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

by D. W. Ulsterman

  “Good – then get to it. I figure I’m dying…just a matter of how soon, right?”

  Dr. Miller nodded.

  “Yes, Mac, it’s not good. I ran the tests, looked over the imaging, re-ran the tests, and sent the results out to a retired oncologist in Fairbanks who confirmed what I thought. There’s no doubt.”

  Mac’s head tilted slightly to his right as his brow furrowed, deepening the lines on his forehead.

  “Oncologist? That would be…cancer?

  “Yes, Mac, cancer. It’s in your lungs. Both lungs. Spreading up the lining of your trachea.”

  “And we can’t get it out? Inoperable?”

  Again Dr. Miller nodded.

  “Inoperable. It’s spread too far. We can possibly slow its progress some. But even that…I don’t know. This isn’t my particular field of specialty.”

  Mac grew momentarily silent, his eyes glancing down at the floor. Dr. Miller sat silent as well, knowing Mac was digesting the death sentence he had just been given. Finally Mac raised his head.

  “How did it…don’t see cancer much these days. Not since the vaccine. Was it…was it the smoke? The bar?”

  Dr. Miller rose from his seat and walked toward Mac, shaking his head.

  “No, it wasn’t that. You’re right, Mac, cancer is a rare occurrence. Has been for some time now. But, it does still happen. Do you recall Reese’s story about his father, how he died from cancer? How the specialist called it a one-in-a-million form of the disease resistant to the vaccine?”

  “Yeah, Reese was suspicious of that. Thought that his dad was basically poisoned, injected or whatever.”

  The doctor again nodded to Mac.

  “That’s right. I had heard of such things, rumors of it, going back thirty years or so. That there was a government sponsored program for that type of thing – but I had never seen it confirmed. Never had a patient to confirm that such a program actually existed.”

  Another prolonged silence placed itself in the small examination room as Mac’s eyes again locked with Dr. Miller’s.

  “Until now.”

  Dr. Miller’s right hand place itself on Mac’s left shoulder and squeezed it softly, a look of powerless regret showing itself for the first time.

  “That’s right Mac – what is in your lungs right now. It was put there. That cancer is a manufactured product. I suspected it and the oncologist confirmed it. That’s no regular cancer. It’s something else. Raise your shirt up Mac and look just under your right arm pit.”

  Mac followed the doctor’s directions, looking down at what appeared to be a tiny red-tinted mole at the top of his rib cage. The same mole Dr. Miller had scraped some skin off of during the initial examination three days ago.

  “Yeah – that little thing? What about it?”

  “That was the entrance point. That was how the manufactured virus was introduced. Two years ago. That’s my guess – two years ago.”

  Confusion spread across Mac’s face.

  “Two years…what? How?”

  Dr. Miller left the question unanswered, knowing the realization would soon come to Mac, a realization that was uttered in a single word.

  “Hess.”

  August Hess had been the New United Nations Special Operations officer who had come to Dominatus with the intent of destroying both it and its inhabitants. He had failed, but it now appeared he had managed to leave a deadly and quite personal reminder of that conflict inside the body of Mackenzie Walker.

  The doctor folded his arms as he stood in front of Mac, his head shaking slowly from side to side.

  “When you two tangled that first day Officer Hess arrived at Dominatus. I’m certain that’s when it happened. Just a quick jab. You wouldn’t even have felt it during the confrontation. In and out and left unnoticed since then. The cancer was injected, took root in your lungs, and now…it’s killing you, Mac. It’s killing you and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Nothing anyone can do. Even if we had a full ration of the cancer vaccine, this form, this manufactured form, is resistant. It’s meant to be resistant. I’m so sorry, Mac.”

  Mac brushed Dr. Miller’s sympathy aside with a wave of his right hand.

  “Stop right there, Doc – none of that shit. Look, I’ve been living well past my expiration date for a long time now. A long-long time. And Hess, son-of-a-bitch has been dead and gone for two years now and here he is ringing me up all over again. Tenacious evil piece of shit that he was.”

