, everyone just calm down. I’m sure we can still make a deal; lower your weapons!” he shouted at the contractors.

  The contractors backed away, weapons still raised. Walker stiffened as Brooks pushed the barrel hard into the man’s chin, forcing his head to go back and look up at the ceiling. Brooks’ left arm hooked Walker’s collar and in a smooth motion, he spun Walker around, the pistol now pressed against the base of his skull. “If you want to live, get your men to stand down,” Brooks said.

  Walker hesitated, fighting the barrel. Brooks shifted his weight and forced the weapon tighter against the man’s skull, causing his legs to bend from the pain. Brooks tightened his grip with his left arm. “Your call, Walker; I can end this for you right now,” Brooks said. “You’ll have nothing left to worry about; I can make all your problems gone with the pull of a trigger.”

  “Okay, dammit; lower your weapons!” Walker ordered.

  The contractors stepped back, lowering their barrels to the deck. Brooks didn’t waste any time. “Turner, get your man to drop the ramp, and get these people off.”

  Turner shouted, “Mendez, go; get ’em out of here.”

  Mendez turned away from the others and ran along a wall of the fuselage, pushing his way through the civilians. Mendez worked the controls; the ramp unlocked and slowly began to drop. As the seal was broken, light and fresh air spilled into the cargo bay. Civilians, crowded in a cluster, started pushing to the back to escape. The ramp hit the asphalt and the refugees poured out onto the airfield. Military police from the base moved in, raising their M4s and shouting orders for the contractors to drop their guns.

  The base MPs continued moving up from the rear of the aircraft, not knowing friend from foe, keeping their weapons trained on all of them. Brad watched as the men in black slowly placed their weapons on the deck and raised their hands in surrender. The MPs turned their attention to Brad. Brad watched as Turner slowly placed his pistol on an aircraft seat in the row next to him. He released the colonel and put his hands in the air. Brad did the same and looked at Brooks; the man’s pistol was still firmly pressed into Walker’s skull.

  “Brooks, what are you doing?” Brad asked.

  Brooks ignored his question. “What do you say, Walker? You want to end this now?”

  Walker put his hands up, his knees going weak, head moving forward away from the pressure of the barrel.

  The two soldiers at the bottom of the ladder charged in, calling off the guards at the back. One took up a position next to Brad. “What the hell is going on in here?” Corporal Smith said to Brad.

  “Corporal, I am Lieutenant Colonel Cloud; I have some very important information for Colonel Ericson,” Cloud paused and put a hand on Brooks’ shoulder. “Have these men detained. Brooks, you can hand over the prisoner now.”

  Chapter 23

  Brad walked into the room. It was painted bright white, had carpeted floors, and chairs that ran along the walls. A table in the center held jugs of water and boxes of food. After the takedown at the aircraft, he was taken away and separated from the others. The civilians and his men from the compound were moved away as a group, while Brooks and Brad were taken away in a van then separated at the entrance of a building located just inside the cleared sectors.

  He was allowed to shower and change into a fresh uniform before being led to this room to await instructions. Even though he was going on nearly twenty-four hours without sleep, the cleanliness made him feel refreshed. Brad walked across the carpeted room, lifted a gallon jug of water, and popped the top. He guzzled down a quarter of it then found a seat by the window. He took the jug with him and sat back, relaxing.

  The door opened and Brooks walked in. He stopped, looked smugly at Brad, and said, “You too, huh?”

  Brad shrugged and took another drink.

  “Well, that makes me feel better; thought maybe I was in lockdown,” Brooks said. He moved to the center table and dug through the food box, finding a protein bar. Instead of moving to the chairs, he plopped down on one of the tables and took a bite of the bar before lying back.

  “So what’s next?” Brad asked.

  The door opened before Brooks could answer; the second lieutenant from the colonel’s tent walked in with another soldier behind her. “Sergeant Thompson, Petty Officer Brooks,” she said.

  Brad sat up in his chair; Brooks did not move, remaining flat on the table chewing his protein bar with his eyes closed.

  “I’m Lieutenant Speirs, aide to Colonel Ericson; sorry about before. I hope the showers and uniforms were to your standards. I was hoping to let you get some sleep before the colonel sent for you.”

  Brad took another sip off the jug and returned the cap before standing. “The colonel wants to see us?” Brad asked.

  She nodded. “Yes. If you could follow me, the briefing room is just down the hall.”

  Speirs stepped into the hallway, leaving the door open. Brad pushed up to his feet and stepped across the room in front of Brooks. Reaching down, he offered a hand and pulled the man back to his feet.

  “Long day, aye?” Brad said.

