The DHS suit, his face still a foot from the colonel, his eyes now filled with a mixture of impatience and disdain spoke. “Miss Frost, if the colonel doesn’t give me an answer to my question within the next ten seconds, please put a bullet in his brain and find me the second in command.”
Estes watched as the redhead used her right hand to slowly withdraw a stainless steel pistol from underneath her vest. Her left hand deftly darted into a pocket on the same side and pulled out a small silver cylindrical shape. In full view of the colonel and hallway audience she began to thread the cylinder onto the end of the stainless steel barrel.
Colonel Jordan snapped his mouth shut and came to full salute, practically yelling out, “NO SIR, I UNDERSTAND WHO’S IN CHARGE.”
“Very well then colonel, have all of your senior staff, as well as all squad leaders in your office in five minutes.”
“YES SIR,” the colonel replied, briskly snapping another salute and then turning to issue orders. In the space of a few heartbeats the five member guard platoon was sprinting toward different parts of the school.
The major from the medical detachment broke the stillness of the now half deserted hallway by raising his hand and accompanying it with, “Sir . . . excuse me, may ask you a question, sir?”
“What is it major?” the suit replied.
“Well, with all due respect we’re having problems getting some straight answers out of the CDC and USAMRIID, at least, and again I mean this with all due respect . . .”
“Spit it out major, my time is valuable,” the suit said.
“Yes sir. What I mean to say is that ever since . . . the Department of Homeland Security took over as sole liaison between deployed field units and the research and intel labs, we’ve basically been flying in the dark. We haven’t even been able to get through to them in the last thirty-six hours. There’s absolutely no way we can continue to follow the medical quarantine and testing protocols without more staff, and a whole lot more supplies. The last shipment that came in by helicopter was filled with ninety-two pounds of tongue depressors and four hundred and seventy pounds of feminine hygiene products. No antibiotics, no antivirals, no test kits, protective equipment, reagents . . . nothing useful at all. So I’m just wondering if you could maybe shed some light on the situation . . . or maybe even pull a few strings.”
Lieutenant Estes watched the grey haired, hard eyed DHS . . . Commander? . . . Admiral? . . . General? . . . Estes wasn’t sure what rank protocol was in that organization, but however it worked, the man standing in front of him next to the Amazon was obviously very highly placed in the hierarchy. He appeared to be considering the major’s words. A solid thirty seconds passed in uncomfortable silence before he replied.
“Major, I feel your pain. Things are going ape shit all over. Now I will try to address your concerns, but I’m going to wait until everybody’s here so I don’t have to repeat myself.”
The major nodded his head quickly, saluted, and replied, “Yes sir.”
Thirty more seconds of stillness passed as Colonel Jordan, Lieutenant Estes, and the medical major stood at attention. Finally the distant sounds of approaching footsteps began to filter through the silence.
Estes watched as the suit gazed up at a large analog clock mounted near the juncture of the wall and ceiling. The clock was surrounded by a tamper resistant wire enclosure that gave testament to its value by displaying several dents, probably caused by hurled algebra textbooks. The clear acrylic protecting the clock workings and numbers was still intact.
“Are we going to stand in the hallway all day, colonel?” the suit asked; once again his tone was neutral and unreadable.
Colonel Jordan seemed to snap out of a trance and said, “No sir, right this way sir.” He held open the door to his converted operations center and waited there as the Amazon advanced past him, disappearing into the room for several seconds before returning to the hallway long enough to give a quick nod of “all clear” to her boss. The suit returned her nod and walked into the room.
Several minutes later a small gathering of about a dozen additional soldiers and medical personnel were seated in the smallish desk-chair combinations, their attention focused on the steel-eyed man in the handsome blue suit at the front of the room.
“Gentlemen . . . and lady.” The man gave a slight incline of his head toward the only other female in the room besides his stunning companion. The lady in question was a fifty-something, prematurely gray member of the medical team whose shape told of repeated trips to various all you can eat buffets throughout the years. She was also the last to arrive, puffing and wheezing while practically being dragged through the doorway by one of the soldiers. Estes had been posted in the front corner of the room. The beautiful bodyguard, Miss Frost if he heard her name correctly, had specifically placed him there. From his position he could look into the eyes of anybody in the audience, and if the strawberry blond-haired assassin stayed where she was, he had a perfect peripheral view of her ass.