  Mac looked down again for a brief moment and then chuckled.

  “Ok then, time is short and I’ve got things to do. We’re meeting up tonight about the trip east. Going to see that priest, see about the weapon they’ve been saying he’s got to bring down the New United Nations.”

  Dr. Miller’s eyes widened in alarm.

  “Oh, Mac – no. I don’t believe that is possible for you now. That kind of trip…in your condition? I’m sorry, Mac, but that is just not practical.”

  Mac hopped off the examination table and gave his friend a warm smile.

  “Well, Doc, it’s not your call now is it? Take off the doctor hat for a moment here, ok? I’m not dead yet. Won’t be tomorrow. We defended Dominatus. We took back Alaska. There are people in the Lower 48 willing to fight back against the globalists, right? And they’re looking for those of us who’ve done it already to help them out with that fight. I intend to do just that. Whatever time I got left, Doc, I’ll be doing it fighting. It’ll be kicking down the door of the New United Nations. That’s how I’m going out. I won’t be sitting around here waiting to die. You know me better than that.”

  The doctor shook his head again, putting both his hands on Mac’s shoulders.

  “Mac, your condition could worsen very quickly. I truly have no idea if it’s a matter of weeks or months…or what. I do know you won’t be getting better, and the stress of that kind of trip will likely exacerbate your condition considerably. Even if you were healthy – you’re a seventy five year old man. You can’t do this kind of thing anymore.”

  Mac’s hand shot up in front of Dr. Miller’s face, his pointing finger extended upward.

  “Watch me. I ain’t dyin’ just yet, Doc. And I’m taking this trip. I’m getting them to that priest. To that weapon. If it’s the last thing I ever do, well then let’s get to it. And as far as my condition, the damn cancer, you keep your mouth shut, Doc. Ok?”

  “I won’t say anything, Mac. I wouldn’t compromise doctor-patient privilege. But I have to say in the strongest terms, you are in no condition to make any kind of trip.”

  Mac’s features softened, knowing his friend was simply trying to protect him in the only way his own experiences as a physician would have him do.

  “You’ve been a good friend for a long time, Lester. I’ve had a hell of a good run. Better than I deserved. If I can get just one more mission in before it’s all done…I wouldn’t ask for more than that. And if I can do just a little more to give some hope of liberty and freedom to others, this old man will die happy. You take care of yourself, Doc.”

  Mac extended his hand toward Dr. Miller, who then received it into his own.

  “You too, Mac. You too. Thank you for everything you did for us all those years in Dominatus. You helped protect a lot of people for a long time. Right to the end. You’re an honorable man, Mac, and I’ve been blessed to know you.”

  Mac snorted at the doctor’s words.

  “Blessed? Shit, Doc, blessings got nothing to do with it. I’ve no use for God. Don’t believe in him.”

  Dr. Lester Miller lowered his head slightly as he looked at his friend, his voice whispering an affectionate response.

  “That’s ok, Mac – He believes in you.”

  II.

  The conference room inside what used to be the Bank of Juneau building housed a long table where former residents of Dominatus and current members of the Alaskan militia now sat. From Dominatus were Mac, Reese Neeson, Dublin Meyer, and Walter Tedlow, known more commonly as Bear.
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br />   Across the table from them sat forty-six year old Franklin Thomas, unofficial leader of the Alaskan Militia. He had helped organize the ten thousand who marched in defense of Dominatus two years ago. A former long haul truck driver who had in his 20’s served eight years in the United States Navy, Thomas now found himself speaking on behalf of the thousands who were now active members of the Alaskan Militia – a group whose example was now being followed by other freedom fighters across the former United States of America.

  To the left of Franklin Thomas was Sally Emerich, liaison to the recently elected mayor of Juneau who many were already pushing to be the next Alaskan governor. She was a tall, dark haired woman in her mid-30’s who, despite her relatively young age, appeared quite comfortable sitting among this rag-tag group of newly emerged revolutionaries.

