Nuclear Spring

by Td Barnes

  Bradley joined others in looking around for some relief. All of them knew that all their excavation equipment was inside the mountain to keep it out of sight. He looked at the large air vent of the mountain. It was now just a passive piece of pipe protruding from the mountain and no longer discharging the air sucked in for ventilation.

  They could do nothing outside the mountain. Their only hope to rescue anyone was to return the three miles to the north portal and back through the five miles of tunnel to the south entrance, where they were now with only a few feet of rock between them and the casualties.

  By now, many realized it now being a mission of recovery. No one knew the number trapped or their condition.

  Sammie and Bradley gripped hands as they hurried back the way they come. He saw some of the people looking to their left. Following their gaze, Sammie and he saw Stratton’s convoy drive up to the north portal where someone ran into the mountain and returned later with a stretcher.

  “Someone is hurt,” Sammie observed while the soldiers loaded someone on the stretcher and everyone following it into the mountain.

  Exhausted and panting for air, she and her father rushed into the north portal along with all the others returning from the south portal. This was when Bradley noticed the prisoner sitting on the floor of the tunnel behind the security desk. He stopped.

  One of the guards said, “Sergeant Stratton is shot, sir, and they took Sergeant Harper. The squad brought back a prisoner.”

  “They—a prisoner.” Bradley saw the unfamiliar uniform.

  He and Sammie stood a moment while he digested this latest development.

  “Sammie, go help rescue your mother and the others. My responsibility is here.”

  “I understand, Dad.”

  SMG Marshall rushed up. “Sir, Sergeant Stratton is shot, and Harper taken prisoner. Someone said that they brought back a prisoner.” He saw the prisoner and looked towards Bradley seeking guidance.

  Bradley nodded his head towards the War Room, indicating to Marshall to bring the prisoner there. Marshall ordered the soldier guarding the prisoner to take him inside the War Room.

  The soldier yanked the prisoner to his feet and shoved him towards the alcove. Bradley looked at Marshall without saying anything. Marshall recognized the look and turned to address the soldier. “Son, do not treat this man any different from how you would want treated if you were in his shoes.”

  Bradley nodded his head in approval. “Sergeant Major, locate the S-2 to interrogate the prisoner.”

  The prisoner appeared scared, but not defiant.

  “Do you speak English?” Bradley asked the prisoner. He expected that he did from the way he thankfully glanced at Marshall when Marshall came to his defense.

  “Yes, sir” the prisoner nervously said.

  “Are you hungry? Would you like something to drink?”

  “Ni. Nada.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Cesar Oquendo, Senor.”

  “I am Colonel Thomas Bradley, United States Army. Where are you from, Cesar?”

  “Cuba, Senor.”

  After sending for the S-2, Sergeant Major Marshall listened to the exchange without speaking. He could see that the prisoner intended to cooperate. He stood up. “Sir, the S-2 will be here. You need to eat. I’ll bring you and Cesar something from the mess hall while you are waiting for Colonel Schwartz. I’ll try to get a progress report from the south portal.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant Major.”

  Both heard the engine and rushed to the entrance to the alcove in time to see the rubber tired loader racing through the tunnel where no vehicles traveled in the past four years. The loader operator stopped when he saw them and shouted to them above the sound of the engine amplified by the close confines of the tunnel. “We do not have room to work inside the tunnel and no place to pile the rock. We have to enter from the outside.”

  Early on when the residents first took shelter in the tunnel, they dug a 10-foot wide moat and used the material removed to form a rock berm inside the entrance to each of the portals to prevent an enemy breaching the doors and entering with motorized weapons.

  They also constructed a pedestrian bridge to the right side of the moat to allow the residents to leave and enter the mountain. They anticipated the need to move vehicles in and out of the south portal and constructed a portable bridge across the moat that they could remove in case of an attack.

  They never anticipated any vehicle traffic at the north portal. Nonetheless, they installed two massive steel beams placed in vertical positions with the capability of lowering them with a hand winch to provide travel across the moat.

