Divided We Fall (Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Book 6)

by W. J. Lundy

  “Just hit the button so we can get his over with,” Sean said, pointing to the single backlit button on the wall of the lift.

  Chapter 27.

  He walked ahead following Cloud along the dark corridor. The air was different here, much cooler and more damp, musty with the odor of mildew. This part of the corridor was empty and dark, only the distant end lit with bright lights. Sean could see activity at the far end of the hall; men in black uniforms rushed back and forth, running from room to room.

  “They are taking everything with them,” Cloud said, watching the shadows that darted from one room to another, gathering bags on a large cart.

  Sean kept his eyes trained ahead, his posture becoming tactical; his knees bent as he stalked forward through the dark, the MP5’s stock finding its way into the pocket on his shoulder. “Where are they going with it?” Sean asked. “Would the general know we were coming?”

  “Probably another hide site. There are more like this one; the general would know where they are and how to gain access. I’m sure he had his suspicions that this day would come.”

  “Would he be welcome there, will the other sites take him in?”

  “With the cure and a private army… yes,” Cloud answered.

  Men at the end of the hall finished piling their loot on the large cart; they gathered around it, carrying their weapons on slings. They began pushing it toward the lift in Sean’s direction. Sean dropped into the alcove of a doorway; Cloud fell in behind him, pushing close. “What’s the play, Colonel; we could go back and disable the lift, trap them down here.”

  “No, can’t risk it; this has to end here,” Cloud said.

  “There are a lot of ’em and I’m guessing they won’t lie down like your boy upstairs,” Sean said.

  Cloud put his hand on Sean’s shoulder, watching the cart move closer. “You can go, Chief… I got this.”

  “Yeah, doesn’t work that way. Get ready to drop your NODs, sir.” Sean let his weapon hang on the sling, backed deeper into the alcove, and removed two grenades from his vest. Taking one in each hand, he pulled the pins and looked back at Cloud. “We go fast and hard; this is going to get messy.”

  Cloud swallowed and nodded his head. “Just do it.”

  Sean looked around the corner; the cart was within fifty meters. He let the first grenade’s spoon fly free then cooked it for a two count before tossing it down the hall. He then followed it up with the second, pulling back into the alcove just as the explosion ripped and echoed while throwing a thick cloud of concrete dust and smoke up the tunnel. Sean stepped back into the dark, leveled his suppressed MP5, and fired a quick burst, blasting out the florescent lights in the ceiling.

  He pulled his optics down over his eyes and pulled Cloud out into the corridor. Men lay scattered on the floor; those who were not dead moved around coughing and tried to orient themselves in the dark. Sean illuminated them with the green laser from his weapon, firing quick shots in their bodies. He paused, scanning those that lay around the cart. “If it moves, kill it!”

  Ahead, someone fired a tracer round that burned past him, the 5.56 gunfire extra loud in the confined space. Sean sidestepped to the right and ducked while firing a volley in the direction of the muzzle flash. They moved past an open door, and Sean turned, seeing movement inside. He grabbed Cloud, halting him, and snatched a grenade from the colonel’s vest; he tossed it into the room and closed the door, the blast throwing it back open.

  “Where is he?” Sean said. Taking aim at a man patrolling ahead with a flashlight, Sean fired a single shot to the man’s chest—dropping him to the floor—then another round, killing him. Cloud fired more shots at men who were following the point man, hitting one, while Sean dropped the other two.

  “We need to get moving; they are going to get smart on us soon,” Sean said. “We won’t be able to hold them all off if they coordinate.”

  Cloud ran ahead and turned into a break off the tunnel then cut again, moving to the left. Gunfire erupted behind them as the guards panic-fired into the dark where they thought Sean still lurked. Cloud halted Sean with a fist as he approached an open vault, a large box of paperwork keeping the door from shutting. Cloud pivoted and looked into a narrow hallway—the inner door was also ajar.

  Sean followed close behind Cloud through the airlock and into a dimly lit command center. Sean looked at the large screens and maps hanging on the walls, rows of empty workstations, and powered-off flat-paneled monitors. “Damn, you all commanding a moon mission down here?” Sean asked.

  Ignoring the comment, Cloud stayed ahead of him, keeping his weapon up. Sean frowned as he followed the colonel down the walkway leading along the back wall of the command center. At the end of the walkway on the left was a glass breakout room; light leaked out from the windows. Cloud moved away from the wall and closer to the consoles. The door to the breakout hung open; Cloud made a wide turn and stepped inside, Sean staying just behind him.

  Cloud moved into the room and stopped at a large wooden conference table. Sean posted up in the doorway so he could both see inside and cover the walkway. At the end of the conference room, an old man in a partial Army dress uniform stood up and backed away from a bank of cabinets; his face showed shock as he looked at Cloud.

  “You son of a bitch. I thought you were dead, James.” The man clapped his hands while smiling; he took a step forward, stopping when Cloud raised the barrel of his weapon.

