The Line of Departure: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series Book 4)

by G. Michael Hopf

  Gordon laughed.

  “So, I’m thinking about calling Barone myself. What do you think?”

  “I think that’s a dumb fucking idea. The colonel likes you but he doesn’t love you. I’m telling ya, the whole place is a shitstorm, a total clusterfuck.”

  “I need to know . . .”

  “Sorry to cut you off, but I need to give you a bit of advice. I try to never involve myself in people’s personal affairs, but I consider you a good friend. As a good friend, I’m telling you to let this girl go. I don’t know what your relationship was . . .”

  “There wasn’t . . .”

  “Whatever your relationship was, it’s over. Your obligation, your responsibility, is to your wife and that adorable little girl in there. The woman in Coos made a choice. She chose to stay, then to fight.”

  “I just feel . . . like it’s my fault, is all,” Gordon lamented.

  “Listen, that woman is an adult. You told me that she chose to stay. It’s a done deal. Your arrangement with her was to get her to a safe place and guess what? Coos was until the colonel went off the reservation. Hell, man, you could’ve brought her here and all hell could’ve broken loose here.”

  “I hear you. You’re right.”

  “I know I’m right. You need to let it go,” Gunny counseled.

  “You’re right, but a call . . .”

  “Would you just shut the fuck up about it? You calling back there won’t save her—that’s if she’s still alive. The colonel won’t listen to you, I’m telling you. Now, can you do me a favor?”

  “Ah, sure, what?”

  “Can we see if the chief has found us a house? It’s not that I don’t love staying here, but I’m sure you want your privacy back.”

  “Yeah, let’s make a run into town,” Gordon said with a smile.

  Both men turned and headed for the slider when Gunny stopped Gordon and said, “Oh, and give me my phone back. I don’t want you to do anything stupid.”

  Coos Bay, Oregon, Pacific States of America

  Barone opened his eyes slowly, awakened from the sun’s bright rays bursting through his office. Squinting, he rolled away from the sunlight and brought the pillow around to cover his head.

  He lay there and thought about getting up, but the pounding in his head was telling him to stay put. Just as he was drifting back to sleep, a loud knock awoke him. He pressed the pillow harder against his head, hoping that he wouldn’t hear it again. But again the loud knock on the door came, this time followed by Simpson’s voice.

  “Sir, are you in there?”

  “Go away,” Barone whispered to himself.

  “Sir, it’s your wife. It’s an emergency.”

  Frustrated, he lifted the pillow from his head and called out, “Come in, for God’s sake.”

  Simpson tried the handle but the door was locked.

  “Sir, it’s locked.”

  Barone threw the pillow in anger and rolled off the sofa. He grunted from the pain of moving and from the deep throbbing in his head. “God damn, I hurt,” he said before he lumbered over to the door, unlocked it, and swung it open.

  Simpson stared at Barone sadly. He had known him for a long time, and seeing him this way was disappointing and disheartening. Simpson was well aware of the troubles that Barone carried on his shoulders and why he had taken to the bottle. What distressed him more now was the information he had about his wife, which would only add to Barone’s anguish.

  Barone walked slowly back to the sofa and fell onto it.

  “Sir, I’m sorry to bother you, but I knew you’d want to know . . .”

  “What is it? Spit it out!” Barone lashed out.

  “Sir, your wife is gone.”

  “What do you mean, gone?”

  “When her day shift security detail showed up, they discovered that she, your daughter, and the night shift detail were gone. There’s no evidence of foul play.”

  “Contact all the checkpoints and inform them!”

  “Done, sir, we’re on top of this. We will track her down,” Simpson assured.

  “That’s it, nothing else? My wife is gone and no other info on it?” Barone yelled.

  “No, sir, we’re investigating it . . .”

  “Get out, get the fuck out!” Barone screamed.

  Simpson’s eyes widened, and without hesitation, he turned and left the office, closing the door as he went.

