Braving The Storms (Strengthen What Remains Book 3) (10 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Olympia, Friday, September 25
^th

Caden wanted to break Hutchison’s finger. He clenched his fist and considered using it across the colonel’s jaw. “I interviewed refugees from your area. One said his wife was sick. An ambulance picked her up and hours later he was told she was dead.”

“Does he think we killed her?”

“He said she wasn’t that sick. Then he told me soldiers forced him and his family out of town.”

Hutchison shook his head. “Sure, we pick up sick people, but we don’t kill them. Are you isolating the sick? So am I. Are you trying to keep infected refugees out of populated areas? So am I.”

“Refugees from your area infected Morton.”

Hutchison smirked. “Who lives in Morton?”

“Just about no one—now.”

“Attention!”

“At ease, gentlemen.” General Harwich strode into the room. “Let’s be seated and get this started.”

Without another word, Hutchison walked away.

Immediately behind Harwich a general and admiral entered the room. Caden didn’t recognize either of them. They were followed by Dr. Eaton, the man who had given the Kern flu briefing just a few days earlier. All of them sat along the top table except General Harwich. He remained standing.

“This will probably be the last face-to-face meeting until the pandemic is over.” The general slowly scanned the room. “Realistically, we knew containment of the Kern flu would be impossible. Unfortunately, we were entirely correct in that assessment.”

The general nodded at a young lieutenant. The lights dimmed and a map appeared on the whiteboard. “As you see, we have a growing number of confirmed cases in Vancouver, Longview, Yakima, Pullman, and Spokane. In addition, there are many suspected cases in a dozen other cities and towns. The only town that has gone from red to clear is Hansen. Dr. Eaton is certain that will remain a rarity.”

Caden smiled broadly and glanced at Colonel Hutchison.

The general moved to the other side of the whiteboard. “Beyond our state … ah, next slide please … the flu is entrenched in all the larger cities under constitutionalist control … Portland, Boise, Denver, well, you see the state of affairs.”

Caden studied the map. Red dots pinpointed all the cities Harwich mentioned and many others in the constitutionalist area, such as Boise, Salt Lake, and Omaha.

“It’s only been a few days,” someone said.

“Yes.” The general nodded. “We appear to have consistently underestimated both the speed and the deadliness of this flu.”

“Is there any progress in making a vaccine?” the captain beside Caden asked.

“Not yet.” Dr. Eaton rose. “Several medical centers are attempting to grow the virus in the lab, but that has not yet been accomplished.”

“Shouldn’t you be trying to kill the virus, not make more of it?” the captain replied.

Eaton smiled. “We need a controlled supply so we can find ways to kill it.”

The officer across from Caden shook his head. “So, this is why we’re here? For an update on the flu?”

“Actually, no. We have a potentially bigger problem. The spread of the flu has not been as great in the eastern portion of the country. While this will change, our source inside the Durant administration tells us that during this period, when our forces are more seriously affected, he will launch a major offensive, codenamed Operation Hellhound, to eliminate the new congress, kill acting president John Harper, and Governor Monroe.”

Gasps and murmurs filled the air.

“Why would Durant want to kill the governor?” Hutchison asked.

Caden faced the colonel. “Governor Monroe is a leader of the political opposition to Durant and the likely next president in the constitutionalist states—that’s why.” He looked back to General Harwich. “Durant would need it done before the November election and have plausible deniability of his involvement.”

“I agree.” Harwich nodded. “Our source indicates that Durant loyalists are working with a traitor in this area to coordinate an attack, but that is all we know.”

“So we don’t know when?” someone asked.

“No.” Harwich shook his head. “However, we have indications that it will be soon.”

Hutchison tapped a pen on the table. “What are those clues?”

“Those ‘clues’, as you call them, are on a need-to-know basis. However, we can reveal some that concern us, here in the northwest. I’ll let Admiral Wallace begin that portion.”

The admiral stood and looked to the back of the room. “Would you put up the Pacific tactical map?” He pointed to a course plotted on the chart, and continued. “One of our attack submarines is following a Chinese navel battlegroup on a course that will lead it to the Strait of Juan de Fuca. The battlegroup includes five type 71 and 72a amphibious warfare ships. They could have 4,000 marines onboard along with tanks and other vehicles.”

Tension filled the room and churned in Caden’s stomach. “What do we plan to do?”

“Nothing for right now.” The admiral sighed. “President Harper in Denver has warned the Chinese not enter the strait.”

Caden wondered how threatening the words of a seventy-eight year old acting president of half a country would be.

The admiral continued. “We’re no longer in a position to challenge the Chinese navy on the open seas. However, both the air force and navy will monitor the Chinese as they approach our waters.

“The Canadians have pledged to keep all Chinese ships and subs out of their waters. As the battlegroup approaches our coast they will enter the Strait of Juan de Fuca and hug the American coast. When that occurs we will challenge them.”

