V Plague (Book 11): Merciless (11 page)

“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but I’m the guest of a small group of Canadians that are about to starve to death.  They haven’t had a resupply flight in several months, and weren’t getting a lot of help.  I’m hoping you can provide some motivation.”

“Major, right now I’m doing everything I can to keep the million residents of Oahu from being vaporized by an enemy missile.  We’re stretched beyond thin.  There just aren’t resources available.”

“There’s a plane coming for me,” I protested.

“Yes, and only because it was a flight bound for the Bahamas.  They were rerouted when we learned your plane went down.  Fortunate for them as the island was struck and we lost all personnel to a Russian missile. 

“There’s room on the plane, Major.  If the Canadians want to evacuate with you, we’ll take them in.  Otherwise, it may be some time, if ever, before we’re able to coordinate a supply mission.  Now, I have to go.  Good to have you back.”

There was click and the circuit went dead.  I pulled the headset off and nearly threw it in frustration.  Looking up, I met Dumas’ eyes and knew he could tell how the conversation had gone.

“Not good news, was it,” he said.

“The war is taking all of our resources,” I said.  “The plane coming for me was on its way to the Bahamas.  It was diverted at the last minute.”

“Maybe they could stop on their way and pick up some snacks,” the WO said with a wry grin.

“Maybe,” I said.  “But they’re probably radio silent.  Trying to not be noticed by the Russians.  But there’s another option.”

The two men looked at me expectantly.  I stood and motioned for us to move into the corridor.  Evacuation would be the Captain’s decision.  I didn’t want to talk about this in front of his enlisted personnel manning the comm room and put him in a difficult situation if he declined.

“That was Admiral Packard, CINCPACFLT, I was speaking with,” I said in a low voice once we were outside and the door was closed.  “He has offered to take in all of your personnel.  Says there’s room on the plane.”

“Where?”  Dumas asked.  “In a war zone?  At least here, my people are safe.”

“Until they starve.  Or you have a medical emergency and run out of supplies.  Besides, do you really think hunting seals is a viable long term strategy for survival?  How many are you going to have to kill to feed this many people?  And what about heat?  What do you do when you run out of fuel?”

The two men looked at each other.  I could tell they didn’t like the idea of leaving what had been their sanctuary, but also that they realized there wasn’t really an option.

“Where would we go?”  Skelling asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head.  “I don’t know where I’m going.  With the Bahamas gone and North America crawling with infected, there’s not a lot of options.  Hawaii, probably, if the Russians don’t manage to land a nuke in the middle of Pearl Harbor.  If we make it to Hawaii, I would bet you can find a way to get to Australia if you don’t want to stay.”

Dumas stood there staring at me for a long beat.  I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes.

“I appreciate your Admiral’s gracious offer,” he finally said.  “I need to consider our options and speak with the senior scientific staff.  They are not under military control and I can’t order them to evacuate if they don’t want to.  If they stay, we have to stay.  I will not leave them unprotected.”

I understood his position.  And respected him for it, even if I would have made the decision for the civilians.  This wasn’t normal, peacetime.  This was probably the last war that man would ever fight without using sticks and rocks for weapons.  Survival wasn’t decided by committee.  Decisions were made by those who fully understood the options.  Or lack thereof.

But, this was his house and his people.  It wasn’t my place to push my opinion, no matter how well intentioned it might be.  I nodded.

Dumas turned and walked away, but I didn’t follow.  Remained standing in the hall with Warrant Officer Skelling.  We watched the Captain disappear into the cafeteria.

“What do you think?”  I asked a moment later.

“Not my place to think, sir,” he replied.

“Bullshit, Warrant Officer,” I smiled.  “I was a Master Sergeant my entire career.  Got bumped to Major when I was recalled to active duty after the attacks, so I know how this works.  You two have already talked over the possible scenarios, and he knows what you think.  If he doesn’t, he isn’t worth the uniform he’s wearing.”

Skelling looked at me, and for an instant I thought I’d offended him.  Then he smiled, and I knew I was right.

“He’ll convince them,” he said.  “Not really much choice.  Stay here and slowly starve to death while we try to live off seal meat, or take our chances elsewhere.”