  Barone slouched farther into the sofa. Mixed feelings overcame him. He had resigned himself to the fact that their marriage was over; she had said it to him in so many words during numerous arguments following the massacre. He reflected on how often he missed out on family moments like the one depicted on the photo on his desk, where his wife and daughter stood smiling broadly during a trip while he was on deployment. Tears welled up, but he fought them back as he replaced his sadness with anger.

  “I need a drink,” he murmured to himself as he stood. He teetered back and forth but soon found his footing. He strode the short distance across the room to his desk and sat down. One drawer after another he looked into for something to drink, but each drawer provided nothing but disappointment until the last one. There, a half bottle of whiskey rolled forward from the force of opening the drawer. He picked it up, opened it, and drank straight from the bottle.

  After his second gulp, his eyes caught a glimpse of a list that Simpson had left on his desk yesterday. He pulled the paper out to reveal a list of two dozen names. At the top was Major Ashley’s name followed by names of Marines and civilians alike. He scanned the names, seeing if any were recognizable. His reviewed the list and stopped on a familiar name.

  He took a long drink from the bottle and set it down. He leaned back in his chair and asked himself, “Brittany McCallister. How do I know you?”

  McCall, Idaho

  Gordon and Gunny were chatting about a hunting trip that Gordon was planning. The phone call and subsequent request from Gunny had forced Gordon to reschedule the hunt he planned for today.

  “When was the last time you went hunting?” Gordon asked.

  “Two legged or four legged?” Gunny joked.

  “Four, of course. I’ve done enough two legged to satisfy a lifetime,” Gordon quipped.

  “That truck up there is flashing their lights,” Gunny remarked about the old Chevy Blazer coming toward them.

  Gordon recognized the vehicle as Rainey’s, so he slowed down and pulled his Humvee along the side of the highway.

  Rainey pulled up alongside Gordon with his window down. “Gordon, your brother needs you urgently. It’s his wife. She’s in a bad way; he needs you. She’s in the emergency room!”

  Gordon didn’t ask any questions, he just stomped on the accelerator and sped off toward the hospital.

  • • •

  Gordon ran into the hospital calling out for his brother. “Sebastian?”

  “Gordon, down here!” Sebastian replied as he exited from a room.

  “What’s going on? Is everything all right?” Gordon asked as he approached his brother. He could see the fear and concern written on his brother’s face.

  “It’s not all right; they don’t know what’s going on. She’s gotten worse; she’s in incredible pain,” Sebastian rambled.

  “Can I see her?”

  “No. No, not a good time, they gave her something to sleep. It’s the first time she’s rested in days,” Sebastian said.

  “Brother, I’m so sorry. What can I do?” Gordon asked.

  “They can’t do anything for her here; I need to get her somewhere. I know you have a relationship with some people in the government. Can we get her to the air base outside of Boise or somewhere else?”

  Gordon tensed up when Sebastian asked him the question. What help he could have provided he had destroyed not an hour ago. He steeled himself for what he was a
bout to say, knowing that saying the words meant his life was going to get a little more complicated.

  “We will find her help, I promise you. I’ll do whatever I can, you know that,” Gordon reassured.

  “Thanks, brother,” Sebastian said, then stood.

  “I’ll get to work,” Gordon said.

  Sebastian leaned in and gave him a hug. “Love you, brother.” Sebastian then left the room and made his way back to Annaliese.

  Gordon followed him out and exited the hospital; he squinted from the bright midday sun and looked for Gunny and the Humvee.

  The rumbling of the diesel engine caught his attention as he turned to his left and saw the Humvee pulling up.

  Gordon jumped in the passenger seat, turned to Gunny, and said, “Can I have that phone back?”

  Cheyenne, Wyoming

  Dylan burst into Conner’s office in what was becoming very common trait for the young chief of staff.

  “Don’t you knock?” Conner blasted him.

  “Sir, we’ve been trying to patch the call in here, but we can’t,” Dylan rattled off.