  “Why did you do it? Why did you send them after the girl?” Cloud asked. “You have the cure; why couldn’t it be enough?”

  The general stopped and leaned over the head of the table. “You know why, James. It’s like the thirteen colonies out there, all making decisions independent of one another. We cannot have everyone doing their own thing. We need something… something big to pull us all back together.”

  “So you would hold the cure and pick who lives and who dies?”

  “No, but I could leverage it as currency. Influence decision-making, at least until we are all united again. It’s the only way we survive, James. United, we stand… Divided, we fall.”

  Cloud lowered his head, shaking it. “It’s over, sir.”

  The general stood, pounded his fists into the hardwood table, and shouted, “This isn’t over; it’s only the beginning!”

  “We have Simmons, we have the research, and we have the girl. Colonel Ericson will be delivering it to Fort Sam Houston; he promises me we will distribute it globally as soon as possible. Once we stop the spread, we can begin the eradication of the infected. The nation’s politics can work themselves out.” Cloud lowered his weapon and dropped his head. “I’m done.”

  General Reynolds stepped away from the table and reached for his jacket hanging over a chair. “Dammit, Cloud, get back here. It’s not too late; we can still fix this.”

  Cloud turned his back and walked to the door.

  “We’ve come too far, done too much to quit now. James, don’t you walk away from me!”

  Reynolds pulled at his jacket, spinning his chair; a black 1911 became visible in a shoulder holster under the jacket. Sean spotted the weapon as the general took it in the palm of his hand. Sean stepped forward, taking aim and attempting to fire—Cloud was in his line of sight. Sean yelled a warning and dove forward, tackling Cloud, both men firing weapons as he fell.

  Chapter 28.

  Hassan smiled and embraced Brad in a long hug, letting go only to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. “We have much to talk about, my friend,” Hassan said jovially. “I have a wife now; you must meet her. We can find you a wife as well.”

  Brad smiled back at the Afghan scout, looking beyond him to the large group of people moving down the trail toward the lake camp. “You did good, Hassan; you kept them all together.”

  “And you brought us here,” Hassan said. “The fighting can end now.”

  As Dan promised, they were high in the mountains, far from any sign of Primals or bandits. Wood-sided buildings surrounded a large, c
lear, blue lake. A tall grassy field ran up the hillside meeting towering trees. The field could be used for farming, and Dan said the woods were full of game, so there would be no shortage of food.

  “It’ll be good here, Hassan. You can have a new start,” Brad said.

  “We can all have a new start.” Hassan grinned. Looking over the land in deep thought, his gaze turned to the long column of people moving to the lake. “Yes, we will. Brad, I would like to see you tonight at the dinner fire,” Hassan said, leaving to catch up with the others.

  A man came up behind him and slapped an arm around his shoulder. “So, what do ya think?”

  It was Turner; he pulled Brad in and watched as the others moved down the hill. Chelsea, Cole, and Mendez were taking baggage from the civilians; Henry was hovering over the children, helping them along. Joey stood on a large rock with Joe-Mac, stoically keeping watch over the procession of people.

  “I think I might try to get home,” Brad said. “I’m not sure if this is the right place for me.”

  Turner let go and dug through his shirt pocket for a cigarette. “I don’t know, Thompson; this might be your home. I hear Bragg and Benning are a total loss.”

  Brad laughed and walked to a nearby tree to lean against it. “No, I mean my real home… Michigan. Cloud said there were still people up there; maybe my folks are still alive.”

  Turner lit the cigarette and watched the families move down the hill. “I heard what you said to Hassan… about a new start. You could do that here too. I see the way you look at that girl; maybe she’s the one for you.”

  “I don’t know,” Brad said.

  “Thompson, you can rest now, brother; it’s okay to stop,” Turner said. He took a long drag on the cigarette and walked away, leaving Brad alone.

  Brad heard the thumping of a helicopter. He paused and searched the sky, watching as the civilians on the trail did the same. The Black Hawk circled around then landed near the base of the lake. The helicopter’s engines shut down but the doors remained closed until the rotors stopped. Brad watched the doors open and Colonel Cloud step out. From somewhere near the cabins, a woman screamed and ran toward the helicopter, a young child chasing after her with Dan Cloud close behind them.

  Brad sat against the tree watching the reunion. He then saw Brooks and Sean step out of the helicopter. They were introduced to Cloud’s family and his father, Dan, before Cloud moved away, leaving Brooks and Sean sitting in the open door of the Blackhawk.

  Brad stood silently watching the unfamiliar sight of smiling and happy people. Maybe this was a safe place for all of them. Maybe it could be his fresh start. He moved away from the tree and walked to the lake while searching the faces. He saw her; she was smiling and walking back up the hill toward him. She stopped to wave. Brad waved back, but it wasn’t him she was looking at. Shane moved from the group, walking behind the others, holding Ella’s hand. Chelsea ran forward and lifted Ella in a tight hug then grabbed Shane, embracing them all as a group… like a family.

