Convergence

by Frank L. Williams

  “Give me a heads-up before you go up onto the trail again,” Jack said. “I’ll get up there well in advance and stay out of sight. Maybe we can corner him and talk to him. He’s probably just a nosy busybody, but it never hurts to make sure.”

  Joshua thanked Jack and returned to his cabin, where Rebecca was watching a newscast.

  “I’m amazed this satellite still works,” Joshua said.

  “We’d be in the dark without it,” Rebecca said. “On that note, the attack you saw yesterday wasn’t the only one in the area. AIS blew up a church in Hendersonville, and they captured a dam in northern Georgia.”

  “So much for the relative peace we’ve had for the past eight months,” Joshua said. “What dam?”

  “I think they said Carters Dam.”

  “That’s a little over two hours away, but still too close for comfort.”

  ***

  10:15 a.m. – Fontana Dam

  Caroline Edwards made her way to the tiny, cramped living quarters in the camper trailer that she and Perry had called home for the past twenty months. The interior of the camper was defined by a gloomy darkness matched only by the empty loneliness Caroline felt here. While this was her home, it didn’t feel like much of one.

  She quietly unzipped the outer pocket on her backpack and removed a small, folding wallet. She opened it, revealing a worn picture of her two beautiful children, Charlie and Allie. A flood of emotions washed over her as she studied the picture. She lifted her eyes from the picture and studied her reflection in the mirror. Her Auburn hair, which was always perfectly styled prior to the attacks, was in a ponytail, and her once-piercing green eyes were dull with sadness.

  As Caroline closed her eyes and heaved a deep sigh, an array of memories flashed through her consciousness. Holding her firstborn, Charlie, in the delivery room. Charlie looking on as she cradled Allie for the first time. Tears streamed down Caroline’s face as she visualized Charlie’s first tee-ball game and Allie’s first dance recital. She felt her heart race as she recalled waving goodbye on February 23, 2017 as her children and her parents departed for a favorite pizza restaurant in downtown Raleigh. That was the last time she had laid eyes on them. The flow of tears accelerated as the image of a nuclear blast over Raleigh flashed through her mind. Then images of her children and parents being consumed by the nuclear fire. She clenched her fists as she recalled the AIS Supreme Leader defiantly promising to establish an Islamic caliphate on American soil. Caroline opened her eyes and glared at her reflection in the mirror, her mind consumed by the desire for revenge against the terrorist scum who had killed her babies.

  CHAPTER 3

  Thursday, October 11, 2018 – 9:00 a.m. – Texas State Capitol

  The 80-inch screen flared to life as Melanie took the seat beside Brandon in the conference room. A partially bald man in a green and khaki uniform who appeared to be in his mid-50s appeared on the screen, flanked by two similarly dressed men: one of Asian descent, the other a Caucasian with light brown hair and wire-rim glasses.

  Governor Harper opened the discussion. “General Cloos, you requested this meeting. What is this about?”

  Governor, I understand you have a big event coming up.

  Melanie squirmed in her seat. That guy seems a bit gruff.

  Governor Harper leaned toward the screen, which was also home to the secure webcam. “Let me guess, you’re calling to tell us we’d better cancel it? I can assure you that’s not happening.”

  Way to stand your ground, Melanie thought. Don’t let this guy push you around.

  Cloos blew a puff of cigar smoke toward the screen. That’s not at all why I’m calling, although I can understand it being your first reaction. We all have a lot to be suspicious of these days.

  Harper leaned back and scratched his chin. “Then why did you request this meeting?”

  Governor, like you I am concerned about what’s left of our country. Armando is running a rogue administration that is effectively little more than a de facto dictatorship. I believe he is not in control of his own administration, and he needs to be stopped before he finishes what AIS started. You seem to be a man who is committed to what our country is supposed to be, and I thought you could use an ally.

  The conference room fell eerily silent, and all eyes fixated on Governor Harper. The governor rested his chin in his hand, his thousand-yard stare focused on the screen in front of him. Cloos silently returned the stare. Melanie briefly made eye contact with Brandon, whose eyebrows were furrowed.

