Drone Wars 1: The Beginning

by Mike Whitworth

  "Uh oh, there is another one," Lorne said.

  I looked where Lorne pointed and saw another drone, and then another. "I think the jig is up. Doc, get us out of here," I shouted.

  Doc thrust the throttle levers forward on the boat, and we took off at maximum speed toward the rainstorm. The twin engines were screaming. I could see lightning flashing in the cloud. We were only a couple of hundred yards away from the rain front when the closest drone fired a missile. "Everybody get your gear and get overboard, now!” I shouted. I handed Toni her flippers, and she quickly went over the side. Doc and Lorne followed quickly. Peggy was still fumbling with her mask so I picked up her flippers in my left hand and, with my right arm around her, forced us both overboard.

  The boat continued at top speed toward the storm without us. When the missile struck it was over 100 yards away. The concussion hit me in the face like a board. Toni had her gear on, as did Lorne and Doc. Doc was helping Peggy with her flippers, so I helped her get her mask and snorkel in place. The rain was moving toward us. Soon, I heard the patter of raindrops on the water. The patter soon turned to a roar. We all held hands and swam in a straight line into the storm.

  Three times we felt the concussion as drones released missiles blindly onto the storm. The last one was so close that the blast wave threw us almost fifty feet. We were separated. I felt blindly around and touched a hand. It was Peggy's. She grabbed my hand and held on tightly. I could tell she was very afraid. So was I, for that matter. I just didn't have time to think about it. We looked for thirty minutes, but the others were not to be found. Once I thought I heard a boat, but I wasn't sure.

  As best I could tell, we were about four miles from the beach. I just didn't know where the beach was. It was almost dark, and the rain seemed to be subsiding. All we could do was tread water and hope we found the others, or they found us.

  While we waited, I made sure that Peggy had her flippers on tightly and her mask adjusted properly. I hadn't done any snorkeling since I was a kid, but I still remembered how. We held hands and tread water until dark. I was hoping the others would show up. They didn't. I begin to suspect the worst.

  When dark came, I studied the horizon. To my left I could see the glow in the sky above Gulfport. Farther off ahead of me I could see another glow. I thought that was Biloxi. We turned in the water to face the glow that I thought was Gulfport. I reasoned that trying to swim back to Gulfport would be a mistake because they might have people watching for anyone like us. To the left of the Gulfport glow was a smaller glow that was probably Long Beach. I figured we would head for Long Beach.

  We begin swimming slowly toward the glow that I thought was Long Beach. For the first time in my life, I was happy for the habit I'd developed of studying the maps of anywhere I visited. As we swam, I showed Peggy how to hold on to my shoulder with one hand and rest her legs. I also showed her how to rest by turning over on her back and floating.

  Six hours later we heard the waves breaking on the beach. Fortunately for us the waves were very small. That made reaching the beach much easier. I was surprised when Peggy managed to get to her feet on the beach. I tried but couldn't. The best I could do was crawl.

  I wasn't sure of the time, but I estimated it to be about two in the morning. The traffic along the beach highway was sparse. It was a Friday night. Any other weeknight, the traffic would have been sparser still. I managed to sit up and face the water. We had ditched our fins, masks, and snorkels a hundred feet from the beach.

  We were sitting on the sand in soaking wet street clothes and bare feet. Peggy was sitting so she could see the highway behind us. From the road, it would look like two people sitting on the beach having a conversation.

  "Thank you," Peggy said. "That is the second time you have saved my life. I would never have been able to make that swim without your help."

  My legs were starting to ache, and my arms felt as if they were ready to fall off. "We aren't out of here yet," I said.

  "What happened to your wife?” Peggy asked. Her question caught me totally by surprise. For a minute, I couldn't speak. After all, it had been less than two weeks since Susan was murdered, although it felt like a lifetime in some ways. The last two weeks had been, by far, the most eventful, and stressful of my entire life.

