“El!” Frank blasted into the lab. “Let’s go!”
“No, Frank, go away.”
“Ellen, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Move your ass.”
“Don’t talk to me like that, Frank. Go away. I’m enjoying the silence.”
“Ellen.” He marched up to her. “You knew this was coming.”
“Yeah so, it’s stupid.”
“Stupid? Stupid is radioing my man in the tunnels to find out you aren’t there. Stupid is radioing my man in the Living Section to find you aren’t there either. Stupid is finding you sitting in this lab with a fuckin nail file in your hands. Now get your ass off that stool and head to the tunnels or I’ll carry you down there.”
“You will not, Frank. I’ll lock myself in the back closet. It’s hot out. It’s sticky and with all those people, it will smell down there.”
“If this was a real attack ...”
“If this were a real attack, I would be there!” Ellen yelled then calmed down. “But it’s not and I’m not.”
“Fine!” Frank backed up, speaking into the microphone. “Dad, I’m at the clinic. How much time do I have?”
“Forty seconds, Frank,” Joe told him.
“Thanks.” Frank headed to the door and looked back. “El, just so you know, the clinic is a targeted hit in this drill. Thirty seconds, if your ass isn’t out of here, you’re dead.”
“Oh so what?” She sat there. “Go do your drill.” Laughing when Frank grumbled at her, Ellen swung her leg back and forth, filing her nails. A few seconds more of that silence and her thoughts, Ellen sprang from the stool, raced from the clinic, and down to the front door. The second she got there, Dan stood blocking the doors. “Dan.” She tapped on the glass. “Let me out.”
“Can’t do that, Ellen. You’re dead. The clinic is gone.”
“Let me out.” She rattled the door and only grew irritated when Dan smirked at her. She tossed her hands up. “I’m a casualty. Wait until I lay out Frank for letting me die in here.”
<><><><>
He munched on what looked like beef jerky but in actuality it was a protein snack, created by the Caceres Society laboratories, made from soy and other vegetables. But to Private Tom Collins, instead of enjoying it, he thought of that plane load of soccer players that crashed into the Andes Mountains. He stared at it, tried to bite it then pulled it away from his mouth. “Berry, do you suppose this is really vegetables or do you think this is human flesh.”
“What are you talking about?” The other soldier sat next to him.
“This.” Tom showed the protein snack.
“There’s something wrong with you.” Berry snatched it up, stuck it in his mouth and continued to clean his rifle. “You are going to be hungry now.”
“I’ve been hungry before but I’ve never been soldier before. This is a first.”
“You should be honored.”
“Why?” Tom asked. “I didn’t ask to serve in some army. I wasn’t told that I would have to. When that peace ambassador found our camp, he told me that society has started rebuilding and in exchange for food and medical, our help was needed help build the United States of America back.”
“And you’re helping. You’re protecting. Some farm, some build, some protect.”
“Protecting what?” Tom tossed his hands up. “This morning we’re told that we’re getting shipped out. To where? We’re trying exercise ‘Eileen’ out for real. What is that shit?”
“You heard the Colonel. He said we’re hitting some militant post on the west. Suppose to be important.” Berry shrugged. “I don’t question it. If it’s for the good of the country, then it’s for the good of me.”
“Should we be fighting though? I don’t mind participating in the ‘Operation Clean Sweep’ you know, finding others and putting them in the Caceres cities, but this fighting.” Tom shook his head. “I wasn’t told I’d have to fight, not to mention fighting alongside crazy men.” Tom pointed to a large squad. Orderly and in synch, they cleaned and prepared their weapons.
“They’re just the quiet bunch.” Berry looked at the CMEs.
“They’re aliens.”
“They are not.” Berry shook his head. “Get your weapon ready. We have maneuvers.”
“You know what?” Tom stood up grabbing his rifle. “I’d rather nap.”
