The End (27 page)

San Diego, California

Dan had gathered all the men from the scavenger teams in the central park. He was excited that Gordon had listened to him and was going to act on it.

As Gordon stood in front of them, he thought that every day he sent them out into harm's way. This new mission would be different. They needed to have a plan; they needed to train and be prepared for this. He could not risk sending them into this situation unready. He wasn't dealing with highly trained Marines, he was dealing with attorneys, accountants, shop owners, sales people, realtors; many of them had never picked up a gun before the attacks, much less trained for close-quarters battle.

“Here is the situation. Dan located what appears to be some type of operating base of the Villistas. They have occupied the Lowes on Mira Mesa Boulevard and I-15. Now, we don't have much more information than that. We know they have cars going in and out. More than likely they have stores of food and other supplies there which we need desperately now. We need this to go well, gentlemen. With what happened last night we need this.”

All eyes and ears were on Gordon. They all knew the gravity of the situation. They weren't just scavenging; this was to be an assault.

“I know this mission could result in us having armed conflict with these Villistas, and by what we've all found on the roads; these people are not nice. However, this is the world we now live in. If we don't do something soon to find a large cache of food, then our nice little community will soon turn on itself. I'm not ordering you all to go, I am asking. If we conduct this raid there is a chance that some of us will not come back. What I am asking now is for you to think about it. After today's runs I want us all to meet up again here, and you tell me if you're in or not. For those that are in, we will begin to train. I will personally go to their location and recon the area. I will not send you into something unless I feel we can accomplish it. Does anyone have any questions?”

Jerrod raised his hand and asked, “If this mission becomes a green light, when do you estimate we'll go in?”

“I plan on going out there today with three teams to start the recon. I would like to conduct this raid in three days. That should give us enough time to get a feel for the lay of the land and to train. Anyone else have any questions?”

“What happens if we don't volunteer for this mission?” a member of one of the teams asked.

“Nothing; I don't want you unless you're fully committed. I appreciate what you all do now and it's risky, but what I'm asking now is for you all to become soldiers.”

“You can sign me up for anything. I'm in!” said a familiar voice from the back of the room.

Gordon looked back and saw his good friend Jimmy.

Gordon smiled and responded to Jimmy, “Good, because you and I are going out there today.”

“Well, the truck is fueled up and ready,” Jimmy said. He walked up to Gordon and gave him a big hug.

“Good to see you buddy, really good to see you,” Gordon replied.

“I'm ready to get back in the saddle, as they say.”

“Does anyone else have any questions?” Gordon asked again.

He paused to see if anyone did, but their silence provided the answer he was looking for.

“Okay, good. I need a team to volunteer to go with us,” he said to the group.

Jerrod raised his hand. “Count me and Eric in.”

“Sounds good. Dan you're coming too, get your team ready. Everyone else, go out there and do your runs today. We'll meet up afterwards.”

All the men got up and left the room.

Gordon turned to Jimmy and said, “Damn glad to see you.”

“Same here, buddy; sorry I took so long,” Jimmy said.

“No problem at all, you needed the time,” Gordon replied.

“After last night, I thought you could use the help.”

“You're right. I need you out there with me today.”

“I missed what's happening,” Jimmy queried.

“I'll fill you in on the way there.”

Gordon briefed the teams on how the recon would go. He wanted Dan to lead them there. Once on site, he would split the teams up so they could go set up and gather information from all sides of the Villistas location.

With everyone knowing their responsibilities, the three teams headed out. All were nervous but all were equally determined to provide for their people no matter the personal cost to them.

The drive took them south along Interstate 15, which had become a graveyard for cars and a migration route for starving San Diegans. As they approached the exit Gordon could see the smoke plumes coming from the vicinity of the Lowes. He wondered what they were burning.

Dan put his arm out the window and pointed to the exit for Mercy Road. He wanted to approach the Villista hideout carefully. They drove down Mercy Road and took a left onto Black Mountain Road and headed south. As they drew closer he saw more and more Villistas graffiti spray painted on the sides of buildings, houses, and retaining walls. They definitely were in the Villista territory now.

