“That bad, huh?” The voice jarred her out of her moment of self-pity.
“I guess I don’t have much of a poker face,” she answered.
“None whatsoever.” Craig poured himself a cup without asking permission, then inhaled a huge gulp of the caffeinated liquid.
“How can people drink this stuff black?” Melanie asked.
“You get used to it,” he said.
“I guess so,” she answered. “I’m going outside for a bit. Just need to think.”
“Suit yourself.”
She took her still-steaming cup and exited through the door facing the Tellico River. A thick, haunting fog hung over the water, and the handrails on the deck were still damp from the morning dew. Melanie made the lonely walk to the end of the dock and seated herself on a bench with her knees elevated in front of her. She heard the sound of a boat passing on the river, but was unable to discern its form amid the thick fog.
Melanie felt a tear trickle down her cheek. I am all alone, she thought. My country is lost. My heroes are gone. All of my friends are dead. She closed her eyes, put her head on her knees and let the tears come. The flow of pent-up grief rivaled that of the river beneath the dock. After what seemed like an hour she raised her head and noticed the sun beginning to pierce the previously impenetrable fog. She heaved a deep sigh and sat in silence.
A few minutes later she heard footsteps behind her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I really don’t want to deal with Craig right now.
“Melanie, are you okay?” The voice that pierced the silence belonged to Major Chinn.
Melanie turned to face him. “I am. Thanks for checking on me.”
“I have some news for you,” Chinn said. “General Cloos had one of his contacts check on your parents. They are safe, and they are moving to an alternate location. They sent word to tell you they’d be at the farm, and that you’d know what that meant.”
Melanie leapt to her feet and embraced Major Chinn, her tears transforming to ones of joy. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She released the embrace. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to be awkward.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m just so happy to have some good news. THANK YOU for asking him to check on them.”
“You are welcome,” he responded in a monotone voice. “The three of us need to discuss where we go from here. You don’t have to do so immediately, but please come inside within the hour.”
***
9:46 a.m. – Fontana Dam
Joshua looked on as Caroline disassembled his satellite receiver. Perry returned from the kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee and claimed an open chair across the room. Caroline opened up a small tablet computer, plugged it into a power outlet, and connected a cable from the tablet the cable box.
“She knows what she’s doing.” Beaming, Perry gestured in the direction of his wife.
“That makes one of us.” Rebecca entered the room and positioned herself on the couch beside Joshua and rested her hand on his thigh. “Caroline, I never fully understood what you did at work.”
“That’s because a lot of it was highly confidential.” Caroline opened an application on the tablet and began typing furiously. “We worked for clients who, let’s just say, didn’t want the world to know what they were up to.”
After a few minutes Caroline disconnected the tablet and reconnected the satellite receiver to the television. She flipped to through the American news channels, all of which came through clearly. “Now let’s see if this worked.” She grabbed the remote and changed the channel. An anchor speaking in a British accent appeared, and a BBC logo was displayed on the screen.
“Impressive,” Joshua said.
“If you need something hacked, she’s your girl,” Perry said.
Joshua flipped to one of the national news channels. The anchor relayed a report that hit close to home: A planned AIS attack in the western North Carolina town of Bryson City was thwarted yesterday. While there has been no official statement, sources tell us that the Armando administration’s Homeland Security Police were responsible for stopping the attack.
“Somehow I don’t buy that.” Joshua switched the channel. “Let’s see what BBC has to say.”
The BBC announcer offered a different take: According to sources on the ground in western North Carolina, a group of local citizens took it upon themselves to combat a planned AIS terrorist attack in Bryson City. When the terrorists showed up at a local church, the citizen vigilantes reportedly killed them all and hung their bodies from signposts outside of the town.
“Those two accounts couldn’t be more different,” Rebecca said. “I think you were right about the media being taken over by the Armando administration.”
***
1:45 p.m. – Virginia Beach
Benjamin looked up from his notes as President Armando turned to Abdar. “Do we have any intelligence on who stopped the AIS attack in Bryson City?”
