Fall of Houston Series | Book 5 | No Man's Land

by Payne, T. L.

  Others on the base regarded Retreat as a nuisance and would hide inside the building to wait for the ceremony to end. It was wrong and it bothered Will, but what were they fighting for if not for the freedom to act immature and foolish if that was what they were? His thoughts about freedom were continuously evolving whenever he found himself outside and the bugle began calling.

  The next few days went by in a blur of activity and preparation for the mission. They examined and reexamined the horses making sure each one was in the very best condition, knowing that once they dismounted their vehicles, the horses would be one of their most important resources. Each rider made sure their horse had everything it would need. The veterinarian looked them over daily to ensure they remained ready for deployment.

  The two platoons ate and trained together over the next few days. Each trooper knew the mission inside and out. They each memorized the maps and various routes.

  Will and Isabella leaned against a Humvee and watched what would be their final sunset before departing Little Rock, knowing that there wouldn’t be an opportunity for such moments once the mission began. Will longed for the day they could relax and enjoy a nice dinner and sit outside to watch the sunset until the stars came out. Ever since they’d met back in Houston on the day of the EMP, they’d been in survival mode. After nine months of it, it was hard to imagine their old life or how easy they’d once had it.

  Embracing Isabella, Will kissed his bride softly. She leaned into him and the kiss turned more passionate. His hand had slid down her back. He grunted when he heard footsteps approaching behind him.

  “Sorry,” Walker said, noticing he had wandered up at the wrong time.

  Isabella pulled away. If there’d been more light, Will would have seen her blushing.

  “It’s okay, Walker. Join us.” Will cursed under his breath.

  “We should hit the rack. We could be shipping out at zero dark thirty,” Walker said.

  “Right behind you, friend,” Will said. He was grateful to be heading into this with Walker and Jason by his side. He trusted them. It still bothered him that Isabella was going on the mission as well. Not that she was incapable—she was a very skilled mounted trooper. But she was his wife and he never wanted to see her put in harm’s way.

  Will yawned. Regardless of whether tomorrow was the day they headed out or not, they would still be up long before the sun, either packing up or marching five miles and doing physical training. Will detested early morning PT. Either way, they all needed their beauty rest. He took Isabella’s hand in his. He was grateful to have her there with him. He hoped that what they were about to do might somehow help the nation come back together, allowing them to celebrate Independence Day with Cayden and the rest of their loved ones next year.

  It seemed like a pipe dream most of the time. Like an exercise in futility. It had been nine very long months, and very little progress had been made outside of Houston, Dallas, and Austin—at least from the part of the country he could see. Stephens believed in this mission. She thought it to be the first step in taking on Dempsey—now their greatest enemy—besides the Russians who’d attacked the West Coast. To her, his vast resources were the key to pushing back against the Russians and making true progress in securing the nation. Will wished he shared her optimism. Maybe it was the fatigue or missing his family, but he felt like they were on a giant hamster wheel and never making true progress.

  After a fitful night’s sleep, the 0430 bugle call was most unwelcome. Five days after their Fourth of July celebration, they were as ready as they could be to secure the gold and defend the once-great nation.

  “Fontenot, get your squad ready, the mission is a go,” Lieutenant Burns said, as he stepped outside the barracks.

  As they loaded the horses into the trailers the third time, Will believed this would be different. Missing was Colonel Sharp and the team that was to be on the cargo plane. Even Brad Smith looked more solemn this time around. Gone were his crude jokes and wise-ass demeanor. As he checked his pack and secured the rest of his gear, the special forces soldiers arrived dressed in black and all kitted out in their expensive, high-tech gear, most of which Will had never seen. This had to be it. It was definitely go time.

  Stephens pulled Will aside. “I have a contact with that group you met at Lake Sylvia. Even though our recon teams were unable to find any trace of DHS activity in northern Arkansas, that group brought me proof.”

  “Proof?” Will asked. How had they gathered proof when the military couldn’t find anything?

  “A body. A man carrying DHS official identification.”

  Will’s eyes widened. “Fresh?”

  “They killed him about a week prior. That was three weeks ago. So, within the last month, they’ve been in our neighborhood,” Stephens said. “Of course, I’m not supposed to be telling you any of this. I’m sharing it with you so you’ll be alert out there. They aren’t out patrolling the Ozarks in search of survivors.”

  “So there will be teams out looking for them again? Will that mean trouble for Lake Sylvia?”

  “We have teams out now. They’re still coming up empty. I’ve alerted the folks at Lake Sylvia. They’re safe.”

  “What are DHS goons doing down here?” Will asked. He was pretty sure he knew. They were doing reconnaissance on the Little Rock base. They were reporting back to their headquarters in Illinois about military movement in Arkansas.

  “Recon. Same thing we’re doing up north,” Stephens said.

  A pang of grief moved through Will. There had still been no word about Pete, Tank, and the others they’d sent to spy on Dempsey’s so-called shelters operating as forced labor camps.

  Stephens stepped back and turned. Will touched her shoulder. “You think we’ll encounter trouble from them before we reach Missouri?”

  “I doubt it. They’re not supposed to be here, remember.”