I nodded, and fell in beside him as he began moving away from the cafeteria.  We passed through a door at the end of the hall, the temperature dropping dramatically as we entered an unheated room.  I looked around and saw a small window in the far wall, an electric fan mounted in the wall beneath it.  On a narrow ledge next to the fan was a battered, metal ashtray.

“Smoke?” 

I turned to see Skelling holding out a pack.  With a smile, I plucked out a cigarette, then used his lighter after he got his going.  Walking over to the window, he pressed a button and the fan hummed to life, drawing the smoke out of the room.  Stretching up on his toes, he peered out the window.

“Ever seen a polar bear outside a zoo?”  He asked.

I moved next to him, tall enough to see through the heavy glass without any problem.  It took a moment, then in the distance I saw a hulking form slowly moving in the lights around the antenna farm.

“They come this close often?”  I asked, amazed at the size of the animal.

“Every now and then,” he said.  “Gotta watch your ass when you’re outside.  For as big as they are, they’re fast and quiet.  Can be on you before you know it’s there.  This is my third tour here.  On my first, lost two scientists who got sloppy.”

“What do you do about them?”  I asked.

“Do?  Nothing, unless they’re attacking.  Try to avoid them, but whenever we’re outside, someone has a .416 Weatherby at hand.  Only thing that will put them down quick if they’re charging.  But we’d rather not do that unless it’s to save one of our lives.  It’s their home.  We’re just visiting.”

“An elephant gun?  Seriously?”  I was surprised, then I took a closer look at the massive bear.

“Yep,” he nodded, puffing on his cigarette.  “That one there is a big male.  550 kilos, easy.  They can hit 40 kilometers an hour in a sprint.  If you have to shoot one, you’d damn sure better put him down with the first shot, otherwise, all you’ll do is piss him off.”

“Ever had to kill one?”

“Once.  Had this new kid on his first rotation.  We were out with a group of scientists, watching over them while they took samples from the ice.  Well, it took them a while, and the kid got bored.  Wandered away from the group to sneak a smoke.  Climbed over a ridge and came face to face with one about the same size as that one out there.

“He fell backwards.  Tumbled down the slope.  Probably all that saved his life.  But the bear had seen and smelled him, and wanted some fresh meat, so here he came.  Had to shoot him to save the kid.  Felt bad about it for quite a while.  The bear was just being a bear.”

I nodded, exactly understanding his sentiment.  We watched the bear as we smoked.  Eventually, the animal wandered away, disappearing in the snowy environment as soon as he moved away from the lights.  Cigarette finished, I crushed it out in the ashtray and looked around when the door clanged open.

“Major,” Captain Dumas stuck his head in.  “There are some questions.  Could you join us, please?”

I followed him to the cafeteria, feeling a little self-conscious as all eyes turned to me the instant I walked through the door.  Resuming the same seat at the table, I patiently answered the assembled peoples’ questions as best I could.  Unfortunately, most of my answers consisted of “I don’t know”.  To their credit, they didn’t blame me for this.

Finally, they ran out of things to ask.  After a long stretch of silence, Captain Dumas cleared his throat.  Everyone turned to look at him.

“I believe it is our best option to take the Americans up on their offer,” he said.  “Yes, there are many unknowns.  However, if we stay here, we will most likely be on our own.  I, for one, do not relish the idea of spending the rest of my life on the ice.  Any objections?”

I looked around at the faces as they thought about what Dumas had said.  Movement caught my eye and I glanced at the door to see Skelling leaning against the jam, listening and watching.  After nearly a minute of silence, Dumas nodded and got to his feet.

“Very well, then.  Get all of your people ready to move.  One personal bag, small enough to be held in their lap.  We don’t know the size of the aircraft, but even if it’s large, there will be concerns over fuel consumption.  The less weight we bring, the better.”

Everyone slowly began nodding, understanding the instructions.  One by one, they stood and filed out of the room.

“Warrant Officer,” Dumas said, calling Skelling over.  “Get the men ready to move.  One sidearm with a hundred rounds, and rifle with three hundred rounds each.  No personal items.  And have a squad check the generator for the fueling pumps and deicer.  We don’t want to be wasting time when our ride gets here.”

“Sir!”  Skelling acknowledged the order and hurried out of the room.