“None at this time, sir, but we are working on it,” Abdar replied.
“You’re always ‘working on it,’ but you never get anything done,” Anthony interjected.
Abdar shot up out of his seat, but Armando interrupted him. “Russo, that was uncalled for.”
“My apologies, Mr. President,” Anthony said. “I would be remiss if I didn’t inform you that our man, Austin Phillips, is on the ground in that area. He has a team, and they will find out who did this. They are also searching for Drew Thompson. Mr. Phillips is available by videoconference now if you’d like to speak to him directly.”
“Thank you, Russo,” Armando replied. “Please conference him in.”
Anthony motioned to one of the aides seated at the far end of the conference table. The video screen flared to life, revealing a man with black hair highlighted by streaks of gray. Hello, Mr. President, the man on the screen said with a slight southern drawl.
“Good morning,” Armando said. “So you’re Austin Phillips. I hope you’re prepared to walk on water after all of the praise Russo has heaped on you.”
Austin chuckled. I just want to do the best I can to help repair our nation.
Armando leaned toward the webcam. “How do we know where your loyalties lie?”
My loyalty is to the United States of America, Austin answered. You are the president, so that means my loyalties lie with you.
Armando reclined in his chair and scratched his chin. “Very well.”
“Austin has the connections and network to help us in that part of North Carolina,” Anthony interjected. “If anyone can root out the vigilante domestic terrorists and find Drew Thompson, it’s Austin Phillips.”
“We shall see.” Armando motioned for the aide to end the videoconference.
Benjamin raised his hand as the screen faded to black. “Mr. President?”
“What is it, Liebowitz?”
“I’m sure Mr. Phillips is capable, and I don’t doubt that he has a solid network in western North Carolina, but should we be doing more to combat the growing AIS presence there?”
Abdar again launched out of his seat. “I will deal with that!”
Benjamin raised his hands in front of him. “Abdar, if you’ll give me a moment and let me finish, I think you’ll find out we agree on this issue.” He turned to face the president. “Mr. President, I agree with Abdar that we need to use the military to combat AIS. While the Federal Protective Service has a role, it’s not enough.”
Armando leaned back in his seat and rested his chin on his right hand. Benjamin continued: “As I’ve stated in the past, people are taking the law into their own hands because they don’t see us doing anything. They don’t think they have a choice.”
Anthony raised his hand. “Mr. President, I stand by my previous statements that we would be overstepping our bounds if we utilize military personnel in this fashion, on our own soil.”
Armando raised his right hand and the room went silent. “We will give Mr. Phillips a chance to show us what he can do. Russo, make sure h
e has access to all of the personnel he needs.”
“Yes sir,” Russo responded.
Armando rose from his seat. “Meeting adjourned.”
The president made his way to Benjamin as the others filed out of the room. “Liebowitz, I don’t want you to think your points are not valid. They are well taken, but so are those raised by Russo and Abdar.” Armando extended his hand.
“Thank you, Mr. President.” Benjamin accepted the president’s handshake and they both turned toward the exit. “How is the First Lady?”
Armando looked down at the floor. “She’s well.”
***
5:54 p.m. – US 129 near Chilhowee, TN
Melanie silently stared out the window as the mountainside whizzed by. Major Chinn guided the Explorer down Route 72 toward the North Carolina state line. Craig sat silently in the back seat.
After a few miles Chinn broke the silence. “Craig, are you sure about this? You just want me to drop you off at the Appalachian Trail and you’ll find your way home?”
“Absolutely certain,” Craig said resolutely. “It won’t be a problem.”
“I’ll give you a satphone so you can reach me if you run into trouble.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“It’s not negotiable.” Chinn turned around and briefly made eye contact with Craig. “Besides, I’d like to have a way to reach you in the future.”
Melanie turned around and looked at Craig. “So would I.”
Craig grinned. “I knew you’d come around.”
Major Chinn audibly snickered.