With Dan's vehicle in the lead, Gordon and Jimmy were second, followed by Eric and Jerrod. They had slowed their speed considerably; to Gordon it felt like they were barely crawling up the hill.

“Why is he going so slow?” Gordon asked, curious as to why they were going unusually slowly.

“I don't know why, we're still a good mile from our destination,” Jimmy said to Gordon's question.

They were slowly weaving around abandoned cars. The smoke plumes were getting closer and closer. Gordon noticed he hadn't seen anyone walking since they turned onto Black Mountain Road. The whole area made him feel uneasy. Gordon was beginning to have a sense of déjà vu from Fallujah. Up ahead he saw movement; some people were standing on a pedestrian. Gordon leaned forward as if getting a few inches closer to the windshield would help him see better.

“What are they—?” he asked but was interrupted when Dan's car veered off the road and sped off.

“What the fuck?” Gordon yelled as he watched Dan's car accelerate down Longridge Road.

When he put his attention back to the people on the bridge he knew then they were Villistas and that they had been led into an ambush.

“Turn around now!” he yelled at Jimmy.

But before Jimmy could make the turn, a rocket-propelled grenade exploded in front of them on the street. The explosion threw asphalt and debris onto the truck. Gordon couldn't see anything. The shock of the explosion made Jimmy hit the accelerator. Blinded by the blast and smoke, Jimmy jerked the truck hard to the left and hit the median curb.

“Go, go, go!” Gordon yelled.

Gunfire began to rain down on them. Gordon could hear the bings and bangs of the truck being hit. Jimmy hit the accelerator again and jumped the curb. Crossing over to the northbound lane was difficult but they cleared the median. As he made the turn to head north, another rocket hit the bed of the truck. The force of the blast threw Gordon and Jimmy into the dash of the truck.

“It won't move, the truck won't move!” Jimmy screamed in anger.

“Get out! We have to make a run for it!” Gordon opened the door and stepped out with his M-4 ready. He placed it in his shoulder as soon as both feet met the pavement, turned, and immediately started to fire upon the people on the bridge.

“Jimmy, let's fucking go!” Gordon commanded, not looking away from the targets he was engaging.

“My door won't open!” Jimmy cried out in a panic.

Gunfire was now coming from both sides of the street and the bridge. Gordon managed to get a few shots off before he felt the sharp burning pain in his side.

“Damn it!” he screamed in pain. “They shot me!”

He turned to locate the shooters on his left in the houses but he could not see anyone. All he could hear was the cracking of gunfire and whizzing of bullets as they passed by him.

“Jimmy, come on!”

Jimmy stopped his futile attempt to open the driver's door and crawled across the bench seat and came out the passenger side. Jimmy had a pistol in his hand and immediately started to shoot at the people on the bridge.

“Where is Jerrod?” Jimmy asked while shooting.

“Go take cover behind the truck!” Gordon commanded, not answering Jimmy's question.

The slide on Jimmy's pistol locked to the rear. “Damn it! I'm out of bullets!”

Gordon, using his left hand, reached in his pocket and handed Jimmy another fully loaded magazine. Jimmy took it and reloaded quickly. Gordon had managed, even though wounded, to hit a few of the Villistas. The gunfire was coming from everywhere now; Gordon didn't know who to engage because there were so many.

“Jimmy, I'll cover you. Run!”

Jimmy listened this time and started to run north down the street, away from the gunfire.

Gordon saw more men on the bridge. Reinforcements were arriving.

With all the confusion, he had lost track of where Eric and Jerrod had gone. He slowly started to walk backward, still shooting as he went. Feeling the warm blood flowing down his side was not a welcoming sign. The pain was also increasing in intensity. Reaching in his cargo pocket he grabbed another rifle magazine and pulled it out. The second bullet hitting him made him drop it. The impact felt like someone had smacked him with a bat. His left arm went limp.