  On the other side of Thomas sat Cooper Wyse, a man long called by those who knew him as simply Coop. A highly regarded horse trainer who the locals had for years affectionately called the “Irish Cowboy”, his family had come to Alaska from Ireland two generations ago. The fifty year old Cooper resided on a sprawling ranch some ten miles outside Juneau. True to the description of being a man of very few words, Coop sat motionless at the table, his eyes fixated downward at his folded and heavily calloused hands in front of him.

  Franklin Thomas was the first to initiate the conversation among the eclectic group gathered around the conference room table, stroking his salt and pepper beard as he gathered his thoughts in advance of his words.

  “So, you folks intend to make your way across Canada to meet up with this priest? Do I have that right?”

  Mac’s voice cut across the table in response.

  “That’s exactly right. If there’s a weapon there that can help bring down the New United Nations, and they need our help to get it to the Texas Resistance, then that’s what we’ll do – or die tryin’.”

  Sally Emerich cleared her throat.

  “You are aware that is a journey of well over a thousand miles, Mr. Walker? From Juneau to Churchill, Manitoba, that is quite a trip. And with all due respect, a man your age…”

  Sally’s statement trailed off, leaving Mac to stare back at her with cold indifference.

  “Actually, Ms. Emerich, it’s over two thousand miles give or take. As for my age, need I remind you it was me, along with some others, who helped free up this same city you are now helping to run with that newly elected boss of yours? So don’t you go worrying yourself over how old I am – thank you very much.”

  Sally couldn’t help but smile at the older man’s determination.

  “My apologies, Mr. Walker. I certainly didn’t mean to offend you. And I am also very aware and grateful for what you’ve done to help free Alaska from the New United Nations. It’s just that resources are rather limited, and the threat of a counter attack by N.U.N. forces remains a serious consideration that we have to prepare for. So, this trip of yours, we have to weigh potential benefit against known cost.”

  Reese Neeson leaned forward, his eyes glancing from Mac and then to Sally Emerich as he did so.

  “I don’t see a whole lot of cost involved with this Ms. Emerich. Just help us get across the border, some supplies, ammunition, and we’ll take it from there.”

  Sally Emerich gave another brief smile while shaking her head.

  “Actually it’s a lot more complicated than that, Mr. Neeson. You want ammunition, right? We need to keep as much of that here as possible. We don’t have an unlimited supply. Far from it. You want us to help you get into Canada. Now while Canada is something of a New United Nations free zone, each of the territories is a bit different from each other and there’s not nearly the compliance presence as we have had in the United States – the former United States, if we start sending people from here to there it could raise concerns in the Lower 48 and give them enough motivation to attempt an attack on us. An attack that we are simply unprepared for right now.”

  Reese quickly answered back.

  “That’s exactly the point, Ms. Emerich. We’re attempting to secure a weapon that will remove that fear and break apart the New United Nations. Return the United States to its own people just like we’ve done in Alaska. That reward far outweighs the risk, or the resources involved, don’t you think?”

  “I’m not here to prevent your mission, Mr. Neeson. I’m here to make certain it is a mission that offers justifiable risk in relation to justifiable resources.”

  Bear’s hand crashed down onto the table, causing everyone but Mac to jump backward in their seats.

  “Now what the hell does all that even mean? Justifiable this and justifiable that? Look lady, you can take all that kind of talk and shove it up your uptight ass. If we want to head out to Manitoba then that’s what we will do. You got no say in the matter. We didn’t fight for freedom up here just so some government bureaucrat can tell us how to use that freedom. That’s exactly the kind of thing I thought we were all fighting against!”

  Sally Emerich remained undeterred from voicing her concerns.

  “I assure you we are all on the same side here, Mr. Tedlow. That said, we each have a responsibility to everyone else. If we aren’t very careful in how we proceed, all of what you helped fight for could be lost, and lost rather quickly.”