  Harper broke the silence after what seemed like an eternity. “General, I’d like to believe everything you just said, but how do I know you’re not playing me? How do I know you’re not one of Armando’s henchmen?”

  You don’t, Cloos fired back. And I don’t know that you’re not in this to replace him as the next dictator. So I guess were both going to have to operate on some degree of faith. Cloos gestured toward the Asian man seated to his right. Depending upon the location and timing, I’d like to send Major Michael Chinn to your event. There is no agenda other than to make a connection and show our support. He will also be available to help in any way you need.

  “I’m not about to give out the location and details over this broadcast,” Harper said.

  And that’s good thinking, Cloos said. We will provide you with the number for a secure satellite phone.

  ***

  Saturday, October 13, 2018 – 11:25 a.m. – Fontana Dam

  Joshua made the trek up the Appalachian Trail to one of the secluded spots where he often went to clear his head and think. He found it refreshing to get away from the camp and just be alone with nature and, of course, his trusty canine sidekick, Reagan.

  However, today’s trip was about more than simply getting away from the camp. He hoped he would again run into the man who identified himself as Mordecai Stone. The trip up the mountain yielded no such encounter.

  After spending some much-needed alone time on the mountainside, Joshua made the trek down the winding trail toward the camp. As he reached the edge of the clearing he unsnapped his holster and kept his hand near his Beretta. The waist-high grass on either side of the trail swayed gently in the breeze as they began making their way across the clearing. Reagan led the way, trotting about ten feet ahead of Joshua. There was no sound other than the breeze and a few chirping crickets.

  Suddenly Reagan froze and started growling, his tail sticking straight up in the air. Joshua felt the hair stand up on his neck as he drew his 9mm and dropped to one knee. “What is it, boy?”

  Two shadowy figures clothed in black robes and balaclava masks rose from the tall grass about thirty feet ahead of them, their rifles trained on Joshua, screaming something in Arabic. Reagan charged and clamped his jaws around the leg of the terrorist on the left. His enraged growl echoed like something out of a horror movie.

  Joshua fired off a round from his 9mm, connecting with the left shoulder of the terrorist on the right. As the man recoiled Joshua saw the other terrorist kick Reagan, sending him over the edge of the embankment.

  Joshua felt a surge of white-hot rage. “You kicked my dog!” He fired off two rounds, hitting the terrorist in the abdomen and the neck. The militant fell and breathed his last as blood spewed from his carotid artery.

  Joshua’s stomach clenched as he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. The other terrorist had his rifle trained on him, and another terrorist had appeared out of nowhere. Joshua flinched as he heard a loud THWACK! The second terrorist fell. Joshua heard another THWACK, and the third terrorist fell. Both men had been fatally impaled with what appeared to be arrows.

  “Joshua, it’s me. Don’t shoot.” The familiar voice seemed to materialize out of the mountainside.

  Jack stood up, revealing his position in the tall grass. Thanks to Jack’s ghillie suit Joshua had not seen him. Apparently, neither had the terrorists. “I’m glad you asked me to come up here. That was a close call.” Jack slung the crossbow over his shoulder, retrieved the bol
t from the first terrorist’s corpse, then stepped toward the second body.

  “Indeed,” Joshua said. “Thanks for saving my neck.”

  A limping but still-growling Reagan climbed back onto the trail and made a beeline for the corpse of the terrorist who had kicked him. The angry canine hiked his leg and urinated on the dead militant’s face.

  “Good boy,” Joshua said.

  “How’d you train him to do that?” Jack asked. “That’s quite a talent.”

  “It comes naturally.” Joshua chuckled. “At least we know what’s been spooking him in this clearing.” Joshua pointed at the dead terrorists. As he finished the sentence he spotted another sudden, unexpected movement. Horror shot through him like a bolt of lightning – the same hopeless feeling he had when the terrorist who killed Bob Kendall eight months earlier appeared out of nowhere. Two more shadowy figures were in the clearing behind Jack, raising their rifles toward him. “Jack! Behind you!”

  Jack spun toward the two terrorists. Before he could act, Joshua heard the sound of two bullets piercing the air. Each shot removed a terrorist’s head.