Hutchison rubbed his chin. “What if they make their attack from off the coast?”

The air force general leaned forward. “If the Chinese launch any sort of attack our forces will respond appropriately.”

The meeting had been going for nearly two hours when Caden stifled a yawn.

General Harwich stood. “If there are no more questions, I’m going to call it a night. Oh, one more thing. Governor Monroe will be leaving tonight for an undisclosed location. He will remain there until this current situation is over.”

Caden rubbed his face as he left the room. It had been that kind of meeting—things were bad and they would get worse. He felt drained. When he noticed Hutchison up ahead, he hung back. He had made his point and had little desire for more conflict.

Outside, Caden spotted the three vehicles from the armory. As he walked toward them he wondered why General Harwich had asked him to bring the extra Humvees and men.

Five men stood in a tight group between the Humvees. One carried a large steel briefcase. Caden could see only two faces, but didn’t know either. He tensed and glanced about. His men seemed relaxed. He continued toward the five. As he drew one turned and saluted.

“Governor Monroe requests you join him in your vehicle.”

A bit confused he opened the back door of his car. Immediately he recognized the governor’s chief-of-staff. Caden smiled, stepped inside and thrust out his hand. “Hi, David. What’s going on?”

Weston clasped his hand. “Congratulations, you’re the winner. I’m playing governor tonight and going home with you.”

“What? But you’re not the—.”

“Let’s get this convoy moving. I’ll explain on the way.”

The driver headed south as Weston continued. “Governor Monroe and his family will leave later for Colorado Springs. If Durant launches an offensive the governor will work with the military from there. Meanwhile, I’m the decoy if something happens here.”

“So you want people to believe the governor is still here and with me?”

Weston nodded.

“How can you be sure the traitor will learn that you … that is, Monroe … left with me?”

Weston gave him an incredulous glance. “First of all it’s easier to leak something than keep it secret and, did you notice anyone else arrive for this meeting with three vehicles and a squad of soldiers.”

“The general asked me to bring them. I don’t know … oh, you planned the decoy before the meeting.”

“You’re catching on.” Weston smiled. “You probably noticed the steel case one of the soldiers carried.”

Caden nodded.

“That is a KY-68 secure phone so we can keep in better contact with command.”

“Well, that’ll be helpful, but how do you know I’m not the assassin?”

Weston smiled, but Caden thought he saw sadness mixed in. “Someday I hope I can tell you how I know you’re not the traitor.”

* * *

Hollister Hotel, Sunday, September 27
^th

Zach slapped at the windup alarm clock. When sufficient blows had silenced it, he rolled to a seated position, yawned, and walked across the cool room. He grabbed his clothes from a chair and dressed quickly.

Vicki and DeLynn would have to set the fish traps this morning. With most of his homework done, the toilet installed, and at least one light working in each room, he would spend his birthday on a hunting trip. He could almost taste the fresh meat and, what they didn’t eat, he would sell. If Vicki and DeLynn wanted a party, they could have it tonight.

After dressing in brown trousers and a pale green shirt, he stumbled to the kitchen to find something to eat, but instead found an unfamiliar lunch box. A yellow sticky note hung from the side with a smiley face and read, “Love, DeLynn.” Inside he found a thermos with soup, two sandwiches, and a cell phone with another sticky note. This one read, “Call me, if you get bored.”

Where did she get an extra phone? He searched the device to set it on vibrate just in case DeLynn got bored, and called at an inopportune moment. As he fumbled with the phone he discovered it belonged to DeLynn’s mother, Karen. He considered returning it, but he knew no one would be awake. Finally he set it to vibrate, slid the phone into a pocket, and the lunch box into his backpack.

With a smile on his face and feeling much warmer, he stuffed an orange hunting vest and flashlight into his pack. Then, near the door of the penthouse, he grabbed the antique lever- action 30-30, he had traded venison and fish for earlier in the year.

As he hiked from town he considered his exact destination. In the past he had noticed that hunters seemed to prefer downhill treks. He would proceed uphill in the general direction of the armory. To avoid getting shot by inexperienced hunters, he put on the hunting vest as he entered the forest. Vicki, DeLynn, and even some guys he knew, would be nervous walking in the woods before dawn, but it never bothered him.

A twig snapped to his right.

He stopped and listened for a moment, but heard nothing. He recalled coming across a pack of wild dogs nearby.
Okay, I almost never get nervous.
Certain the twig had not been a dog pack, he continued.

Fifteen minutes later, Zach came out of the woods into chest high grass along a muddy path. A stream splashed a few yards ahead, but in the predawn darkness, he couldn’t see it.

Something rustled against the nearby grass.