  “I guess we’ll see you in Missouri,” Will said, forcing a smile.

  “I’ll see you in Iron County,” she said, calling over her shoulder as she walked away.

  “Second Platoon, load ‘em up,” Lieutenant Bronson yelled.

  Will took in a deep breath and exhaled as he moved toward the convoy of military vehicles readying to pull out from the base. Walker and Jason were already seated inside one of the vehicles. Will searched for Isabella, but she was already with her squad in the back of the convoy.

  Will gave one last glance back at the horse trailers before climbing into the Humvee. He’d feel much more comfortable if they were leaving on horseback as they usually did. Driving down the middle of the road in the noisy vehicles made them too much of a target; at least with the up-armored Humvee and the M2 Browning machine gun mounted on top. He understood why they couldn’t ride three hundred miles on horseback, but he would sure feel better once they reached Iron County and could get back on a horse.

  Will shifted in his seat as they pulled through the gate. “They’ll be fine,” Jason said. “We’re stopping in a couple of hours to let them drink.”

  “Some of them are pretty hard to get into the trailer.”

  “We’ll water those inside the trailers,” Jason said. “We won’t push them too hard. We’ll need them in top shape when we arrive.”

  Will turned back in his seat. “What about us?” he asked.

  Will’s and Jason’s eyes met. After all the fighting they’d seen, they should be ready. They’d fought civilians with hunting rifles and the Chinese with military-grade weapons, and they were still here to talk about it. But this somehow felt different. Will couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was the importance of the mission or the transition from a fighting force to a reconnaissance and recovery team. But either way, Will didn’t like that he’d be so far from his family if things went bad. Three hundred miles was an enormous distance these days.

  Their first stop was at a creek near Searcy, Arkansas along Highway 167. The trailer containing two of the draft horses was unloaded first and the horses were led dow
n to the water to drink.

  “I don’t know why we’re stopping so soon,” one of the troopers said as he led the horse down the embankment.

  “The heat, dumbass. How about you ride back there with them, Clemens. We’ll see how often you’d want to stop for some fresh air,” Specialist Cara Fisher replied.

  Clemens flashed her a dirty look but wisely kept his smart remarks to himself. Fisher was not a woman he’d want to mess with. She could outshoot and outride almost everyone in the squad, not to mention kick his ass in hand-to-hand combat. Will was pleased she was in Isabella’s squad.

  The two special forces soldiers assigned to Team Razorback had ridden in the first vehicle with Lieutenant Burns. Will looked around for them as members of the platoon began spreading out to pull security. He saw a flash of black as the two men disappeared on horseback into the brush beside the highway.

  After each of the horses was watered and allowed to cool off for a while, they were loaded back into the horse trailers and the soldiers got back into the vehicles. They sat in the middle of the highway for several more minutes just waiting—for what, Will didn’t know. It wasn’t until he spotted the two SPF soldiers cross the nearby field that he understood. They’d been scouting ahead. Will was in awe of their gear. The sci-fi-like goggles they wore on the top of their heads were like something from a movie. He was sure the military had had all kinds of gear like that prior to the EMP, but how much of it was still available and operational now? He couldn’t wait to have a chance to talk to these guys and find out.

  Eighteen

  Stephens

  Highway 67

  Bald Knob, Arkansas

  July 10th

  Event + Ten Months

  Just fifteen miles north of Searcy, the vehicles carrying Team Razorback stopped near the exit ramp for Highway 167 in the community of Bald Knob, Arkansas. Stephens and the vehicles carrying Team Lonestar passed them and took the exit ramp, turning left and heading north toward Missouri. First Sergeant Charles Webster sat in the seat opposite Stephens. His eyes were closed, but she doubted the man was sleeping. From what she knew of the battle-hardened trooper, he was preparing himself for what they both knew lay ahead.

  Stephens was feeling the pressure as well. This was perhaps the most important assignment of her life. She was under no illusions. Retrieving the gold, and making sure it made it to the plane, would take a miracle. She’d been skeptical of the plan from the beginning. Going in on horseback seemed preposterous. If, or more likely when, they encountered Dempsey’s army, they’d be unable to evade them pulling a wagon full of gold coins. Their only hope was to be able to detect the enemy’s movement in time to hide. What kind of tactical plan was that?

  After going over and over the mission in her mind, she prayed Brad Smith didn’t screw up his part and was able to gather the needed intelligence from any survivors in the area to know whether Dempsey’s men were near the area of the cave where the gold had been stashed following the previously failed mission to retrieve it.

  While the military worked on obtaining the shipment of gold coins, President Latham was working on convincing the Brazilian government to wait for payment for the military supplies and equipment Brazil agreed to sell him. So far, the Brazilian president had demanded to see the gold before agreeing to the contract. The US wasn’t their only customer.

  Having the distinction of being one of the few nations unaffected by World War III, and still able to manufacture the weapons those nations fighting it still required, placed the Brazilian president in the unique position of not having to negotiate. The gold would be there when the ship was ready to leave or the weapons would go to the enemies of the US.