  “They deserve it,” Brad said to himself.

  Brad walked away, staying wide of the group and moving to the seated men at the helicopter. As he approached, Brooks tossed him a can of still cold beer.

  “So this is why you all didn’t leave to join the others?” Brad laughed.

  Brooks moved over to allow Brad to sit in the helicopter’s open door next to him. He handed Brad an already lit cigar. “Ericson gave us these as a going away gift.”

  Sean popped the top on a second beer, tossing an empty to the ground at his feet. “And I ain’t about to share them.”

  Brooks reached for a leather bag the size of an eyeglass case and removed a small white cylinder. He took the tube and pressed it against Brad’s thigh; a pop and hiss came from the tube.

  “Ow! What the hell was that?” Brad said, pulling away and wincing while reaching down to rub his thigh.

  Sean laughed. “Stop crying—it’s another gift from Ericson; the vaccine, one of the first batches.”

  “Well, hell, you should have given it to one of them,” Brad said, still rubbing his thigh.

  “Yeah, thought you might say that; that’s why you got the surprise pop.” Brooks chuckled, draining his can and digging into the cooler behind him for another beer.

  “So did they get him?” Brad asked. He opened his can and took a sip; he looked out at the lake, the water a deep blue.

  “The general’s gone. Ericson rounded up the survivors and moved everyone to Fort Sam Houston. They are starting a lab and plan to mass-produce the vaccine. If they can stop the spread, it won’t be long before they develop a plan to contain the infected,” Sean said.

  Brooks slapped Brad on the back. “And just like that, we are suddenly unemployed.”

  Brad sipped at the can of cold beer, savoring the taste while watching his people gather around the shore of the lake. “They’re going to be okay,” he said.

  “It’s going to get boring here when the beer runs out,” Sean said.

  Brad tipped back his head, draining the can before crushing it and letting it fall to the ground. “You know where we could find some more?”

  Coming Soon from

  W.J. Lundy

  FALL 2015

  Thank You for Reading

  If you have an opportunity Please leave a review on Amazon

  Lundy W. J. (2015-08-01).

  Whiskey Tango Foxtrot: Volume VI

  W. J. Lundy is a still serving Veteran of the U.S. Military with service in Afghanistan. He has over 14 years of combined service with the Army and Navy in Europe, the Balkans and Southwest Asia. Visit him on Facebook for more.

  OTHER WORKS BY WJ LUNDY

  SIXTH CYCLE

  Nuclear war has destroyed human civilization.

  Captain Jake Phillips wakes into a dangerous new world, where he finds the remaining fragments of the population living in a series of strongholds, connected across the country. Uneasy alliances have maintained their safety, but things are about to change. -- Discovery leads to danger. -- Skye Reed, a tracker from the Omega stronghold, uncovers a threat that could spell the end for their fragile society. With friends and enemies revealing truths about the past, she will need to decide who to trust. -- Sixth Cycle is a gritty post-apocalyptic story of survival and adventure.

  Darren Wearmouth ~ Carl Sinclair

  DEAD ISLAND: Operation Zulu

  Ten years after the world was nearly brought to its knees by a zombie Armageddon, there is a race for the antidote! On a remote Caribbean island, surrounded by a horde of hungry living dead, a team of American and Australian commandos must rescue the Antidotes' scientist. Filled with zombies, guns, Russian bad guys, shady government types, serial killers and elevator muzak. Dead Island is an action packed blood soaked horror adventure.

  Allen Gamboa

  INVASION OF THE DEAD SERIES

  This is the first book in a series of nine, about an ordinary bunch of friends, and their plight to survive an apocalypse in Australia. -- Deep beneath defense headquarters in the Australian Capital Territory, the last ranking Army chief and a brilliant scientist struggle with answers to the collapse of the world, and the aftermath of an unprecedented virus. Is it a natural mutation, or does the infection contain -- more sinister roots? -- One hundred and fifty miles away, five friends returning from a month-long camping trip slowly discover that death has swept through the country. What greets them in a gradual revelation is an enemy beyond compare. -- Armed with dwindling ammunition, the friends must overcome their disagreements, utilize their individual skills, and face unimaginable horrors as they battle to reach their hometown...

  Owen Ballie

  SPLINTER

  For close to a thousand years they waited, waited for the old knowledge to fade away into the mists of myth. They waited for a re-birth of the time of legend for the time when demons ruled and man was the fodder upon which they fed. They waited for the time when the old gods die and something new was anxious to take their place.
A young couple was all that stood between humanity and annihilation. Ill equipped and shocked by the horrors thrust upon them they would fight in the only way they knew how, tooth and nail. Would they be enough to prevent the creation of the feasting hordes? Were they alone able to stand against evil banished from hell? Would the horsemen ride when humanity failed? The earth would rue the day a splinter group set up shop in Cold Spring.

  H. J. Harry