Blue Plague: War (Blue Plague Book 6) (5 page)

Angela laid her head on Stephanie’s shoulder, and Stephanie put her arm around her. They both walked out that way with tears in their eyes. Not noticing them, Bruce reached under the covers and grabbed PJ by the ankle and hoisted him out. Holding PJ over the bed by one ankle, he lifted PJ up to his face. “I’m not in the mood today, PJ. Get dressed, or you chew branches off that tree,” Bruce said, putting him down.

Looking over at the two women, Bruce’s heart froze, seeing they had tears on their face. “Ah, I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I’m sorry,” he said as they ran over to hug him.

“You’re the best ever,” Stephanie said. Angela just cried.

Bruce hugged them, thankful he would get to keep his testicles for a while longer. “Come on, you two. If you’re up, let’s go eat,” he said. They nodded and started getting dressed. Sherry and Emily dressed themselves as he finished dressing PJ and Cade.

When Emily finished dressing, she ran over to Bruce. “Daddy, I want to go with you to the shop today during church,” she asked. “Me too,” Sherry piped in.

“Girls, Daddy will be at church today,” he said, and everyone froze. Since Debbie’s death, he had not gone.

“What?” Stephanie asked, letting her pants fall down.

“I’m going to church with y’all. I’m setting a bad example for the kids,” Bruce said. Stephanie let out a yelp and tried to run to him but fell. Angela ran over the bed at him. Stephanie finally freed herself from the demon pants and ran to them. When the hugging was over, they finished dressing and headed to the Center.

Bruce was walking on eggshells. He knew the weeks before he found out they were pregnant, they were getting moody, but now, that was a mild description.

They all entered the Center to find it was full. Heading to the command table, they sat down. Plates were placed in front of them, and Bruce dove in. Angela put her coffee down. “That’s burned,” she cried out.

“Wait till you taste the oatmeal. I think they put PJ’s diaper in it,” Stephanie said curling her lips in disgust.

Wanting to head this off before it got out of hand Bruce stood and walked to the kitchen. When Millie saw him walk in, she pointed her finger at him. “Shut it, Millie,” Bruce snapped, making her take a step back. “Angela thinks the coffee is burned, and Stephanie thinks the oatmeal has PJ’s dirty diaper in it. I want honey, jam, sugar, and anything else that will flavor something, and I want it now. They are getting close to spinning off,” Bruce said.

In a near panic Millie ran over to some shelves, grabbing jars and handing them to Bruce. When his arms were full, he headed back to the table with Millie in tow, her arms full as well. They set the jars down, and Millie looked at Stephanie and Angela. “I’m sorry I let new people cook today,” she said, putting some honey in Angela’s coffee. Bruce was putting spoonfuls of strawberry jelly in Stephanie’s oatmeal.

“Put’em on shit detail,” Stephanie barked, cautiously talking a bite and liking it with the strawberry jelly. From that point on, only Millie made their food.

***

That night, Bruce was in Matt and Jake’s computer lair. He had watched for the last hour all the cameras over the government compound. The President, along with several others, had webcams, and the boys had turned those on as well. Watching the activity at the government base Bruce just shook his head in wonder. The boys had totally infiltrated the base. Everything that had a computer belonged to them. Matt had even designed a program to infiltrate the helicopters.

The choppers had no outside access, but the maintenance crew plugged up laptops to run diagnostics. Then these were plugged back into the network. The virus would allow the chopper to run for one hour then shut down. If they wanted the chopper back up, the ground crews would have to dump the system, replace the motherboard, and reboot it. Matt figured if they had the motherboards, it would take two hours per chopper to get back in the air.

A part of Bruce really felt sorry for them. Matt and Jake really owned them. Anything connected to a computer was under their control. All the Strykers had the command and control system, but since the government didn’t have GPS, it was not being used. Well, it wasn’t being used by them. Jake had turned it on and could monitor each vehicle’s location to within a few feet, and no one there suspected anything. That was the job of counter intelligence, but there was none, so the group just went through the motions.