The suit continued, “I’m not going to waste your time or mine. I’m here for three reasons. The first two I’ll go over with everybody; the third,” he inclined his head towards the colonel, “is for Colonel Jordan only.
“Item number one. How would you like to have a dozen Apaches up here at the school?”
There was an immediate murmur of approval from the assembly. Heads swiveled towards each other and nodded the affirmative in anticipation of twelve attack helicopters being added to their arsenal.
Estes watched the back of the suit’s head turn as he scanned the room slowly, watching their responses to his offer of a massive amount of firepower. Steel-eyes took several crisp steps toward the front center of the room. SLAM!! The seated crowd performed levitation of various heights as the man slapped his hand hard on the middle desk in the front row. “Because the next time somebody . . . ANYBODY . . . from this unit fires upon, or gives the order to fire upon . . .” Estes saw the man snap his head toward Colonel Jordan briefly before continuing, “any United States military personnel, or any civilian without just cause, I will personally make the call that sends a dozen Apaches up here. And make no mistake, they will be running hot and carrying a full combat load, and their orders will be to turn this entire school into a smoking pile of rubble and ashes with every one of you heartless son-of-a-bitches inside.”
Estes watched the assembly stare open mouthed at the suit, then each other, and then the colonel who was so pale and quivering Estes would have put even money on whether he’d just drop over or stroke out right there in his chair. The suit continued.
“Do you think we’re blind?” The man held up his left index finger and kept it pointing straight at the ceiling for a few seconds before speaking again. “We are facing a . . . difficult . . . and fluid situation. Globally. Things are not well. But we are not helpless, and we’re damn sure not going to tolerate the type of behavior that went on here the other day. These are your own countrymen for God’s sake. Servicemen and women who have taken the same oath that you did. They are civilians turning to you for protection. Moms, dads, Aunt Sue’s and Uncle Bob’s. They are you. And you will protect them. Do I make myself clear?”
With vigorous head shaking and jumbled “Yes sir’s” the seated crowd quickly agreed. Apparently not quick enough though. “Do I make myself crystal clear?” the man slowly and clearly hissed through clenched teeth. This time the response was direct and enthusiastic.
“YES SIR!”
“Good. Now, I am not talking about putting yourselves at undue risk. You will follow safety precautions to the best of your ability. You will treat any of the infected, the proven infected, as per your previous orders. There will be times where you have to make judgment calls, we understand this. But your primary duty is still the safety and security of this country . . . and . . . its people. Clear?”
“YES SIR!”
“Don’t forget, we’ll be watching.” Once again he pointed upwards with his finger.
&nb
sp; “Item number two, supply and demand. I do not have good news for you. This situation has frazzled up the works across the board. There will be relief, but I cannot say when or how much. Do the best with what you have now, make it last as long as you can. Improvise. Find new uses for things you have in abundance, and ration critical supplies to the best of your ability. I cannot say how long you’ll be here. Orders are being issued hourly for strategic repositioning and unit reinforcement. As I’m sure your medical team is aware, the speed that this is moving caught everybody looking. Don’t waste valuable time wishing for what you don’t have. And keep yourselves . . . and those you’re responsible for . . . safe.” The man looked slowly around the room, meeting the eyes of everybody in the audience before barking, “Dismissed.”
Silently the crowd walked out. Estes noted that the major from the medical unit hesitated several times, like he really wanted to ask something, but thought better of it. Colonel Jordan was the last in line to exit. Somewhere between two and three millimeters before the colonel’s nose broke the plane of the doorway to safety, the DHS suit snapped, “Not you, Colonel.”
Estes waited in his corner as the Amazon slid between several desks on her way to the door. Watching her ass should be an Olympic sport, he thought. He’d definitely go for the gold. She inserted herself between the colonel and the exit, nudging him aside to do so, then looked out the hallway checking for . . . something. Apparently satisfied, she pulled the door shut behind her, locked eyes with Colonel Jordan, and motioned for him to take a seat. He did so, although Estes noted a nervous tic had set up semi-permanent residence below the colonel’s right eye.
