She threw up her hands and cocked her head as she looked at him. “I hope Auburn is up for making me another pair.”
Kae stopped his father when they were breaking up. “I need you to take a look in the one bunker. I’m not sure what to make of it.”
“We’ll be right back,” Terry told Char. He and Kae took off running at enhanced speed. They covered the ground quickly, past the pods, and continued racing down the road. Kae signaled to take the right fork.
They slowed to a walk after the turn. When they reached the bunker, they went inside without hesitation. Terry opened two crates and looked at the labels.
“NBC gear. Nuclear, biological, and chemical. They also called it CBR—chem, bio, and radiological. Fifty years old? This stuff won’t protect anyone. Here’s a few crates of forty-millimeter tear gas rounds. These will disperse crowds, help us keep casualties to a minimum. I wish we would have had this stuff in New York City.” Terry looked at the labels, moving from crate to crate.
“Here are testing kits for chemical agents. Here’s one for biological agents. Not sure how well those worked. Here are some cutting edge detectors for radioactivity. These make the Geiger counter look like a child’s toy.” Terry continued, pushing nearly all of it aside. He marked all the crates that had the tear gas grenades and the radiological detectors as going. Everything else would be left behind.
“I’ll take care of it,” Kae said. They each carried two crates to the pod, before Terry left Kaeden to it.
Char and Cory were standing near the sailboat, talking animatedly. Terry joined them, but couldn’t figure out what they were discussing. So he asked.
“My wedding, of course!” Cory said happily.
Terry’s head started to swim.
“You better not miss it!” she said, putting her hand on her father’s chest as she often did when emphasizing something.
“I’m being punished,” he said, looking at Charumati. Her eyes sparkled purple in the daylight. The backdrop of a tropical paradise suited her.
The women in his life both stared him down.
“I like the bikini you bought for your mother,” Terry said with a smile.
“Of course you do,” Cory said softly, shaking her head. “I hope that in fifty years, Ramses and I are still as much in love as you are.”
Terry conceded in the family battle to divert attention from the topic at hand.
“We’ll be there, no matter where, when, or what’s going on, unless I send Ramses on a solo mission to Antarctica, which could happen, you know!”
Cory reached around her father and hugged him tightly. “I love you, Dad.”
Char smiled like the proud mother she was. Cory held her mother’s hand briefly before jogging to catch up to Ramses and his squad.
“I guess there’s nothing left but the dance,” Terry said.
CHAPTER TWENTY
North Chicago
The pods landed side by side. Felicity, Auburn, Mary Ellen, William, Mayra, and Mark were there, along with the remainder of the FDG.
The ramps dropped and the squads worked their way out, setting up a human chain to unload the tightly packed crates and boxes. Ted walked off and turned toward the power plant, but Felicity was having none of that. She passed William to Auburn and hurried to cut Ted off.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Felicity drawled.
“The power plant,” Ted said, confused at Felicity’s failure to grasp his obvious destination. She grabbed his hand and joined him as he walked. He looked at their hands and then to the way ahead, not saying anything.
The others watched as Ted and Felicity disappeared along the path that had been worn over the years between the base and the plant. Marcie saw them go and shook her head. “Mother.”
The team leaders each dug in to carry their fair share, with the other members of the FDG joining in. Lacy showed up, exercising her position not to work as a beast of burden. She was over fifty years old and not as spry as she used to be.
“Looks like weapons and ammo,” she said to Kimber.
“There’s a lot more where that came from, Gunny,” Kim replied. “And we’re supposed to collect it all and bring it back here. I’m thinking two trips a day to get it. One in the morning and one in the afternoon, until we have everything. One squad per to maximize cargo space.”
“Sounds like you have it well in hand. Carry on, Sergeant. I’d like to go on one of the trips to get a look-see. I’ve never seen the Caribbean.”
“Consider it done, Guns. I know you’re an early riser so catch the first flight out tomorrow.”
Lacy nodded and gave the thumbs up, surprised to see Ted and Felicity reappear from the walking path.
Marcie hurried to her mother. “What’d you do?” she insisted of Ted.
“I forgot that I need to recharge the pod engines because you’re going to abuse them to collect the contents of those bunkers. Why did you think I did something?” Ted said accusingly.
“I’m putting you on notice that if you hurt my mother, you’ll have me to deal with and all of them, too!” Marcie declared, jaw clenched and chin thrust out.
The squad was carrying boxes and crates inside, leaving no one where Marcie had pointed. Ted leaned around her to be sure. She turned and saw that she’d pointed to an empty field. “You know what I mean.”
Ted held his hands up. No, he really didn’t know what she meant.
Felicity wrapped her arms around Ted’s neck and pulled herself up to plant a kiss on his cheek. Marcie wasn’t sure, but she thought he leaned into it and smiled, if only briefly.
“I’ll be damned.” Marcie picked up a stack of crates, heavier than what anyone from her squad could carry, and headed toward the barracks.
Sailing the Caribbean
Terry held course for Kingston Town. He wanted to see for himself what a modern industrialized city looked like. He also wanted to pave the way for Sue and Timmons. They had the barter and trade leverage, whereas Terry and Char had winning smiles.