  It took me a while to tell her the story. She had to keep asking questions to keep me going. It was not easy to go over that day again in my mind. Peggy was horrified at what I told her. I could see that in her face.

  I was sure Peggy wasn't really interested in the parts that I felt I had to tell about how Susan and I had met, and how happy our lives were together, but I couldn't tell that from her face. I figured turnabout was fair play so I asked her about what happened before we took her from the mountain only three days ago.

  She told me about it, and about managing to kill the first ground hound. When she told me about how she did that, my estimation of her, and her abilities, went up a hundred-fold. I could tell she was smart that first time I met her, but only now was I realizing just how smart and how tough this lady was.

  "Pretty good for a computer programmer," I smiled.

  "Not too bad for a retired professor either," she smiled back at me. We had been sitting on the beach now for over forty minutes. My back, legs and arms were starting to stiffen up and I knew that it was time to get moving. I was just starting to get up when Peggy leaned over and put her arms around my neck. She said, "A police car just stopped. I think the cop is checking us out.” Then, she kissed me. It felt like the first time I kissed Susan, and yet it didn't. There was urgency in her lips that demanded a response, yet gentleness at the same time. That struck me as odd. She was a tough and smart woman who had managed to kill a trained and armed government agent with just a rock. I found myself kissing her back without even intending to.

  "Hey, you two," the cop hollered from the side of the highway. "Get off the beach. Go home."

  Peggy stopped kissing me and turned to face the cop. "He just asked me to marry him," she said.

  "That's fine," the cop said. "But go home now."

  "Peggy said, "Yes Officer. I can't wait to tell my mother. We are going.” The cop seemed satisfied and, shaking his head, turned to go back to his squad car. Peggy and I slowly stood and, as soon as the cop car had pulled back out on the highway, we limped across the beach holding hands.

  "That was pretty fast thinking," I said.

  "Not really," she said glancing up at me. "That gambit is used in almost every movie and TV show I watch. I am surprised it even worked."

  "I think you must be a pretty good actor," I said.

  After that neither of us said much. It was as if we were both suddenly shy. I thought that she must be mad at me for kissing her back, just as I was mad at myself for kissing her back. I couldn't believe I had done that, especially so soon after Susan's death. The cop had been far enough away, and the beach was dark enough that he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.

  I found myself looking at Peggy and wondering more about her. She was not classically beautiful. Cute would be more like it, although some folks would just call her plain. For the first time, I found myself wondering if she had a boyfriend or even a husband waiting for her somewhere. I realized that I had never noticed if she wore a wedding ring or not. When she told me her story, she had not mentioned a boyfriend or a husband. I did know she had a cat.

  I forced myself to think only about how we could reach safety. The closest safe place that I knew was Lorne's home and that was a hundred miles or so from where we stood. We had no identification, no cell phones, and only about a hundred dollars in soggy cash between us. We had talked about that during the long swim, or the ‘Big Splash’, as Peggy called it.

  Furthermore, there were surveillance cameras and federal police that we needed to dodge. With no shoes, we couldn't even walk very far. It was a dilemma.

  We crossed the highway and walked down a side street into a residential neighborhood. Subdivisions like
this one usually had fewer surveillance cameras than business districts, which was why I chose to go there.

  "Do you know how to hot-wire a car?” I asked.

  "No," Peggy said, "do you?"

  "No," I replied. "I wish I did right now though."

  "Do you think the others made it?” She asked.

  "I hope so, but I am not sure. I don't think we can count on them for help right now though. I think we have to figure a way out of this by ourselves."

  Washington, D.C.

  "Four hellfire missiles and more than eight million dollars, and you are telling me that you didn't even find any bodies."

  "Mr. President," the DIS secretary said, "we didn't even find any body parts. However, it is possible that we got them all with a direct hit.” The secretary was relieved that the president had not mentioned killing him again, although he was stealthily making plans to resign very soon and disappear.

