World of Ashes (46 page)
“Major. I’m his brother,
former
Lieutenant Lee Cally.” He didn’t offer a handshake. Anyone who was involved with Ethan’s time in the Army wasn’t someone Lee felt the need to be friends with.
Harmon nodded, pursing his lips. “I see your brother has spoken of me before.”
“Only in the negative, I assure you.” Lee looked around the second story office, through the windows and out at the airfield. He stood and paced to the largest window, hands behind his back as if standing at ease. “I’m not going to stand here and try to repair the bad blood you and my brother have garnered. As a US Soldier I would hope you’d simply do your job and help us get back to our town.”
“I don’t remember flight coordinator being part of my job description.” Harmon leaned back in his chair, his tone collected and cool in only the disconnected, self assured way officers could pretend to care. He’d bought into the idea of being the gentry lock stock and barrel. “Frankly, I’m tempted to toss your brother out the gate. He’s a drunk, a druggie, a burnout. A-”
There was a clicking sound and Harmon’s eyes lit up. He often fancied himself a great chess and poker player. However, his gamble didn’t pay off this time. The M9 in Lee’s hand leveled at the major’s chest. His breathing was slow and steady, the pistol didn’t shake, the safety was off.
“I don’t have time to get in a pissing contest over my brother’s questionable acts during his tour, but since then he’s been drafted back by your fucking Army, abandoned by said fucking Army, and like myself found his way home and has since done everything in his power to serve and protect as many of his countrymen as he can. Sometimes men are self-destructive if they don’t have someone else to be responsible for, that I think was my brother’s downfall. That, however, has certainly changed. If you have issues with him, I suggest you put on gloves and go behind the hangar and have a nice Wall to Wall Counseling session.” Lee holstered the gun. “I’ll be in the TMC checking on my brother’s Deputy. We’ll expect to be on the first flight headed North. If you don’t want to play ball with me, fine. I’ll steal one of your fucking planes.” Without another word Lee went after his brother. Ethan wasn’t hard to find, he was sitting next to Allen, his riot baton on his lap to ward off those he didn’t want to see.
“You’re right. That dude was a prick.”
“He’s lucky I don’t kill him. I swore I’d kill anyone involved if I ever saw them again… Though I could think of worthier men to expend my lead upon. Harmon’s a bastard… but he’s not… He’s not the worst. Just a careerist, not a sociopath.” It was hard for Ethan to admit.
“That was his reaction to seeing you too, more or less.”
“Fuck him.” Ethan sighed and looked over Allen. “Doc says he took a nasty hit to the head and has a fractured rib, but that he’ll be fine after a lot of rest.”
“Good. I’d assume we won’t be here for long.” Lee folded his arms, “I’m going to go look into reporting this incident to the
proper
authorities. I think they’ll want to know Tupelo has been overrun by a bunch of ghetto rats.”
“Yeah. That was pretty fucked.” Ethan crossed his legs, but decided his knees didn’t like the new position and so went back to sitting normally. “What if a gang blitzed Sullivan? How much damage do you think they could do?”
“They couldn’t. The guys at the power plant pretty much wiped out every gang except those guys in St. Clair, but I don’t think that bunch has the capacity to be a threat either, hell, they couldn’t even push two isolated Guardsmen out of a one story building.” Lee shrugged. “Maybe we can bribe them to leave. Who knows. I just don’t want a war on my own doorstep.”
“Have you talked to the skinny one, Tammy?” Ethan shook his head, “Now that is one mean bitch. I think she could have held that armory all by herself. She might be hotter if she looked a little more like… you know, a girl and not a skinny boy. Maybe if her boobs ever filled out she would look like that chick from Lacuna Coil.” Ethan was trying to be funny, his mechanism for dealing with this shit.
“Christina Scabia? Yeah. She was smokin’ hawt. I wonder if she’s still alice. I wonder who all is still alive, ya know?” Lee looked down at the floor. “What celebrities, what political names might have survived… Silly to think of these things.”
“Not really. I often imagine what’s become of my favorite singers. I’d hate to think three albums was all I’d ever get of Evanescence.” Ethan cracked his neck. It felt good. He wished he could remember where he put his Mp3 player.
Lee left a little later and found his way to the radio room, a small office area connected to the Tactical Operation Center. It wasn’t very busy. Apparently Harmon had stopped by and briefed a specialist on what Lee was going to ask for. She had already queued up a call to Longview, Texas should Lee show up. She’d also booked a civilian flight for the next day for Lee and Ethan to be transported to Sullivan, and a flight for Allen a week later if his treatment required more bed rest.
“General Vierling is on the line, Sir.” She said, smiling at Lee. He got the impression she was already extremely tired of the breeding stock she was stationed with here, her eyes undressing him at every turn. “He seems very anxious to speak to you.” Lee gave it a moment’s thought and decided he might oblige her if there was time.
“This is Captain Cally, go ahead.”
The voice that responded was blessedly familiar. “
Captain. Good to hear from you. After we received the Broken Arrow signal from Tupelo we tried to track your plane. Is everyone okay?
”
Lee sighed, “Negative, Sir. There were two casualties from our flight. The pilot is KIA and our deputy is injured but alive and expected to recover, over.”
There was a brief pause. “
Do you know if any other planes made it off the tarmac? How many zombies were there?
”
Lee seemed surprised Vierling would ask that. He didn’t even remember seeing any other planes there, just zombies, a few locals, and a shit load of MS13. “I can’t say for sure the number of Infected, Sir. I don’t recall any other aircraft in the area, break. It wasn’t the infected who took the plane down. Over.”
