Fade Out (57 page)

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Authors: Patrick Tilley

BOOK: Fade Out
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‘How big do they say this blast's going to be?'

The smile faded from Hiller's face. ‘Gonna take out our whole ranch. Probably burn off all the grass too. Won't be nothin' left of that. They say we can move back in again in three weeks' time. But, hell – what to? And you know who's behind all this? The damn Rooshians. That's who it is.'

‘Yeah, the government ought to do somethin' about that,' said Volkert.

‘Oh, that side's okay. The way they're talkin' we're gonna get paid twice over – but goddammit, I already had the place burned down once. We just got it all put back together. Makes me madder'n hell.'

‘Maggie must be pretty upset too.'

‘That's only the half of it. What about the land? Forty years we've been workin' that. They say it won't, but how do they know this blast ain't gonna poison everythin'?'

‘I guess we just have to hope the government knows what it's doin',' said Volkert. He drove on.

As he reached the abandoned site of the old post office at Maudlin and turned east towards Highway 22, an Army helicopter swooped low over the roof of the patrol car, circled round and hovered alongside long enough to read the words ‘County Sheriffs Office' on the side of the car. The copilot of the Iroquois gave him a thumbs-up as they lifted up and banked away to the left.

Volkert parked outside Annie's Mercantile and General Store and went in to buy his usual Sunday gift of ice cream. Most of the goods had been cleared from the
shelves and packed into cartons piled up on the floor, but the big deep freeze cabinet was still humming quietly to keep itself cool. Annie came through from the house and put a bundle of bedding on top of a wooden crate full of pots and pans.

‘Still open for business?'

‘For as long as we're here,' said Annie. ‘If you can find it, you can buy it.'

‘Know where they're takin' you?'

‘I did hear somebody say Jordan. You come to pick up Laura?'

‘I just dropped by to see if she was okay. Give me a pint of that strawberry ripple.'

The clock in the store started to strike nine. Volkert glanced up at the wall but there was only a white circle where the clock had been. The chimes were drowned out by the deep-throated roar of a heavy truck.

Volkert peered out of the window. ‘They come for you already?'

Annie didn't look round. ‘That's one of the diesels from Crow Ridge. ‘Spect there'll be a plane comin' in soon.'

Annie went over to the freezer. As she opened the lid to get out the ice cream, the freezer's motor stopped.

‘Now what in the world do you think's wrong with that?'

‘Sign in the window's gone out too,' said Volkert. He switched on the neon tube hanging from the roof of the long poky store. It didn't light up. ‘Must be a power line down.'

‘I'll go and start the jenny,' said Annie. ‘I've got three hundred dollars' worth of food in there and I got meat down in the cellar. Don't know we're going to get that away without spoiling.' She wrapped up the ice cream in a couple of sheets of the
Miles City Star.
‘A dollar.'

Volkert paid and stepped outside. Sid Lindstrom, Annie's husband, was thumping one of the two old pumps in front of the store. He'd been gassing up a beige Subaru station wagon with Idaho plates. It was crammed with a family all wearing stetsons. Volkert walked over.

‘No use beating it, Sid. You got a power line out. Annie's down starting the generator.'

‘Hope she remembers the tank's empty.' Lindstrom turned to the big red-faced driver of the Subaru. ‘Back up over to the hand pump there and I'll give you the other five.'

The driver turned the ignition key. The Subaru's starter motor turned over, the engine fired briefly, then died. The driver pushed back the brim of his stetson and tried again. This time nothing happened. Volkert stepped in front of the car.

‘Switch on your headlights.'

The lights came on, flared up to a bright yellow four or five times, then cut out.

Volkert slapped the hood and walked back to the car window. ‘Okay, switch 'em off. I hope you ain't in a hurry to get anywhere.'

‘Why?' asked the driver.

“Cos we got all kinds of trouble,' said Volkert. He handed the driver the pack of strawberry ripple. ‘Here – give your kids some ice cream.'

Volkert walked across the road. Laura, the widow he'd come to visit, lived in a big corrugated aluminium trailer set on a concrete base. The curtains had been taken down from the windows. Furniture was piled in the front yard. Volkert went inside.