  “What call?”

  “Gordon Van Zandt! He’s on hold now in the conference room.”

  “Great news. Get in touch with the others and have them come ASAP. I think we’re going to be a go for this operation,” Conner said with a wide grin as he made his way to the conference room.

  Conner switched on the light. Most of the lighting in the capital building had been fixed, and with generators used as the primary power source, it was almost as if nothing had happened. Some elements of the past weren’t working, like the elevators and old computer networking systems, but they were replacing those systems daily. The phone systems had been a struggle, but they too were back up for the most part. Some glitches still existed, but the progress that had been made showed that life was slowly getting back to normal.

  Conner unmuted the conference speaker and said, “President Conner here.”

  “Mr. President, this is Gordon Van Zandt.”

  Conner could hear the conciliatory tone in Gordon’s voice. He didn’t know what prompted the call back, but he was confident Gordon was up to doing it.

  “Gordon, this is a surprise! From our last conversation I thought I’d never talk to you again,” Conner said, keeping his tone measured as he continued. “So, have you changed your mind?”

  “Yes, I’m in.”

  “Great, here are the details . . .”

  “One second, sir. Before I agree, I first need to discuss some terms.”

  Conner smiled at Gordon’s lack of respect. He never would have thought of interrupting the President of the United States, even as speaker of the house. Normally he wouldn’t have tolerated it, but in this one case, he would give Gordon a pass.

  “First, I need something done immediately. I have a medical emergency here in McCall. I need this person to be transported to wherever she can get the treatment she needs. I can’t stress enough that this needs to be done immediately.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “I don’t know, but she needs help ASAP.”

  The door to the conference room opened, and Baxter and Schmidt stepped in. Conner waved for them to sit down.

  “Okay, we’ll get a chopper ready to go as soon as we can. I don’t know where we’ll send her, but we’ll get her the care she needs,” Conner said as he gave Baxter a look that signaled for him to begin working on it.

  Baxter grabbed another phone receiver and dialed out.

  “Good. I also need a pallet of MREs, diesel fuel, 5.56, .308, 9-millimeter and .45 ammo, batteries . . .”

  “Hold on, hold on. After we’re done here, I’ll have you give your list to my chief of staff. Let’s get down to the details of the operation,” Conner said, taking control of the conversation.

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll send two choppers there, one to pick up your friend, the other for you. We’ll take you to just outside of Coos Bay; there you’ll take a motorcycle into town. Here’s what we need once you’re there: I need to know in detail what’s happening there. Don’t leave out any details. I need to know everything. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll give you everything you need,” Gordon replied.

  “And it has to be in person. I need you to physically meet with the colonel to gauge his mental state. I need to know if there is a revolt and if the colonel appears to be losing. If you can get me troop numbers, positions, equipment, et cetera, that would be ideal.”

  “I can’t guarantee that,” Gordon stated.

  “Just do it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Pack your bags. We’ll be there by the end of today,” Conner said while looking at Baxter for confirmation.

  “We have two birds on the tarmac ready to go. We just need to know his grocery list and coordinates.”

  “Can you hold on for a moment?” Conner asked.

  “Sure.”

  Conner muted the speaker. “Write down his list of equipment.”

  Conner unmuted the phone and listened as Gordon listed one by one each item he also wanted in exchange for his assistance. Once the list was confirmed, Gordon instructed them to send the choppers to the McCall Memorial Hospital.

  “Great. Any idea where you’ll take her?” Gordon asked.

  Conner looked at Baxter for the answer. “The best place to take her will be here in Cheyenne.”

  “Sounds good. I’ve gotta sign off and make preparations . . .”

  “Wait, do we have your number?” Conner asked quickly.

  “Yes, the man I spoke with first, his name was Dylan, he has it. Thank you for helping.”

  “Glad it’s going to work out,” Conner said, then hit the disconnect button.

  “Sir, if I might ask, is all of this worth it?” Baxter asked, rereading the extensive list of Gordon’s requests.