The breeze was gentle and in Zach’s direction. He kneeled, slid the rifle from his shoulder, and breathed slowly.

Thirty yards ahead a large buck lifted its head from the grass.

Since the animal foraged in his general direction, Zach waited for a closer shot.

The buck ambled back and forth along the path, casually eating.

Visions of venison steaks filled Zach’s head.

The buck’s head jumped into the air and looked back, the way it came. Ears twitched. The animal galloped forward.

Startled Zach fell backwards.

A yard from him, the animal reared up.

Hoofs danced inches from Zach’s head.

Then the animal spun and raced into the trees.

What in the name of heaven just happened? Why did the buck charge? Was that a rut behavior?

He sat there for a moment, trying to figure it out, when he heard more rustling in the grass. Cautiously he lifted his head.

A squad of camouflaged soldiers crept toward him.

Chapter Nineteen

Hansen Armory, Sunday, September 27
^th

David Weston opened his eyes and reached for the phone that vibrated and hummed on the nightstand beside him. “Weston here.”

“The individual has been identified.”

Weston recognized the voice and sat up in bed. From the cryptic phrase he knew they had identified the spy. “Who is it?”

“They’re not yet in custody, so I’d rather not say.”

“Okay. When can I return to Olympia?”

“Not right now. Operation Hellhound is in full swing. The Chinese are near the strait and, we believe, a special ops unit has deployed to kill the governor.”

Weston rubbed his face. He knew that any unit out to kill Governor Monroe would actually be on his trail and, if they found him, most likely kill him. “I understand.” He grabbed his pants and shirt from the back of the chair, and went to find Caden.

* * *

Near the Hansen Armory, Sunday, September 27
^th

For just a moment Zach thought he should announce his presence, but he didn’t and slid down into the grass while he considered what to do. The pre-dawn glow did not provide enough light to identify the soldiers, but they were in standard army ACUs—they had to be from the armory. He must have stumbled into some sort of exercise. No. He quit two days ago and there hadn’t been any maneuvers planned.

Zach knelt and stretched until he could see through the tops of the grass. The soldiers weren’t following the path. He dropped his head down below the stalks. Perhaps they didn’t know about the trail. Their course would take them a few yards south of him. Using the trail, he moved away.

When he reached the cover of rocks and trees, Zach lay between two boulders and watched. Eight soldiers moved through the grass almost without a sound. The only squad scheduled to be at the armory this weekend was Sixth Squad, a bunch of recruits. The men Zach watched didn’t move like newbies. Except for the rustle of grass and an occasional snap of a twig they crept forward with stealth.

Whoever these soldiers were, they advanced ever closer to the armory, less than a mile away.

Zach’s stomach churned so much that he worried the soldiers might hear. He needed to do something, but what?

In the distance he spotted more soldiers crossing the meadow, and counted a total of sixteen, but doubted he saw them all.

This had to be an exercise.

He continued to watch when someone stepped from the tree line several hundred yards downstream. In the soft morning light Zach could only be certain the person had a rifle and wore civilian clothes.

Two soldiers moved toward the hunter with rifles at the ready.

The man held up his hands with the rifle in one.

Another soldier came up behind him, whipped out a large knife, and slit his throat.

Zach struggled to breathe as he slid backwards, and around bramble and brush, until the forest bush surrounded him. He wanted to run in panic, but that would get him killed. As he fought to control both his breath and emotions, he recalled a nearby gully. With slow, steady movements he removed his backpack and orange hunting vest. Then he stuffed the vest in the backpack. He planned to crouch low, reach the gully, and head away from the soldiers.

No.

These killers were the enemy and his friends at the armory were, almost certainly, their target. He had to warn them.

But how?

As he watched, the soldiers reached the tree line. The closest would soon pass ten yards from him and he still had no idea what to do.

Then he recalled the phone DeLynn had passed to him. Holding his breath he slid the backpack from his shoulders and pulled out the phone inch but slow inch. Breathing quietly he stared at the device unable to do anything. He never owned a cell phone, and rarely used one. They didn’t even have a landline at the trailer. He didn’t know any phone numbers. Panic rose within him again.

He did know one number, DeLynn’s. He rolled into a ball and punched the numbers.

“Zach? Is that you? I didn’t expect you to call so early?”

“What’s the number for the armory?” He could barely hear himself.

“Why are you whispering? I can’t hear you.”

He tried again, but she still couldn’t hear and he dared talk no louder.

A text box appeared on the screen with a click. He immediately turned the sound off. “R U OK? What do u need?”

He started typing his reply but changed his mind. “Need # 4 Caden Westmore.”

“Why?”

“Tell u later. Pls hurry.”

His stomach churned and every sound of the forest caused his heart to race. Finally, the number appeared on the screen. Then another box, “What’s going on? UR scaring me.”

“Later. Got to go.” Zach hung up and texted Caden.

