by EE Isherwood
“Don’t worry. The battery is out. No one can track us. However, I used it back in Westby to make contact with US forces in Europe. I got on a second time when we were at Devils Tower, before the bear attack. I’ve been thinking about it every second of the car ride here. Since we were stopping at this cabin, I’d planned to share what I’d done, and learned, so we could talk about it in a quiet place. My uncle was probably going to explode…so best not to do it when he was driving.”
Meechum made a whip-snap realization. “That’s why they bombed Westby, isn’t it? They tracked your tablet.”
Kyla cringed with sheepish embarrassment. “I thought I was fast enough to hide myself on the network. But listen—”
“This is bad. If the enemy draws a line between those two points, they’ll know exactly where your uncle and the chief are headed. They might also search here…” She seemed to rethink it. “We have to get you going in another direction. West is good.”
She huffed to get the woman’s attention. “Hey! Listen. It’s much worse than what you think. When I made contact the second time, some general talked to me on chat. He wouldn’t come out and say it, because of OPSEC, but I think they’re going to use a nuclear missile to destroy NORAD. I told them it was the invader’s base of operations.” She switched gears, getting more restrained in her tone of voice. “Meech, like I said, I was going to mention all this to the group tonight. If Emily and my uncle drive to that base, they’re in grave danger of being nuked. I can’t… We can’t allow them to die because of me.”
Meechum seemed unconvinced. “My orders were to protect you.”
Hands back on her hips, she stood in front of the Marine in a pose of defiance. “I’m going to find a car, drive like a maniac to catch up to my uncle and warn him to stay away from NORAD. You’ve taught me everything I know about war and fighting, and I’m thankful for it. But because of that same training, there’s no way I’m going to sit out the biggest conflict in human history.”
“You know, that should have been my line,” the other woman said dryly.
“What line? That I taught you everything you know?”
“Ha! Nice try. No, I don’t want to sit on my hands, either. But I also have to follow my orders. I’ll help you catch up to your uncle and pass the warning, but then you and I continue on our mission to stay outside of the main battlespace.”
“Unless we get new orders when we find them…” she said with a wry smile on her lips.
Meechum caught on. “I really have taught you too well, Dudette.”
“Nah, you’re an excellent Marine. You follow necessary orders. Luckily, I’m not in the military and Uncle Ted is family. Like my mom, I don’t have to do whatever he says.” Uncle Ted was right about her mother in one important regard, however. Her pacifist tendencies would have been all over the idea of Kyla sitting in a remote cabin doing nothing. But she’d been around two strong female role models for the past several days. It simply wasn’t in her anymore to sit on the sidelines.
Fort Collins, CO
“I forgot there’s no power,” Ted remarked while staring at the powerless television set. He’d jumped out of the truck and ran inside the abandoned home to tune into the local cable TV stations. If they were on, it would have meant Fort Collins still had a working studio. “They even have the Southern Solar digital-TV equipment connected to this flatscreen. This would have been perfect.”
Emily studied the living room, then walked toward the kitchen. The layout was large and sprawling. He’d purposely driven to one of the biggest houses he could find, assuming they would have the digital TV service. Since the man leading the enemy forces owned the Southern Solar network, it stood to reason if the station was still online, it was a result of his ownership of the hardware. Ted assumed it if they could hurt his local television operation, they would hurt the enemy leader. Less than a minute after she’d left, the driven woman came back in holding a phone book and a twinkie. “This will have our answer.”
“Where’d you find that?”
She somehow knew he wasn’t asking about the book. “They have everything in their kitchen. Still fresh, too.” She took a modest bite, getting white filling on her lips, which she absently licked off while focused on the book.
“Dang, that looks good,” he said, speaking of both her and the sugary treat. He ran into the kitchen and found the open box on the counter. On the floor, a woman’s nightgown had been discarded, along with a necklace and a mobile phone. Sobered by the sight, he tentatively walked around them and reached for the treasure.
“Thanks for letting us be here,” he mouthed to the clothing pile.
Ted retreated from the kitchen and carried the mostly-full box to the living room. Emily had downed hers by the time he started his first one. He was impressed by her singular focus on the thin yellow book. Using it to look up a number seemed quaint, as opposed to always tapping his phone to search for information, but it served their purpose.
He took a big bite, talking while chewing. “I wish I had a Kit-Kat. We used to break those apart and dredge out Twinkie filling. They made for great bonus treats while doing long tours across the sky.”
She flipped a couple of pages. “So, that’s what you did while waiting for excitement to happen on my plane.”
He laughed. “You have no idea.”
“Here!” She tapped a page with her fingernail. “The local affiliate is right here.” She finally glanced up, smiling when she saw him. “You’ve got some of that great filling on your whiskers. You might need to shave soon, too.”
He hurriedly used his black sleeve to wipe his mouth, which then required him to scrub the conspicuous blotch away with his other arm.
Emily laughed. “You know, there’s a whole kitchen of wash towels and napkins.”
Ted felt foolish, but it was hard to avoid while eating the moist tube of cake filled with crème. He tried to think of something sensible. “We should load up as much food as we can carry.”
