Military Fiction: THE MAC WALKER COLLECTION: A special ops military fiction collection...

by D. W. Ulsterman

  “Then Dr. Miller, we fight. To our last…to our last breath…our last bullet…we fight.”

  Mac looked back at Dr. Miller while pointing to the Old Man.

  “What he said.”

  XX.

  Mac’s prediction of more drone bombings in an hour or two proved accurate. Nearly ninety minutes later the M2 was both heard and felt inside the cave firing off a series of rounds into the night sky. Moments later, the first of several bombs were dropped atop the hill inside which the remaining residents of Dominatus found themselves hiding out from the New United Nations authorities.

  Mac had conducted a count of the total number inside the cave. There were seventy-four of us. As the bombs hit, I sat with Mac and about twenty others in the cave’s main room. The rest had gone to the personal rooms to sleep…or pray.

  As each bomb hit the lights inside the cave would momentarily dim, then return to full power. The floor below us groaned its disapproval, and a light dusting of material from the ceiling fell onto our heads.

  Mac let out a long, low whistle.

  “Those are some two thousand pounders they’re dropping on us. Rare for a drone to be carrying that heavy of weaponry, but it looks like they ain’t messing around.”

  Another bomb rumbled through the cave’s interior as several eyes looked up at the ceiling with increasing worry.

  “Folks, every bit of this place is concrete and steel reinforced – from the walls to the ceilings to the floors. They could bring the whole hill down on top of us and we’d still be sitting in here warm and well. I checked out the design myself. It’s based on the government facility out in Cheyenne – the military bunker inside that huge mountain. We don’t have quite that much material between us and them as Cheyenne, but we’re doing ok. Doing fine.”

  Mac’s attempts to reassure everyone fell short as yet another bomb temporarily dimmed the lights as the big M2 gun continued to fire at the drones. Mac rose from his bench as others from their rooms in the hallway returned to join the larger group in the main room.

  “Gonna go check on Keith again. He’s been pulling an all-nighter in the defense room. I would suggest everyone try and rest up as much as you can, though I understand with all the noise that’s easier said than done.”

  I followed Mac out into the hall.

  “Do you really believe this place can hold up against those kinds of bombs Mac?”

  Mac gave his now predictable shrug.

  “We’ll be fine for a while. I can’t see them keeping this up for the long haul, especially if we keep shooting down those drones. Those things aren’t cheap.”

  “But what if they do keep it up? How long are we good inside here?”

  “Hell, I can’t bother with things that I don’t control. I figure we’re good for a few days of this easy. After that, I can figure something else out.”

  There was another question I had wanted to ask, and decided then to do so.

  “Your count came up with seventy four people inside the cave Mac. What happened to the other thirty or so who were living in Dominatus?”

  “They either left out on their own, or stayed inside their cabins. The ones who left might have a chance. The ones who wouldn’t leave their cabins are likely dead. The drones got to most the cabins by now I’m sure. And there’s probably a few special operations officers down their as well, and I don’t think they’re here to arrest anyone.”

  We came to the defense room’s door and Mac input the code to gain entrance. Inside sat Keith as I had seen him hours before, his eyes following the drone signatures on the monitor. Keith was smiling.

  “Shot another two of the bastards down. The anti-drone system is working perfectly.”

  Mac walked over to the right side of the panel and looked down, his eyes narrowing as he focused on a smaller readout.

  “We’ve used up about sixty rounds of the M2’s total ammo. At this pace…we can hold out like this for a few days more before we are looking at running out. Let’s hope the bastards give us a breather.”

  As if to suggest he didn’t know what he was talking about, the M2 began firing another series of rounds at several drones that were again approaching the outside entrance area of the cave.

  Mac closely watched the drone’s approach and the M2 rounds as they fired off in their direction, leaving a distinct red tracer line on the monitor. One of the drones dropped from the screen while three more continued their approach. No more than a few seconds later and the cave was again rocked by several bombs exploding outside the first blast door.

  Keith’s brow furrowed and I noted his hands tightly gripping the corners of the panel.

  “Jesus those things are accurate. At least two direct hits on the blast door Mac.”

  Mac altered the camera view to the entrance area of the cave, showing the first blast door remained intact.

  “No - the door’s angle is protecting it. The hillside is still taking the brunt of those bombs. A few more of those though…”

  The M2 again fired several more rounds and another drone disappeared from the screen. Now it was Mac’s turn to smile.

  “The program is learning the drone’s flight patterns. It’s incorporating the updated data into its system and calibrating its sight system to compensate.”

  I looked over at Mac.

  “What does that mean?”

