by Dirk Patton
“Big door,” Igor said, stepping forward and pointing down the hall.
“What…” I started to ask, then the lightbulb flashed on. “Johnson. We cleared a room with a huge door set into the back wall. What’s on the other side?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. Show me and I’ll open it!”
“Let’s go!”
This time I took the lead, retracing our steps and ducking through the entrance into the cavernous room. Rushing to the far wall, I showed him the outline of what I was sure was a door. Nodding his head, he slung his rifle behind his back and grabbed several pieces of equipment out of his pack.
“Never came inside,” he said as he began working on an electronic lock. “Opened the outside door and saw the room was empty, then moved on.”
While he worked, I looked around. Igor and Gonzales had taken up station at the entrance, keeping watch on the corridor. Nicole had gone with the Master Chief, but Chelsea had stayed with Johnson, watching closely as he connected his gear to the lock’s circuit board. He peered at a small screen for a moment, then turned his head to look at me.
“OK, sir. I can open it. You sure you want me to do that? We’ve got no way of knowing what’s on the other side.”
“We’re several hundred feet below ground, Sergeant,” I said. “Whatever’s in there won’t be the militia. Open it.”
He nodded, then pressed a series of keys on the machine in his hand. For a moment, nothing happened. I was starting to think Johnson’s efforts weren’t going to pay off when a muted rumble I could feel in my feet started up. I’d expected the door to slide up or to the side, but instead it began descending into the floor.
As the opening in the wall grew, I marveled at the sheer size of the solid slab that was in motion. Easily a hundred feet wide by thirty tall. As the gap at the top widened, a wave of warm, humid air spilled into the room and washed over us. It carried the stench of decay and human waste with it. Uh Oh!
“Johnson, can you stop the door before it’s fully open?”
He pressed another key and the motion slowed for a couple of feet before coming to a complete stop.
“What’s wrong?” Chelsea asked.
“Smell that?” I pointed at the opening. “That’s infected.”
She and Johnson both looked up, fear on their faces.
“Then why no screams?”
I turned to see that Gonzales and Nicole had joined us. Igor was still maintaining watch at the entrance.
“Has to be males,” I said. “OK. Johnson, bring it on down, but stop it at twelve feet. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir,” he said.
The door began descending again.
“What are you thinking?” Gonzales asked.
Both of us had already stepped back and trained our rifles on the steadily widening gap. Just in case.
“We leave it up enough to keep any infected from flooding out, but just low enough to boost someone up for a look at what’s on the other side.”
“No disrespect, sir, but do we really have time to be fucking around with this?” He asked quietly.
“You got a better idea, I’m all ears, Master Chief.”
24
Newly promoted Chief Petty Officer Jessica Simmons smiled at the Marine who had just finished clearing her through the security checkpoint. With a spring in her step, she walked into a waiting elevator that would take her to the subterranean installation where she worked. A scan of her ID card activated the system, automatically selecting the appropriate level and closing the doors.
As the car descended, she smiled again. She felt wonderful. Not only had she redeemed herself with the Admiral, earning a big promotion, but she'd also gotten sleep. Wonderful, uninterrupted sleep. Having remained on duty for nearly seventy-two hours straight during the crisis with the Russian invasion fleet, she’d finally been able to go to her quarters and fall into bed.
She’d slept thirteen hours straight, waking long enough to pay a visit to the head and remove her uniform, then had gone directly back to her bunk for another ten hours. Now, freshly showered and wearing clean clothes, she felt better than she could remember feeling in some time.
The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival on her level. Her level! Not only had she redeemed herself, but she’d also been placed in charge of a very small group of elite people. The Admiral called the newly formed group a proper military name, Navy Task Force 157, but she just called it The Hive.
Lieutenant Hunt looked up from his desk as she exited the elevator, giving her a nod and a smile. While she was in charge of The Hive from a technical perspective, the Navy still wanted an officer to be in overall command. So, riding her coattails, her CO had followed her over from the cyber warfare (CW) group.
Pausing to survey the darkened room, she looked at each of the five men and women who were completely absorbed with whatever was on their computer screens. Two of them were in uniform, having come from CW with her, but three, two women and one man, were in street clothing. They were brilliant hackers/coders from the civilian world who lived in Hawaii and had been recruited to help Jessica operate and maintain the limited satellite communications, surveillance and weapons systems that were still available.
Putting her purse away, Jessica walked around the room, quietly greeting each person. At the end of her circuit was Lieutenant Hunt’s station and she stopped to speak with him.
“Did you get some rest, Chief?” He asked.
“Yes, sir, I did. Feel like a new woman! What’s been going on around here?”
“Unusually quiet,” Hunt said. “The Russians are keeping their heads down, for the moment at least. Most of them have returned home, but there’s still a large presence on the west coast of CONUS. We’ve got some intercepts and are seeing some activity that looks like they’re getting ready to start evacuating large chunks of their surviving population, but nothing definitive about a destination.”
“California?” Jessica asked, frowning.
“Maybe,” Hunt acknowledged. “NIS thinks that’s a good possibility and could explain why they haven’t withdrawn from US soil.”