There were cameras around the camp, and the clan could see how the people were treated. They had already seen a dozen executions; one was a couple with a twelve-year-old boy. Bruce had broadcast that one out to the clan. He wanted them to know what they were fighting.

On a screen, Bruce saw Gene walking down the hallway to his room. He motioned Angela and Stephanie over to him as he pointed to his lap. They smiled and ran over. Bruce was of the mind that he didn’t care what he had to do to make them happy. Truth be told, if one had told him they wanted a piece of the moon, Bruce would try to get there.

When Gene locked his door, Matt turned on his computer. Gene put his stuff on the table, hung his rifle up, and saw Bruce with the girls in his lap. All of them were smiling at him. “Hold on, guys,” he said, stepping to the bathroom. Walking out, he smiled at the computer. “Sorry about that. I’ve been holding for a while,” he said, sitting down.

“Gene, how are you planning on dealing with Homeland? They have two thousand officers there, and we have seen quite a few executions just today,” Bruce asked.

“I’m working on that, Bruce,” he replied.

“I’ll try to think of something as well,” Bruce said. “Gene, just to let you know, your UAV will go bye-bye tomorrow. I’m getting ready to prepare my field of battle, and I want it gone,” Bruce said.

“Okay,” Gene replied then asked, “What do you mean prepare your field of battle?”

“We are moving out to wipe out the blues forward of your deployment line. Our count is in the thousands, but they are in small groups, mostly thirty to fifty strong, but I want them gone. I’m not deploying my troops with that many infected in the area,” Bruce said.

“What about my troops, Bruce?” Gene asked.

“Hey, y’all are coming here. I’m not preparing your area for you. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t want nothing to happen to your troops, but if something happens to you, I have to kill them anyway.”

“I understand, Bruce, but at least one regiment will be defecting to you when we deploy. I have talked to the Lt. Colonel over it. He’s a buddy, and he agrees this is our shot to get out of here and save America,” Gene said.

“That’s good, Gene, but you tell him when he defects, his troops will lay down their arms and equipment until this is over. They will be treated well and will not be harmed unless they try to harm us. We will have an area for them, and one of my groups will talk to them and explain why they are being kept separate from the clan.”

“Fair enough.”

“Gene, you need to find you ten loyal troops to surround yourself with at all times,” Bruce said.

“Why? What did you find out?” Gene asked.

“I think Givens will kill you if he can. He really wants to be the hero of this battle.”

“I’ve been feeling that a lot today.”

Stephanie cleared her throat. “Gene, how about getting ten more troops loyal to you and have them guard the general? That way if he plans something, they can tell you,” she said.

Gene just stared at her on his screen then looked at Bruce. “How do you find these smart, beautiful women, Bruce? I know you and have fought beside you and love you like a brother, but if I was a woman, I would pick me,” he said.

“It’s my hair,” Bruce said, rubbing his shaved head.

“Hey, we have the same barber now,” Gene said, rubbing his own shaved head.

Angela leaned forward and grinned. “He kinda grows on ya.”

Gene let out a laugh. “Yes, that he does,” he said. “Have you given any thought on how we are going to keep in touch when I’m in the field?”

“No,” Bruce replied.

Rubbing his face, Gene said, “Bruce, that is kind of important.”

“I wasn’t thinking about it because it’s been solved for some time,” Bruce said.

“Care to let me know?” Gene asked.

“Well, since you asked now, stay on your planned route down. Stop at the Arkansas welcome station, and go to the men’s bathroom. Inside the garbage can will be a computer and radio that you can talk to us on,” Bruce said.

Impressed, Gene asked, “You already have it there?”

“No, I have this tattletale plane over me. I think even Givens would get suspicious if he saw us moving up and down your travel corridor. It will be placed when we tell the groups in Arkansas and Oklahoma about this party,” Bruce said.