  The president turned his handsome face on the secretary. "Let me tell you a story, Sid. When I was 12 years old, we vacationed in Florida, in a little town east of Panama City called Mexico Beach. My father rented a small cottage right on the beach."

  "That must have been nice, Mr. President."

  "Not really," the president said. "My mother called the place a dump, and said it was beneath us. My father, the senator, said it was necessary to keep us close to the people."

  "But wasn't he a senator from Connecticut, Sir?"

  "No, he was a senator from Illinois. He believed that it was important to be close to regular people no matter where we were. My mother always hated that. But that is not the story. Here is what happened. One day that summer a USAF fighter jet crashed in the Gulf, quite a ways offshore. For a week after that there were USAF patrols scouring the beaches for remains of the pilot. What they found were mostly skin fragments. I found some myself. I saved them for years in a jar of alcohol as a reminder of that explosion," the president smiled.

  The secretary thought that must have been a good summer for the president. He had no idea that the president's fondest memories from that summer were of finding the pilot's skin fragments floating in the water like soaked pieces of parchment, and imagining the suffering that the pilot must have gone through in the moments before and during the crash.

  "Mr. President, what has that..."

  The president interrupted, "Now listen to me, you stupid fuck. Either you find the body parts and have them DNA matched to our targets, or they are still alive. There are no two ways about it."

  "Yes, Mr. President. I will get our people right on it.” The secretary left the room as quickly as he could.

  Long Beach, Mississippi

  We had been walking in the neighborhood for fifteen minutes, making very slow progress because of our bare feet. I looked back down the street and saw the lights from a federal police car moving slowly on the beach near the water. They were either on to us, or they were looking for some sign of survivors. In any event, Peggy and I needed to get as far away from there as fast as we could, and, if possible, leave no trace behind us. That was a tall order, but the alternative was, at best, unpleasant.

  "Do you have any ideas?” Peggy asked.

  "Not really," I said. "Let's just keep moving for now.” I led her onto a side street so we would not be visible from the beach. The neighborhood was showing a bit of wear under the street lights, but it was a good, middle-class neighborhood, or at least had been before the economic woes started under the current administration. After about five blocks, I saw a light on in the kitchen of one of the houses. The yard was meticulously neat, and I could see a fair-sized garden as well as a shop and a smaller tool shed behind the house. I looked closer and saw what appeared to be fruit trees scattered around the yard. The car in the driveway was about 20 years old and in excellent condition for its age. The windows on the house were barred. They were the only barred windows I had seen in the neighborhood so far.

  I took Peggy's hand and led her to the door. I noticed her surprise as I reached out and pushed the doorbell.

  Chapter 13: THE RESCUE

  "Heroism is caring personified.” John Debrouillard

  Gulf of Mexico

  Lorne was as surprised as the others when the blast wave threw them backwards. He quickly looked around and saw that Doc and Toni were still close to him. Doc was swimming, but Toni was floating face down, unmoving. Lorne swam to her, and raised her head out of the water. Her mask and snorkel were missing, torn loose by the wave.

  "Doc. Come here. Quickly!" he shouted.

  Doc was still a bit groggy, but got there as fast as he could. He held his head against Toni's chest while Lorne supported her in the water. As indefatigable as ever, Lorne's feet moved rapidly back and forth generating enough lift with his fins to support both he and Toni. Doc raised his head and said, "She's not breathing. Her heart has stopped. We have to perform CPR."

  "In the water?” Lorne asked in a tone of voice that showed Doc that Lorne was shaken. "How do we do that?"

  "You hold her head above water, pinch her nose closed, and breathe into her mouth every time I say 'breathe', while I do chest compressions.” Once they were both in position, Doc said, "Breathe.” And using his doubled fists began the chest compressions to keep Toni's heart pumping. With each push they almost went under the water, but Lorne always managed to keep Toni's head above water, even when his own went under. Doc's legs were already sore, but, in spite of that, he managed to work them back and forth quickly, and stay high enough out of the water to do the chest compressions.