“That’s what I was thinking. But why not Australia? They move to the west coast, they’ve got a lot of infected to deal with.”
“True, but they’ve also got empty cities to move into. There’s no place for them to go in Australia unless they displace the population. Besides, they’ve still got the satellite beacon to draw the infected away. Clear the area out before they move in, then their ground forces can mop up whatever’s left behind. Anyway, that’s just my theory.”
“What does the Admiral think?”
“You’re asking me, Chief? I’m just a lowly Lieutenant. You’re the woman that saved what’s left of America. Maybe you should ask him the next time you see him.”
Jessica grimaced, irritated at the grin on her CO’s face. He was right about her, but she didn’t want to be singled out and be special. She had just been doing her job.
“Sorry,” Hunt said, not appearing to be sorry in the least. “Couldn’t resist.”
She smiled, knowing he had only been teasing her a little bit. They’d worked together long enough to develop a strong degree of mutual respect.
“What about Major Chase?”
Hunt’s face betrayed his answer before he gave it.
“He’s in a bit of a bind. Again. Ran up against a local militia. Several hundred of them, in fact. They managed to breach the facility he’s in a little less than an hour ago. That’s as much as we know. We’ve got no comms with him, or any of his group, and no way to know what’s going on inside.”
“Why didn’t someone call me?” Jessica asked, trying to control her voice. “We can fix the comm channel!”
“It’s not that,” Hunt called, forestalling her dash to a console. “We’re green across the board. There’s just no one on that end answering our calls.”
“Is there help on the way?”
Hunt sho
ok his head.
“Our resources are too depleted. We don’t have the planes or firepower to fight our way through the Russians. The Admiral isn’t happy, but he’s not going to send men to die needlessly.”
Before Jessica could respond, the phone on Hunt’s desk rang. He held up a finger to stop her from speaking and lifted the handset. After a brief and cryptic conversation, he replaced it and looked up.
“Well, something must be in the works. That was Captain West. You’re wanted in the Admiral’s conference room.”
“When?” Jessica asked, surprised.
“Now. Better get going.”
“Yes, sir,” she said in a distracted voice.
Retracing her steps, Jessica passed through security and into fresh air. Striding purposefully, she headed for the building where Admiral Packard was waiting. Concern for Major Chase warred with curiosity over what the Admiral wanted. Hopefully, she was going to find out that he was ready to send some troops to rescue him and needed her assistance in dealing with the Russians.
Security was tight when she arrived at the rather unimposing structure that housed the Admiral and his staff. She was stopped and checked by two separate roving patrols of Marines as she approached, then three different checkpoints within the building itself.
Clearing the final hurdle, she was met by an imposing Marine Captain named Black. He personally wanded her with a portable metal detector before waving for her to raise her arms. Quickly and professionally, he ran his hands over her body, leaving no curve or crevice unchecked. Satisfied, he instructed her to remove the pins that held her long hair in place. When it tumbled across her shoulders, he thrust his fingers into it, ensuring nothing was concealed.
“My apologies, Chief,” he said when he was done. “There’s already been one attempt on the Admiral’s life. There’s not going to be another.”
Jessica stood there, blushing in embarrassment from having the Marine’s hands touch places on her body that are normally reserved for lovers. When she met his eyes, she could tell that he was as uncomfortable as she was, but had done what needed to be done.
“It’s OK, sir,” she said, trying to restore her normally immaculate hair.
“No, it’s not,” Captain Black said, looking away. “I’d normally have a female Marine here, but the Admiral gave me no warning to expect you.”
“Captain, I’ve already forgotten it,” Jessica said, struggling with her bobby pins.
Black nodded, then escorted her down a long hallway where he paused in front of a closed door. Knocking once, he opened it and stepped inside, motioning for her to follow.
“Chief Petty Officer, thank you for joining us,” Admiral Packard said when Jessica entered the conference room. “Please take a seat.”
She quickly chose a chair at the far end of the table, glancing around the room. All the Admiral’s top aides were in attendance, as well as several other senior officers she didn’t recognize. There was also a civilian woman seated to Packard’s left. To his right were two civilian men she didn’t know, one of them obviously of Native American heritage with a long, black ponytail.
Packard nodded at Captain Black who stepped smartly out of the room and closed the door behind him.
“Chief, what you’re about to hear has been classified as compartmented, top secret. It may not be discussed with anyone who is not present in this room. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir!” Jessica answered, a feeling of dread washing over her.
“Very well. Dr. Hironata, please update everyone.”
25
Dr. Hironata spoke for nearly fifteen minutes, detailing the background of her project and ultimately the findings she had already presented to the Admiral. There was stunned silence within the room when she delivered the news that the world was about to perish. The expressions on the faces of the senior officers ranged from incredulity to final resignation to a fate that had been written when the first bomb was detonated in New York. Packard gave them a few moments to absorb the information before speaking.
“We have reviewed Dr. Hironata’s data and confirmed what she is telling us. Survey teams are currently spreading out within the Hawaiian Islands to validate the findings, but we have already seen a steep decline in the catch from the commercial fishing fleets, which supports the conclusion. Additionally, I’ll offer my own anecdotal piece of information. When is the last time any of you heard a bird singing as you were walking across the base?”