They also had fish to trade because the crew loved to reel them in. And the fish finder gave the Heywood an edge over any lesser-equipped fishing boat.
The harbor was busy and Terry had to dodge wakes and propeller-driven container ships. There was an oil tanker in port.
“Did the world move on and leave us behind?” Terry wondered. It was hot, really hot, but the breeze and island green called to them.
“We’re scrounging in the dust of the Wasteland while they’re down here living the life of Reilly. Was North Chicago the right choice? If we would have gone west, we’d have had San Fran and a veritable paradise,” Char lamented, watching over the rail as Terry continued to guide the boat.
“Paradise? I think we built our own paradise. We have little. We’re cut off from the outside world, mostly. What we have the most of are family and friends, good people who are happy. I like the world we created,” Terry said conversationally.
“I like the family we built,” Char replied, turning to look at her husband. “We kept each other safe, until they came for you.”
“We had time to build the Force. Could we have done that living in San Fran?” Terry wondered, before shaking his head. “I doubt it. We made the best decisions we could with the information we had. No regrets, Char. Look at the world in front of us. Is it our egos that wishes we had a hand in shaping these incredible communities? Look at North Chicago! We had a higher hill to climb, but we’re getting there.”
“Ego. Envy. I’m from New York City, TH, and I love to shop. It’s been over fifty years, but that taste of it in San Francisco, with my daughter? I want more of that, because I love it.”
Terry swallowed heavily. His hatred of shopping wrestled with his love for the Werewolf Charumati and desire to do what it took to give her what she wanted. When he looked up from the ship’s wheel, he found her staring at him.
“Let me guess. You’re a typical man. Your idea of shopping is going straight to the item you want,
grabbing it, and leaving by the most expeditious means possible.”
Terry didn’t understand why her words upset him. He didn’t answer. He lifted one arm and flexed, expanding and tightening his chest and abs.
“Typical? In that way, I guess,” he conceded, before relaxing and setting a course to a series of berths where smaller boats were tied up. There were no signs detailing where visitors should go.
Terry squinted against the sun to find the harbormaster’s hut. Once he spotted it between the big ships and smaller docks, he took the boat in that direction, tacking gently to minimize the zigzags through Kingston’s large harbor.
“Anything for you, Char. I’ll take you shopping wherever we may find it. I’ll carry your bags for you and will try really hard not to whine the whole time.”
“Fine. I’ll take Cory.” She smirked.
“Thank God!” Terry replied with a sigh.
Trimming the sails and slowing the boat, they brought Heywood to the dock. Archie jumped out and pulled hard on the line to bring the boat in tightly. He wrapped it quickly around a cleat and held out his hands as Char threw him the aft line. He caught the end as the boat was swinging away. He dug in and stopped the motion, then slowly pulled it back. Once tied up, Terry, Char, and the crew met pier-side.
“If you guys could talk with the other sailors in the area, learn the ins and outs of Kingston Town, we’ll be better off negotiating. At least one person stays with the boat at all times. You heard that other people that came into town were stolen from. We don’t need any thieves riffling our boat.”
Char looked at the pistols she wore and was torn about taking them off. She shook her head and returned to the captain’s cabin. Terry had already moved his pistol under his shirt. He buttoned it up to hide that he was packing. He moved his silvered blade in its sheath to his front pocket.
When Char returned, she had one of Terry’s shirts tied around her waist like a sash. The pistol bulges were obvious, but she’d removed her shirt and was only wearing her bikini top. She turned from side to side.
“Think they’ll notice my bulges?” she asked.
Terry laughed. The crew didn’t speak. They saw her as a dichotomy. A phenomenally beautiful woman, deadly as a scorpion, and the yin to Terry’s yang. She was untouchable.
“I suspect they will,” Terry replied before waving for Char to lead the way. “Who’s staying?”
Louis raised his hand. Terry gave him the thumbs up and followed Char down the dock with Jose and Archie close behind.
A rough looking man exited the hut and stood bodily before the door, blocking Terry and Char’s way. She smiled while tipping her head demurely.
“Good morning, kind sir. I was wondering where we may dock our sailboat and hopefully engage in some trade. We have a small stock of freshly caught grouper that needs to find a new home,” Char said.
“How would I know?” the man replied, before looking Char up and down, snorting and walking away.
“You funky-smelling douchebag,” Terry said once the man was gone. Char shrugged and went inside. Terry heard her start her routine again, but this time without the kind sirs.
When Terry opened the door, he found a cloud of incense and an old woman seated behind the counter. She had green eyes and dark, dark skin. Gray curly hair topped a heavily weathered face.
“Let me have a look at you, young man,” the old woman croaked in her Jamaican accent.
Terry stepped forward to stand beside Char, wrapping an arm instinctively around her waist.
“You make a sweet couple. What you want?” the old woman asked.
Terry repeated exactly what Char had said.
“I see where you be docked. Stay there, leave by nightfall. All is good. And you bring Missy Prince one of those groupers and we call it even.”