Gene stared at Bruce, slack-jawed. “You have a ton of shit in place that you haven’t told me about, don’t you?” he asked.

“Not even you would believe how much.”

“Bruce, I need to know some stuff.”

“Gene, I trust you with the lives of my kids and family, but if something happens to you and they make you talk, I have to be ready,” Bruce said candidly. “Once you get your protection squad, I will tell you much more. If something happens, your protection crew can buy you time to get out. I will say this; don’t ride in any chopper.”

“I understand, Bruce, and you’re doing the right thing,” Gene said. “I’m just trying to figure out a way to request it,” he admitted. Then, he caught what Bruce said at the end. “Don’t ride in a chopper?” he asked.

With a shit-eating grin, Bruce said, “Oh, you won’t have to ask for troops. They will be offered and on the chopper; just trust me,” and he winked.

“If you tell me your son has hacked someone’s brain, I’m locking myself in my closet,” Gene said.

Thinking that sounded neat, Bruce raised his eyebrows and leaned over to the side till he could look at Jake. “Can you do that?” he asked.

“Not yet, Dad, but I want to try,” Jake admitted.

Gene heard the exchange and just shook his head. “He says he can’t yet,” Bruce said.

“Okay, then how?” Gene asked.

“Jake is going to send the President an e-mail from one of the Homeland officers suggesting it.”

“What happens if the President talks to that officer?” Gene asked.

Not able to hold it, Bruce started laughing. “He can’t; he’s dead.”

Totally lost and worried about the conversation, Gene said, “So this agent sends an e-mail from Hell, and the President just accepts it?”

Bruce shook his head. “Gene, the boys tell me it’s called a blabbermouth program. You type in shit, and if you don’t type in a password every so often, like ’get killed,’ it sends out this information. They tell me many in the computer world do this. Me, I just have friends that will come and kill you,” Bruce said.

“I feel so old right now,” Gene said, rubbing his hands over his face. “You can make your computer reach out from the grave,” he mumbled.

“Well, the boys put one in this officer’s computer, and it will send the President this message tomorrow,” he said. Gene stared at the computer screen for minutes until Bruce asked, “What?”

“I want to ask you a question,” Gene stated.

“Okay.”

“When were you going to hit us?” he asked.

Looking away from the camera, Bruce answered, “After I found out you were there from Adam, I wasn’t,” Bruce answered.

“When?” Gene asked.

Bruce looked back at the screen. “Thanksgiving.”

“Where you going to try to save the people?” he asked.

“Yes, but the troops would have died in the airstrike, and it was going to be a big one. I’m just guessing, but I was expecting only a quarter of the civilians to make it through,” Bruce told him.

“Thank you, and to let you know,” Gene paused, “that is the right answer. We have to save America and mankind.”

“I’m glad to hear that from you, Gene,” Bruce said. “You will have a busy day tomorrow. I have the day off. Then, I’m going to take my troops and clear the area.”

“You deserve more than a day off, Bruce,” Gene said.

Moving in front of Bruce, Angela said, “We keep telling him the same thing.”

Bruce smiled. “We have too much to do, and that means suck it up and drive on,” he said.

“Hoorah,” Gene said.

“Hoorah, brother,” Bruce said. “Gene, someone will always be monitoring. As usual, if you need us, let us know. Listen to the radio show tomorrow,” Bruce said.

“I will, Bruce,” Gene said as the screen went blank.

Chapter 5

In Colorado the next morning, the technicians were sitting at the monitors, watching the three UAVs. One UAV was flying around their perimeter, one was following the supply groups in Alabama, and the other was flying in a circle around Base Hope in Louisiana. Others in the command room were watching monitors that were fed by cameras around the base.

At 0700 hours in Louisiana, they turned on the radar, and the flight technician sitting at the UAV console yelled, “Radar is on and tracking me!”

“Get the general!” the watch officer yelled out.

“Taking evasive action. They have lock!” the flight technician yelled. In Louisiana, the clan watched the Patriot system as a rocket shot out of one of the boxes racing up in the sky.

