Apocalyptic Visions Super Boxset (23 page)

***

The moment Eric saw Captain Howard’s face, he regretted agreeing to a video call. Howard’s stone-wall expression didn’t make it easier for him to ask for something he knew the military couldn’t afford.

“You want a plane?” Howard asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“To fly to North Carolina and transport a woman and her two children.”

“That’s correct, sir.”

“Lieutenant, are you aware of the war that’s happening right now?”

“I am, sir.”

“You do realize you’ve already destroyed one of my jets.”

“I do remember that, sir. I did manage to make it all the way back to the runway, though. I think that should count for something.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Lieutenant, I understand your personal relationship with the family, but I cannot allow you to take one of our aircraft for the purpose of three individuals. Even if I did, how do you expect to land at an airport without any preadvised flight plans? From a region publicly disowned by the United States government?”

“I thought I would just ask nicely… sir.”

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but your request is denied.”

“Then you can consider this my resignation, Captain.”

“What?”

“I’ll be escorting the family to North Carolina on the ground.”

“Eric, we need you here. You taking that family to the east coast won’t help us win this war.”

“You told me that winning this war was just as much about giving the people something to believe in as it was fighting in battle. So that’s what I’m doing. I’m giving that family something to believe in.”

It was the first moment in the conversation that the captain’s stony expression showed anything but militarized control. Eric could see the slightest hint of a smile and hoped that the conversation was recorded so he could use it as blackmail later.

“All right, Lieutenant. Good luck.”

“Thank you, Captain. Or I guess I can just call you by your first name now, which, come to think of it, I don’t know. I guess I always assumed your first name was Captain. What is it? Wait! No, don’t tell me. I bet I can guess. Carl? Ben? Frank?”

“Goodbye, Lieutenant.”

***

When Eric couldn’t acquire the plane ride home, Brooke felt deflated for a moment, but when he added that the mechanics were almost done repairing the cruiser, she felt a little better. It was still going to be hard, but having her cruiser back was better than nothing.

“And I’m coming with you,” Eric said.

“What?”

“Oh, did your hearing get damaged during the attack? Sorry. I’M COMING WITH YOU,” Eric said, shouting the last part and repeating it slowly. Brooke covered her ears and smacked Eric’s arm.

“Don’t they need you here?” Brooke asked.

“They do. I’m quite the commodity right now.”

“Eric, I can’t ask you to do this. There’s no guarantee that we’ll make it, and if we get caught, we’ll be thrown in jail. You’ll be tried as a deserter, or worse.”

“It’s my decision.”

“You’ve done enough. Really, Eric, it’s fine.”

“It’s too late, Brooke. I already resigned from active duty. Well, technically I guess I resigned from participating in an organized militia, but you get the point. You’re stuck with me for a little longer.”

Despite her objections, she was glad he was coming along. Having the experience of a seasoned military veteran couldn’t hurt her chances of making it across the country.

Brooke made sure to replenish their supplies. The base had plenty of water, food, medicine, and ammo to spare at the moment. It would take anywhere from four to five days to get to North Carolina from Phoenix. And that was if they drove consistently with minimal breaks and didn’t run into any trouble.

The mechanics did a great job with the cruiser. The sides were still riddled with bullet holes, and the battery was shot to hell, but the spare battery Brooke had charged at the solar station acted as an excellent substitute. In addition to repairing the engine, they gave her two new tires and replaced the shattered windshield and side windows. Brooke knew the bullet holes would be a problem once they made it into Texas and were driving through the states. It didn’t make for the most inconspicuous mode of transportation, but she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

Everything was loaded up when Colonel Brack started heading their way.

“I’ll be right back,” Eric said.

Brooke wasn’t sure what the colonel wanted. Would he try and stop them? Did they want payment? Would they have to return the supplies? She watched the two of them talk. Neither of them raised their voices. And her worries melted when she watched the two men shake hands.

“What was that about?” Brooke asked.

“Nothing. Just some well wishes.”

Eric avoided looking at her when he answered. Brooke couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw him wipe his eyes. Whatever had been said was meant for his ears. She wasn’t going to pry.

After some bickering over who would drive, Eric reluctantly slid into the passenger side while Brooke climbed into the driver’s seat. With John and Emily buckled up in the back, Brooke cranked the engine to life, and a piece of her came to life along with it. She was back in her car, restocked, with her family, and they had an extra person to help them in their journey. North Carolina felt a little bit closer than the day before.

Captain Howard kept a watchful eye on the four U.S. warships to the west that had yet to leave the area. During his fight with the Mexicans, his former comrades had remained motionless. What was even more odd was the fact that Mexican military ignored the four warships as well. During the skirmish, Gallo’s forces only attacked the men under Howard’s command. They’d lost quite a few jets, but the
USS Ronald Reagan
remained intact. Howard attributed the victory to Gallo’s lack of presence in the water and his own pilots’ superior training.

The aircraft carrier was operating on a skeleton crew. Howard could see the weariness in his men’s eyes. He knew Gallo was regrouping, gathering his resources for a final blow. It wouldn’t be something they would survive.

“Captain?” Master Chief Petty Officer Pint asked.

“Yes?”