Berry watched Tom walk away, but he didn’t go to his sack to lie down. He stopped at another group of men, ones that Berry heard complaining similar to Tom. Making a mental note of that, Berry returned to cleaning his rifle, fully intent on bringing Tom’s attitude to the attention of the Society heads.
<><><><>
“You have just got to love Drill Day.” Frank gloated as he walked into his father’s office and set down his clipboard.
“It was exhilarating,” Joe said, sitting back. “The people seemed to have fun.”
“Yeah that they did.” Frank plopped down in the chair across from his father, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a cigarette. “But I’ll tell ...”
“Frank, why are you smoking?”
“Who me?” Frank put the cigarette away. “I wasn’t.”
“You just pulled out a cigarette.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Frank!” Joe slammed his hand down. “I watched you.”
“You’re thinking of Robbie.” Frank grabbed his clipboard. “Are you ready to go over these results?”
“Yeah, go on.”
“All right. The whole entire drill, from start to finish, took twenty-two minutes. We have to shave some time off. From the initial spotting of the troops, we were giving them heavy artillery, tanks to storm, and missile launchers, we proceeded to armor up and evacuate to the tunnels. Within four minutes, we had a front line at the back gate. That was pretty good. Five minutes to six minutes we had every available man at either south or north dispensaries and Armory, prepping them to go. We dispersed them immediately and we had our center town team of twenty moving out and about by nine minutes. That’s where I need to shave time. Clinic reported having the patients out and into the metal structure in eleven minutes. Now I added two more minutes to that because we were moving dummies. Had they been real, it would have taken more time.”
“That’s good, where are our incoming now?”
“Eleven minutes post start at a good ground speed, two hundred yards to Beginnings.”
“Helicopters?”
“In the air.”
“Town’s people.”
“Pretty much all in the tunnels.”
“Picking up the troops at what, three miles away? Where did we stand at the end of complete evacuation?”
“Like I said, choppers were up by the time we had the town pretty much squared away. Robbie and the other choppers were in firing position, able to take them out.”
“You?”
“Fighting with Ellen.”
“Christ.” Joe leaned back. “She wouldn’t leave again?”
“Nope, so I marked her as a casualty. I said they fired ten missiles at us. Any more than that and strategically they’re destroying what they want. She was a goner.”
“How many casualties with the missile attack?”
“With the trenches at the gates now and buildings hit, I’m gonna say we were good with about twelve. We had eight people in the Living Section, they hit the basements. But you and I both know, the safest place for everyone is the tunnels, especially if they hit us with gas.”
“What did your tunnel man report?” Joe asked.
“He said everyone was organized. They all grabbed emergency supplies and were ready to hit the route out.”
“Then I say we had a very good evacuation drill. As long as everyone doesn’t mind the disruption, we should keep it up. How much less time was this one than the last?”
“Four minutes.”
“Excellent. We’ll protect this place yet, won’t we? Remind me to get Dean tomorrow to generate some of his gas. We want to be fully stoc
ked if we ... what?” He saw Frank snicker.
“Dean’s gas.” Frank shook his head.
“What the hell is the matter with the grown men in this community?” Joe shook his head and picked up his phone when it started to ring. “Excuse me.” He pressed the button. “Yes? Oh really?” He looked at Frank. “One of us will be right there.”
“What’s up?” Frank asked as he watched his father hang up.
“That was the dead woman. She said if we want to find out the winner in Beginnings biggest betting pool, we’d better head down there right now.”
“No shit?” Frank stood up. “I have twenty hours at stake. Need a lift down?”
“Uh you know, I think I will. Someone has to be there to help keep the crowds in order.” Joe, in a good mood and excited about finding out the ‘big’ results, headed out with Frank, certain he was going to be a winner.
<><><><>
Very sneaky-like, Ellen stood to the side of the double doors, peeking in her head and jumping back. She smiled when she saw the door open and Dean poke his head through. “You got it Dean?” she whispered.
Dean looked up and down the hall then stepped out. “Got it. Here.” He handed it to her. “Now hurry.”