  The security personnel, with the aid of some of the residents, rushed to lower the beams for the waiting loader. Moments later, the loader operator shifted the loader into gear and continued at full speed out the north portal with a flock of people following in pursuit.

  To get to the mess, Marshall to struggle through the first wave of exhausted residents rushing behind the loader back to the south portal.

  Mitchell and Doctor Hains both stopped working when Bradley entered the War Room looking exhausted from exertion and worry. Bradley instructed them to both continue with their work on the satellites and leave the recovery to the first responders. Hains gathered up the rest of his staff who resumed their job while Bradley did his, —interrogating the prisoner to learn the identity of their enemy while the prisoner seemed willing to talk.

  Lt. Col. Raymond Schwartz entered the mountain four years earlier as a major with the position of S-2, intelligence, security, and information operations. No need existed for his battalion level position since entering the mountain. He arrived at the War Room alcove eager to be able to utilize his position and training. It surprised him to find the commander of the mountain and the prisoner sharing lunch and talking.

  Bradley introduced the two and invited Schwartz to take a seat. Schwartz recognized this being more of a debriefing than a prisoner interrogation. He accepted Bradley’s offer of sharing his lunch and turned on his interrogation charm.

  Bradley finished his lunch while the three of them talked with the Sergeant Major listening. Seeing the exchange going so well, he stood up.

  “Gentlemen, if you will excuse me, I need to check on my people.” He addressed Oquendo, “Cesar, we have an emergency that I need to check on. Please continue our discussion with Colonel Schwartz.”

  Sergeant Major Marshall took his leave as well to accompany Bradley. Bradley appeared relaxed during the interrogation of Oquendo but dropped this artificial show of professionalism as the Sergeant Major, and he rushed the three miles to the excavation site where almost all the residents stood in stunned groups while the loader attacked the first of three separate rock barriers. Roof cave-in along with debris from the explosion created one, the defensive rock dump formed a second obstacle, and a rockslide off the side of the mountain formed the third.

  The start of the rock barrier lay about 25-feet beyond the frame of the huge metal door. Un, a landslide off the slope of the mountain caused by the explosion now blocked the open door. Rocks disturbed by the blast continued to slide down the mountain and onto the work area of the loader. The crowd remained muted by shock and concern, the sounds of the loader and dropping rock being the only sound.

  Sammie saw her father with the Sergeant Major and joined them. “Dad, it has been over three hours now,” she whispered. He swallowed and nodded his head, but did not otherwise acknowledge her comment. He slid his arm around their waist where they stood in silence, and not realizing it, a show of love and strength. Over the next ten minutes, the families of those missing arrived and banded around them as though drawn to their pillar of strength like a magnet.

  “Sir, may I have a moment with you?” Bradley felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to face Colonel Barlow.

  “Sure,” he said while following her a few feet away so the others would not hear.

  “Sir, I think everyone should go a
bout their business and leave this to the first responders. “Revealing her tender compassion, she sorrowfully continued. “It has been over three hours. The chances of survival without air circulation are slim. The explosion blocked the air discharge from the tunnel. We have opened the discharge duct so the air can circulate back through the tunnel and escape out the north portal.”

  Bradley saw many explosion sites during his military career. He expected what they might find inside would be very gruesome. The thoughts of his wife, his mate being inside this rubble almost brought him to his knees. These thoughts lasted only seconds before his military training kicked back in. In combat, a commander triaged an event like this and carried on the battle.

  “You are correct, Barlow. Get the people back into the mountain.”

  He paused in thought. “Reserve the mess hall area to assemble the families of the victims. Please ask the clerics to be present to console the families.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Barlow, the prisoner is cooperating. S-2 is debriefing him. I want Major Callahan, and you present for an S-2 briefing in the War Room.”

  Colonels Bradley and Barlow, Major Callahan, Lieutenant Sammie Bronson, and the Sergeant Major led the stunned families back to the mess hall area where they unofficially cordoned off a reserved area for them. Several of the families walked over and hugged Bradley and Sammie to let them know that they shared their pain of not knowing the status of a loved one. Bradley and his entourage spent a few moments comforting the others before fading away to the War Room.