The Amazon looked at her watch, tapping it briefly while meeting the eyes of her charge. The suit nodded at the unspoken query, took a deep breath and then walked around and stood directly behind the seated colonel. Estes watched Colonel Jordan’s eyes flare wide open, saw his neck begin to tremble with fear of what he was sure was headed his way. Without changing position, the man with steel eyes pulled a miniature notebook from his pocket, removed a small golf-sized pencil from between the spiral binding and jotted down a brief note. He then addressed Estes.
“Lieutenant Estes, I assume you know where the medical facility is located at in the school, correct?”
“YES SIR!” Estes snapped.
Tearing off the top sheet of paper, the suit extended his left arm toward Estes. “Go there and bring me back one of these, double time it soldier.”
Estes advanced and took the note, his eyebrows reaching for the sky when he saw what was printed in concise handwriting on the small, lined sheet. It read “Body bag.”
Chapter 28
April 24th, Eric part 5
It took us until almost 1:00 PM to find the old logging road. The point where we came out was maybe one half mile south of where I went in at. It was also several miles north of the Gator. Of course, after fighting our way through miles of thick brush, walking down a logging road seemed like paradise to us. A little after 2:00 PM we made it to the avalanche of trees that had stopped the Gator in the first place. Ducking and weaving through the tangle took another few minutes, and my back and shoulders were certainly glad to catch a glimpse of the green utility vehicle parked on the other side. I had hung a small bag of provisions near the Gator, and I retrieved that as Emily loaded her pack and camera into the cargo bed. After I un-shouldered my Osprey pack, I dug into the small provision bag for two important items. The first was a one gallon zip lock bag stuffed full of dry dog food, the second was a quart size zip lock bag with several candy bars, tea bags, and the all important hot chocolate inside.
“Anything I can help you with?” Emily asked.
I nodded and said, “If you don’t mind, get my little stove out of my backpack, fill the large cup with water from the reservoir in the back section, and put it on to boil.”
“Where do you want me to put it . . . someplace level I’d guess . . . correct?”
“Yeah, anyplace basically flat and even will work,” I replied.
“So, what now . . . what’s the plan?” Emily asked after she finished setting the water to boil.
“Well,” I answered, “once that water gets hot enough I’m going to mix it with Max’s food to get a good hot meal in him. And then I’m thinking about making a big mug of hot chocolate, which if you’re lucky I might share with you.” I watched Emily arch her eyebrows, speculating on whether I was jerking her chain or not.
I continued, “I imagine I could be persuaded to give you a few sips of my special recipe, double thick, wonder of the wilderness hot chocolate . . . in exchange for . . .” I let my sentence trail off, replacing it with an ear to ear smile.
“In exchange for what?” Emily’s emphasis was on “what,” but her mischievous smile betrayed any anger or apprehension.
I started laughing, shaking my head and rubbing my eyes. “I wish we had time for that . . . but what I was talking about was actually a five minute shoulder massage. Especially since I carried your camera equipment most of the way.”
“You, sir, have a deal . . . provided you agree to my disclaimers,” Emily said.
“Which are?”
“First off, I’m getting more than a few sips of this miraculous wilderness beverage you’re going to concoct. Secondly, we’re going to trade shoulder massages, remember I carried a pack also. And third, since we’re riding back, I’m going to get my camera out and take some pictures along the way, of which you may be in some of them. Deal?”
I nodded my head and replied, “Deal.”
About ten minutes later Max had finished his dog food, Emily was slurping up the last of the hot chocolate and I was licking the remains of my second Snickers bar off of my lips. The sun was shining and a light breeze was blowing out of the southeast, but the hole in my stomach remained. It wasn’t hunger, it was that same feeling I had back at the clearing. Danger. I looked down at Max. He was sprawled on his tummy in a patch of short grass bathed in sunlight, and it didn’t look like he was acting nervous, but something was making me edgy. I just couldn’t place it.