Ellen held it tightly, running down the hall to the examining room, nearly sliding as she made it to the table. “Shut the door.”
Dean stood by the door’s window, keeping watch. “Just hurry up before they miss him.”
“I am. I am.” Ellen uncovered the blanket exposing a tiny newborn boy. “Aw, who cut the damn cord this badly. Now this kid will have an outie.”
“Ellen, screw the cord.” Dean peeked through the shades. “Just do it.”
“OK.” She grabbed the baby’s foot. “I hate doing newborns. They squirm.”
“Ellen.”
“OK!” She pricked the needle into the heel of the baby’s foot. “Look, Dean, he didn’t cry.” She then placed the tiny tube under the bead of blood and caught it. “Come on ... bleed. He’s not bleeding enough.”
“Squeeze the foot more,” Dean told her.
“OK.” Ellen squeezed the heel tightly. “It’s working. I’ve got it.” Securing the newborn with her elbow, she capped the tiny tube of blood and tossed it in her pocket. “All done.” She wrapped the baby back up and lifted him. “Here, Dean.”
Dean took the baby, and brought his lab coat around to hide him. “Check for an all clear.”
Ellen sneaked by him and checked the hall up and down. “Go.” She moved out of his way so Dean could dart by her.
“El, start those.”
“I will.”
Keeping his pace quick, but not too quickly, Dean ran back down to the birthing room, opened the door slightly, then walked in with his back to everyone.
“Dr. Hayes!” Andrea approached him.
“Um yeah, Andrea.”
“Give him here.” She snapped her fingers. “Now.”
Dean turned around, opened his coat, and handed Andrea the baby.
“What made you think you could get away with this unnoticed?”
“You guys were busy.”
“What did Trish tell you? No blood tests. I cannot believe you did this.”
Dean lifted his shoulders. “Sorry.”
Holding the baby, Andrea walked to Trish, stopped, and went back to Dean, whispering, “Let me know the results.” She winked and headed back to Trish. “Here you go, sweetheart, your baby boy.”
Trish sniffled as she took the baby in her arms for the first time. “I can’t believe he took my baby, Andrea.”
“I know, sweetheart.” Andrea tapped her leg. “He’s a bad man.”
<><><><>
“I hear there’s a lot,” Dean whispered to Ellen as they left the lab.
“How many can there be?”
“Ellen, there are three hundred and fifty-six work hours bet here. That’s a lot of people.”
“Yeah, Dean, but Robbie bet forty himself.”
“I can’t believe you and Henry agreed to match every hour.” Dean moved to the waiting room and stopped. “Holy shit.”
“Is this the whole town?” Ellen asked.
“Just about.” Dean smiled and walked in. “We’ve got the results.” Dean held them up into the crowded waiting room. “Now breaking clinic rules, mother’s wishes, and ...”
“Dean!” Frank yelled out, “just tell us the fuckin results. Who’s the father?”
“Easy, easy.” Dean held up his hand. “Now since I didn’t bet, I get to announce. Not even Ellen knows. So, all those for it being Jeff’s baby stand to my right. All those for it being Hap’s baby stand to my left.” Dean watched everybody move around, amusing himself by the way that every listened as if it were one giant game of Simon Says. To the right of him, thirty people stood, to the left, Ellen and Henry. “Now the way I am going to ...”
“Dean!” Frank yelled out. “Today.”
“All right.” Dean opened the folder. “The way I understood this is you people who think the baby is Jeff’s bet work hours. Ellen and Henry matched them. Meaning, if it’s Jeff’s, they have to work those hours, if it’s Haps, you work that amount for them.” Dean heard the grumbling. “OK, OK.” He snickered. “After carefully running the results, not once but twice, you people.” He pointed to the Jeff side. “You people get ...” Dean laughed, “to make Ellen and Henry’s life a little easier. The baby is Hap’s. You owe them three hundred and fifty-six work hours. Thank you.” Before the rush of anger and the painful stampeding of Henry and Ellen began, Dean took off.