They took the phone book since it contained a map of the area. They also filled two plastic tubs with as many canned goods, crackers, water bottles, and utensils as they could fit. They both moved around the woman’s pink nightclothes, respectful it had once been a person. Back in the living room, he threw in the box of Twinkies, sure they would consume the whole supply before the day was out.
“Let’s roll,” Emily said, once their supplies were ready.
“Wait. This house seems pretty soccer-mom-ish. Do you want to see if they have any clothes you can wear?” Based on the modern art on the walls, two cars in the garage, clean carpets, and lack of pets, he assumed an older couple lived in the home. Tasteful clothes might be on offer.
She paused to think about it but ended up shaking her head. “First of all. Soccer mom? I don’t even have kids yet. Second of all, I’d say these jammies are what we need to get us into the studio, don’t you?” They’d talked about changing clothes for most of the morning, and she’d even grabbed a few tourist T-shirts from Devils Tower, but it wasn’t urgent to change. It might never be. The black jumpsuits they’d taken off the dead men would give them an edge.
“That’s a good call, Madam President, as always.”
They both hustled to the door, but he stopped abruptly before going out, sliding on a throw rug at the entryway. “Wait!”
“What?” she asked anxiously from the front porch.
“We have some time…” He spoke in an if-you’re-interested tone as he looked back toward the empty home.
Emily walked back inside, curious as to what he was looking at. Ted found it fun to watch her be so clueless, and he wasn’t going to do anything to help her figure it out. “Do you need a rest?” she finally asked.
He rolled his eyes.
“What?” she pressed.
He strode through the door, sure she was going to figure it out at some point. As expected, she came out after him, still not catching on to his non-specific request.
“What am I missing?” she said,
finally sounding upset.
Ted gripped the door handle of the truck but watched her come out onto the driveway. She flipped her bangs out of her eyes in a way he’d come to appreciate as being part of her nervous tics. It was very cute. “You know, for being the most powerful woman in the entire world, you have a blind spot to certain things.” He’d done it to remind her she’d used the same line on him, and what it meant.
She glanced over her shoulder, as if noticing the empty house for the first time. “Ah. I’m an idiot.” She thumbed back toward the doorway. “It’s still empty, if you want to go check it out.”
He sighed heavily. Nothing would be more enjoyable at that moment than sorting out some feelings he had for his travel companion, but he’d ditched Kyla to do a job. He intended to take Emily into harm’s way. It had been wrong to tease her and tempt them both. “We can’t. It’s getting late. I want to get to the station before they shut down. Assuming they work normal hours.”
“Raincheck?” she said with optimism.
“Deal.” He got behind the wheel of the SUV. “Now, let’s go break some things.”
Amarillo, TX
“If we’re going to Colorado Springs to take on NORAD, we should have better weapons than this,” Long commented to Brent as they surveyed what they’d tossed into the back of a black police Chevy Tahoe. “We have access to every weapon left behind by the United States military. Why don’t we go steal some?”
Brent closed the rear door. “We have pistols and shotguns for the up-close defense we need. We’re going up against a huge army. As much as I’d love to get a five-finger discount on a tank or fighter jet, those aren’t what’s going to win the war for us. We have to think like guerilla fighters. Travel light. Strike fast. Blend back into the land. Besides, after the success of those tankers last night, I intend to get some more for the next battle.”
Long considered what he’d said before walking off. Trish came over and stood in the vacated spot.
“Brent, are you sure this is the best way to strike back? Maybe we should lay low for a while. Last night at the airport was great, but we got lucky. How many more times do you think they’ll let us get away with it?”
He chuckled. “One simple berm would have made our attack useless,” he said dryly. “They must not have anyone from a proper army working for them. It’s defense one-oh-one when on hostile shores.”
“Yeah, well, maybe they learned from it. The next target might be worse for us.”
Brent gave her a dismissive wave. “Bah. No one can improve their defensive posture overnight. The sooner we hit them, the better. We have to do it before they figure out how exposed they are.”
“You think they’re in Dallas? El Paso? Maybe we should check. Hit those targets first?” She leaned in and spoke so only he could hear her. As two experienced guards, it was a mode of communication they were good at. “Then we could swing by and check on Will.”
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” he replied. Will had weeks’ worth of food and water in his cell; he was the least of their worries. “I know this isn’t how we planned our retirement but learning about NORAD as the center of their command structure might have been a bigger score than destroying all those planes. We have a real chance to strike a blow against the people in charge of this shitshow.” He pointed to the prison and all the mounds of dropped uniforms.
She did her best to smile. It made sense to see her have such reservations. She was the young, short-haired blonde who helped run a non-violent wing of an out-of-the-way prison. Tough, yes, but she wasn’t a soldier.
“Come on.” He gave her a chuck on the shoulder. “You can take first shift behind the wheel. I’m going to get some rest.” He’d been going strong for days. A mandatory timeout was in his immediate future.
The rest of the men saddled up into their police trucks. He got in his own and worked the CB radio. “All right, men. Say good-bye to Amarillo. We’re going for a little ride.”