“You’re just jealous Major,” Craig said.
Chinn shook his head. “You two are so young and naïve.”
“Not naïve,” Craig retorted. “Just not cynical. I still have hope for us.”
“Us?” Melanie cocked an eyebrow.
“Us,” Craig restated. “America.”
Melanie pursed her lips as she turned and again fixated on sights outside the vehicle. The last person I dared to admit I liked was blown to smithereens right before my eyes. I shouldn’t be attracted to this guy. I don’t even know him. It’s not worth it. Not now.
A few miles later Craig leaned forward and pointed to a building ahead on the right. “Stop here if you don’t mind.”
Major Chinn wheeled the Explorer into the gravel parking lot. The white wooden building was marked with a sign displaying bold red letters that simply read “Guns. Ammo. Tactical.” The vehicle was barely stopped when Craig jumped out and entered the store, followed by Chinn and Melanie.
Melanie watched as Craig methodically selected items from the shelves: ammunition for his .357, a large black knife with a serrated blade, a compass, a sleeping bag, rain gear, a Duluth backpack with a metal frame, a small, dark green haversack, a folding hand saw, a hatchet, a spool of rope and a set of outdoor cooking utensils. This guy doesn’t seem fazed by anything, she thought. He handed the shopkeeper something wrapped in paper as payment for the goods, and the shopkeeper provided him with four jars filled with clear liquid.
Major Chinn acquired ammunition for his Glock 19, and the group returned to the Explorer and resumed their eastward trek, Craig began packing the items he had purchased in his backpack and haversack.
“What’s in the jars?” Melanie asked.
“A little something for the trip,” Craig answered.
Chinn chuckled. “Moonshine?”
Craig smirked, but did not answer.
They crossed the North Carolina state line and continued on Highway 129, then turned right onto Route 28. The winding two-lane road paralleled the Little Tennessee River as it climbed the mountain.
After about 18 miles they turned left. A few minutes later Fontana Dam came into view. The sun was beginning to set as Major Chinn pulled into a parking lot just east of the dam. “The Appalachian Trail crosses the dam,” he said. “I’ll ask one more time, are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely.” Craig opened his door and exited the vehicle. Chinn and Melanie followed suit.
“Take this with you.” Chinn handed Craig a satellite phone and charger. “It’s fully charged, and it’s secure. Not on a U.S. government channel. I recommend keeping it powered off unless you absolutely need it. My number is programmed in.”
“Thank you, sir.” Craig extended his hand.
“Glad to help.” Chinn accepted the handshake. “You seem like a tough cookie. Take care of yourself, and check in with me and let me know how you’re doing.”
“Will do.” Craig turned to face Melanie. “Well, I guess this is it.” He extended his hand.
A handshake? Melanie grabbed his hand, pulled him toward her and hugged him tightly. “Maybe not. You take care of yourself.”
“I will, and you do the same,” he said.
Melanie felt a spark as Craig’s right hand touched the small of her back and he cupped her head with his left. She leaned back and gazed into his eyes. “How can we contact you?”
“I have the number to his satphone,” Major Chinn interjected. “Craig, with your permission I will give it to her.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Melanie felt herself blush as Craig blew her a kiss, then pulled his backpack over his shoulders and started toward the dam.
“He’s a cocky little bastard, isn’t he?” Major Chinn asked with a chuckle as he opened the Explorer door and climbed in. “Let’s go.”
Melanie silently returned to the passenger seat. Why am I so upset that he’s leaving? Get it together, Mel.
Major Chinn fired up the engine. “So you’re sure there isn’t somewhere you want me to take you?”
Melanie leaned her head back, closed her eyes and heaved a deep sigh. “I don’t have any connections to this area. None. My family is nowhere near here.”
“Then stick with me for now. I’ll keep you safe and we’ll figure something out.”
“Where are we going now?”
“General Cloos arranged for us to have access to a cabin at Fontana Village. We passed it a few minutes ago. It’s just a few miles back down 28.”