“How about some smoked pork instead?” Terry offered, as they’d all eaten their fill of the meat over the past week. It didn’t bother any of them to part with some of the large quantity that remained.
“Ooh. Been awhile, pretty man. Fill this bucket and bring it back. Then we have a deal.” She pointed with a gnarled finger at a bucket in the corner. Terry looked at it skeptically before picking it up, nodding, and leaving the small office.
He swished it in the water a few times to knock out the biggest chunks of dried fish and scales. When they returned to the boat, he used the galley and a small stock of white sand to scrub the bucket clean. He dried it and filled it to overflowing with smoked pork.
When they returned to the hut, they saw that smoke trailed from a small pipe jammed through the roof. The wind shifted and the incense wafted past them before they entered to find that the old woman hadn’t moved. She looked critically at the bucket, took a piece, and bit off a small part.
She chewed with her eyes closed. “This be fine eats, man. We have a deal,” she said without looking at them.
“Is there any security here?” Terry asked. Missy Prince opened her eyes and focused on Terry. Her look was penetrating.
“Maybe you don’t know our ways, but when Missy Prince say we have a deal, we have a deal. No one steal your shit, man. I run a respected business here.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you,” Terry apologized. “I always ask because we never know for sure. Thank you.”
“Keep your hand cannons hidden. They be in high demand here, and you be killed for those.” The old woman tipped her chin at both Terry and Char.
“Thank you for everything, Missy Prince,” Terry said, smiling as he held the door for Char.
“Ditch the hardware?” Char asked when they were outside.
“Not on your life,” he answered.
North Chicago
“Is this the best place for this stuff?” Kimber asked, knowing what the right answer was.
Lacy looked at the crates filling the barracks’ basement, lining the halls and stuffing every room that didn’t have Forsaken sleeping within.
“We need to build a bunker,” Lacy replied. “But it needs to be dry, so we’re building it above ground. Break out your shovels and axes, people. Maybe we can get Jumbo to help us out.”
The elephant known as Jumbo had come to North Chicago a long time ago. She had to carry her mahout on her trunk as he could no longer walk. The two had been together for longer than most married couples.
“I’ll ask my mom,” Ayashe told them.
“Would you like to be in charge of it, Corporal?” the gunnery sergeant asked.
Ayashe didn’t answer right away. Volunteering wasn’t necessarily a good thing. “I’m thinking of retiring and the colonel said that the FDG is going to continue growing. I can’t keep up with you young studs. The Force is something for the future generation to shape.”
The young woman looked at herself. She was slight of build and looked younger than she actually was. She’d proven herself in combat, and although limited, none of the recruits and many of the privates had no combat action.
“I’ll do it, Gunny, but not because I want to suck up. I want to earn the rank of sergeant,” she stated proudly.
“Do you think anyone who wears the rank hasn’t earned it?” Lacy asked pointedly.
Ayashe knew that wasn’t the case. She always suspected that she had gotten promoted because she’d gone undercover with the colonel and because of who her parents were. This wasn’t about anyone else.
“None that I’ve ever known have.”
“Trust me when I say that you won’t be the first one, either. As long as Colonel Walton is in charge, people will earn their ranks and keep earning them with each new day. Did you know that I was fired as squad leader three times?”
Ayashe shook her head.
“That was a record back in those days. Captain Mark was busted three times in one day!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Kingston Town
Char strolled down the middle of the street, her purple eyes sparkling as she looked back and forth. The crowd seemed to par
t for her. Terry walked behind, carrying twine-wrapped packages and bags.
He kicked at two boys who appeared underneath his bags and became too adventurous with their hands. “A life of crime doesn’t suit you!” he said in his dad voice.
Terry couldn’t take his eyes from Charumati. She walked elegantly, like a queen who was adored by her subjects. No one came too close to her. She held them off with a look or an outstretched hand as she continued on her way.
She was in her element. How much did he not know about the love of his life?
When Char reached the end of the street and the shops had dwindled away, she turned around. “Home to the boat, TH. Sweet bread for the crew?” she asked with a smile.
“Do we need a stoned crew?” Terry replied, positive that they did not.
“We’ll get the bread without the secret ingredient.” Char sped up as she headed for the drifting smells of the food vendors. She looked them over, studied the patrons, and then went to a stand with no customers.
“What is your best dish, and no ganja, please?” Char asked the young man behind the counter.
“Purple eyes!” the man exclaimed without answering Char’s questions.
Terry shook his head. Char’s mystique was universal. “We’re hungry, man!” Terry said loudly. “Why would we spend money here if you can’t feed us?”
The man did a double-take, realizing the opportunity and what could work in his favor. “Sample platter, man. You try it all. You like something, you get it for free if she tells the people out there how good it is?”
Terry nodded slowly. “I love entrepreneurs. Bring on the sampler pack!”
Terry and Char sat against a small fence, so they could see the mass of people working their way back and forth through the area. The man hurried out with a tray that he put on the table in front of Terry and Char, waiting expectantly for them to dig in.
Nomad Omnibus 03: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus) Page 42