Trish climbed in while he was speaking. The two of them had cleaned up and put on fresh uniforms from their lockers. The rest of the men broke into other lockers to secure their own uniforms. Brent wanted his band of merry troopers all wearing the same color, so they could identify each other. They all agreed wearing prison orange would be counterproductive, so they went with guard attire.
Looking at his female companion in the seat next to him, she seemed almost normal. It was a brief glimpse back to the old days of a week ago. They could be gearing up for a routine prison transfer, rather than an assault on a deadly enemy. The feeling went away as soon as she cranked over the motor.
Brent let go of a long exhale. A deep breath before the big show.
“To Colorado Springs!” he exclaimed into the mic.
CHAPTER 9
Fort Collins, CO
Ted thought many of the towns in Colorado and Wyoming were built by the same people. Fort Collins fit the mold of most of the others they’d passed through recently. It had wide, tree-lined avenues, was as flat as a table, and the touristy downtown was crowded with hundred-year-old storefronts that could have time-traveled from the Old West. The central business district, which did have a few modern office buildings four or five stories tall, was surrounded by miles of residential homes.
“It’s just around the next corner,” Emily advised, tapping the phone book’s map.
“All right, be ready for anything. Like we talked about, we’re going to try to get inside with these uniforms, then get ourselves on television. By force, if needed. Then we scoot on out of there.” Saying it out loud made it seem a bit ham-handed, but he was of the opinion there was no other way to get on the air. He was convinced there was an NSA field office monitoring every transmission happening anywhere inside the United States. If they got a message out, no matter how brief, it would be heard by the right people. That alone would bring the bad guys running.
The target building was two-stories high and about a hundred yards long, with off-street parking all along the entire face of it. When everyone disappeared, there had been a good number of people inside, if the number of cars in the lot was any indication. Or, a lot of cars had driven up…
“I don’t think we should take our rifles inside,” he said. “Pistols only.”
Emily didn’t seem surprised. They’d done the same when they went into the server building back at the Minot Air Force Base. He was about to compliment her for rolling with all his changes, but he caught sight of motion in his peripheral vision.
“Wait!” he whispered a second before she opened her door.
She whipped her head toward him, then she followed his eyes to the two people coming out of the Southern Solar affiliate studio. The two men walked with video equipment, including a big news camera. They moved with haste to a white van that was obviously used for on-location reporting.
“When they’re gone, we’ll go inside.”
“Or we could follow them,” Emily replied, her voice steeped with conspiracy. “See what they’re going to film.”
“Why would we do that?” he wondered aloud.
She sat low in her seat, as if the men might be looking for her. “If they’re doing a live broadcast somewhere, it might be easier to get on their camera than if we fought our way inside this building to do the same thing.”
“You think they’re going to be live?” It did make sense logically. Any enemy coming to America would have a lot of ground to cover communicating with their own troops. Jayden Phillips, aka David, and his Southern Cross Industries already had a ready-made comms system. His digital-TV platform beamed the signal down from solar-powered aircraft, which were presumably still flying. The camera guys were proof the Fort Collins station was operational, and wherever they were headed, they were likely going to be live and on the air.
“It’s a risk,” Emily replied. “But it’s probably less of a risk than sneaking inside and dealing with people in charge. Besides, if we don’t like where they go, we can always come bac
k here, since we now know where it is.”
He couldn’t argue with her logic. By the time they’d discussed it, the two men had pulled away in the TV truck. He started the SUV and followed at a distance.
The van drove through the empty downtown of Fort Collins. Lots of cars remained in their diagonal parking spaces in front of the little stores, but a tractor had come through and shoved the derelict vehicles out of the main route. Lots of shirts, hats, and every color of underwear had collected against storefronts on the east side of the avenue, as if a westerly wind shoved them all there. However, heavy shoes remained in the street gutters, and on the sidewalks. The breeze was unable to move them.
After passing through the dense part of the city, the TV van headed along a four-lane roadway with a central median lined with giant, leafy trees. He took his eyes off the van for a few seconds to admire the quaint imagery of the pleasant street, but when he looked back to the road, the van’s brake lights flared.
“Oh, shit,” he said, hitting his brakes and angling the truck toward the shoulder.
“They saw us,” Emily deadpanned.
“Are you sure?” He’d asked the question almost at the same time as the driver of the van held out his arm and motioned for him to pull alongside. He then answered his own question. “Yeah, you’re sure.”
He was faced with a difficult choice. If they drove away, it would lead to questions. If they went alongside them, it might expose who they were.
Ted put it back in gear and slow-rolled the hundred yards. “I don’t suppose you have your handcrafted mask from when we were in New York, do you?” She’d torn a woman’s blouse to make masks to keep them hidden. It didn’t surprise him she hadn’t kept hers.
“No, but I do have this.” She reached behind her seat and grabbed one of the T-shirts she’d taken from the shop at Devils Tower. “Can you rip it?”
She handed the light blue shirt to him. He had to put his foot on the brake, but he was able to rip the cheap material in a few seconds. The torn piece was roughly square, which was what she needed to wrap it around her neck, then cover her nose and mouth. “If anyone asks, I’ve got the flu.”