  Out of habit, each of them glanced at the radiation level reading and the outdoor camera monitors when they entered alcove. Bradley noted a thread of data was walking through its paces on the big screen. He saw Colonel Schwartz waiting for him. He nodded recognition to Mitchell but went to Schwartz first. The rest of his entourage followed, and all took their seats to receive the S-2 briefing. They noted Cesar Oquendo not being present.

  Schwartz noted Bradley looking at the empty chair occupied by the prisoner.

  “I placed him under guard at quartermaster,” Schwartz offered in explanation.

  “Listen up, everyone. Sergeant Stratton is undergoing surgery for a leg wound. The doctors expect a full recovery. I’ll now brief you on what we’ve learned from our prisoner.”

  He continued, reading from his handwritten notes.

  “Cesar Oquendo is an English-speaking Cuban. He lived in Miami for two years with an uncle, where he learned to speak English. He served for two years in the Cuban Revolutionary Armed Forces before joining the FARC, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia as a mercenary. That is where he was when the EMP struck. The EMP spared Columbia, but much of the populace died off during the nuclear winter that followed. He survived in the jungle living off the land.”

  Colonel Schwartz looked from his notes and concluded, “Having said that, I find him friendly to Americans and not a threat.”

  Schwartz did not shrink under Callahan’s withering gaze. “Sir, the man survived the best that he could as we would have in his circumstances. He claims that he surrendered to our troops and Sergeant Stratton’s men support this. He did not fire on our people. He knows nothing about the taking of Sergeant Harper.”

  “Did he by chance tell you what Army he is in and what in the hell are they doing attacking our troops in Las Vegas,” Callahan said, sarcasm dripping in his tone.

  Bradley intervened, “Lane, I spoke to the prisoner and concurred with the opinion of the S-2.”

  Schwartz respected the situation of his boss being under enormous strain not knowing the fate of his wife and others inside the mountain. Turning to answer Major Callahan, he kept his voice steady, but courteous with no irascibility.

  “Major, that is the point. There is no army. Per Oquendo, a consortium of transnational Muslim radical groups has emerged to set up operations here in Nevada. In addition to the Islamic jihad Terrorists already positioned in this country, they have gathered up Islamist mercenaries and insurgencies from Mexico, Honduras, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, and Panama to act as their army. He says most of them have pledged allegiance to al-Qaeda to continue jihadist activities. He believes they have the support of an American politician.”

  “Nevada! Why Nevada. There is nothing here,” Callahan’s tone was more conciliatory.

  “We are here,” Callahan responded quietly. “We have in this mountain more knowledge and advanced technology than exists anywhere on the planet.”

  Barlow concluded, “And this politician would have access to the planes overflying us.”

  “Add to that, Power and control,” Barlow added speculatively. “Did he mention Hoover Dam?”

  “Yes, he did. That is where they headquarter. They are temporarily occupying the dam.”

  Barlow nodded her head. “That figures.” She faced Bradley to clarify. “Sir, not only does Hoover Dam protect from nuclear radiation, but it also controls the Western United States. It controls the water from the Colorado River that flows through several states and into Mexico. Its generators control the electricity for no telling where all. Most likely the generators escaped the EMP, and all we lost was distribution capability.”

  “Shit!”

  “It gets worse, sir.”

  “Well, spit it out, Colonel.”

  “Oquendo would not know much. He arrived here only last week. He thinks the boss is an American politician in Washington who converted to Islam. Oquendo was on a detail to do the same as us, to gather up supplies for the winter., our AWOL nerd located them and offered us up in exchange for asylum. They intended to steal our truckloads of merchandise.”

  “I would lay odds that the politician is a career politician and most likely a lawyer of whatever state he or she represents,” Callahan spit out in disgust.

