When they were a mere fifty feet from the back of a battered white building, Pollard called a halt. “Okay, Valencia. What does all your nerd gear say about those trucks?”
The private took a few deep breaths to steady himself. He was used to running in the Army, but the gear he carried, combined with the running in a crouch had taken away his breath. After a moment, he powered on a handheld device and fiddled with the knobs. Little lines bounced all over the monochromatic screen for a moment as he studied it before shutting it down.
“Yeah. They’re definitely jamming from this location.”
Pollard nodded. That’s what he’d expected. Whoever was out here wouldn’t have set up shop in such a shitty location if it wasn’t for a reason like this. The town was much closer to Holloman than the division intelligence officer had predicted the site would be, but Pollard had done a lot of thinking during the mission. The enemy—whoever they were—was probably more concerned with jamming the Air Force radars and aircraft-to-aircraft signals. The Army troops at Fort Bliss were being jammed because of signal bleed-over. That would explain why they’d had intermittent comms over the last couple of months, while it seemed like the Air Force had no comms whatsoever.
“Thought so,” he replied. “Cooper, work up an air strike request. If we can get a signal out, I want that burst going straight to Holloman so they know where they need to bomb. But, before we go back to the ORP and try to send that message, we need to see if there are any civilians left in the town. Put away your nerd shit, Valencia. We’re going to need your rifle.”
“Just the three of us?” the private asked sheepishly.
“We’re here now, Private. This is what we get paid to do. I don’t want to get into a firefight, but I sure as hell don’t want you struggling with all that gear instead of using your weapon. You get me?”
“Yeah. Okay, Sergeant,” Valencia said, powering down the device he’d been watching before slipping it into his backpack.
“We need to get exact grids on the jamming equipment so the zoomies will be able to take them out,” Pollard said, looking over to the JTAC. He wasn’t there and the sergeant cursed softly, bringing up his rifle.
“Hey, Sergeant Pollard,” Cooper hissed from the opposite end of the building where he’d gone to get a better angle on the trucks.
Pollard groaned at the airman’s initiative as Cooper waived frantically to him. “Stay here,” he grunted, pushing himself to his feet. He’d lay into Cooper for wandering off later.
He ran at a crouch underneath the windows dotting the building’s exterior until he sank to the hard-packed dirt beside the forward air controller. “What is it?”
“They’ve got a SAM protecting the site.”
Pollard frowned. He’d heard the term before, but honestly, he wasn’t sure what it meant. “Where?”
“It’s about twenty meters past this side of the building.”
Pollard edged around the airman to peek around the side of the building. A large, boxy tracked vehicle with three big rockets on the back sat about sixty feet away—the distance from home plate to the pitcher’s mound. He’d been a catcher in high school so he was very familiar with the distance. After observing for a moment, he didn’t see anyone manning the equipment.
The NCO scooted backward. “Okay, what is that thing? Some type of rocket artillery or something?”
Cooper shook his head. “Looks like an SA-6 or an SA-11. We had to learn about SAMs in school, but I can’t remember which one it is.”
Again, he heard the term, but it didn’t register with him. “Let’s pretend I don’t know what the fuck I’m looking at. What is that thing?”
“Surface-to-air missile launcher, Sergeant. It’s here to protect those jamming sites, from us. If a plane gets within a hundred miles of here—maybe two hundred, depending on what system that actually is—the missiles will launch and take it out.”
His simple plan of calling in the grid to have the Air Force bomb the shit out of the location just got a lot harder. “So, what do we do about it?”
“We either destroy the launcher now, or we go back to the base and get a bigger force, Sergeant. Unless we hit the area with MLRS from Bliss, the Air Force can’t risk losing the pilots. A lot them didn’t make it back on base when the infected hit Alamogordo.”
“Shit,” Pollard grumbled. “I was afraid you were gonna say that.”
“Can we use MLRS?” Cooper asked.