Ellen moved closer to Henry when she saw the angry stares. “Something tells me this isn’t good.”
“I have to agree, El. People can be such sore losers.”
“Wanna make a run for it?”
“OK.”
Grabbing Henry’s hand, Ellen ran with him from the waiting room, down the hall, and to the lab. She shut the door, locking it behind her. “Where’s Dean?” She looked around.
Henry peeked out the blind. “At least they didn’t mob us.”
“Good thing.” Ellen let out a breath. “Wow, three hundred and fifty-six hours. That’s a lot of work people have to do for us.”
“We’ll be lazy, El.” There was a sudden, long moment of silence, awkward and needing to be filled.
Ellen moved to the door. “It’s probably safe to leave. I have work.”
“So do I.” Henry paused before going out. “Thanks, El.”
“Henry?” Ellen stopped him. “You seem a little down today. Is everything all right?”
Henry really wanted to open his mouth and tell her, ‘No, El, I need you’ but he didn’t. He smiled sadly and held on to the door before he left. “Yes. Thank you though for asking.” He had it. He had the opportunity right there as he stared at her and Henry let it go, because flashing through his mind he saw himself letting go, and in their closeness, telling Ellen all that happened. And Ellen calling it, ‘Karma’. How could Henry expect any pity from Ellen, after the circumstances of Nick’s conception had come to light. So he quietly walked away, hoping Ellen would show him the niceties and concern again but do it when he wasn’t so vulnerable.
<><><><>
“I’ve gathered you all together here,” George walked around the conference table in the huge office he had, “to tell you that I heard from Santa Monica. They have commenced per the go ahead of our biological team. Attack number one has now begun. However ...” George held up his finger with a sneaky smile, “it ends up being attack number two, tricky but smart.”
Steward raised his hand. “Why aren’t we going about this straight forward? We have the manpower.”
“Stew, we need our manpower for bigger things and you know it. Though we can afford the loss of lives now, in the long run, in the big picture, we cannot. Beginnings is a step to the big picture. We need that land, but we have to do it right. If we obtain that land through massive losses, then we’ve defeated the entire purpose of needing that place.”
“So why not build what they have, another Communications Division? We have the technology.”
“We could.” George nodded. “But what they have someone else could very easily get their hands on and that we cannot chance. It’s in the interest of our country to seize our assets and we will. But Beginnings is smart. They also have a budding Air Division which we do not have. We have to hit them differently and differently we will. Everyone knows how to count to three. You know two comes after one, and three comes after two, but what happens if you’re expecting, one, two, three and you get, three, one, two? Confusion. When Beginnings gets confused, we get a victory.” George smiled and he knew he had lost his specialty team that sat at the conference table. They hadn’t a clue, no matter how well informed they were, to what he meant about number sequences, but George did. Soon so would Beginnings and that was all that mattered.
<><><><>
“Rolling Stones,” Frank stated with assurance as he sat next to Henry on Henry’s porch.
“Very good, Frank.” He showed Frank a bag of sunflower seeds. “Want one.”
“Nah. I’m telling you, Henry, I’m the seventies guy. There’s not much I don’t know about the seventies.”
“Frank?” Henry looked up to the darkened sky. “I heard you’re pulling an extra training session tomorrow.”
“Yeah, a couple of the guys want it. Why?”
“Could I ... Could I come?”
It was an odd request, and the oddity of it showed on Frank’s face. “Yeah, sure.”
“In fact. I’d like to ask you to teach me more, more hand to hand, more ...”
“Henry, does this have anything to do with what happened yesterday?”
“Of course it does.” Henry folded his hands.
“You’re a good fighter, Henry.”
“Not good enough.”
Frank took a second, trying to come up with words to say. He saw the hurt and the pain on his friend’s face. “You think if you were a better fighter, you could have done things differently?”
“Yes.”
“No,” Frank told him. “No. There were ten men.”
Blink of an Eye: Beginnings Series Book 8 Page 48