  “Had longer,” Brooks said before yawning. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Brad walked just behind Brooks, following Speirs and the MPs down a long, dark hallway. At the end, they were turned, led up a column of stairs to the top floor, and then directly across the hall. Speirs paused outside the door, knocking until she received instructions to enter. She grabbed the knob and pulled the door out into the hallway before ushering them in. Brooks entered the room first, with Brad following close behind. Brad spotted Sean standing at the front next to Cloud and Ericson. Chelsea, Shane, and Villegas were seated in leather chairs around a long, dark, wooden conference table. More men in faded battle dress uniforms—officers and senior enlisted men who Brad had never seen before—were at the far end of the table, hovering over a map.

  Brad ignored the others and moved directly to Chelsea; she stood and greeted him with a hug. Joey Villegas rose quickly, reached across, and slapped him on the back. Shane stood and stuck out his hand. �
��Ella?” Brad asked, returning Shane’s handshake.

  Chelsea smiled. “She’s fine; sleeping just down the hall. They have guards on her.” Chelsea dropped back into her leather chair next to Shane. Brad stepped back, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so happy to see you’re safe… all of you,” he said.

  “Sergeant Thompson,” Speirs called from the front of the room. Preoccupied with seeing his friends again, Brad hadn’t even watched her enter. He noticed the rest of the members of the room were either seated quietly or standing at the sides of the room. Brad let his hand drop to his side and moved along the table, finding an empty seat next to Joey.

  Lieutenant Speirs walked to a long whiteboard and pulled down a detailed overlay map of North America. Joey leaned next to Brad’s ear and whispered, “Why we here, bro? All seems a bit above our pay grade.”

  Brad shrugged and turned his attention to the front of the room. Speirs finished pulling down the map then turned to Colonel Ericson and said, “Sir.”

  Ericson nodded and took a sip from a Styrofoam cup he was holding. He walked to the map, set his cup on a wooden podium, and then stopped and looked to the uniformed men at the end of the table. “Gentlemen, I know it’s been a long twenty-four hours for all of us, but we’ve received some critical intelligence that needs to be acted on right away.

  “I hate sending you back into the fray with so little downtime, but I am sure you will all understand why and be able to relay this urgency to your troopers.” Ericson pointed across the room. “This is Lieutenant Colonel James Cloud, formerly of the Pentagon’s ground intelligence division, now a member of the Joint Chiefs’ Combined National Response Team. Cloud is probably one of the few people on the planet who actually knows what is going on.

  “Now, we have been out of pocket and ignored down here in Georgia while trying to rebuild, rescue, and recover as much of the population as possible, but we could only deal with things in our reach. Outside of some shaky radio comms and scattered reception, we’ve been blind to the world outside of this outpost.

  “I know it’s felt like we’ve been alone, that nothing is left since Washington fell. Well, the colonel has convinced me otherwise; there is more left and there is still a mission for us… an important one.” Ericson turned and called Cloud to the front.

  Cloud nodded and moved along the sides of the room, stopping just in front of the map. “I won’t bore you all with too many details, but I do feel some background information is necessary. This past summer, a terrorist group known as the Sons of Bin Laden carried out a complex and well-coordinated biological strike. Even though under close observation, they were able to make simultaneous global strikes. As far as we know, there was not a spot on the globe left uninfected by the Primal Virus. And yes, despite our best efforts at containment, they were successful, far more than even they expected to be, and as far as we can determine, many of their own forces were also devoured in the collapse.

  “Fast forward thirty days later, ninety percent of the world’s population is on the run or living behind walls. Washington fell; the United States is in chaos. Martial law is stepped up. After the evacuation of D.C., the Coordinated National Response Team was formed. Federal military assets, along with leadership from the remaining members of congress, were moved to a bunker complex in Colorado. The CNRT oversaw and provided guidance and resources to help mass population centers.

  “I assure you it was a good plan with the best of intentions, but as population centers dwindled so did hope. Many of our soldiers deserted, returning to their families. Members of congress left their posts, moving back to their districts or seeking leadership positions within the remaining governing factions.”

  A soldier at the end of the table spoke, “Factions?”

  Cloud paused and turned to the map. He dropped the colored overlays one at a time. The first transparent page colored Michigan, Ohio, and much of central and northern Wisconsin in blue. “The Midwest Alliance.” He pulled another that cast the mountainous areas of Colorado in yellow. “The Greater Colorado Nations.” The last overlay coated Texas, Oklahoma, New Mexico, and Arizona in red. “The United States of Texas.”

  “This is what’s left. Anything outside of these shaded areas, including this outpost, was considered off the grid and no support was provided to them. It was the CNRT’s version of performing an amputation to save the body… conserving resources to protect the greater good.”