Shaking my head to get rid of the gloom and doom thoughts, I walked over and sat down next to Max. His golden eyes stared into mine for a few seconds, then he rose and touched his forehead to my shoulder, giving me a slight reassuring nudge as if to say, “Come on buddy, we got this.” Either that or he was saying “Get off your ass, dad.” Whatever the case we spent a few minutes wrestling, darting and lunging at each other, breaking off sticks and playing tug of war, in essence just being guys. When I looked over at the Gator, Emily had her camera in hand and was firing away at us.
“You should see this,” Emily said with her head tilted down looking into the view screen of her camera, “there’s this one shot where it looks like the two of you merge into a single creature. I know it’s really just the perspective, but it’s still a really cool look.”
“Print me off one, I’ll put it on the wall of my house,” I said, purposely not adding in “if we still have electricity.”
“Do you have a house?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Tell me about it . . . what’s it like, where’s it at . . . everything.” Emily began focusing on me with her camera. I heard several faint clicks as her hand twisted the lens back and forth.
“That’s a story for another time maybe,” I replied. I didn’t mind telling her, but I was anxious to get moving.
“Well, will you at least pose for a picture . . . something like, oh I don’t know . . . maybe something that I’ll title ‘my wilderness rescuer.’ Something that I’ll be able to hang on the wall in my house. If I ever get one.”
I sighed, biting down the anxiety to hit the road and ask her, “What do you want me to do?”
Emily looked around for a few seconds before saying, “Climb up in the branches of the pile of fallen trees there. If I can stage it right, you’ll blend into the background, and anybody who looks at the picture will have to search for you. Kind of like
those optical illusions were you have to find the hidden picture within the picture.”
“With or without my backpack on?” I asked.
“Without,” Emily said as she was switching lenses.
Max went back to the patch of sunlight as I climbed and wormed my way through the thick tangle of fallen trees. It took about five minutes before I was perched in a location that was acceptable to Emily. My feet had broken through several rotten branches on the way, and I was precariously balancing halfway behind the worm-eaten remains of a large fir tree. Emily was sliding left and right across the logging road, snapping shots from different angles. She would alternate between crouching and standing, tilting the camera on its side for some of the shots and keeping it level for others. I was shifting around a bit to try and find a more stable location for my feet when I saw Max get up quickly. Emily was still firing away as Max began to growl towards the edge of the forest near the Gator. Three seconds later the growl increased to a snarl, followed by several warning barks. I looked down hurriedly to find a safe decent off of the fallen fir tree, shifting my hands for a better grip as I mentally kicked myself for getting into this situation.
“Eric . . . ERIC!” Emily was pointing and shouting.
I shifted my eyes up just in time to see a large black bear step onto the logging road. Max started darting back and forth, snarling and snapping his jaws as the bear ambled toward the Gator. I moved down another two feet, heading towards a solid length of aspen I had used on the way up. I risked another quick look out toward the logging road as I stepped onto the splintered remains of one of the old fir’s limbs. Emily was crouched near the logjam, clicking away at the scene that was unfolding at the Gator. Max was at ground zero with the bear, lunging at the beast’s hindquarters every time the bear moved closer to the utility vehicle where our backpacks and the smell of hot chocolate and dog food emanated from. The bear was getting seriously ticked off and took a couple swats at Max, who jumped aside before charging back in. I started yelling “Ha-Yaaa,” trying to shift some of the bear’s attention away from Max. That’s when the limb under my foot shattered and I plummeted like a meteor into the thick snag below me, slowing down only briefly when I smashed into the aspen log. I felt a sharp burn in my ankle as twigs and branches snapped and crashed around me, altering my trajectory before finally dumping me halfway out onto the logging road. The noise of my departure from the logjam caught the large bear’s attention and he stood on his back legs, sniffing the air briefly before Max charged him again, ripping off a mouthful of shaggy black fur before leaping sideways. The bear went down on all fours and stormed at Max, huffing and growling as he did. I was still halfway caught in some limbs and laying on my side, but I started yelling as loud as I could . . . “Haii-Yaaaaaa.” A few seconds later Emily joined in. Max took another chunk of fur off the ass of the bear, who apparently had enough and spun around, heading for the tree line with my buddy snapping at his heels.
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