‘Hi…'

‘Hi, Carl. Won't be no Sunday dinner today.'

‘Yeah, I know. Why didn't you call me?'

‘Couldn't say nothin' to nobody. Didn't they tell you this whole thing is top secret?'

‘Yeah, sure. Everything okay?'

Laura nodded. ‘We had soldiers here yesterday helpin' out.' She closed the door of an empty cupboard. ‘They're comin' back for us later today.'

‘Maybe,' said Volkert. ‘But whatever happens, don't worry. I'll see you get out okay. Where are the boys?'

‘They're around somewhere. Probably over on the fence waitin' to see the plane come in.'

Volkert went back over the road to where the yellow Crow Ridge diesel was parked with its motor idling. It had one of the prefab units loaded on its trailer. Three young men with blue helmets were sitting in the cab.

‘Hi,' said Volkert. ‘You expecting somebody?'

‘Yeah, in about ten minutes,' said the nearest blue hat. He had the name LARSEN stencilled on a white tag over his breast pocket.

‘Well, they may be in trouble,' said Volkert. ‘You know that problem you had on the Ridge?'

‘I'm not too sure what you're talking about,' said Larsen.

‘Listen, sonny, don't bullshit me,' said Volkert. ‘I was the one that found that hole up there. Damn near got my ass burned off. There was nothing able to move around up there, right?'

‘Right,' said Larsen.'

‘Well, you've got the same problem right here. Happened just a few minutes ago.'

Larsen looked at the other two cadets in the cab. They all jumped out. One of them climbed up on top of the roof of the trailer with a pair of binoculars and searched the sky to the north.

‘See anything?' asked Larsen.

‘Nope…'

‘Well, take a good look all the way round. See if you can spot any of those Army helicopters we saw.'

The cadet on the roof of the trailer made a thorough 360-degree search. ‘Nothing up here but me and the birds,' he reported.

Larsen banged his fist on the wing of the truck. ‘Boy – this is really going to bitch things up.'

‘Where're your people coming from?' asked Volkert.

‘Glasgow over to Fort Peck, then due south. If they've gone down, they can't be more than thirty miles away.'

‘Means they could be up near Van Norman…'

‘Do you know this area?' asked Larsen.

‘I can find m'way around,' said Volkert. ‘Want me to come with you?'

‘That would be great.' Larsen called up to the cadet on the trailer roof, ‘Bail out, Zip. We're gonna drive north, look for the plane, and see how far this thing has spread.'

The cadet jumped off the roof of the trailer.

Volkert hurried back to his car, pulled his Winchester from the pocket under the front seat, and grabbed a box of shotgun shells from under the dash. The truck swung around in a wide circle and stopped opposite the store. Sid and the driver of the Jap station wagon had the hood up and their hands full of wires. The rest of the family were still wedged in the car.

The driver spotted Volkert. ‘Hey, wait a minute – '

‘Stick around,' said Volkert. He ran across the road and squeezed into the cab of the truck.

The kids, perched patiently on the fence waiting for the plane to skim over their heads, watched as the truck turned north on to the highway. Annie came out of the store.

‘Sid! Have you been messin' with that jenny again?'

Lindstrom didn't move his head out from under the
Subaru's hood. ‘Did you fill her up?' He checked the lead to the distributor.

“Course I did. I've tried just about everything to get it started and I'm getting nowhere fast.' Annie folded her arms and stayed on the step.

‘Be with you in a minute' Lindstrom checked along the bulkhead in front of the windshield. ‘Why, it looks like you've got a fuse gone there. That's what the trouble is…'

Laura walked across the wide baked-earth street. ‘Did Carl say where he was goin'?'

‘Nope,' said Annie. ‘He just grabbed his shotgun and took off with those three boys up towards Cohagen.'

‘Oh…' Laura looked puzzled. ‘He didn't say anythin' much but I had the feelin' somethin' had gone wrong. Listen, is your phone okay? Mine just went dead.'

‘I'll go and check. Maybe the Army cut it… Did you hear that, Sid? Laura's phone's out.'

‘Be with you in a minute,' said Lindstrom. He turned to the driver. ‘See that? Every goddam fuse has blown clean out. Now just how do you suppose that happened?'