CHAPTER 5
Monday, October 22, 2018 – 10:54 a.m. – Fontana Dam
Two days later, Joshua, Perry, Jack and Thomas made the trip to the local exchange. The U.S. dollar was now essentially worthless, and the exchange was an outdoor barter market that had sprung up in the wake of the terrorist attacks. Farmers and anyone else who had something of value to offer traded their goods at the exchange.
After arriving at the market Joshua, Thomas, Perry and Jack unloaded their valuables from the back of Thomas’ white Suburban. Items they brought to trade included three dozen eggs, venison from one of Jack’s kills, eight five-gallon jugs of gasoline from the tanker Drew had secured and hidden in their camp, two dozen trout, six hens, ten heads of cabbage and a dozen live rabbits. The eggs, meat and fish were iced down in old coolers, a nice perk given that people living farther away from the dam had no electricity.
Joshua noticed Jack suddenly perk up. “What is it?” he asked.
Jack nodded in the direction of a stocky Asian man in khaki cargo pants and a dark green shirt. The man was accompanied by an attractive, petite woman with reddish-blonde hair and piercing green eyes who appeared to be at least fifteen years younger than him.
“What about them?” Joshua asked.
“I haven’t seen them here before,” Jack said. “And they look like an odd pair.”
“That doesn’t automatically mean they’re up to something.”
“No, but it does mean they bear keeping an eye on. And something about that guy is familiar. My instincts tell me he’s not someone to take lightly.”
“Man, I’m sure they’re fine.” Thomas removed his beat-up tan baseball cap and used it to scratch his head.
“Thomas, with all due respect you tend to give everyone the benefit of the doubt,” Jack said. “We can’t afford to let our guard down.”
As Jack finished speaking Josh
ua realized the man and woman were walking toward them. Jack visibly tensed up and reached for his pocket. Joshua made eye contact with him and shook his head, and Jack pursed his lips and dropped his hand to his side.
“Gentlemen, my name is Michael.” The man pointed toward one of the merchant booths. “Those guys said you might have some gasoline you’d be willing to part with.”
“Nice to meet you, Michael.” Joshua extended his hand. “That depends. What do you have to trade?”
“Not a lot,” Michael replied. “We didn’t expect to be here. But I do have some ammo.”
“What kind?” Jack asked.
“40 caliber.”
Jack looked at Joshua and nodded.
“I think we can work something out,” Joshua said. “Let’s have a look at the ammo.”
“No problem. And I’d like to check out the gas cans.”
After the two parties examined each other’s wares Joshua traded three five-gallon cans of gasoline for 300 rounds of 40 caliber ammunition. The man who called himself Michael shook everyone’s hands and took the gas cans to his vehicle. The young woman silently followed him.
Once they were out of earshot Jack looked at Joshua. “Something still doesn’t sit right about that guy.”
“Keep an eye on them while we’re here, but don’t make a scene,” Joshua said.
Jack nodded and began perusing a vendor table two down from the one where Michael was studying a large knife. Joshua shook his head and went to the opposite side of the open-air market with Perry and Thomas in tow.
“Man, Jack sure is paranoid lately,” Thomas said. “He’s wound a bit tight.”
“He’s just looking out for us,” Perry said.
“We’ve all learned the hard way what happens when we get too comfortable,” Joshua added. “Jack is just being extra vigilant, and that’s a good thing.”
Joshua negotiated with one of the vendors to trade two dozen eggs, the remaining jugs of gasoline, all six hens, two female rabbits and one male rabbit for virtually every edible portion of what was purported to be a 600-pound hog.
The men loaded their acquisitions into Thomas’ Suburban and began their trek back to the camp. Joshua’s stomach twisted when they rounded the first curve after leaving the community market. Thomas slowed the vehicle as they approached a roadblock comprised of three white SUVs bearing the U.S. Department of Homeland Security Federal Protective Service logo. Six armed agents in black uniforms were fanned out across the road.
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