  Mac was still smiling as the M2 shot another drone from the sky.

  “It means our gun is learning how to track and shoot down those drones before they reach us. That last one…that was almost 1500 yards from the entrance and it took it easy. Gotta be driving Hess and those New United Nations assholes crazy about now.”

  The last remaining drone then disappeared from the screen.

  Keith clapped his hands together.

  “Looks like that one is leaving with its tail between its legs. We win this round assholes!”

  Silence had once again descended on what was left of Dominatus.

  Mac slapped Keith on the back and told him to take a break. He then offered me the same advice.

  “Get some rest while you can – they’ll be back again. Probably sooner than we’d like. Go work on that speech of yours…the program. You still planning on doing it tomorrow afternoon?”

  I nodded my head, suddenly feeling the fatigue of the long day coming over me.

  “Yeah…tomorrow. I’m gonna take you up on that rest. What room?”

  “Take my room, 20B, just outside the hallway door past the medical room. I’ll be here for a while, so make yourself comfortable and try to sleep.”

  Mac’s room was like the others I had seen, small but well furnished. I took out my note pad and began outlining the beginnings of my next program, attempting to pull from the experience of being in Dominatus the past several days. My interviews with Mac, the Old Man, Bear, Dublin, and the others – and now the direct attacks on all of these people by the New United Nations. The words came to me quickly…though so too did sleep…

  XXI.

  I was awakened several hours later by activity outside the door to Mac’s room. The sound was coming from the medical room. Putting my notes on a side table, I opened the door to see Mac walking down the hall toward me. He paused in front of the door.

  “The Old Man, he’s not getting better. Doc is attempting to drain fluid from his lungs. You probably just heard Dublin run past here. She’s…she’s upset. We all are, but it’s hitting her real hard.”

  I followed Mac into the hallway and stood with him just outside the medical room door which Mac lightly knocked upon. The voice of Dr. Miller was heard telling us to come in.

  Alexander Meyer had been placed on his right side in the room’s hospital bed, and Dublin was gently massaging his upper back as the doctor was asking the Old Man to cough.

  “Was just checking in Doc…I can leave though if you want. If Mr. Meyer wants some privacy…”

  Dublin motioned for both Mac and me to come into the room.

  “It�
��s ok Mac…both of you…come in.”

  The Old Man attempted to cough again, though the sound was hardly more than a low, wheezing whisper of compressed air. He moved to lie back down on his back and Dublin gently helped him to do so. I was shocked to see how white his face was…and how much more sunken his eyes had become. Despite his clearly precarious health, the Old Man managed a slight smile.

  “All these years, all this life I have lived, and…I can’t seem to handle getting over this damn…cold.”

  Dr. Miller placed the oxygen mask back onto Alexander Meyer’s face and then addressed Dublin.

  “Dublin, there’s more fluid accumulating in your grandfather’s lungs – at this point it’s primarily his left lung and he’s unable to clear that fluid himself, so I am going to have to drain it for him. I can do that, and it should give him some relief, make it much easier for him to breathe - at least temporarily. His fever has crept up to 102 though, and his heart is struggling more and more. So, it’s more a matter of making him comfortable than…than reversing his condition.”

  I watched as Dublin processed what Dr. Miller was telling her – that her grandfather was most likely dying. She quickly wiped away a tear from the corner of her left eye and then took her grandfather’s right hand into her own.

  “Let’s get that fluid out of his lungs, doctor.”

  Mac motioned for me we were to leave the room to let the doctor and Dublin perform the procedure in private. After closing the door behind him he paused in the hallway, his eyes closing.

  “I’ve been working alongside that man for twenty years. He was as much a father to me as my own. It’s just that I am having a real hard time imagining a world without him in it. But…seems like that’s where it’s heading now, real fast.”

  Unlike Dublin, Mac didn’t wipe away the tears from his eyes as they rolled down his cheeks.

  “God, man, I don’t know if I can keep all these people safe. Never had to do all that on my own…always had the Old Man to help me out with that. And hell, Reese, look at me! I’m seventy three years old! I’m as much an old man as he is! I can’t…what the hell are we doing in this place? What if…what if all these people…what if we don’t make it out of here?”

  It was the most uncertain and fearful moment I had seen from Mac since my arrival at Dominatus, and I was surprised in the strength of my own reply to him.

  “Mac, you’re about the toughest human being I’ve ever met. Period. I don’t care how old you are, that never leaves you. You helped to give all these people a chance to live in freedom, and that chance isn’t up yet. If we have to fight, I know you’re going to be the right man to lead that charge. And there’s not a one of us here who doesn’t think that.”