One of the monitor technicians called, “We have launch!” Ten seconds later, the screen went blank.

The flight technician looked around. “They got us,” he said.

Givens busted in the room wearing only boxers and t-shirts. “What?” he yelled.

“Sir, they turned on their radar and shot down our UAV,” the watch officer said.

Givens just stared at him as Gene came in the room. “What’s going on? We have a horde?” he asked.

“No sir, they shot down our UAV,” the watch officer replied.

“Surprised it took them that long,” Gene said, walking over to the coffee pot.

“You’re taking this pretty calm, Colonel!” Givens shouted as one of the President’s aides came in.

“Sir, we knew sooner or later they were going to turn it on. Officer, pull the UAVs following the supply groups out before we lose them,” Gene said, taking a sip of coffee.

Givens narrowed his eyes. “We just lost one of our UAVs, Colonel. We could have used it to launch a few rockets, taking out some of their aircraft,” he said.

Fighting not to laugh in Givens face, Gene took a deep breath. “Sir, think about that for a minute. If we had done that, they would have tracked the signal or seen where it went to land. Since we are the only ones around this area, they would know it’s us. Then, they could have sent planes, sir, not UAVs, to repay the bombing. Or worse yet watch us and see us leave and hit us en route,” Gene said.

“We still could’ve used it,” Givens grumbled.

“Sir, we lost some equipment. No men were involved,” Gene said and looked at the watch officer. “How long after the radar came on did they shoot us down?” he asked.

“Seconds, sir.”

“See, General, they don’t want air over them. They are worried about someone doing what you said. Dropping bombs on them,” Gene said, sitting down in a chair.

“Colonel, like you said before, we don’t have a lot of equipment,” Givens said.

“True, but we didn’t lose any men, sir,” Gene said. Givens snorted and walked out. “Watch officer, load up the recording. I want to know how much airspace they control.”

“Don’t have to, sir. They control the sky a hundred miles in any direction,” the officer told him. “Sir, I think you should also know we detected counter battery radar as well as Doppler.”

“They turned all of them on at the same time,” Gene said, smiling.

“Yes sir,” he said.

“Were they still bringing in equipment?” Gene asked.

“Yes sir. A convoy of a hundred trucks arrived at 0332 carrying choppers,” the officer said, looking at his notebook.

“How many choppers?”

“A hundred, sir.”

Gene spat his coffee, getting it on his chest. “A hundred,” he coughed, standing up.

“Yes sir, on that load. They have already brought in that many easy. I doubt there are many choppers left in Alabama, but they have moved to Georgia now. They hit every base in Bama, sir,” the officer said.

“Son, I haven’t been watching them for over a week. How much shit are they bringing back?” Gene asked.

“They have a hundred trucks pulling in fully loaded every five hours with a hundred trucks pulling out. They have a rotation system going really good, sir. There is always one hundred trucks at the area they are loading, a hundred heading back to be unloaded, a hundred being unloaded, and a hundred en route to be loaded,” the officer said.

“Damn, I wish I had their quarter master,” Givens said.

Nodding, the officer said, “Yes sir, their S-4 is top notch and has a shit load of equipment.”

“That means they are bringing in around eight thousand tons a day,” Gene said, making a few quick guesses out loud.

“I think it’s a lot more than that, sir. They are overloading the trucks but spacing their convoys out so not to overload bridges. I would put it closer to fifteen thousand tons a day,” the officer replied.

“How long did they spend at each post?”

“Most bases they spend two days, three at the larger ones.”

Gene shook his head. “Tell me how they are operating at the bases.”

“They have close to seven hundred people stripping the place down and bring it back to one area, usually away from everything. Each group has guards even though they have not encountered many infected. When they get close to emptying the base, half leave, going to the next base and start gathering stuff up. They leave some armor, artillery, vehicles, and such, but most everything else leaves with them,” the officer said.