  Mac hissed a brief response.

  “Lady – it looks like it’s been lost already.”

  Franklin Thomas attempted to intervene between the former residents of Dominatus and the representative from the newly reformed Juneau mayor’s office.

  “Uh…look, I’m all for helping locate a weapon that can defeat the globalists. Want to make that very clear here. I also, uh, understand what Ms. Emerich is trying to say. I’m not much of a politician. For some reason, people seem to think I’m somewhat of a better soldier. Hell, never thought of myself much of anything to tell you all the truth. I do have a question for you, Mac, on this. Now I have to think a guy like you, all your experience with this kind of stuff, that this whole thing could be some kind of trap. That has to have crossed your mind – right?”

  Sally Emerich nodded in agreement.

  “Exactly.”

  Mac gave a brief smile, before shrugging, coughing briefly as he did so.

  “Sure – maybe it’s a trap. Maybe not. We don’t know for sure until we get there. If it is a trap, then getting across the border won’t be a problem because that’s what the compliance officers or whoever will want, right? If it’s not a trap, then it sure as hell is worth the risk. Without question. So either way, I’m making the trip, and there’s not a damn thing any of you can do to change that fact. And I’m thinking my friends here are probably feeling the same way I am on that.”

  Dublin spoke up for the first time.

  “I’m with Mac on this. If there really is a weapon, we have to try and get it to the Texas Resistance. Reese has been in communication with them and I have no reason to believe they’re lying. We can’t just stay up here hoping they will leave us alone. We tried that already in Dominatus. Eventually the New United Nations will be back. The drones will be back. We have to keep fighting. We have to help out all of those people in the Lower 48 who are finally taking a stand. This is our time. It’s what my grandfather would have wanted. It’s what he said is happening – a second American Revolution.”

  Silence descended upon the conference room as both sides stared back at each other before Franklin Thomas attempted to restart the conversation.

  “I won’t do anything to try and stop any of you from taking on this mission. Do I think it’s a wise move? That’s another thing, but it’s your call. At least from where I’m sitting, you’re free to do what you want with this. I’ll supply you with some weapons and ammunition…some supplies. No men though. I can’t afford to do that. We are preparing our defenses and I can’t have people running off on every hair-brained plan that comes their way.”

  Sally Emerich again shook her head in protest.

  “No. Speaking on behalf of the mayo
r, this plan is unwise. It is a waste of resources. Resources we desperately need at this time. The risk of getting across the border, that alone makes this utterly foolish and potentially very dangerous. It would be an act of provocation. You mentioned the drones, Ms. Meyer, and you’re right to do so. By attempting to sneak across the border, that’s exactly what you could be bringing down on all of us here. Now if I had assurances you could cross the border without being seen, that would be different – but I don’t think you could make that assurance now could you? Not honestly anyways.”

  Mac’s voice rose in unmistakable anger, his eyes flashing his own approaching storm.

  “You know damn well the security on the border between here and the province is less than half what it used to be. The New United Nations has its hands full in the Lower 48. They don’t got time to be botherin’ with us right now. So your little suggestion there is total and complete bullshit from the get-go. That entire area of Canada is almost wide open. We just avoid the urban areas and we’ll be fine. And if we ain’t fine, then so be it. This is a war we got going on here right now, lady. You get that? A damn war! This ain’t no time to be politicking. This is a time for every one of us to fight and fight hard. That’s what we are doing with this trip. Is it crazy? Sure. Am I a tired old man who should know better? Hell, they’ve been telling me that for as long as you’ve been dressing yourself. We’re going across that border. We’re making this trip. Franklin just said he’s stepping back from it. He ain’t giving his blessing, but he ain’t going to try and stop us either. That leaves you, Ms. Emerich – you and your mayor’s office. You really think you can do anything about this one way or the other? C’mon now, young lady…you best get wise here real quick.”