* * *

Hansen Armory, Sunday, September 27
^th

Caden sat on the bunk in his office, wiped an eye with one hand, and squinted at the message with the other. Word that the base would soon be under attack didn’t surprise him, but that the news came from a Karen Hollister somewhere in the nearby forest, did. Using his thumbs he typed out a quick reply. “Who R U?”

“FM Zach. Borrowed a phone. I’m 1/2m WNW of Armory. 16 soldiers moving ESE toward base. They killed a hunter.”

“RG. Stay on phone & both u and Karen get out of there.”

Weston burst into the room, still buttoning his shirt. He looked pale and disheveled, not at all like the man Caden had seen so often before. “Operation Hellhound … they’re coming.”

“Actually, they’re here.” Caden said flatly.

Weston moaned.

Caden stood, arched his back, and wished for coffee. “Sergeant!”

Rubbing his eyes, the soldier stepped into the doorway. “Yes, sir.”

“Get everyone awake and ready for combat. Do it quick but quiet. The armory is going to be attacked. This is not a drill.”

The sergeant closed his mouth and swallowed. “Yes, sir.” He turned and ran down the hall.

* * *

Near the Hansen Armory, Sunday, September 27
^th

Zach needed no further encouragement than Caden’s order to leave. Staying as low as possible he crept to the gully and moved north, away from both the soldiers and the armory. When several hundred yards separated him from the threatening soldiers, Zach turned in the direction of a nearby road.

His stomach churned less now and breathing came easier. He pulled out the phone DeLynn gave him.

Caden had left several messages asking his location and if he were okay.

Zach started to type out a reply, but stopped. He couldn’t leave. His friends were in danger and he could provide valuable intel about the enemy position and strength. He would use a wide arch route to reach a rock outcrop that would serve as a good observation post.

He typed a new reply. “Heading toward rock outcrop NW of armory. Will signal when close. The moment he sent it he knew it was a foolish plan. The soldiers in the forest would kill to keep their presence unknown and, if the armory soldiers spotted him, they might shoot. Friendly fire was rarely friendly.

Caden’s reply vibrated the phone. “No! Get out of area. That’s an order!”

“Not in the military and, XO shud have told u, I quit job on Fri. Will tell u when I’m in position.” Then he hastily added. “Pls don’t shoot me.” Zach stuffed the phone in his right trouser pocket and stepped up the hill.

Loose gravel gave way and he fell hard, scraping his right arm and leg.

Great start to my heroic plan.
He held his breath for several seconds as he listened to the world around him. Only the breeze rustled in his ears.

Carefully, Zach stood and climbed the hill toward the rocks and trees that he knew would hide him. Still, every twig or mat of fir needles would shout his presence if he stepped wrong.

He wasn’t a military strategist, but as the light grew Zach wondered if the soldiers were behind schedule. In every war movie he’d ever seen, the sneak attack came at night, not after dawn. He continued up the hill aware that, as dawn drew near, the cover of darkness faded for both the soldiers and him. Even when the granite boulders and ancient fir trees came into view, he worried the morning light might reveal him.

Between his own steps a twig snapped. The sound came from the east, not from the west as Zach expected. He dismissed it as an animal, but then another twig broke and another. Creeping to the top of a nearby knoll he peered over. Five soldiers stood in a group just ten yards away. They appeared to be consulting a map. Zach grinned at the thought of them being lost, but then they turned and headed in the direction of the armory.

As he slid below the top of the knoll, he spotted another soldier advancing west. Panic surged within him. Like a vise, one group of at least five soldiers advanced from the east, another group of sixteen came from the west. If he didn’t get to cover, he would be caught and killed as the vise grip of soldiers grew ever tighter.

He took several deep drafts of air and moved with all the stealth he could muster toward the rocky cover.

* * *

Hansen Armory, Sunday, September 27
^th

Caden studied the topographical map of the area spread out on the conference room table. He looked up when David Weston returned with Lieutenant Brooks.

The XO studied the map. “What’s the situation?”

“Zach reported sixteen soldiers advancing on our position from the northwest. About here.” He tapped the chart.

Weston looked at the map. “Are you sure they’re out there?”

“Yes.” Caden nodded and returned his gaze to the map. “The boy is reliable. I just hope he’s safe.”

“What is he doing out there?” Brooks sat at the table. “He quit on Friday. Sorry, with this Operation Hellhound situation, I forgot to tell you.”

“Yes, he mentioned that he quit, but apparently that’s a difficult concept for him. He’s acting as a spotter.”

“Where exactly?” Brooks leaned in closer to the map.

“I don’t know.” Caden shook his head. “He said he was going to a rock outcrop northwest of the base, but I’ve never explored these woods. I don’t know where that would be and the call ended several minutes ago. We’ve had no word since.”