His Name Was Zach | Book 3 | Their Names Were Many

by Martuneac, Peter

  Then he pictured himself answering some reporter’s stupid questions, hearing grievances, or signing bills. He imagined himself in a suit and tie, forced to do things according to rules and regulations, bound to the whims of the witless masses. Stupid ribbon cutting ceremonies and meeting groups of snotty kids on a field trip to city hall. What the hell kind of a life is that?

  “I just can’t, lass. I’m sorry,” he said.

  Abby closed her eyes and blew out a sigh of frustration. “Whatever,” she said. She turned and walked away.

  ***

  Hiamovi also released a sigh as Abby returned to their ranks, though this was one of relief. He’d been terrified watching Abby argue with that Edmund character, expecting at every moment for him to lash out with that baseball bat. He’d kept his rifle up as high as he could without looking hostile, pointed in their direction, and left the safety off.

  Despite his terror, or perhaps hand-in-hand with it, he felt immeasurable pride for Abby as he watched the scene unfold. He and his friends were some of the most badass operators on the planet, his grandfather was the President of the United States, and all of them were afraid of Edmund. But not Abby. She alone showed no fear while dealing with Edmund, even as he brandished a deadly weapon. She jumped into the negotiating process, even stepping on the President’s toes a little bit the instant she saw it breaking down and nearly salvaged the situation.

  So many powerful men stood in this tiny parking lot, but that one amazing woman showed them all up.

  “God, I love her,” Hiamovi whispered to himself.

  Abby returned to Heammawihio’s side and appeared to have a hushed conversation with him. After half a minute, Heammawihio nodded his head and turned to face Edmund.

  “You have until dawn to change your mind, Edmund,” he said. “After that, I hand this situation to my generals.”

  “Oh, aye. Tell ‘em to hit me with their best fuckin’ shot,” Edmund replied, pointing his bat at Heammawihio. “I’ve got enough food and bullets to hold this city for weeks. Fuckin’ bring it.” He whistled loudly, gestured for his men to follow him, and walked away.

  Without a word, Abby, Heammawihio, and the others returned to the idling vehicles and clambered into the steel beasts.

  “That went better than I expected,” Jax said as he slammed his door shut.

  “And what was it you expected?” Miguel asked.

  “A fucking massacre. Leaving here alive is about as well as it could have gone. Wouldn’t you agree, Abby?”

  Abby didn’t respond. She stared out of the bullet-proof glass window in her door with a dour expression.

  “Abby?” Jax repeated, turning around in his seat.

  “Hm? What?”

  “I said…ah, never mind. Miguel, take us home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  By the time Abby and the others returned from their failed negotiations, a makeshift camp had sprung up around that National Guard armory. Rows of tiny, two-person tents zig-zagged wherever room could be found, including larger tents that functioned as chow halls or armories, and a huge command center. This last and largest tent is where Heammawihio went after thanking Jax and the others for their protection.

  The Raiders also found tents erected for them, and their gear lined up in front of these. Jax stripped off his plate carrier and said, “You boys go get some chow, I’ll stay with the gear. The first one of you that’s done eating can come relieve me.”

  The usual, grunted responses came as the men dropped their own plate carriers and began to meander towards one of the chow halls. Not Abby, though. She sat on her ruck, still wearing her body armor and holding her rifle in both hands, the barrel pointed up.

  “You coming?” Hiamovi asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll catch up,” she replied.

  Hiamovi leaned down to kiss Abby then jogged to catch up to the rest of the guys.

  “Pretty sure I told all of you to go get chow,” Jax said as he opened up his pack and looked through his gear.

  “Technically speaking, you only told the boys to do that,” Abby replied without looking up.

  “You know you’re one of my boys,” said Jax. “What’s going on, Abby? Let’s hear it.”

  “It’s nothing. You can go get chow if you want, and I’ll stay with the gear. I’m not hungry.”

  “No can do. Leaders eat last, remember? Now tell me what’s bothering you so we can both eat.”