CROW RIDGE/MONTANA

Rizzik, the CIA man running the base camp, sent one of the diesels up to the Ridge with a message for Wedderkind. He was in the command hut. He looked at the message and passed it without comment to Brecetti.

It read: ‘All electric power failed at 9 A.M. No radio or telephone contact with Glasgow AFB or Miles City. Await instructions.'

Brecetti passed it to Lovell. ‘Maybe you'd better let the others know about this.'

Lovell read the message. ‘Mmm. I take it this means we now have an even larger cutoff zone?'

‘It does,' said Wedderkind.

‘That should present us with a few interesting problems.' Lovell pocketed the message and left.

‘Sixty-nine point one miles?'

‘Give or take a few yards,' said Brecetti. ‘Do you want to put ten dollars on it?'

‘No, thanks. You've cleaned me out too often.' Wedderkind led Brecetti into Allbright's empty office and studied the large map on the wall. Wedderkind checked the scale of the map. ‘We may be in luck, but only for the moment. It looks as if the edge of the new zone will still be on the north bank of the Yellowstone.'

‘Leaving Miles City in the clear.'

‘Yes – but only just.' Wedderkind looped one end of his handkerchief around a finger and the other around a ballpoint pen. He measured off thirty-five miles and drew a circle around Crow Ridge.

As predicted, the edge of the circle fell short of Miles City but overlapped the airport and several small settlements between Miles City and Forsyth. The biggest place within the enlarged cutoff zone was Cohagen, about twenty-five miles north of Crow Ridge. Population, two hundred and fifty.

Brecetti tapped the name on the map. ‘They must be wondering what hit them.'

‘So must Bob. He was due at Broken Mill at ten minutes past nine.'

‘My God, yes – of course. Would the plane be all right?'

‘It depends which part he was flying over. I saw some really desolate country south of the Fort Peck reservoir. One of the pilots told me it could take two days to walk out of the area. Provided you land in one piece. It'll be a light aircraft so the control problem won't be acute. All
they'll lose is their power and instruments. The weather's good. They should get down okay.'

‘Hadn't we better send out a search party?'

‘It's probably already gone, but we can check with the base camp,' said Wedderkind. ‘They'll have sent a diesel up to Broken Mill. Those cadets are pretty bright. I'd be very surprised if they hadn't already got it together. Do you want to drive down with me?'

NATIONAL GUARD ARMORY/MILES CITY/MONTANA

Up until 9 A.M. Sunday morning, Army Colonel Reese, commander of the airborne unit spearheading the evacuation, had been pretty well pleased with the way things had been going. All the ranches and farmsteads in the designated area, had been contacted during Saturday morning. They had all been briefed on the situation, and arrangements had been made over the transport each family would require to move their personal belongings, furniture, and livestock. Estimates had been made of the number of military personnel required to assist in loading and moving all transportable items. Departure times had been scheduled. People living in wheeled trailer homes had already been towed clear of the fire zone and resited in the camping and recreation areas north of Jordan. Checkpoints were being set up and detour signs posted. Eight helicopters were patrolling the area and liaising with the ground units. With their normal radio equipment rendered inoperative by the fade-out, the Army was maintaining contact with medium-wave sets. Since anyone with a transistor radio could listen in, they were using cryptic code words, transmitting on one channel and receiving on another. Sunday was going to be Colonel Reese's big day. The remaining evacuees would be packed and waiting for the Army trucks that were already on
their way. The ground and air units would move into position, sealing off the 1,250-square-mile area. The Air Force units and CIA personnel would leave Crow Ridge. The stage would be set for the final phase of Operation CAMPFIRE.

By 09:45 hours, it was clear that the Pentagon's plans had begun to misfire. Colonel Reese tore up the laconic progress report he had planned to send to General Wills and sent a more urgent signal to Washington. It read: ‘All radio contact lost with CAMPFIRE units north of Miles City. Air and ground transportation in same area inoperative due to unknown electromechanical fault. Telephone links severed. Please advise.'

To his second-in-command Colonel Reese said, ‘Round up all the horses you can find in Miles City.'

USAF SPECIAL WEAPONS CENTER/KIRTLAND AFB/NEW MEXICO

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