Very impressed with Bruce’s group Gene looked at the officer. “They want a lot of shit, son,” he said, turning and walking out of the command center. Walking back in his room, he dressed and was thinking about going to talk to the troops when he heard a knock on his door. Gene shook his head. “Those boys of Bruce’s could almost be considered a menace,” he said, buttoning up his shirt.

Opening the door, he found one of the President’s aides. “Can I help you?” Gene asked.

“The President would like to see you, Colonel.”

Acting surprised, Gene asked, “I was going to check on the troops. How about at lunch?”

“Colonel, he said it was important,” the aide said and nodded his head out the door. Gene looked out in the hallway to see two Secret Service officers.

“Okay,” Gene said, turning around and getting his satchel bag. Stepping out in the hallway, he closed his door and followed the aide down the hall with the officers behind him. Gene knew what it was about but was silently praying that Jake and Matt knew what they were doing.

Walking outside, they crossed the compound to the President’s private area. The aide waved at the officers at the gate and the door, leading Gene in one of the main buildings. Gene saw the President sitting in a chair at a table with several other aides and Homeland officers. The President looked up and saw Gene walk in and looked around the table. “Gentlemen, would you excuse us? I need to talk to the Colonel,” the President said. They all left, leaving only the protection agents in the room.

“Colonel, please have a seat,” the President said.

Appearing calm Gene dropped down in the chair. “Thank you, sir.”

“I take it you want to know why you’re here?” the President asked.

“It crossed my mind, sir, and why the armed escort?” Gene replied.

“Colonel, I have received information that your life is in danger,” the President said.

“Sir, I’m a soldier. I’m always in danger,” Gene answered.

The President laughed. “A true soldier, but I mean inside the camp,” the President said.

Gene faked a good surprised look. “What?” he blurted.

“I can’t tell you how, but I must express to you that I need to place you under guard.”

Gene looked at the protection officers then back to the President. “Sir, you need your officers more than I do. I’m just a cog in the machine; you’re the operator.”

The President stood and walked over, patting Gene on the shoulder, and the two officers followed, standing behind him, watching Gene. “That is why I like you, Colonel. You see the world how it really is, but I have to correct you. You are ‘the cog’ of the machine. Without you, the machine doesn’t run.” The President told him pulling up a chair and sat beside Gene.

Fighting the urge to hit the man, Gene replied, “Thank you, sir.”

“No thanks; it’s the truth,” the President said. “That is why I want you under protection,” he added.

“Sir, I can’t take any of your protection for that,” Gene replied.

“Thank you, Colonel, but I was thinking some of your own troops. They love you and fight for you. I believe with my order, they will die for you,” the President said.

Actual shock hit Gene’s face as if someone threw cold water on him.
This idiot thinks people will die for him because he tells them to
, Gene thought. “Sir, thank you. I will grab a couple of troops to watch over me,” Gene finally got out.

“No, Colonel, you will assign a platoon to watch over you,” the President replied.

“Mr. President, the general only has two MPs to protect him at any given time,” Gene said.

“He’s not the cog I want protected, and Colonel, you will tell these troops they are to follow your orders only. The only exception is if they hear it come out of my mouth, looking me in the face,” the President said.

Gene looked at the President for several minutes, and when the President was fixing to ask if he understood, Gene spoke. “I understand, sir, crystal clear,” Gene said, making the President smile. “What is the general being told?” he asked.

“That there are rogue agents in Homeland that want you gone. Which is another reason I want you guarded by your own men.”

“Sir, can I ask that some of my troops guard him as well since he did threaten Homeland?” Gene asked.

The President smiled at him. “Would you like me to have him shot?” he asked.

Jumping back from the casual tone the President used, Gene gasped at the request and was about to answer when he noticed the computer in the corner blinking at him. When he looked at the screen, “
Don’t
” blinked two times, and the screen went blank. Looking back at the President, Gene shook his head. “No sir. He is my superior officer.”