  Abby sighed and shook her head. “That stubborn ass is gonna get people killed.”

  “That’s war for you,” Jax said with a shrug. “A bunch of stubborn assholes sending other men to kill each other on their leader’s behalf.”

  “And he’s just gonna get himself killed, too. Why wouldn’t he just listen to me? Is his own life really that meaningless to him?”

  “Based on my limited experience with the man, I’d say that seems likely. He’s unlike anyone else I’ve ever met.”

  “I just don’t understand.”

  “And that’s okay. When you’ve been in this line of work for as long as I have, you realize it’s not your job to understand. It’s your job to accomplish the mission and do what’s right, and that’s it.”

  Abby finally lifted her gaze from the ground. “Thanks, Jax. Guess I’ll go get something to eat now.”

  “Don’t mention it. And yeah, you better so I can go eat too. I’m fucking starving.”

  “How about I bring you back something?” Abby laughed.

  “Nah, that’s okay. Take care of yourself. Besides, I’m sure Mike will be back soon enough. He shovels food into his face so quick it’s like he thinks that he’s still in boot camp.”

  Abby pushed herself up and thrust her hands into her pockets before walking towards the chow hall. She caught up with the rest of her team there and picked up a meal of mac and cheese, broccoli, and a hamburger patty with no bun. As with their MRE’s, she wasn’t sure just how real any of this food actually was but preferred not to know.

  They sat together on the grass outside the tent and ate their food with little conversation. As Jax predicted, Mike finished quickly and left so that Jax could get food before it was all gone. Abby and Hiamovi finished shortly after him and they too made their way to their packs.

  On the walk back, they passed by the command center again, and Abby found herself staring at the large tent. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you,” she said to Hiamovi as she broke away.

  “Again?” asked Hiamovi.

  “Again,” Abby replied. She smiled and added, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know.”

  Hiamovi returned the smile and waved her off before continuing back towards their tents. Abby meanwhile turned straight towards the command center. Walking like she owned the place, she nearly made it through the flaps of the entrance unopposed.

  “Whoa, hold up,” a man about Abby’s age said. He stepped between her and the tent flap, held up his hand, and said, “Authorized personnel only.”

  “It’s cool, I know the President,” Abby replied.

  “That’s a good one. You’re still not authorized to enter.”

  Abby sighed and set her hands on her hips. “Hey Hector!” she called out, using the name Heammawihio went by during the war. “Can I come in?”

  A moment later, the President’s face appeared in the entrance of the tent. “Abby? Yes, of course.”

  Abby flashed a sweet but sassy grin at the guard, but he just shrugged and stepped aside to allow Abby to pass. She strode into the tent to find several men with stars or eagles on their collars either standing around a table full of maps or talking on radios.

  “Do you need something, dear?” Heammawihio asked.

  “Kind of, yeah,” Abby replied, nervously scratching the back of her head. “Um, I wanted to know what the plan is for taking Chicago.”

  Heammawihio smiled. “Don’t you think that’s on a need-to-know basis?”

  “Well, folks ‘round here seem to think I’m kind of important, or at leas
t used to be.”

  “Fair enough,” Heammawihio replied. “We’re planning an assault on the city in the morning. I’ve asked General Sloan to keep collateral damage to a minimum, so we’ll see what we can do.”

  “Is it expected to be bad?”

  “You always expect battles to go poorly. There will be casualties on our side, unfortunately. But we don’t have any other choice. We can’t let that lunatic hold an entire city hostage.”

  “Well, what if we hold them hostage?”

  Heammawihio frowned. “What are you saying?”

  “Edmund told me they have farms outside the city. What if we cut off their food supply? Starve them out?”

  “That could take weeks. You heard him yourself, he’s got plenty of food stockpiled already. A delay of that length could allow him to summon help from these people he’s trading with. It could embolden the Cubans to prepare for a lengthy siege.”

  “Can it be tried, at least?”

  “No.”

