by J. W. Vohs
David nodded. “We all care a lot about her and her family. Her dad just saved my butt, and he couldn’t have done it without Brittany’s mom and little sister.”
“I’ve gotten to know her a bit,” Jack replied. “I like her, too. She wasn’t in Fort Wayne with Heder, and I don’t think she’d double-cross us. Hopefully, the worst thing she’ll have to deal with after we bust Heder is a broken heart.”
“I’m sure she knows how to deal with one of those,” Lori said. “But on the off-chance that we’re missing something, I’ll keep my eye on her when we bring Red down.”
Carter looked at Jack. “Ya got any ideas fer that? Maybe ya should stop thinkin’ like a general and put on yer professor-hat, professor.”
“What are you talking about, Carter?” Jack asked as he smacked the table.
“Man, ya used to bring up examples from history almost every time we got in a jam. Ya always told me that somebody, somewhere, had already had to figure out how to handle whatever problem we was talkin’ about. So, how did folks uncover moles in the past?”
Chien grinned at Jack. “Midway.”
Jack cocked his head in confusion for a moment, then smiled back. “Good idea, sir, that might work.”
Carter looked from his best friend to his former commander. “It’d sure be nice if one of ya talkin’ heads decided to explain what yer referrin’ to . . .”
“Well,” Jack began, “back in the spring of 1942, the Americans could tell from radio traffic that the Japanese were preparing for a big attack somewhere. The problem was that we weren’t sure where they were going to hit us. One of our intelligence people suspected that the target was Midway Island, and he suggested that the brass order the defenders there to send out a message that the island was running low on fresh water. Before long, the Japanese were telling one another that AF, I think it was AF—guess it doesn’t matter, you guys get the idea, was running low on water. Unfortunately for them, they’d been talking about all their preparations for invading AF for weeks before then. Once we knew the Japanese target, we were able to set a trap for them. We could do something like that here.”
“How?” Blake wondered.
“I’ll call a meeting for everyone tonight. At that meeting, I’ll announce that in light of recent events, we think it’d be best to evacuate the island. Our destination will be Pelee Point, on the Ontario shore. We’ll be leaving in three days.”
Carter smiled like a coyote. “No mole could resist sharin’ that info with his boss.”
The meeting was held in a hangar at the airport, and while the announcement was met with dismay, Jack answered everyone’s questions with his best poker face. He calmly explained to the people gathered at Middle Bass that Barnes would continue to attack them now that he knew about the settlement, and there really was no choice but to evacuate. Given what the residents had just witnessed, running away from Barnes seemed to be a logical, if unfortunate, plan of action.
With the trap set for Heder, several coordinated surveillance teams kept a keen but distant watch over the young lieutenant. Different people were pre-positioned near his home, and these monitors could hand off the observation assignment as he moved about the island. As the people of Middle Bass returned to their dwellings following the meeting, Heder was constantly in sight of at least one of the four observers conducting the surveillance. They didn’t have long to wait. The cunning lieutenant slipped out of his small house as soon as darkness had settled in, bundled up against the cold and walking purposefully through the streets to the outskirts of the tiny town. He then slipped into some bushes for a moment, probably to make sure he wasn’t being followed, before moving through them and heading toward the back of an old mobile home that nobody had bothered to claim as a winter residence.
David, Pete, and Lori had been tailing Heder, but kept out of his line of sight while observers on the radio gave them directions. In less than a minute the three were standing next to the thin, uninsulated walls of the mobile home. They could easily hear the traitor call out a code over what they assumed was a powerful, military-grade radio, or perhaps a satellite phone. As soon as the contact was established, Heder spoke openly about what had been said at the meeting. The most damning evidence came after he informed the enemy of Jack and the islanders’ supposed plans. “I’ll be at the rear of the convoy in a white cabin cruiser with an orange flag; make sure your people know who I am.”
The conversation ended after what everyone assumed were words assuring the traitor that he would be taken care of. A few minutes later, Heder stepped out of the back door to find three guns pointed at his chest. He didn’t try to run or resist in any way, in fact, he seemed calm to the point of cockiness.
Slowly lifting his hands over his head, he presented his case. “This isn’t what you think . . .”
Lori stopped him in mid-sentence. “On your knees, hands behind your head. You make any other move, and I will send a nine-millimeter, hollow-point bullet into your damn face.”
Heder had heard about what Lori had done to Brittany’s kidnappers on North Bass Island the previous summer, and he’d seen her in battle on more than one occasion. He did exactly as he was told.
“Now,” she said, “I’m gonna cuff you. If you do anything other than slowly put your hands behind your back, David will shoot you. Do you understand?”
“Yes ma’am.” Heder didn’t do anything to get himself shot, and by the time Lori had him cuffed, a van was on sight to take him back to the island’s small airport for interrogation. David and Pete kept an eye out for booby-traps as they methodically searched the trailer. They found a satphone hidden behind some books in a cupboard and handed it off to Lori before they set off in the van with their prisoner.
Lori spent a few minutes collecting her thoughts before she left to find Brittany. The young woman was easily located at her parents’ house, playing a game of Risk by lamplight. The young fighter instantly knew something was wrong, and suspected that it involved her fiancé. “Hey, what’s up?”
