Wasteland Rules: A New Dawn (The World After Book 3) (26 page)

September 10, 2029

Military Prison Near Joliet, Illinois

   The last time Tom had been this frustrated was when his
football team had lost the championship game. He had been so angry that he was
shaking with rage and Roberts had actually been afraid to even be near him.
They had arrived in Kansas City to find Storm had been there and already gone.
He and the girl had posed as GIA agents on a black op transporting a prisoner.
And the idiots at the garrison had not only believed them, they had given them
a helicopter no questions asked.

   But they had no problems following orders and arresting
Tom and Private Roberts once they had gotten back in contact with command. Tom
was being charged with dereliction of duty for failure to keep the hacker and
the loss of virtually his entire squad, as well as treason. Apparently some of
the brass believed he was colluding with Storm. He and Roberts had been
transported back to Joliet and put in the military prison near HQ.

   The two of them had been separated and Tom had been stuck
into a small cell. Masked interrogators had come for him shortly after arrival.
He had been subjected to what they called enhanced interrogation. He was
stripped of his clothes, subjected to ice water baths, water boarded, and a
myriad of other techniques designed to break him. Unfortunately for his
interrogators, he had been trained to resist such techniques and he had
previously been interrogated in a similar manner.

   The process only made him more resolute and angrier.
Sometime during the first day Tom had reached an almost zen level of anger. He
had become so angry that he became incredibly calm. Nothing they did seemed to
faze him and he became completely non responsive and reactionless. No matter
what happened he didn’t make a noise and he maintained a completely blank
expression. After two days of this, they dressed him in his uniform and took
him to a small interrogation room. He was shackled to the floor and placed on a
chair at a small table. A solitary chair sat empty across from him. An
interrogator came and hooked him up to a lie detector. Two MPs stood guard
behind him at all times.

   Interrogators came and went. They tried good cop, then
bad cop, then worse cop. None of it elicited any response from Tom. Finally,
after hours of this, General Ross came in to talk to him. The general sat down
slowly and smiled at him. He regarded Tom in silence for a few minutes and then
spoke.

   “My people tell me you haven’t spoken since they brought
you in.” General Ross stated questioningly.

   Tom remained silent. He was furious at the man he had
regarded so highly, but who had betrayed him. Tom had been utterly loyal to the
U.S.T.G. and to General Ross. He had risked his life over and over to try to
please them, but that wasn’t good enough apparently. He had watched his troops
die in vain in futile attempts to stop Storm. Their lives had just been thrown
away, and their ultimate sacrifice meant nothing.

   “You need to talk to me Tom.” The general insisted. “I’m
your last hope of getting a reduced punishment. Right now they are going to
send you to the Abyss if you don’t give up anything.”

   Unfortunately there was nothing to give up. Tom wasn’t a
traitor and he had done everything he could to try to succeed. Storm was
exceedingly skillful and well equipped and he had a lot of outside help. He
still couldn’t figure out how Storm jammed them in the Everglades and spotted
them in Colorado. The U.S.T.G. just hadn’t given him enough resources to defeat
Storm. If they gave him enough troops he could launch an attack on NASA and
root out Storm and that annoying girl. But that wasn’t going to happen. They
were going to bury him and his failure in a deep dark hole. So he wasn’t going
to give them the satisfaction of cracking.

   “Tom, please give me something, anything.” General Ross
pleaded. “Maybe I can still get you a discharge and a job in one of the
factories.”

   That was worse than death as far as Tom was concerned. He
had given everything to become a Red beret and the commander of Zeta Force. It
was who he was, not just what he did. He had prided himself on being the swift
hand of retribution for the U.S.T.G. His parents had been so proud of him and
his position. One of the interrogators had told him his parents had disowned
him and denied his existence. He knew that was mostly to stay in the Party’s
good graces, but it still hurt.