  “One last thing, Colonel. Oquendo said they know that they only 30 days to gather up everything before the return of winter.”

  The silence at the table seemed to last forever as everyone digested the bad news. All eyes focused on the big screen hoping to see contradictory evidence to what they heard.

  The meeting broke up with Callahan announcing his intention to check on Sergeant Stratton and get the trucks unloaded.

  Bradley and Sammie returned to the mess hall area where they mingled with the other families, hiding their despair with a showing of human concern. Though the gesture relieved their heartache only a modicum amount, it meant everything to the families knowing it was coming from their leaders also having lost family and a loved one.

  Bradley and Sammie both knew that if they stopped, their concern for Stacey would overwhelm them. They refused to surrender their concern to grief by acknowledging the inevitable. They left the mess hall and went to the clinic to check on SP5 Dawson and her child. They visited Sergeant Stratton next, finding him laid up with a shattered pelvis, but otherwise doing well. Everywhere they went through the tunnel, seeing Bradley and Sammie brought tears to the eyes of the residents. Though unconfirmed, all knew that the mountain lost Stacey, its first lady, Dr. Sanders, at least three farmers, and a yet to be confirmed number of its children and livestock.

  “Sir, Major Callahan asked me to give you this.”

  Bradley and Sammie returned to the mess hall to wait with the families for a report from the south portal. “Thank you, Corporal,” Bradley said to the young soldier from the archive section. He opened the paper and scanned it. He said to Sammie. “Appears Carlos did some research on bomb-making.” He handed the document to Sammie. They both added this confirmation to their load of grief as the hours dragged on.

  “Dad, here they come,” Sammie exclaimed.

  An entourage of the mountain’s military officers and the cleric approached the mess hall area. Bradley, Sammie, and all the families stood up and waited for their approach. No words needed saying. They could tell by the saddened looks of the faces that the entourage bore terrible news. Smothered sobs filled the cordoned area as well as outside where others witnessed the arriva
l of the horrible news.

  The entourage stopped before the families and stood a moment in silence for lack of knowing what to say. One of the clerics stepped forward. “Shall we pray?”

  ####

  Chapter 6 - Return of winter and Preparations for War

  The following day

  Gone were the civilian clothes. Every man, woman, and child wore the ACU combat uniform of the United States. Some may have been Air Force or Army uniforms, but that no longer mattered. Today they wore the uniform of the Mountain Command of the Jackass Flats Territory with the command in a state of war. The military officers all wore pistols strapped to their legs. Some also carried a rifle. All the enlisted personnel carried their assigned weapon always.

  Colonel Bradley and 1Lt Sammie Bronson, Sergeants Tyler and Henrys, their families, and all the families of the farmers and children lost in the attack on the south portal stood tall and straight at the head of a mass grave to face a sea of Kevlar helmets worn by the residents of the mountain.

  To their left stood the members of the cleric, and in the grave before them, the broken and mutilated remains of Stacey Bradley, Doctor Kathy Sanders, a pair of husband and wife farmers, and five children, ages three years to eight years.

  Already buried and covered up in a mass grave farther in the desert lay the Bradleys horses, two cows and their nursing calves, two cats, a puppy, and some Guinea hens.

  An American flag fluttered in the light breeze. Beside it waved the blue flag of the Jackass Flats Territory, the state flag of Nevada with the words Battle Born inscribed on it.

  Bradley squeezed Sammie’s hand before releasing it to step forward to speak to the dead-on behalf of the colony. He held a microphone to amplify his whispery voice.

  “There are no words that can be spoken to adequately express our loss—our love—for our loved ones that we are burying today. On behalf of everyone inside the mountain, I speak to those of you so cruelly taken from us. Not one day, one hour or one minute will pass without our remembering and honoring each of you. I promise you that there is no measure that we will not take to extract justice for you. We assure you that those of us left behind will not follow your fate. Using the words of President Roosevelt at the start of World War II, this date shall live in infamy.” He saluted the grave, pivoted and returned to stand beside Sammie, again seeking her hand.