“I don’t think so. They don’t keep live rocket pods on Bliss. They have some at White Sands, but that adds another mission with non-combat troops leaving the base perimeter to go get them.” He slapped at the dirt on his knee. “Dammit, I think we have to do this ourselves.”
With resigned determination, Pollard tapped Cooper on the shoulder. “Go get Valencia. We’re going back to the ORP to get everyone up here to take this bitch out.”
6
* * *
BIGGS ARMY AIRFIELD, FORT BLISS, EL PASO, TEXAS
MARCH 4TH
“I say again, ‘One person on the helicopter.’ That’s it. It’s just me. The pilot. Número uno,” she deadpanned.
“What is your point of origination? Over.”
Hannah wondered what she should say to that. She’d started this mission in DC, then flew to Japan where they inserted into North Korea, and then across the Pacific to Brazil where here entire team was wiped out by the crazy fuckers that came out of the facility there. “Uh, Mexico?” she offered.
“Mexico? Are you an American citizen? Over.”
“Yes, goddammit! I got stuck in South America and have been trying to get back home ever since the crazies appeared. I finally found a working helicopter in Mexico. Uh…over.”
“Have you been bitten? Over.”
The constant ache in her palm reminded her that she had been bitten, but that was months ago now. She’d traveled too damn far to make it back to the States for some asshole air traffic controller to waive her off from landing. “No. I’m good to go,” she replied.
“Okay, you are cleared to land on Biggs Field at the quarantined helipad site. Over.”
“Uh, I don’t know where that is,” Hannah admitted.
“Do you see Biggs Field? Over.”
“Yeah.”
“There is a large helipad about a mile to the north of the main part of the airfield with a single building. Do you identify that location? Over.”
She looked northwest and saw the location in the distance. “Yes. I see the helipad you’re talking about.”
“You are cleared to land there. Do not attempt to leave your aircraft until the medical team arrives to assess your claims of health. Over.”
“Acknowledged. Over.”
She pushed the bird forward, noting that a crowd of the crazies had gathered roughly below where the Blackhawk hovered at four hundred feet. The appearance of the crazies here in Texas was disconcerting. She’d imagined that the border wall with Mexico would have stopped the spread of the disease, but apparently it hadn’t.
Off to her left, a wall made of double-stacked shipping containers stretching as far as she could see circled the Army base. Soldiers and vehicles of various types sat atop the wall. None of them seemed to be paying special attention to her. That meant they were used to seeing helicopters, which meant, hopefully, that the Army was still functioning.
Hannah brought the helicopter over the airfield, then pushed it beyond the runways to the quarantined helipad. Within seconds of her landing, an Army Humvee raced across the access road from the main base. “Efficient little fuckers,” she muttered as she flipped switches to power down the bird.
She patted the seat between her legs, grateful that the helicopter had gotten her the rest of the way from Mexico to the States. Then she grabbed her pack and pushed open the door to meet the welcoming crew on the ground.
The Humvee stopped fifty feet away from her and all four doors opened quickly as soldiers got out. The three with M-4 rifles lifted the butt of thei
r weapons into the pocket of their shoulders, but did not point them at her. Instead, they kept them in the low ready position, aimed just off to the side. The fourth soldier was a female. She wore a drop-leg holster with a 9mm pistol inside.
The woman walked toward her. “Hello, ma’am. I’m Lieutenant Kraft. I’m a physician’s assistant with the aviation brigade. Do you mind if I check you over?”
Hannah set her pack on the ground and stepped away from the weapons strapped to the top. “Yeah. I mean, otherwise I gotta leave, right?”
“That’s right,” the lieutenant agreed, nodding. She stopped ten feet from Hannah and said, “I need you to step away from the helicopter please. The soldiers will check it out to make sure there aren’t any stowaways while I give you a quick evaluation.”
Hannah complied with the lieutenant’s directions while two of the soldiers walked past her to inspect the helicopter. The third one stayed near the Humvee, watching the entire scene for anything amiss.