“I knew you wouldn’t, but I had to make sure. I need people loyal to me not wanting to settle vendettas, but rest assured if the general tries anything, he will be dealt with. He still has his uses,” the President said.

Yeah, like killing for you,
Gene thought. “Yes sir, Mr. President,” he replied.

“Go pick your men, Colonel, and tell the general whatever you want,” he said.

“Yes sir. I will tell him you are worried about me because it was me who suggested the actions but want him protected because he ordered it.”

“Very good, Colonel,” the President said, handing him and envelope. “This is to show your troops. It is my order that they only listen to you.”

Gene took the envelope, stood, and saluted the President. “Thank you, sir,” he said.

The President waved his salute away. “Colonel, just get us in that compound so we can take back America,” the President said.

Gene wanted to tell him they could have done the same thing like build up an area but didn’t and smiled. “I will, sir,” Gene said, turning around and walking out. He stopped outside and let out a long breath as the phone in his pocket vibrated. Looking around, he saw a lot of people, so he headed toward the troop area. He didn’t want to pull out a cellphone and read a text when they weren’t supposed to work. The “it’s my iPod” would only work so many times.

Walking into a porta-potty, he closed the door and took out the phone, reading.

“If you would’ve said yes they were going to shoot you. The President wanted to make sure you were loyal to your superiors. Sorry they were talking about it on your walk over. Your room is now bugged, it’s under your bed Givens had it done. Trying to find the frequency for it so don’t talk in your room. They tried your computer but laughed at all the porn on it (sorry) and left it alone. Watch your ass.”

As he was reading the message the second time, the phone rang, scaring the shit out of him. The number came up Unknown. Gene pressed the answer button and timidly said, “Hello.”

“Sorry about the porn on your computer and not able to tell you about the President’s offer. He was going to have you killed only if you answered yes you wanted Givens killed. Once you picked up on the threat from Givens. He is scared of you because he knows the troops really like you,” Jake said.

Totally amazed, Gene asked, “Jake, how did you call me?”

“Duh, I’ve been sending you text messages for a month, Gene,” Jake said.

“Jake, that’s different. I’m talking to you now.”

“What is it with you? You’re just like Dad. It’s information I’m sending to the phone, be it my voice or a message,” Jake said in a big sigh.

“Your father is a wise man,” Gene said, glad he was not the only idiot Jake saw.

“I’m not replying to or denying that,” Jake said. “Give me a day on the bug, and I will burn it out.”

“Don’t worry about it; I will get rid of it,” Gene said.

“That could go badly.”

“Don’t worry; what can they do, ask me to give it back?”

“I’ve grown quite fond of you, Gene, so don’t start doing stupid shit.”

Laughing, Gene said, “That’s your father’s job, Jake. He wrote the book on stupid shit.”

“Believe me I know,” Jake said with a sigh that spoke volumes.

“When we meet and get some down time, I’ll give you a mountain of stupid shit he’s done.”

“That might be useful. Gene, be careful,” Jake said.

“I will, Jake. Keep in touch.”

“I will, but will you get you some ear plugs so that damn phone can at least pass for your iPod?”

“Give me ten minutes.”

“Okay, Gene. If you need us, just call. In case you don’t know how, look in history and hit the unknown number,” Jake said, hanging up.

“That kid is too smart for his own good,” Gene said out loud. A text message popped up.

“I heard that. Hang up your phone before you down grade someone.”

Chuckling as he read the message, Gene hung up the phone and walked out of the potty, heading to the troop area. Walking into the Ranger company tent, he told the captain to give him a platoon and some ear buds for his iPod. When the men were outside, Gene walked away, leading them to an open field and waved them closer.

Pulling out the letter from the President, he told them about the threats to him but named no one. They were to follow his orders only, and only the President standing in front of them could override that. The men looked at him in alarm, and he assured them the letter would stay on his body at all times. No repercussions would fall on them unless someone tried to kill him and them in the process.