Gordon started to think to himself, Is this it? Is this how I go out? What about my family?

More determined than before, he tactically transitioned to his pistol. His rifle lay slung to his chest. Taking aim, he managed to shoot a couple more Villistas.

Like the 7th Cavalry, Jerrod and Eric came across the median about twenty feet in front of him. Eric was hanging outside of the car with his rifle taking shots. Jerrod turned the wheel hard left and accelerated just as another rocket came screaming in from the bridge and smashed into Jerrod's car. The rear of the car exploded, throwing Eric from the car before it flipped over onto its hood.

Gordon could see Jerrod was still in the car. He started to make his way to the car, but bullets rained down around him. Determined, Gordon pressed forward in an attempt to reach Jerrod. As he marched toward Jerrod he emptied his pistol. Gordon thrust the pistol under his armpit and pressed the magazine release. The empty magazine dropped to the ground with a clang. As he reached for another magazine, the third and final impact did its job. The force of the shot took him to the ground. It struck him just below the collar bone.

As he laid on the hard pavement the trauma from the three shots was taking a toll. His vision began to get blurry and vertigo set in. Looking to his left he saw Jerrod; his now dead body was crushed under the weight of the car. Gordon could not see Eric through the heavy black smoke coming from Jerrod's burning car. The gunfire now seemed distant as his thoughts drifted to his wife Samantha and then to his two children. He thought about how he would miss them, their little laughs, and their sweet and gentle hugs. Gordon tried to move, but the weakness from the blood loss prevented it. Feeling what he called the darkness, he struggled to stay awake. Now the sounds around him seemed to go away. All he could hear was his shallow breathing. More thoughts came of his children. He loved them so much; he longed to be in his family's arms. He longed to kiss and hold his wife. As his breathing became shallower; the tears began to fall down the sides of his face. Visions of his family without him took over and he knew the darkness was coming. If he could just keep thinking about them, the darkness wouldn't come. Gordon managed to bring his right arm to his neck. Grabbing the chain he had around it, he pulled the necklace out from underneath his shirt. Attached to the chain was a sterling silver compass. Samantha had given this to him years ago when they were dating. When she gave it to him, she told him that it would always show him the way home. Holding it tightly, he openly cried. Transporting himself there, he could see her like she was then, her long blond hair and pouty lips, the doe eyes and sweet smell. Tears ran down his cheeks as he felt the darkness coming over him. As he slipped away he muttered softly, “I love you.”

Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

Conner was covered in dripping sweat as he fumbled with his keys to his room. His new routine of running at the gym was paying off; he was leaning up and relieving some stress. While the office of president came with huge responsibilities it offered many luxuries that most did not have anymore. So before each daily run, Conner would say a small prayer acknowledging his gratefulness for his and Julia's safety.

Passing his bedroom, he saw Julia sitting on the edge of the bed. Her seclusion had become commonplace since the death of their son, but something seemed different. He stopped what he was doing and went into room.

“Hi sweetie, is everything okay?”

She turned to him and said, “Brad, please sit next to me.”

She had a gentleness in her voice that he had not heard in a long time. He missed her and did not hesitate when he heard that long missed tone.

“Of course.”

She grabbed his hand, turned, and faced him.

“Brad, I know we have been through a lot together, I know you personally have a huge responsibility. I love you and respect you. You didn't choose this but you have stood up and taken charge like the man I know you are. I'm so proud of you. You are a good man, a good husband, and a good father. I know that over the past couple of weeks I've been very distant. I hope you forgive me for that. I know that it must have been hard for you, too, and that you haven't had the chance to truly mourn because you've been called upon to lead our country.”

Conner just held his wife's hand tight and looked at her. The more she talked the more tears started to well up in her eyes. He had wanted to interject his thoughts, but this was the most she had talked to him since Bobby's death. He let her continue uninterrupted.