“Captain Ford is on the line for you.”

Howard grabbed the phone from Pint and pressed it to his ear. Whatever the reason for Ford’s call right now, it couldn’t be good.

“Captain Howard speaking.”

“This is Captain Ford of the
USS Stockdale
. I have been ordered to take your men and reclaim the United States property that you are in possession of.”

“Ford, this isn’t the right move.”

“We will be approaching your starboard and port sides. If you engage us, we will fire upon you.”

The line clicked dead before Howard had a chance to reply. He wasn’t sure what type of leverage the politicians in Washington were pressing on Ford, but Howard knew that he wasn’t going to fight against the sailors he used to command. There had been enough bloodshed.

Howard waited on the flight deck for Ford’s arrival. When the helicopter touched down on the deck of the carrier, the gusts of wind blew Howard’s uniform backward, pressing it tightly against his body. Ford kept his head low while stepping off the chopper. He was escorted by two MPs.

The chopper’s blades slowly wound down, and the gusts of air ceased. Howard kept his aviators on and stood at attention. He knew Ford well. The two of them had gone through officer’s school together.

Ford was a shorter man, but what he lacked in height he made up for in vigor. He had risen through the ranks with discipline and intelligence. Ford worked it by the book. Every time. No exceptions. Howard knew that he had a reputation for being a hardass, but even he bent the rules now and again. Unlike Howard, Ford was a piece of unyielding steel.

“Hello, Captain,” Howard said

.

“Howard, I’ll need to speak with you in private for a moment.”

Ford excused the MPs, and Howard and Ford began to walk along the deck of the
USS Ronald Reagan
. Ford didn’t speak for the longest time. He just kept glancing around the ship. Blood stained the deck. The blood of United States Navy sailors.

“My contacts in Washington have informed me that Gallo’s fleet is regrouping just off the Baja peninsula. They should be arriving here this afternoon,” Ford said.

“How many ships does he have?”

“Enough to wipe out the rest of your men. Washington doesn’t want to lose any more of its resources in this ‘conflict.’ I’ll be taking command of the ship, and we’ll be heading south through the Panama Canal.”

“I assume you’ll want to proceed immediately.”

“I do, but per protocol before any long voyage, my men will be inspecting the ship to ensure it’s sea ready. Since this carrier has recently seen battle and has not been under the command of any official United States military officers, the inspection could take some time.”

Howard smiled. He slowed his pace and turned to Ford, who was still looking out into the sea. One of the warships under his command was parked straight ahead.

“I suppose if Gallo’s men choose to engage us, it will be an act of war on the United States, seeing as this ship is now under my command. If that happens, I will have no choice but to retaliate with deadly force,” Ford said.

***

Once Jones received word that Ford had taken control of the
USS Ronald Reagan
, he immediately phoned Gallo. The conversation was brief. “All clear” was all that was said before he disconnected the call.

Howard and his men provided a minor setback, but with that taken care of, Jones knew that the rest of the pestering militia that still plagued the Southwest would be eradicated. Gallo’s next move would be the final blow.

Now Jones could focus his attention on more pressing issues with Smith and his scientist. He had put a tail on Smith and his staff members, but so far nothing had turned up. He had no idea where Smith was stashing the doctor, and he had heard nothing from Daniel after their conversation. Hopefully something would turn up by the afternoon.

Jones sidelined his thoughts on Smith for the moment and headed to his meeting with the vice president. Johnson would play a pivotal role in Jones’s next step. While the vice president lacked certain “political” talents, his popularity with the public was unmatched. The good ol’ boy image still carried a lot of weight, and Jones wanted to capitalize on that quickly.

He was to meet the vice president at the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, where his staff resided. When Jones was escorted into the VP’s main office, Johnson was munching on a roast beef sandwich.

“Congressman, you’ll have to excuse the food. Busy day,” Johnson said.

“It’s quite all right, Mr. Vice President.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, no. I’m fine. Big breakfast this morning.”

“So, what can I help you with?”

“Well, honestly, sir, I just wanted to take the time to come over and thank you. Your support of my bill was as important to me as the president’s. The American people are always calmer when you’re able to put your name to something.”

Johnson waved him off. A breadcrumb rested on the corner of his mouth. Jones wanted to reach over and smack it off his face, but he refrained and tried to drown out the vice president’s incessant chewing.

“I was wondering if I could pick your brain on something else?” Jones asked.

Johnson swallowed the bite of his sandwich. “I’ll do my best, Congressman.”

“It’s no secret that tensions with the Mexican government have been high. The water shortages have affected the entire continent.”

“We’ve tried to extend the olive branch, Congressman, but they were being unreasonable.”

“I think we should try again,” Jones said.

Johnson wiped his fingers on a napkin. He leaned back in his seat and rested his hands on his stomach. He flicked his tongue against his teeth, making sure there weren’t any remnants of the sandwich stuck there.

“What makes you so confident it will work this time?” Johnson asked.

“I think a collaboration of sorts could benefit both countries. Now’s the time to band together.”

“That’s not exactly what your bill accomplished for our country, Congressman.”

“It was unfortunate, but necessary. Much like an alliance with Mexico.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Water.”