Silence greeted him, several of the men glancing at each other and nodding. The Admiral slowly looked around the room before continuing.
“As bleak as the future looks, there may be a way to survive. Doctor, please elaborate.”
“Gentlemen, and lady,” she began, acknowledging Jessica’s presence. “Since bringing my findings to Admiral Packard’s attention, I have consulted with the virologists who have been studying the virus and working to develop a viable cure.”
She nodded across the table at Dr. Kanger and Joe Revard.
“They have confirmed my suspicion that the virus can only survive in a temperate climate if it is not inside a host organism. This is validated by the complete absence of infection in the group of Canadians who were above the arctic circle. That is, until they were exposed within the continental US. Conversely, they have also documented that the virus cannot survive in hot, arid environments.”
“Excuse me,” a Marine General whom Jessica didn’t recognize spoke up. “If what you’re saying is correct, how do you account for the infection having destroyed the population in the Middle East? That’s about as hot and arid as it gets on Earth.”
“General,” Dr. Kanger spoke up. “Dr. Hironata stated that the virus cannot survive outside of a host organism in those environments. Once it achieves infection in a living creature, it is in large part protected by the very biological system it is attacking. But, in extreme cold, or heat, if the host dies, the virus dies with it.”
The General shook his head.
“That may be, but what good does that do us?”
Kanger and Hironata exchanged looks before she tilted her head for him to continue.
“If the virus cannot survive in the environment, and there are no infected hosts, in essence, you have a clean area. A safe zone, if you will. Lacking the ability to remain dormant while waiting for an organism to invade, it dies very quickly.”
“What are you saying?” An Admiral asked. “All we need to do is freeze it or cook it?”
“That’s not practical,” Dr. Hironata replied. “Especially when Mother Nature takes care of that for us. All we need to do is be where the virus can’t live outside of a host.”
There were confused expressions around the table, and Admiral Packard decided it was time to interject.
“Bottom line is, we have less than eighteen months before we’re dead. Less than twelve before we begin seeing large portions of the population start dying off. Hawaii is a very temperate climate, especially as far as the virus is concerned. All animal and plant life will succumb until the islands are barren rock. We have no choice other than to leave. A complete exodus before it’s too late.”
A buzz of voices traveled around the room. The Admiral let it go on for a few seconds before raising his hand to silence the shocked officers.
“Doctor,” he said to Hironata. “Please continue.”
“Thank you, Admiral,” she said, nodding. “Gentlemen, we have two options available to us. Both require the relocation of the entire population of the Hawaiian Islands.”
“That’s nearly a million people!”
Several voices blurted at the same time. Packard glared at the men who’d interrupted, and they immediately fell silent.
“I’m very well aware,” Dr. Hironata said. “However, if we do not have an exodus, as the Admiral put it, they will die. We must choose between an arid desert or the frozen arctic. That is all that can provide us with a safe zone.”
“Do you have a recommendation?” Captain We
st asked, facilitating the conversation.
“I do. The arctic is not a viable scenario. Food cannot be grown, and there are few, if any, natural resources available. That leaves the desert.”
“The Middle East?” The Marine General asked.
“No,” Packard interjected. “Logistically, this is going to be a nightmare. To relocate a million civilians to the far side of the planet would create an insurmountable task within the timeframe we have. Dr. Kanger has some suggestions.”
Kanger cleared his throat and leaned forward.
“Admiral Packard asked Dr. Hironata and my team to evaluate possible locations for our exodus. We also worked with Captain West who provided input on logistical issues. In other words, the exponential impact on how quickly we can complete the effort based on the distance we must travel to reach our new home.
“The Middle East has been ruled out. It’s too far away, there are numerous radioactive hot zones from the Arab/Israeli nuclear bombs, and a rough computer model that accounts for the availability of ships and aircraft indicates that nearly a third of our population would perish here in Hawaii before we could move them. Australia is better, closer and fallout free, and the western portion of the continent provides ideal environmental conditions, but there is no infrastructure. What do we do? Drop a million people into the desert? Give them nothing more than a tent and a shovel? We’d lose thousands in the first couple of weeks alone. Maybe tens of thousands.
“The only viable solution that the team has come up with is the desert in the American southwest. The climate is favorable for our needs, and existing infrastructure appears to be mostly intact. Supplies and materials are already in place. This negates the need to utilize valuable cargo space for basic necessities such as food, water, medical supplies, etc. The distance is manageable, and modeling indicates we have a narrow window for success. If we begin moving people within the next month.”
“Do you mean California?” An Air Force Captain asked.
“No. The coast of California is too temperate for our needs. The inland deserts would be good, but there are no cities large enough to take all our people. We looked farther east and considered southern Nevada and central Arizona. With the collapse of Hoover Dam, water would be a very real concern in Las Vegas, so we selected Phoenix, Arizona. It is the hottest and driest major city in North America. The climate is ideal, and there is more than enough existing infrastructure to comfortably support the entire population. Water is plentiful in the form of a chain of reservoirs to the northeast of the city that are replenished annually by snowfall in the northern mountains.”