“Okay, first thing we do is check your temperature,” Lieutenant Kraft said, retrieving a handheld device from the assault pack she wore like a fanny pack across her abdomen. Hannah dutifully opened her mouth, but Kraft shook her head and held up the device. “This checks the temperature of your skin. I just put this little marshmallow-looking thing on your forehead and…” She placed the thermometer against Hannah’s forehead. “Voilà! It’s done.”
The woman looked at the readout and frowned. “Are you feeling well today, ma’am?”
“Is there a problem?” Hannah asked.
“Your temperature is one hundred point two. Have you been drinking fluids?”
Hannah shook her head. “Not really. I’ve been in that bird for about five hours. Didn’t remember to drink much water.”
“Hydration is important, ma’am. Even though the temperatures aren’t as hot right now, you can still get dehydrated in the winter.”
“Yeah. I was just pretty busy flying the helicopter by myself and forgot.”
The lieutenant put the thermometer away and retrieved a stethoscope. “Please remove your shirt. You may leave your bra on for now.”
Hannah did as she was directed. “It’s clear, ma’am,” one of the soldiers said.
“Okay, go back to the Humvee. Elevated temperature, but she wasn’t drinking water while she flew.”
“Am I in danger here?” Hannah asked, eyeing the two soldiers as they walked backward slowly toward the vehicle.
“No more than I am,” the lieutenant chuckled. “If you attack me, I’m dead. But the MPs there will kill you too.” She grinned up at Hannah, who was almost a full head’s height taller. “So, don’t do anything dumb and we’ll both be okay.”
The stethoscope’s metal was cool against her skin. “Take a deep breath.”
Hannah did as she was told for several iterations. When the other woman stepped back from her she said, “I’ve been out of contact with anyone for so long. I thought the crazies were only down in Central America, that’s why I was trying to get home. I guess they’re here too, huh?”
The lieutenant nodded. “Take off your shoes, socks, and pants. I need to visually inspect every inch of you. We’ll turn away from the soldiers while I examine your breasts and vaginal area.” Hannah bent down to untie her bootlaces. “To answer your question, yes. The infected are here too. They’re worldwide as best we can tell. There was definitely activity in Europe and Asia before the news stopped bothering to show anything but CCTV footage.”
She grasped Hannah’s left arm at the biceps and lifted it up, examining the skin. “What are you looking for?” she asked.
The lieutenant stopped and said, “You really have been alone, huh? Bite marks, infected scratches, open sores. Those are the hallmark of an infection—well, besides bleeding eyes and nose, and a nasty habit of biting everything that gets near your mouth.” Hannah had distracted the woman enough that she forgot to examine her hand, switching to the other side and inspecting her quickly.
“Okay,” Kraft said from behind her. “Bend over and pull down your underwear. Don’t worry, the guys can’t see anything from this angle.”
Hannah did as she was told. “Have you ever seen anyone with a bite on their ass?” she asked.
“Okay, pull up your underwear and turn around. Last place is your breasts, so I’ll need you to lift up your sports bra.” She watched as Hannah’s bra came up and her breasts flopped out. “Lift them up,” the PA directed. Again, Hannah made sure that the scar on her hand was hidden as she complied with the order.
“Alright, you can get dressed now, ma’am.” She stepped back from Hannah and seemed to relax. “She’s clear, guys. We’ll be over in a minute,” Lieutenant Kraft called out, waving her hand over her head.
“I’ve seen some crazy places where people got bitten early on,” the lieutenant chuckled. “I mean, some really crazy places too. Makes you wonder just what the heck some people were doing. You’re the first person to land any type of aircraft here in probably six months, though. Before that, we used to get a few stragglers who made it past the hordes somehow and got to the walls, but nobody’s had the balls to fly in.” She extended her hand. “I’m Alexandra.”
“Hannah,” she replied, grasping the physician assistant’s hand. “I was on foot since the very beginning of all this. I only found the helicopter yesterday.”
“Seriously? That’s not your helicopter?”
“No. I took it from an old airport in Mexico.”