  They continued CPR for four minutes with no response. In medical school Doc was taught that the cutoff in wilderness situations was 30 minutes of CPR, if no signs of life were observed. He didn't know how they could go on for another 26 minutes, let alone still be able to swim to shore. However, he would rather die than lose Toni. She had been the mom he had never had ever since he had met her a year ago. Doc grew up as an only child raised by his father, a medical doctor. His mom died in childbirth, and his father had never remarried.

  Periodically during his childhood, Doc asked his father why he never remarried. He thought it would be very nice to have a mom. His father always said exactly the same thing. "Son, some things and some people are simply irreplaceable."

  At twenty minutes, Lorne was still going strong, although Doc was sure, despite the Gulf water on Lorne's face, that he could see tears in Lorne's eyes.

  It was becoming all Doc could do just to keep his head above water, but somehow he managed to continue the chest compressions, even when his head periodically sank below the water. Lorne had the rhythm, and now Doc no longer had to give the command for Lorne to breathe into Toni's mouth.

  Lorne knew, if he abandoned both Toni and Doc, he could make it to shore by himself. He had once trained to swim in the Olympics, but just barely missed the chance to compete. He also knew that he couldn't leave Doc or Toni behind to die. He could never live with himself if he did. For the first time in his life, he thought he might actually die. Surprisingly, he was fine with that.

  Lorne laughed when he thought about the lessons his father had tried to teach him. "Boy, in this world, it is every man for himself. Do whatever it takes to succeed.” Until he was sixteen, Lorne had always looked up to his father. At six-feet five, his father was easy to look up to. Most people seemed to admire him.

  When Lorne was sixteen, his Mom was dying of cancer. His father went off in search of another business deal, while she was on her deathbed. Her last words to Lorne were, "Son, doing what is right is the only real strength in this world. Sometimes you have to fight for what is right, and sometimes you have to sacrifice for what is right. Son, always do what is right, and you will have no regrets.” Lorne thought his mother had been far wiser than his father ever knew. Ever since that day, he had followed her advice, and he had no regrets.

  Five minutes later, Lorne thought he heard a noise over the roar of raindrops falling on the water. It was a boat; a boat motor. He didn
't see how the feds could have a boat looking for them so quickly, so he opened his mouth, and between breathing into Toni's mouth, shouted. "Help! Help!”

  Doc was really struggling now, and Lorne had one hand helping to hold him up too, even as Doc continued the chest compressions. Lorne's legs were starting to fail when the boat found them. He was still shouting for help between breathing into Toni's mouth.

  "Damn, what have we here?” The shrimp boat captain said looking out of the pilothouse window towards the deck at the three people that his crew had dragged aboard. The two men just dragged out of the water were still desperately performing CPR on the woman. "This just doesn't look good," the captain said out loud. "There is going to be some damn red tape over this."

  In a couple of minutes, before the first mate arrived to take the wheel, Toni sputtered and sat up. She spit water out, choked, and then spit again. Lorne supported her shoulders. Doc collapsed on the deck, unable to even sit up.

  Two of the crew wrapped her and Doc in blankets, and then carried them into the cabin. Lorne struggled to his feet, and followed them. The captain greeted him in the cabin. "Yo. What did you guys do? Sink your boat?” The captain motioned toward the galley table and sat down while the crewmembers carried Toni and Doc into the captain's quarters and laid them each down on a bunk. Lorne quickly checked both Toni and Doc over as the crewmembers carried them past. Both Doc and Toni smiled at Lorne, and he relaxed.

  "You might say that," Lorne replied taking a seat at the table.

  "In this little squall?"

  "Yes," Lorne replied.

  "I reckon I should call the Coast Guard, then."

  "Captain, I would greatly prefer it if you don't."

  "Well Lad. It is like that, is it?"

  "Yes, Captain. It is like that."

  "All right lad. It will be as you wish. I have no liking for the government's red tape anyway."