  Abby was taken aback by the bluntness of Heammawihio’s response, and a look of betrayal flashed across her face for just half a moment.

  “I’m sorry,” Heammawihio continued. “I do not mean to be so inflexible, but in this situation I must be. I greatly respect and admire you for your commitment to nonviolence. I heard the story of how you refused to let your friends kill that murderous preacher once you subdued him. But this isn’t the time to cling to principles, no matter how noble.”

  “It’s always the time to cling to principle,” Abby fired back. “Otherwise what’s the point of having them?”

  “The point here is ‘victory’, I’m afraid. I gave that man the chance to surrender, and he refused.”

  “This is how you want your victory? I thought we were saving the American people, not gunning them down.”

  Heammawihio released an exasperated sigh. “Abby, please. You know that I wanted a peaceful end to this as much as anyone. We tried peace, but Edmund has made that impossible. I’m sorry.”

  He turned to leave then, but Abby grabbed his arm.

  “What if I can destroy his stockpiles?”

  “What?”

  “Give me some C4, and I’ll sneak back into Chicago. I know where he keeps his food, and I’ll blow it all to Kingdom Come. No stockpile, no lengthy siege. They’ll surrender for sure, then.”

  “I cannot allow that.”

  “Didn’t stop me and Hiamovi from taking part in that ambush back in the day, did it? Let me go and help me by giving me some C4, or watch as I go anyway.”

  Heammawihio shut his eyes to think. A moment later, he opened them and said, “If I can’t stop you then I give you my permission on one condition: leave Hiamovi out of this. That Edmund seems to like you, and if you got caught doing this I think he would spare your life. I doubt he would show such kindness to my grandson.”

  “I will. I’ll go alone.”

  Heammawihio poked his head outside of the tent again and called out, “Lance Corporal, get in here.”

  A young man in Marine Corps camouflage utilities practically threw himself through the flaps of the tent then stood in front of Heammawihio in the position of ‘order arms’, the same as the position of attention except with a rifle in the right hand, held straight along the leg and the buttstock resting on the ground.

  “Yes sir?” the young man said.

  “Lead Abby to the armory, and see that she is issued whatever she needs on my authority.”

  “Aye-aye, sir!” the Lance Corporal said with an impressive amount of military gusto.

  Heammawihio leaned towards Abby and whispered in her ear, “We attack at sunrise. Return before then.”

  “I will,” Abby replied. She leaned into Heammawihio and hugged him, and he returned the gesture. As they pulled away from each other, Heammawihio laid a hand on Abby’s shoulder and looked her in the eyes, holding her gaze for an extra moment or two, and then turned back to his generals.

  The young Marine behind Abby held the tent flap open for her, and she exited the tent. He then guided her towards the nearest armory.

  “So you must be pretty important, huh? What’s your deal?” the Marine asked as they walked.

  Abby shrugged and said, “I’m just a girl with a mission to complete.”

  “But getting the president’s blessing like that? There’s gotta be some kind of story to you.”

  “I helped the ReFounding Fathers back in the day, and I got to know Heammawihio that way.”

  The young man turned towards Abby with a wide-eyed look. “Wait a minute. Are you Abby? The spy?”

  “I guess I am.”

  “Wow,” the young man whispered to himself.

  Silence reigned for the remainder of their walk, for which Abby was grateful. Her celebrity status still made her uncomfortable, and she hoped one day she could leave that behind her.

  They reached the armory after just a minute, and again the young man held the tent flap open for Abby and followed her inside.

  “What do you want?” asked a soldier inside the tent without looking up. He was sitting on an ammo crate and counting a pile of night-vision goggles in front of him.

  “The president says to give her whatever she wants,” the Marine with Abby responded, jabbing a thumb towards her as he spoke. “She’s going on a mission.”

  “Her?” the soldier responded. He turned and looked at Abby doubtfully, and said, “What the hell kind of mission could she possibly be on?”