  Mac shook his head and grinned, finally wiping the already drying tears from his face.

  “Nice try at a pep talk, coach. We’ll see…we’ll see. So you got your thing ready? The program?”

  “No, not yet. It’s coming along though. I’ll be ready. Few more hours.”

  “Well, we’re all real curious what you got to say. And I’m sure those New United Nations boys will be listening in on it too.”

  Mac made his way back down the hallway toward the main room while I returned to Mac’s private quarters to continue working on my outline for the program. After just ten minutes of writing, there was a knock at the door. It was Dublin.

  “Reese, is it ok if I come in?”

  “Sure, Dublin.”

  Dublin closed the door behind her and then sat down on the bed across from mine.

  “Is the draining procedure done already?”

  Dublin nodded, then smiled.

  “Yes, it went really fast. Doc was so good. Grandfather flinched some when the line went in. There was quite a bit of fluid, but it’s out now and he’s breathing much easier. He’s sleeping. He seems so tired all the time now.”

  “Glad to hear he’s feeling more comfortable, Dublin. I know everyone is worried about him. Everyone here loves your grandfather a great deal.”

  “I know that Reese, and he does too. That’s not why I’m here though.”

  I put my notepad down and leaned forward.

  “What are you here for, Dublin?”

  “Your program today…you are going to use a lot of what you learned from us, right? All the interviews, the things I showed you…what others showed you.”

  I nodded.

  “Yeah…that’s how it will work. Why?”

  “Grandfather thought…he told this to me last night. That it might be a good idea of you talked about yourself a little more. To me. That doing so might…might remind you of your own place in all of this and how upside down the world has become for all of us.”

  A moment of silence hung between Dublin and I as I contemplated what she said.

  “Is that it, Dublin? He just wanted to make sure I was fully prepared for the program?”

  Now it was Dublin’s turn to pause.

  “Not…not entirely. There was something else. I’ve let him know that…that I care for you. That I’m interested in you.”

  “And what did he say about that?”

  “He said that I shouldn’t base my feelings on just the time you’ve been up here, or your programs that I’ve listened to over the years. He said I should make sure I know you better, that we should both do that. So…I guess the interview would be a part of that process of me getting to know you. You’ve interviewed me…so maybe…maybe I should do the same to you.”

  “So you want to interview me now?”

  Dublin nodded, that smile of hers once again breaking down my already feeble defenses.

  “Yes, Reese, if that’s ok.”

  I placed my recording device on the small table beside me.

  “Ok Dublin…we’re recording. You’re in charge, and something tells me you like being in charge.”

  The smile flashed again.

  “Oh…sometimes. Definitely. So you ready?”

  “I am at your disposal, Dublin…ask your questions.”

  “How old are you, Reese?”

  “I’m thirty nine…almost thirty nine years old. Just a few years older than you. You asked me that before.”

  “And how long have you been transmitting your programs?”

  “Started those…six…seven years ago.”

  “But why, Reese? Why did you start doing the programs?”

  I was about to answer and then stopped. The question required that I revisit the actual reasons for my doing so.

  “It was my dad’s idea. He said I had a knack for the written word, and a good voice for radio. He knew I wanted to be more involved in…in his work. In helping out people who were suffering under this government. And he had contacts that could get the equipment…already had a network of underground listeners in place, so it was easy to start and then it just kind of took off from there.”

  “How many listeners do you have?”

  I shrugged.

  “Honestly, I don’t really know. My dad said I was being heard…but never indicated by how many.”

  “Grandfather says it’s at least three million people. Probably more. He did some work on that…finding out. About a year ago.”

  My eyebrows rose as I contemplated the possibility of reaching three million listeners.

  “That seems like an awful high number…”

  “I assure you, if grandfather says that was the number, chances are, that was the number. That’s for each broadcast, which if I understand how you do it, you send it out and it’s picked up by a handful of trusted listeners. For security purposes only a few people know the…what do you call it? The frequency of any particular broadcast, and those people then replay the broadcast to others in their groups and that process is repeated multiple times until finally it reaches a much larger audience. Isn’t that correct?”

  I could feel my mouth dropping open. For years I had thought I was being so careful in keeping my method of transmission hidden from authorities, and this
woman now sitting across from me explained exactly how I went about doing so.

  “That’s…that’s about it – yeah. How did you figure that out?”

  Dublin gave her own version of Mac’s shrug.

  “Like I said, grandfather looked into it and when he looks into something, he’s always very thorough. Do you have any idea how long that process of rebroadcasting takes before your message reaches its largest audience?”