   The government was systematically stripping away
everything he had or was. They thought they could break him, but he was
stronger than that. He had been loyal to them, but they were proving that the
loyalty had been a one way street. It was almost freeing in a way. All his
adult life he had been conditioned to believe that the government knew what was
best and was always right, and to not question his superiors or the
government’s authority.  But he knew what they were doing to him was wrong, so
it meant they were fallible; that maybe he should have been questioning their
authority all along. Maybe he should have doubted the purpose they had given
him, but it had defined him.

   Now he had no purpose, only rage. He needed to fill that
hole with something. He needed a new purpose. At that moment he decided his new
purpose would be to tear down the existing order. He didn’t want to replace it
with anything, he just wanted to see it burn. His newly renewed sense of
purpose gave him even more strength and he stared intently at General Ross
until the general gave up and left.

   “What a waste.” General Ross muttered as he left.

   Tom but back the angry retort he wanted to make and
waited patiently to be returned to his cell. Before he was returned, the MPs
had a shift change. As the second MP was leaving he bumped against Tom and
slipped him something. From the feel of it, it was a handcuff key. The MP then
murmured “I five” as he left. The other MP didn’t seem to notice and left
without a word.

   Two new MPs came in and took up their positions behind
him. He tried to decide what the message meant and what was happening. It was
likely that I-5 was in reference to room five in the infirmary. Tom had already
spent some time there when his interrogators had pushed his body too far. But
what was waiting there for him, and could he get there even if he escaped his
cuffs?

   Was this a trap? Had the government had decided to have
him killed during an escape so they could be spared any further embarrassment?
Or was someone trying to help him escape? Who would want him out? The only
faction that was opposing the government was the rebels, the self-styled “Sons
of Liberty”. He doubted that they would want to help someone like him, someone
who had many of their comrades’ blood on his hands. Although it was possible
that turning him to their side would be considered a huge coup.

   He finally decided it didn’t matter. If he did nothing he
was going to be thrown into a deep dark hole from which no one returned. At
least this gave him a chance to get free and do some damage. There was even a
small possibility he could actually escape. He palmed the key and waited for
his opportunity. Maybe he could unlock himself during the transfer and get a
weapon from one of the MPs.

   The opportunity came quicker than expected. Before he
could be transferred, the power suddenly failed; blanketing the room in almost
complete darkness. Tom knew this couldn’t be a coincidence; the prison had been
built after the Collapse and had a dedicated power plant as well as backup
generators. For all of them to fail simultaneously couldn’t be coincidence, it
was deliberate sabotage. He sprang into action.

   In the time it took for the emergency lights to come on,
Tom had escaped his shackles. He leapt to his feet and grabbed the surprised
guard behind him to his right by the head and slammed it down onto the small
steel table. Blood flew as the man’s face was smashed in and he was knocked
unconscious. Without slowing, Tom kicked the other MP in the groin as hard as
he could. He smiled vengefully as the man squealed in pain and crumpled to the
ground. There was no hesitation as he grabbed the man and then snapped his neck.

   Once, the thought of killing a fellow soldier would have
been impossible to even consider. But they had abandoned him and he no longer
felt any allegiance or tie to the U.S.T.G. military or its government
overlords. He snapped the unconscious MP’s neck just because he felt like it.
It felt good to exact a little payback, and to be in control once again. He
walked to the door and glanced out the small window. The dimly lit hallway was
empty.

   Returning to the second MP, Tom stripped off his uniform and
quickly pulled it on. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it would be enough of a
disguise to fool anyone who didn’t look to close. He also strapped on the MP’s
belt and checked the gear on it. The belt contained a can of pepper spray, a
wooden security baton, cuffs, and a radio. He grabbed the radio and changed the
channels to see if he could get anything.

   Everything except the emergency channel was dead. That
channel must have its own power supply. When he turned to that channel,
panicked yelling and screaming flooded the room. It sounded like the other
guards had their hands full with rioting prisoners. They would hopefully be too
busy to pay attention to him.

   Tom tried the door and it swung open. The prison doors
worked largely on magnetic locks that were controlled from the main control
room. But when the power went out, all of the locks automatically disengaged.  It
was a safety feature to prevent people from being trapped if the power failed.
That explained the severity of the riot, all of the prisoners had been let out;
and they probably had a bone to pick with the guards.