  “I take it this didn’t go over well?” the soldier asked.

  Cloud nodded. “No, it didn’t. It led to desertions and even a US Navy fleet refusing to return to port when we told them Norfolk was lost and ordered them to report to Texas.”

  Ericson moved back to the front of the room. “Let’s move it along a bit.”

  Cloud nodded. “With the help of Chief Rogers and his men, we were able to recover vital information to the spread and inoculation of the Primal Virus—we took a prisoner; a patient who had the key to unlocking the virus in his bloodstream. It took us some time, but I recently received word that a cure and the process to make an anti-virus are available. The CNRT has that information; I can get it for you. This outpost has the means and resources to recover the vaccine and deliver it to the factions.”

  “If we have it, why isn’t it being delivered?” the soldier asked.

  “CNRT leadership, primarily General Reynolds, is hoping to retain information on the vaccine and use it as a form of currency to pull the factions back under central leadership. He doesn’t want the cure getting out; that is why he attacked Savannah.”

  “What?” the soldier asked, others at the end of the table sounding off along with him.

  Colonel Ericson moved back to the front. “We have solid intelligence that the men who ambushed the patrols on the roads and compromised out perimeter were with the CNRT. They had a mission to take out the young girl down the hall. Like the patient the CNRT is holding in the Mountain, the girl’s blood holds a key to making a vaccine. Rather than allowing us to develop that cure, General Reynolds chose to destroy it.”

  “I lost a lot of good men yesterday, sir,” the soldier said. “What do we plan to do about it?”

  Cloud stepped toward the table. “I can get you inside the Mountain. I can get you the cure… and I can get you the scientist and medical staff needed to replicate it. There are still laboratories and facilities in Texas that we can use—Fort Sam Houston is still up and running. I assure you, we can get this done.”

  Ericson put up a hand and moved back to the front to stand beside Cloud.

  “Gentlemen, I plan to take out the Mountain and do just that. Brief your men and get them loaded out. Every MH60 Kilo we have on hand is being fueled and ready for this operation. Rangers… get your men fitted for battle; there will be another briefing at 19:00. Prepare your questions. You are dismissed.”

  The men around the table quickly jumped to their feet, the officers rushing to the front of the room, crowding around Cloud and Ericson to ask questions. Ericson walked them to the door and ushered them into the hallway. Brad and the others got to their feet, looking confused and trying to find their own place in the coming mission. Chief moved across the room and stopped at the table.

  “Chief—” Brad said.

  “Just stand by after the others leave the room,” Sean said, walking away.

  Chelsea looked at Brad. “Did you know any of this?”

  “Just bits and pieces; I mean, it’s not all new information, right?”

  “No, I guess not,” Chelsea said. “They don’t expect us to go to this bunker and to Texas, do they?”

  “I don’t know,” Brad said.

  Ericson closed the door, the room once again growing quiet with less people in the audience. He moved directly to the table and stood near Brad and the others.

  “You’ve probably guessed it, but there is more,” Erickson said. “I wasn’t thrilled with having a hundred Afghan nationals dropped on my doorstep this afternoon.”

  “Sir
, I can expla—”

  “Don’t worry; it’s not important. I’ve already spoken to Sergeant First Class Turner; your people will be cared for.”

  Chelsea leaned across the table. “Sir, are we going to Texas?” she asked.

  Ericson looked back at her and shook his head. “No, but you can’t stay here, either. I am closing Savannah. All that will be staying behind is a small contingent to perform rescue and recovery operations; everyone else is being pulled back once I contact Sam Houston.”

  “Then what about us?” Chelsea asked.

  “You, along with the girl and the refugees, will be moved. I have three Chinook helicopters at your disposal. The first trip will deliver you and your men; you’ll need to secure the site and once it’s safe, we can deliver the rest of the civilians.”

  “What site?” Brad asked.

  Ericson pointed his hand at Cloud. “This was your part of the bargain, you sell it.”

  “Sell what?” Brad said.

  Cloud cleared his throat and leaned over the table. “In exchange for my help taking down the general and recovering the vaccine, I asked for a favor.”

  “And,” Brad asked.

  “I want you and your people to relocate to my family’s property in West Virginia. I know it sounds insane, but the place is well equipped. It’s high in the hills, up steep ground, and on a lake. There used to be a mining camp in the area, so there is plenty of room for everyone from your compound. We know the Primals are thin in the area; it will be safe there.”

  “Why us, why there?”

  Cloud bit on his lip. “My family is there, and I trust you with their safety.”

  “And if I refuse?” Brad asked.

  “This wasn’t an offer, Sergeant,” Ericson added.

  Chapter 24