  With nearly all of the nation’s resources being used to supply the military and hold off the invasion by the Russians and Chinese, there wasn’t much left for procuring food to feed the survivors. It had taken two months for the South American ship laden with food to reach the Port of Houston. If Latham failed to delay its departure or the two teams failed to secure the gold and get it to the port in time, those weapons would go to the enemies invading the country. Stephens couldn’t allow that to happen. Somehow, someway, they had to succeed by any means necessary.

  While her convoy moved north, Stephens stared out at the countryside and thought of Will and Isabella. How unlikely their meeting again had been. When she’d said goodbye to them in Houston after their battle with the insurgents at Ellington Joint Reserve Base, Stephens was certain she’d never see them again. She wondered what cosmic plan had brought them together at the FEMA shelter in Texarkana, and now put them all on this mission together.

  They’d all survived Houston and succeeded in securing the flash drive containing information that had been key to thwarting China’s plans and aided in stopping the full invasion along the southern border. Stephens hoped they could prevail again against Dempsey and his goons. Will and Isabella were battle-tested this time around and better armed. She just hoped Brad “the Cad” Smith didn’t do anything to screw it all up.

  “Have you ever been to Fort Leonard Wood?” Webster asked.

  Stephens shifted in her seat. “No. I was in St. Louis a year before the event, but never made it to the base.”

  “It’s been years since I’ve been there, myself. I trained there for about six months back in the early 2000s. There weren’t many people living in the area off-base. I’m betting the base is deserted. With the military pulling out, there would be little reason for civilians to take up residence there.”

  “I hope you’re right. I would hate to have to evict survivors,” Stephens said.

  Webster rubbed the top of his close-cropped hair and rolled his shoulders. “At any rate, the airfield is all we need. If we can secure the area from the airport to the south gate, that might be sufficient. The plane lands, we load up the gold, and take off before anyone knows we’re there.”

  They both knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Anyone in the area would hear their military vehicles from miles away. When they heard the plane land, having not seen or heard one in almost nine months, they’d come running to the base. Colonel Sharp would need a significant force to hold them off. The survivors would no doubt expect aid from the only government they’d seen in months.

  “What we need is more like him.” Stephens nodded toward First Sergeant Peterson. Dressed in black and kitted-out with every high-tech gadget that had survived the EMP, Peterson looked bored.

  Peterson was one of the four special forces soldiers that Latham had pulled from the battle against the Russians out in California. Their job was to pull reconnaissance and help the teams avoid Dempsey’s men and any other trouble that might prevent them from completing their mission. He was a rugged, good-looking man. In another life, Stephens would have contemplated asking him out, but now, no one but Brad had time for dating. She shuddered as she thought that she’d once cared for the man.

  She’d been informed that Brad was having an affair with someone from Colonel Sharp’s team. He’d tried his best to get her assigned to Team Razorback so they could be together on this mission. Not that Stephens cared, but she’d been pleased to hear Colonel Sharp had denied his request. He’d said her skill set was best suited for securing the plane. Stephens had her suspicions that there was a love/lust triangle going on between the two men and this Martinez woman. Stephens had known that Martinez was trouble the moment she saw her. She had no doubt Martinez was accustomed to using her beauty to get what she wanted.

  Stephens leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She doubted there would be much time for sleeping once they left northern Arkansas and entered Missouri. They’d need to be alert and ready as they crossed no man’s land and headed to Fort Leonard Wood.

  Nineteen

  Will

  Highway 67

  Walnut Ridge, Arkansas

  July 5th

  Event + Ten Months

  The convoy suddenly came to a stop just outside of Walnut Ridge, Arkansas, ne
ar an agricultural airfield. They sat there with the engine idling for what seemed to Will to be an eternity before being informed of the reason for the unplanned stop.

  Smith, the CIA agent, appeared next to the driver’s door. “We’re going to hold here for a bit. The scout team hasn’t reported in yet.”

  “Copy that,” the driver said before turning to relay the message to the rest of the team, as if it needed repeating.

  “What does that mean?” Will asked.

  Walker shrugged one shoulder. “Seal Team Six hasn’t phoned in.”

  Will gave him a sarcastic look. “I got that. Why? What could be the hold up?’

  “My guess?” Walker raised his signature Western hat and wiped sweat from his brow. “My guess is they have radio problems. Depending on the terrain out here, I’m not sure how good the signal is going to be or exactly how far ahead they traveled.”

  The recon team was supposed to be twenty or so miles ahead scouting for any signs of trouble—Dempsey’s men in particular. A reconnaissance team had driven the route all the way to the Missouri border the day before. The scout’s report had found no significant threats, which greatly relieved Will. Now, with their scout team failing to report in, all sorts of dark thoughts ran through Will’s mind. He hated just sitting there on the highway. He wanted to get out, stretch his legs and go check on his bride, but he knew that would be frowned upon. He couldn’t leave his squad.

  Five minutes later, when there had still been no report from the scouts, Will ordered his squad to dismount their vehicles and open the doors on the horse trailers. The sun was high in the sky and beating down on them. It wouldn’t take long for the horses to overheat in those conditions. He didn’t want to have to get them out of the trailers, though. As soon as they did, that would be when they’d be called to move out.