“I hope there’s a safe place for these people, Major.”

“Captain, there’s no such thing as a safe place anymore.  Just a
safer
place.”

14

“Admiral, Commander Detmer to see you,” the disembodied voice of one of Packard’s aides came out of the speaker on his desk phone.

He tapped the screen on the tablet computer he was holding.  A bookmark appeared on the text, a report on the devastation sweeping across Russia as a result of the massive attack by the Thor system.  He was happy to have a reason to be distracted.

All of Russia’s nuclear generating stations had been destroyed, releasing massive amounts of radiation into the atmosphere.  There was no power, other than random, isolated pockets, anywhere in the country.  Food distribution had already ceased.  In the cities, domestic water no longer flowed through the pipes that delivered it to every home and business.  Communications, other than a few specialized military units, had gone offline.

At each target, ICBMs released their payloads of MX-489 nerve agent.  Tens of thousands of affected people began raging through the population.  Killing anything that moved.  In the process, they spread the chemical compound that was on their skin, hair and clothing.  Russia was quickly tearing itself apart from the inside.

“Admiral,” the Commander announced his presence in the office.

He worked for Naval Intelligence as a liaison with the Defense Intelligence Agency and the CIA. 

“Commander,” Packard acknowledged the man, rubbing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair.  “I was just reviewing the damage to Russia.”

“Still doesn’t compare with what they’ve done to the rest of the world, sir.”

“I don’t disagree with you, Commander.  Operation Merciless was tactically successful.  We’ve denied them the majority of their capability to wage war.  Unfortunately, it was necessary to decimate the civilian population to achieve this.”

“Three hundred and nineteen million, sir,” the Commander said, still standing at rigid attention in front of the Admiral’s desk.

“I’m very well aware of what the population was in America before they attacked, Commander,” Packard grumbled.  “That does not ease my conscience.  Not after ordering the deaths of millions of innocent civilians.”

“Sir, if I may, that is exactly why every officer is glad to have you in command.”

Packard looked up in surprise, meeting the younger man’s eyes for the first time.  After a moment, he nodded and waved the man into a chair.

“What do you have for me, Commander?”

“Sir, I’ve been working with Seaman Simmons to use the imaging capabilities of the NSA satellites.  Attempting to locate any remaining Russian subs.  And I think I’ve found something you should know about.  If you’ll bear with me, I’d like to walk you through the steps.”

“Proceed.”

“Well, sir.  Those NSA birds are really quite amazing.  Frankly, if I’d learned of their capabilities before the attacks I’d have been screaming bloody murder that they weren’t sharing.”

“Commander, are you getting to the point anytime soon?”

“Sorry, sir,” the man looked down, thankful the Admiral hadn’t taken his head off for not staying on topic.

“What did you find, Commander?” 

Packard leaned forward, curious, resting his forearms on the desk.  Letting the man off the hook.

“That’s the funny thing, sir.  I don’t know what I found.”

“Explain,” the Admiral growled.

“I found an offshore oil rig that appears to still be in operation.  Fifty point two miles off the Texas coast.  I only found it because it showed up like a sore thumb on a thermal scan of the area.  But it’s not the rig, itself, that caught more than my passing attention. 

“There are nearly 1,000 manned and over 4,000 unmanned rigs in the Gulf.  Many of the unmanned, and several of the manned are still showing signs of habitation or operation.  It was only dumb luck that I found this one in the first place.  We accidentally caught something on the far end of the EM spectrum.”

The man paused and opened a manila file folder, extracted a glossy, eight by ten photo and handed it across to the Admiral.  It was an image taken from orbit, comprised of shades of blue and grey.  Except for a single hot spot in the middle with a cherry red ring surrounding it.

“What’s the scale?”  Packard asked, staring at the photo in his hand.

“That ring has a diameter of forty miles, sir.”

The Admiral looked up in surprise, then returned his attention to the image.

“What is it?”

“That, sir, is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.  I have no idea.  I’ve run this by every expert I can find, and they’re as stumped as I am.  I’ve looked through the databases that are still available to us, and cannot find even a veiled reference to anything like this.  I attempted to identify the registered owner of the off-shore platform, but those records were held by the Department of Energy and are no longer available.”