  Abby huffed. “Should I go get Heammawihio and drag him down here? Do you want to explain to your platoon sergeant why the president himself had to waste precious time to deal with you?” she asked.

  The soldier sighed. “What do you need?”

  “C4, all the goods to go with it, and a pack to carry it.”

  “Good,” the soldier replied. He stood up and sauntered towards one corner of the tent. “If there’s one thing no one’s withdrawing right now, it’s C4. How much you need?”

  “Just fill a pack with it.”

  The soldier did as he was instructed, made some notes in his log book, then asked Abby to sign a form to certify that she had been issued equipment from that armory. She signed it and handed it back to the soldier. He did a double-take when he saw the name Abby had scrawled on the paper.

  “Anything else you need, ma’am?” the soldier asked as he turned back to Abby, speaking a tad more respectfully now.

  She could see in his eyes that he recognized her name, but was either too shy or too professional to say anything about it. “No thanks, I’m good.”

  “Make sure you return anything you don’t use, please,” the soldier said. “And good luck.”

  “Thanks, you too,” Abby replied as she hoisted the heavy pack onto her shoulders. She realized then that ‘you too’ didn’t make much sense in that situation, so added, “Well, you know what I mean.”

  She left the tent with the Marine who’d guided her there, and she thanked him for showing her the way.

  “Just following orders,” the young man replied. He licked his lips after a pause, and then said, “And hey, if you’re not doing anything after whatever it is you plan on doing with all that…”

  “Are you really asking me out right before I go to almost certain death?”

  “What if I am?”

  “Not to be rude, but let me save you some time. I’m married,” Abby said, smiling apologetically.

  “Bet he’s not a Marine, though,” the man replied with a cocky grin.

  “He’s actually a Raider.”

  “Oh.”

  Abby turned to the side and waved. “And he’s headed this way.”

  “Oh!”

  Hiamovi smiled and asked, “Am I interrupting anything?”

  “No, the lance corporal here was just leaving,” Abby replied.

  “Yes…yes ma’am,” the young man said. He quickly headed back to his post then, after giving Hiamovi a weak, “Good afternoon, sergeant.”

  “What’s wi
th the pack?” Hiamovi asked once he and Abby were alone.

  Abby chewed on her lower lip before answering. “Well, it’s for a little mission I’m going on.”

  “A mission?”

  “Yeah. I’m gonna head back into Chicago and blow up their food stockpiles. I figure if I can do that, they’ll reconsider your grandad’s offer of surrender.”

  “Are you serious? Why? Why would you do this?”

  Abby shrugged. “I don’t want a battle. People who shouldn’t have to die…will die. I have to stop it.”

  “You tried though. We all tried, but that guy wanted nothing to do with it. This blood will be on his hands, not yours.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Abby sighed. “Edmund is insane, and he was probably high as a kite when we talked to him. He just needs a little extra convincing.”

  “Okay, and what if he catches you? What then?” Hiamovi asked, setting his hands on his hips.

  “Good, I hope he does,” Abby replied. “It’ll give me another chance to talk to him, to convince him to just stand down.”

  “Abby. You already tried that,” Hiamovi said, placing a harsher emphasis on each word as his frustration grew. “It didn’t work. Look, I know you’re trying to avoid bloodshed, but you’re taking this too far!”

  “How is the bare minimum too far? He refused because he was surrounded by us and his own men. He had an image to maintain, and he’s too proud for his own good. If I can get him alone, I bet I can get him to surrender, to not throw his life away like this.”

  Hiamovi ran a hand through his dark hair before speaking again. “Why do you even care about him?”

  “I don’t.”

  “You just said you didn’t want him to throw his life away like this. Him, specifically. Is this why you’re going back? Are you just trying to save him?”

  “No! Of course not,” Abby objected, giving Hiamovi an offended look.

  “The other day you told me he tricked you into liking him,” said Hiamovi.

  Abby shook her head. “No, I said it felt like I liked him, and that I didn’t hate him as much as I probably should. Believe me, his life is no more important to me than anyone else’s.”