“We need to talk about your boyfriend.”
CHAPTER 26
Jack was waiting for Heder at the airport. As the minutes passed he began to wonder if he should turn the entire investigation over to Chien, realizing that his anger was ratcheting up as he considered the consequences of the young lieutenant’s betrayal. Finally, the vehicle carrying the prisoner and his captors materialized in the growing darkness. David was the first to put his boots on the floor after the truck stopped, and he quickly pulled Heder from the back seat before dragging him over to a wooden chair positioned in front of a battery of halogen work-lights.
After carefully securing the traitor to the seat, David turned to Jack. “Before you talk to the prisoner, I want you to know that torture violates the Eighth Amendment to the Constitution.”
Jack just stared at his little brother for a few seconds before David smirked and continued. “Unfortunately for this turncoat bastard, the U.S. government collapsed six months ago. Martial Law is in effect anywhere proper authority exists to enforce it, General Smith.”
Heder continued to put up a brave front. “Too bad his rank wasn’t approved by Congress before the government collapsed. As far as we know, I’m the highest ranking commissioned officer on this island.”
Jack slowly walked over to the lieutenant and bent at the waist until his face was only a few inches away from Heder’s. “Last time I checked, I was the only history professor on Middle Bass.”
He briefly looked around the room before continuing to address his betrayer. “But that Ph.D. is worth as much as your commission nowadays: absolutely nothing.”
Heder was looking less cocky than he had been a few minutes earlier, but he kept talking as Jack stood upright and took a step back. “One thing everybody knows about you, Smith, is that you’re a decent man. You’re smart, too. You know that Barnes is never gonna give up, and eventually he’s gonna get you. So I saw the writing on the wall and tried to make sure I could keep Br
ittany safe; is that a crime now? Contact Barnes and let him know you have me. See what he’ll trade for me.”
Jack was on him in a second, lifting the man, chair and all, by the front of his coat. Jack’s voice was calm, but those who knew him recognized the dange in his tone. “For who, Andi? You think your life is more important than hers? Can you bring her back from the dead?”
Somehow, through the haze of hatred clouding his judgment, admitting that Andi was dead broke something inside of Jack. He set Heder down with a thud and turned to his brother. “This idiot isn’t worth my time. You and Pete can question him, but I doubt he has any reliable intelligence we don’t already have. He actually thought Barnes would care that we have him—that proves he doesn’t have a clue about how our self-appointed president operates.” On his way out the door, he turned back one last time. “Bobby and Marcus are officially in charge of our prisoners. They decided to let the boat crew go; those guys were just civilians forced into working for Barnes. Marcus might enjoy a real enemy to debrief. You can leave Heder to him if you want to.”
After Jack left, David looked at Pete. “What do you want to do with him?”
Pete shrugged. “Let’s lock him up and let the professionals have a crack at him. Personally, I’m ready for a hot meal and some shut-eye.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” David agreed. They dragged the prisoner to an office and locked him in with the lights off. “I’ll radio Marcus, we should probably wait until he—”
A side door swung open and Lori and Brittany walked in. Brittany’s eyes were cold as she held up the satphone. “One of the calls he made was right after we left to meet the Canadians in Sarnia; that son-of-a-bitch got Father O’Brien and Bruce killed up there.”
Lori put a hand on the angry young woman’s shoulder. “I want to give her a moment with Heder, if you guys don’t mind.”
Pete shrugged. “We’re finished with him; David was just about to call Marcus to take over here.”
Lori nodded in response and held out her hand for the key. She then opened the door and waved Brittany through. “I’ll stay out here, but I can watch through the little window. If I think you’re in trouble, I’m coming in.”
Brittany positioned herself between Heder and the door, bending over a bit as if she wanted to speak quietly to her ex-fiancé. Lori watched as Brittany’s shoulders twitched with odd jerking movements, suggesting that the two former lovers were having a highly animated conversation. After a few minutes, Lori was about to open the door and ask the girl if anything was wrong when Brittany turned around. She locked eyes with Lori before stepping away from Heder. The traitor’s life had been cut short by an old rosary necklace, twisted around the folds of his neck until his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets.
The day following Heder’s arrest brought the worst blizzard to Middle Bass Island that anyone had ever seen on Lake Erie. For two days the snow fell at over an inch an hour, blown into drifts by gale-force winds that buried vehicles and small buildings. Safe in the knowledge that no attack was possible in such weather, the people on the island stayed inside, wrapped themselves in warm clothing, and enjoyed the temporary peace the storm ensured. When the weather finally calmed on the morning of the third day, the islanders who ventured outdoors quickly retreated from the most bitter cold any of them had ever experienced. The temperature was thirty below, with clear skies above and not a breath of wind in the frigid air.
Jack went out for a few minutes to find Pete Henderson. “How long you lived on this island, Pete?”
“I was born here. Left for a stint in the Navy and worked in Toledo for three years back in the nineties. Other than that, I’ve been out here working in the marina.”