  “Believe me, this is well worth the investment. Major, I want you to command the mission. Get one of your best ops men ready. They’re taking a trip.”

  “Yes, sir. I know just the man for the job. He’s a good soldier and friend.”

  “You’re sending someone with him?” Baxter asked, confused. “Don’t you think that new development might upset Mr. Van Zandt?”

  “He will go along. We hold the cards, he doesn’t,” Conner stressed.

  The men discussed some details and Conner dismissed them. As they were leaving, he held Schmidt back.

  “Major, I’d like a word with you.”

  Schmidt turned around.

  “Close the door.”

  He did just that and went back to the table.

  “Have you met with Wilbur yet?”

  “Yes, sir. I did right after our meeting this morning.”

  “So, out of all the groups she identified which is the one that needs to be tackled first?”

  “These Lakotahs are a problem that we need to stop now, mainly because they’re right next door to us.”

  “Plans yet?”

  “Yes, I think we’ll let them come to us. If they hold their rally, we’ll scoop them up then.”

  Conner nodded his approval.

  “Who’s next?”

  “The Cascadians. The group in Washington is very radicalized and the Idaho group isn’t far behind. Some of the details from Secretary Wilbur show they support armed resistance and rebellion. I wasn’t prepared to give you my full brief but since you’re asking, sir, I would suggest we have the local authorities arrest them and transport them here for interrogation and detention.”

  “Aggressive. I like it. I knew I picked the right man for the job.”

  “I haven’t heard anyone mention it, but the epicenter of the eastern Cascadians are in the same town as this Van Zandt. It’s either an uncanny coincidence or God is telling us
something.”

  Conner adjusted in his seat and sat up. “I didn’t connect it.”

  “Yes, sir. McCall is ground zero for the eastern Cascadians.”

  “You have my approval to do what you need to do. Just keep me up to date.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I like you, Major. I gave you the responsibility of commanding our response to these separatists for a multitude of reasons and one is I think I can trust you. I can trust you, correct?”

  The expression on Schmidt’s face grew intense. “Absolutely, sir.”

  “I thought I could. That means what you and I discuss will be kept between us. Not even General Baxter or the vice president are to be made aware of the missions I might send you and your men on.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good, now let’s discuss some additional details I want to see happen for this Coos Bay mission. And remember, these new details are between you, me, and the man you send.”

  McCall, Idaho

  Gordon hung up the phone for the second time in as many hours. He had to move quickly to get everything in order for Annaliese’s pickup and his own departure. Dread enveloped him as he thought about how he was going to explain his leaving to Samantha. He hoped that Annaliese’s need for critical care would be enough to convince her to be gentle with him.

  He turned to Gunny, who had been quiet the entire time he was on the phone, and said, “My friend, I keep asking you for favors and I have another.”

  “Sure.”

  “Can I keep the phone for a few days?”

  “Not a problem, but can I ask why, at least?”

  “Looks like I’m making a trip and it will come in handy.”

  “Another trip?”

  “I know, seems like I can’t stop moving, but it needs to be done.”

  Gunny leaned in and said, “Van Zandt, you gave us a home here by vouching for us. Whatever I can do for you I’ll do. Letting you use the phone is nothing. It’s yours.”

  “Thanks, buddy,” Gordon said, then exited the Humvee and made his way to Annaliese’s room, only to find her awake and seething in pain.

  He watched his brother try to comfort her. He knew the helpless feeling his brother must have been experiencing—he had been there before himself with Hunter. He cursed the world they were living in now. Not often did he think about why it all happened, but now he did. Watching a loved one in pain caused him to ruminate on the type of person who could have inflicted such inhumanity. What could have motivated someone to commit the mass murder of so many people and set the human race on a course of apocalypse? Only six months before, this type of scene wouldn’t have been playing out. Annaliese would be sitting in a fully functioning hospital with access to the care she now needed so desperately.