“
Copy that, Captain. Can you tell me what happened? This is a secure line.
” If General Vierling said it was secure, then it was secure.
“Yes, sir. The refueling airfield was attacked by a gang, Sir, not zombies. I distinctly remember seeing the markings Mike Sierra One Three, that’s MS13, spray painted on the side of a stolen armored Humvee. It was the machine gun in that truck that damaged the plane and killed our pilot. We weren’t able to rescue any of the airfield personnel, break.” Lee paused for a moment, the image of the girl exploding on his brother and Allen’s immediate breakdown played over and over behind his eyelids, seared into his mind like a brand. “I feel it is extremely likely they have either killed or taken hostage all personnel.”
“
Copy that, Captain. Is Colonel McCann nearby?
”
Lee turned and found himself face to face with the base’s commanding officer. Colonel McCann was a short, stocky woman with a warm smile that seemed out of place in the world around her. She already had a headset on.
“Colonel McCann Actual, Sir. Go ahead.” She said, her tone as chipper as her smile. Lee was wondering if any of the women here had seen a man other than those they’d been forced to live with since the AFB was isolated. This woman was giving his
the look
as well. The notion of having both women at once crossed his mind, but Lee quickly dashed that. There was no way the Colonel was gonna have a threesome with a captain and an E4, even if the E4 was a read head.
“
I need a recon of Tupelo Airfield, Colonel. I need to know if the airfield is still active, or if it’s a Red Zone. Use best equipment possible. Satellites are available if weather holds.
” General Vierling ordered.
“Copy Longview Actual.” Colonel McCann said, “Little Rock Actual Out.” She set the headset down and reached out to shake Lee’s hand. “We’re glad you made it, Captain Cally, is it?”
Lee shook her hand. It wasn’t terribly soft, something he hadn’t expected from a career airman. “Yes, Ma’am. I’m the company commander of my town’s military forces.”
“Ah.” She smiled, “Well, if there’s anything we need to know, now is the time. The weather is holding bright and sunny across most of the South.” McCann pointed to a screen that held a satellite image of the weather over the Continental United States. The clouds were gray, still full of ash, but the weather patterns looked more hopeful than they had only a year ago. From the far West corner of Oklahoma to the Northern most part of Florida was clear blue skies, a rarity in this day and age.
“They have a lot of military equipment. I can’t say for sure what all they do have, but they are fielding light machine guns. It was an M249 that brought us down.” Lee omitted the part about the murdered girl. What good would having that on her conscience do the Colonel? “I can also report we cost them a Ferrari and a Humvee.”
McCann nodded, and like Lee put her hands behind her back. A smirk crossed her face. “Major Stein.” She said towards a door at the far end of the room. A moment later a brash looking man in a green flight suit appeared.
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“Prepare a flight of four Black Hawks, two unloaded, two with armed landing personnel. And let’s get at least one Spooky in the air.” She turned back to Lee. “I intend to annihilate this hostile force, Captain. Is this your suggestion as well?”
Lee then noticed for the first time what kind of C-130’s Little Rock AFB now fielded. How he hadn’t seen the guns protruding from the planes’ port sides before he didn’t know, but Air Lift was no longer this base’s primary mission. To cement that fact, a giant poster behind the radio operator depicting an AC-130 in flight with the caption “THE AC-130. NOT JUST A PLANE, BUT MORE LIKE A FLYING FUCKING CASTLE OF DOOM” dominated a good portion of the wall next to a map of Arkansas.
“Permission to accompany the Black Hawks, Ma’am. I want to see the gang pay for what they’ve done.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. We launch at noon.” Colonel McCann said. There wouldn’t be time for
getting to know
any of the women on this base.
Lee theorized that the gang must not have known who was in control of Tupelo when they attacked it, otherwise he was pretty sure they never would have attacked. He had been loaned body armor, a flight suit and was given a door seat on the first Black Hawk in the flight. They reached Tupelo just before 1300, a shock to the disorganized victors as they lounged about on the airfield, either doing nothing or repairing the fence. Apparently they had decided to set up camp.
The first flyover sent the gang into a panic, scrambling for their guns and to just get out of the way in general. The thundering blades of the helicopters also served to confuse them and they started shooting at just about anything, muzzle flashes aimed at nothing were easy to spot even in broad daylight.
The second bird in the flight peeled off from the rest and came in low next to the main terminal. The crew chief raised his mounted M240Bravo and turned several men with sagging pants and bandanas into pizza sauce. The chopper hovered low and two men dropped down on ropes while the remaining three choppers provided cover fire. The recon team ran into the terminal and within two minutes returned empty handed. The chopper landed and in less than ten seconds they were aboard and lifting off again. There were no survivors of the gang attack, not even hostages.
Lee couldn’t hear the radio chatter, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with pulling the flight of Black Hawks out, because within a minute’s time they were several hundred feet higher and orbiting the airfield just out of small arms range. What happened next the gang could never have seen coming. Since the Vietnam War the US had mounted cannons and Gatling guns on cargo planes designed to orbit a combat zone and rain death from above. Soldiers referred to these planes as “Puff the Magic Dragon” or “Spooky.” Three solid lines of fire and hate poured from the sky onto the overrun Tupelo airfield from a plane that was barely in view. Lee couldn’t help but hum
Puff the Magic Dragon
to himself. This was sweet revenge.