Jack nodded. “The way I always understood the Great Lakes is that the water is usually warmer than the air moving across. Lots of snow, but not the low temperatures inland locations at the same latitude endured.”
“Yep, that’s how it usually works.”
“So I’m safe in assuming that cold like this is unheard of out here?”
“We might have had some wind chills take us this low in the past, but this is like being in a giant freezer.”
“What’s going to happen to the water, Pete?”
The life-long islander shrugged. “Harbors, bays, shallow waters, they’re all freezing over now. If it stays cold like this with no wind, we’ll be able to ice-skate to Ontario by the end of the week.”
Jack stared out toward the distant lake without saying a word. Finally, Pete asked, “Not what you wanted to hear?”
Jack shook his head. “If we could skate to Canada, Barnes can send a million infected out here.”
“A million? For real?”
“Well, tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands like he did at Vicksburg. Once the numbers reach a certain point, there’s no need for further speculation; we’ll be overwhelmed.”
Pete couldn’t hide the frustration in his voice. “So we really are gonna have to evacuate?”
“Yep, as soon as humanly possible. Can snow-mobiles travel on the ice?”
“We drive our trucks on the ice when it gets thick enough.”
“How long will that take?”
“With this cold, I have no idea. We can’t even know how long it will stay like this; could be forty-five degrees in a couple of days.”
Jack looked doubtful. “Not this year. I think the Utah weather folks have misjudged just how much cooling all the fires caused. Heck, for all we know, a big volcano went off somewhere too. Not like we have any news about what’s going on in the rest of the world.”
“Well,” Pete considered, “this kind of cold, with no wind, will freeze the western part of Lake Erie real quick—in a matter of days.”
“All right, we need to get everyone digging out and ready to move.”
“Where we gonna go? We can’t stay out in the open, and all of our supplies are here.”
“We pack the supplies we need,” Jack replied. “The islanders have several evacuation options, thanks to Father O’Brien. And I think I need to get a message to Christy’s Canadian cousin.”
The decision to resume evacuation preparations was met with disbelief by most of the people who’d tried to do anything outside for more than a few minutes; nobody believed that they could survive this cold long enough to even cross Lake Erie, let alone make their way to any of their back-up locations. But Jack had led his people this far, and they were prepared to follow him to hell and back. The islanders considered Jack a living legend, and while some of them grumbled, they would go too. Several of Chien’s hard-bitten fighters argued that most people would die of exposure during any evacuation attempt, while believing that they, personally, would find a way to survive. Plus, they weren’t going to abandon the colonel, and Chien was behind Jack a hundred percent.
Preparations were hurried but thorough; observers were posted out on the thickening ice, which was already strong enough to support humans on foot or skates. Work began on the transportation, which would consist of ATVs, snowmobiles and sleds. Supply manifests were developed according to a priority list the officers agreed upon immediately following the initial meeting. Everyone else had a shovel in hand, trying to dig what were essentially tunnels from homes and storehouses to the lakeshore. The weather didn’t change, record cold temperatures with minimal winds persisted. Those who knew a bit about meteorology speculated that the massive, powerful storm system that had brought the blizzard had also pulled down a stable, high-pressure system from the arctic after passing through the Midwest.
Five days after the actual evacuation was ordered, Pete and several other islanders drove their snowmobiles all the way to the mouth of the Detroit River and back. They reported rock-solid ice covering the entire route, and found the surface remarkably flat. Usually, ice on Lake Erie would run the gamut, from clear and smooth, to massive ridges formed by thawing and refreezing. Strange formations were also created by the wind whipping waves over existing struct
ures until they froze solid. What Pete saw on this day was a skating rink all the way to Detroit. He thought it was miraculous, while Jack believed it was due to the combination of record cold and low winds. Either way, most of the people of Middle Bass found their hope increasing when they heard the report on ice conditions along the evacuation route.
Even though islands no longer afforded the same level of protection the inhabitants of Middle Bass had once taken for granted, some residents decided to relocate to one of Father O’Brien’s recommended rendezvous points: Middle Sister Island. While Jack was planning to lead the main group all the way to Manitoulin Island, Middle Sister seemed like a reasonable option for anyone who doubted that a long trek to the northern region of Lake Huron was survivable. In any event, there was no guarantee that they would be welcomed by the survivors on Manitoulin Island; since the weather was wreaking havoc with radio communications, Jack hadn’t been able to ask for permission to show up with a group of needy refugees.
The day after learning that the ice was strong enough to support their vehicles, Jack and his officers felt like they were as ready as they were ever going to be. Snowmobiles and sleds, along with ATVs with chains on their tires, would carry the refugees from Middle Bass to Middle Sister and on to Manitoulin. Tons of supplies that couldn’t be taken along were stashed and cached all over the island, and everyone was kept on high alert so they could leave on short notice. At the lookout posts on the ice and outer islands, sharp-eyed soldiers watched for the approach of hunters day and night, but as shifts continued to pass without incident, the guards began to believe that perhaps the infected couldn’t function in the bitter cold gripping the region. All of that type of speculation ended when observers posted on South Bass reported a vast horde of the flesh eaters on the horizon, accompanied by the obligatory Blackhawk helicopters.