  Jack trained his crossbow on the two terrorists as their dead bodies collapsed onto the mountainside. He stood silently for what seemed like an eternity, then said, “Those shots came from up on the mountain! Who did that?”

  Reagan pointed at a mysterious distant point on the mountainside and let off a low, uninterrupted growl. His tail pointed straight up.

  “So much for knowing what spooked him,” Jack said.

  Joshua dug his telescope out of his backpack and surveyed the mountainside. Jack did the same with his rifle scope. Neither saw anything.

  “I have a hunch as to what he sees up there,” Joshua said. “Or, more correctly, who he sees.”

  “The crazy old man?”

  “That’s my bet,” Joshua said.

  “Well, if whoever is up there wanted us dead, we’d be dead,” Jack said.

  After a few minutes Reagan’s agitation subsided. He curled up on the trail and started whimpering.

  Joshua knelt down beside him. “Are you okay, boy?”

  “That terrorist kicked him pretty hard,” Jack observed. “Looked like he got him in the ribcage.”

  Joshua tried to put his hand on the dog’s abdomen, only to be rebuffed by a gentle snap and a not-so-gentle-sounding growl. “I’m not sure he’s going to make it back down the trail.”

  “We can make a small stretcher and carry him down on that,” Jack said. “Then we need to come back up here and get rid of these bodies. You stay here with him and I’ll find materials for the stretcher.”

  Jack disappeared into the edge of the woods. Joshua rubbed Reagan’s head. The dog nuzzled his snout against Joshua’s leg, still whimpering. “I’m sorry, boy. We’ll get you home and take care of you.”

  Jack returned with two long sticks and a number of long, thick vines. He removed his ghillie suit and secured it to the two poles with twine from his utility pack. The suit was made primarily of burlap and was more than enough to transport the injured 50-pound canine.

  “Now let’s get you on this stretcher,” Joshua said. As he reached for Reagan the dog growled and snapped, barely missing Joshua’s hand.

  “Can you keep him calm for a minute?” Jack asked. Joshua nodded and stroked the dog’s back. Reagan responded by nuzzling against Joshua’s leg. Jack retrieved an elastic bandage from his pack, wrapped it around the dog’s snout and secured it. Reagan growled and tried to bite as they picked him up, but the bandage prevented him from being able to land a blow. They gently lowered him onto the stretcher.

  “Let’s give him a minute to calm down before we head down,” Joshua said. He scratched the dog’s ears and rubbed his head, waiting until he stopped growling to remove the bandage. After a few minutes, they began the arduous process of taking the injured canine back to the camp.

  An hour later Joshua and Jack made their way back up the trail, bringing Perry and Jim with them. Joshua had felt the need to inform those in the camp about the attack. Everyone was naturally alarmed, and Joshua instructed Chuck Jones to take the lead in guarding the camp while they were gone, with assistance from Tommy Page and Billy McGee.

  Jack drew his weapon as they approached the clearing. “The bodies are right around this corner. Everyone be alert.”

  When they rounded the corner, they saw several spots where blood had been spilled, but the terrorists’ bodies were nowhere to be found.

  “What in the world?” Joshua wondered aloud. “Who else would want to move the bodies?”

  “And how did they do it so quickly?” Perry pondered.

  Jack pointed up the mountainside. “Maybe whoever – or whatever – is up there watching us.”

  ***

  Sunday, October 14, 2018 – 1:25 p.m. – Fontana Dam

  The next day, Joshua and Jack made their way up the trail to the clearing, then slowly began climbing the mountain toward the mysterious point on which Reagan had fixated a day earlier. The ascent was an arduous one, and they stopped numerous times to rest.

  “I sure hope this guy is up here,” Jack said between labored breaths during one of the breaks. “It would be a shame to climb all the way up here for nothing.”

  “The question is, what do we do if we find him?” Joshua wondered aloud.

  “I’ll get him to talk,” Jack said.

  After another 15 minutes they came to a small plateau, where they found a pile of freshly carved wood shavings beside a stump that appeared to have been used as a stool.