   The hallways in the interrogation wing were mostly empty
as Tom made his way to the infirmary. He only encountered a few MPs frantically
running towards the cell blocks. He got a couple of odd looks, but he cradled
his arm as though it was broken and faked a limp. It must have worked because
none of the other MPs stopped to confront him. All the interior doors were unlocked
and he had no difficulty reaching the infirmary.

   Reaching room five, he slipped inside. It appeared empty
except for a gurney in the middle of the room. A man materialized from the
shadows with his hands up. He was so stealthy he started Tom initially and he
reached for the baton. He couldn’t tell if it was the same MP as before.

   “Relax.” The man hissed. “I’m here to get you out.”

   “Who are you?” Tom asked. “Why are you helping me?”

   “No names.” The man insisted. “Let’s just say our goals
now align, so we are helping you. The enemy of our enemy is our friend.”

   “Which enemy?” Tom pressed.

   “Derek Storm.” The man replied with a snarl.

   That caught Tom off guard. He had expected this to be
political in some way, not personal. Giving it a brief moments thought, he
realized that Derek was responsible for all of the bad things that had happened
to him. His hatred for Storm burned white hot and all he could do was seethe.

   “I see that you agree.” The man said slyly. “Here. Wrap
this bandage around your head and then climb onto the stretcher. We will take
you out posing as a wounded guard.”

   “What then?” Tom asked.

   “That’s not my job.” The man explained. “Someone else
will take you from there. Stop asking questions and get on the gurney.”

   Tom had no choice but to comply, so he grabbed the wrap
and climbed onto the gurney. The man squirted, what Tom hoped was fake blood,
all over him and then strapped him down. Then he rolled the gurney out into the
hall.

   “Close your eyes and feign unconsciousness.” The man
instructed. “Don’t move again until I tell you to.”

   With that the gurney began to roll down the concrete
hallways of the prison. Tom could hear other people passing by and screams and
shouts in the distance. After they had been moving for about five minutes he
heard the lights go on and could feel the increased light on his eyelids. There
were several muttered conversations between his benefactor and other people.
Each time they stopped for a moment, a conversation occurred and then they
moved on.

   Finally, Tom felt the fresh air hit him as they exited
the building. The gurney stopped suddenly and then he felt the gurney lift up
and it got dark again. He briefly thought about opening his eyes, but he
didn’t. No point in taking a chance at discovery. If the man or his allies had
wanted to hurt Tom they would have done so already. He heard doors slam shut
and an engine start. Then motion that indicated they were in a vehicle.

   “Okay, we’re clear. You can get up now.” A new voice told
him after a few more minutes.

   Tom opened his eyes to see a man in a medic’s uniform and
a mask over his face looking at him. As he had suspected, they were inside of
an ambulance. It had the Spartan look of a military ambulance and he could tell
that it was an Army issue vehicle. So these people were either incredible
fakers or they were normally military personnel. That was pretty amazing
considering the lengths that the U.S.T.G. went to investigate people and to
continue to keep tabs on them.

   “What now?” he asked simply.

   “Now, you thank us by doing us a favor.” The man said,
his voice muffled by the mask. “Storm and his girl are about to try to retrieve
something very valuable to us. We want you to stop them.”

   “How do I do that?” Tom asked with a laugh. “I don’t have
any resources or way to get to wherever they are.”

   “We will take care of that.” The man insisted. “We just
need you to agree.”

   “Oh, I’m in.” Tom said decisively. “Any chance to get
some revenge on Storm, I’ll take it.”

   “Good. That’s what we thought you would say.” The man
said happily. “We have arranged for a flight for you to Kentucky. You will pose
as a GIA agent sent to root out some partisans. We have created all the
necessary documentation for you. You will take command of a squad of soldiers
already on the ground there. Proceed to Mammoth Cave and set up an ambush. You
can kill Storm and anyone else, but we want the girl alive and unharmed. Bring
us anything she has on her person.”