“Wow. It’s impressive that you’re alive. How’d you know how to fly it?”
Hannah shimmied into her pants. “I was a Blackhawk pilot in the Army up until last year—uh, I guess two years ago now. I was certified as an instructor pilot, so I know how to fly the bird solo. Good thing, too.”
“What were you doing down in Mexico?”
“I, uh… Well, that’s classified, really. Hell, probably not anymore though,” she said, lifting her uninjured hand to indicate the walls. In truth, she hadn’t thought about her role in the attempt to stop the spread of the bioweapon in a long time. Now that she was back with the military, she should get debriefed. “I need to talk to the intel folks on base, Alexandra. Is there any way to do that?”
“Intel? What do you mean, ma’am?”
“I wish I could tell you, but I don’t think I can. Do you have a brigade staff here with an S-2?”
“We have a shell staff. Most everyone is a trigger-puller on the walls these days.”
“Okay. I need to talk to somebody at Division then. Somebody who has a TS clearance. Can I get a ride over there?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. First you’re gonna have to talk to the colonel. She’ll decide what to do with you. Normally, refugees just go to the camps, but since you’re a pilot, she may want to keep you here.”
“Keep me? What do you mean?”
“We have less than half of our pilots, so you’re a valuable asset. The general likes to have a bird up at all times for observation, so another pilot into the rotation would be huge for crew rest. Some of the guys are pretty haggard.”
Hannah shook her head. “You’re not hearing me, lieutenant. I may have some very valuable intel that people need to know about. I’ve got to talk to the intelligence officer at division.”
“I’m not authorized to let you go up to division, ma’am. You’ll need to talk to the colonel and she’ll decide what to do with you.”
Hannah grunted in frustration. She hadn’t known what to expect by returning back to the military, but the lack of deviation from the unit’s standard operating procedure was just par for the course.
“Fine,” she sighed. “I need to speak to the colonel immediately, then.”
7
* * *
NEAR LIBERAL, KANSAS
MARCH 4TH
A loud explosion interrupted the Campbell family’s evening meal.
“That was the pressure plate down at the turn off,” Vern said. “Quick, everyone. Like we rehearsed.”<
br />
There was a flurry of activity as each member of the group sprang to action, following their preplanned routine. Old Vern had known this day would come. The foreigners had cast their net wider each day, so it was only a matter of time before they found the hideout. But Vern was a Vietnam vet. He’d seen the remarkable ingenuity of the Viet Cong and liked to think he’d learned a thing or two from them all those years ago.
Vern’s little group had boobytrapped roads, game trails, and random buildings all over the county in an attempt to confuse the foreign invaders. After a couple of hits on the enemy’s patrols, there was no shortage of explosives and ammunition. The only thing lacking was the time to do everything that Vern wanted to do. Given the fact that the latest explosion was only a half-mile away, the old man wondered if they were now out of time all together.
Since he was too old to rush about quickly, Vern set himself up as the observer at a window with his old hunting rifle and binoculars. Carmen gathered the children, Miguel, Patricia, and baby Lincoln, and pulled a chair away from the table. Underneath, a rug was moved to reveal a trapdoor. The ladder was steep and Sidney had to assist her while she maneuvered down it cradling the baby. Mark ran around the kitchen, removing the cardboard from broken windows and opening others to allow the smell of their meal to dissipate. Vern’s granddaughters, Sally and Katie, gathered their food into bags, plates and all, then passed them down the ladder to Carmen. Sidney collected the group’s weapons that weren’t already stored away and placed them on the edge of the basement opening.
By that time, Mark was back in the kitchen with four duffle bags of clothing. Everyone had been instructed to keep all their clothes and extra gear packed and ready to go at all times. He tossed those down in the hole and the children moved them out of the way down below. The Campbell girls tied up the trash and threw the bag down the hole as well before descending the ladder. They accepted the weapons as Mark handed them down to them.
Five Roads To Texas | Book 11 | Reciprocity [Sidney's Way 3] Page 5