  Jack examined the wood shavings, then surveyed the area. “Well, someone has been here.”

  “But no sign of Mordecai,” Joshua said.

  Jack shook his head, then sat down on the stump. Joshua leaned against a tree, trying to catch his breath. “That was quite a climb.”

  “And all for naught,” Jack said.

  “Not so, sonny,” another voice chimed in. Joshua and Jack spun as Mordecai emerged from behind a tree. “It’s ‘bout time you boys made it up here. Your dog has a better eye than either of you’uns.”

  “How did you sneak up on us like that?” Jack asked.

  “You’re welcome, sonny,” Mordecai answered dryly. “I don’t even get a thank you for taking out those jihadis that were gonna kill you boys?”

  “Who are you?” Joshua asked. “And what do you want?”

  “Name’s Mordecai Stone. And I want the same thing you want.”

  “And what do you think we want?” Joshua pressed the issue.

  “You want your country back,” Mordecai said. “And you want these jihadis gone.”

  Jack took a step toward Mordecai. “You’re coming with us, old man.”

  Mordecai raised his hands in front of his chest. “Don’t try it, sonny. I’m on your side.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have any problem coming with us.”

  Jack tried to grab Mordecai’s forearm. The old man grabbed Jack’s wrist, bent it backward and kicked his legs out from under him. As Jack crashed to the ground Joshua felt a boot impact his chest. The swift, violent kick knocked the wind out of him. His body was airborne for a moment, and then his back violently crashed to the ground.

  “I’m on your side, but you will not take me into custody,” Mordecai said. “And you should watch your backs. You do have a mole in your camp.” And with that the old man disappeared into the thick woods.

  ***

  Wednesday, October 17, 2018 – 6:30 p.m. – Watts Bar Lake, TN

  Melanie, Brandon and the rest of Governor Harper’s entourage arrived at the secluded cabin on the banks of Watts Bar Lake in eastern Tennessee that would serve as the venue for the summit with like-minded governors from around the nation. The Governor of Tennessee had suggested the location, and Governor Harper felt it was a suitable, accessible but out-of-the-way location for those he was inviting.

  Melanie felt goosebumps form on her neck as she stood with her back to the lake, surveying the cabin and surround
ing property. This is where we begin taking our nation back.

  The Governor of Tennessee was on hand to welcome them, and the Governors of South Carolina, Georgia and Louisiana had already arrived. At Governor Harper’s direction, Melanie had discreetly contacted numerous other governors and dignitaries and invited them to attend the summit, and many were expected to arrive later in the day. Brandon had arranged for the event to be streamed on a secure website and provided to news outlets for a live broadcast.

  “This is historic,” Melanie whispered to Brandon as they walked across the yard toward the stage in the open field where the summit would be held. “We’re going to change the course of our nation.”

  She felt an emotional charge as Brandon grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Let’s hope so,” he said.

  As they reached the staging area they were joined by Governor Harper and Chief of Staff Heather Tate.

  Governor Harper was fixated on an American flag and Tennessee flag that were whipping in the wind. “This is it,” he said. “This is where it begins.”

  As the governor finished speaking a tall, slender young man in his early twenties approached them. The young man had short brown hair and at least a day’s growth of facial hair. He had a scar on his upper left cheek. He was followed by a stocky man of Asian descent who stood about 5’8” and wore neatly pressed khaki cargo pants, a dark green shirt and black baseball cap.

  “Governor Harper, I’m Craig Shackleton,” the young man introduced himself. “And this is U.S. Marine Corps Major Michael Chinn from Camp Lejeune. He said you would be expecting him?”

  “I am indeed.” Governor Harper extended his hand. “Major, thank you for being here.”

  Craig smiled and made eye contact with Melanie before turning and walking away.

  Major Chinn extended his hand. “Thank you, Governor. General Cloos shares your belief that it’s up to us to save our country, and that it’s now or never. I am honored that he chose to send me here.”

  “We’re glad to have you.” The governor stroked his chin, as if deep in thought. “During our videoconference your General said he doesn’t believe Armando is in control of his own administration.”