Dark Coup (8 page)

Eric was stunned for a second and then it hit him, and, grieving or not, he was smart enough to bite his tongue.

“Nothing?” Kyle asked.

“Nope,” Eric said.  “This is your baby, your turn to talk.”

“So, what’s my problem?”  Kyle asked.  “What’s so wrong that I’d desert?  I’ve wasted a
decade
on her, Eric.  Ten years I’ve been in the unit.  I was the one who was there for her when that POS husband of hers left.  I’m the one who…convinced him that it would be a bad idea to go after her for alimony.”

Kyle looked over at Eric with death in his eyes, “That does not leave this tent, ever.  You don’t tell anyone, you don’t ever tell Mallory, you don’t even bring it up with me again.  Clear?”

“As glass,” Eric said.

Kyle nodded.  “I know I haven’t been her right hand, but when something needed to get done I took care of it.  She knows who she can count on, and over the last ten years I’ve passed up more than one promotion to stay where I am, or where I was.”

“Eric, I’d even have left the Army if I had to, because of the BS regulations about relationships between Officers and Enlisted and chain-of-command.  But now there’s Mr. Wonderful, Mr. Super Hero, Major Ben Franklin.  He had his own base, and his own command, and everything. He even saved her life.” 

“So,” Eric said, “is this just your observation, or has something happened?”

Eric saw Kyle’s hand tighten into a fist and was glad there wasn’t something in it.

“It started on the day we lost access to the satellites,” Kyle said.  “I rounded the corner and caught the Majors in an embrace.  I did an about-face before either of them saw me, but from what I did see, it was a real doozey.”

“They’re old friends from boot, Kyle.”  Eric said.  “They hadn’t seen each other in a long time.  Plus, he’d just pulled our fat out of the fire in a big way.”

“Not done,” Kyle said and held up his hand.  “About three weeks ago I was on my way to discuss something with the Major and I overheard a conversation,” Kyle said.

“Stop, Kyle, I don’t want to know.” Eric said.

“I can’t stop now, Eric,” Kyle said.

Eric sighed.  “Ok, but don’t go too far.”

“Fair enough,” Kyle said.  “She was talking to,” Kyle paused and glanced at Eric, “somebody, about relationships, and at the time they were discussing Major Franklin and, well, my name came up as well.  The Major, our Major, is developing a thing for Ben.  And while there may or may not have been some sort of feelings under the surface for me at some point in the past, it’s water under the bridge.  We were both in the same chain-of-command, etc.”

Kyle paused for a second and then continued, “Now she’s an officer and that relationship is strictly forbidden, and frankly, apparently, I’m not showing the ‘signs of growth’ that she would like to see.”  Kyle gritted his teeth.

“I’m not showing signs of growth?” Kyle growled.  “I’m not seeing signs that I need to grow.  I’m not seeing signs of anything coming my way, why should I be trying to grow?”

 “How long did you listen?”  Eric asked.

“About three minutes.”  Kyle said.  “It’s amazing how nobody pays you any attention when you stand there looking like a guard.”

“Man, that is so wrong on so many levels,” Eric said.

“And I wish I had never heard the first word.”  Kyle said.

“Two days,” Eric said after it was obvious that Kyle was done.

“I can work with that,” Kyle said, “and in the meantime we need to work on your rig.”

“How so,” Eric asked.

“That old Alice frame you scrounged up is for the birds,” Kyle said.  “Sure they hold a ton-and-a-half, but if you drop the frame wrong and bust a rivet, it’s all over.  Before things went south, I found a modification called a ‘Hellcat’…”

Chapter Eight

“Got a minute,” Joel asked Eric when he saw him in camp a couple of days later.

“Sure,” Eric said.  “What’s up?”

“Actually,” Joel said, “that’s my line.”

Eric made a confused face and Joel shook his head.  “Walk with me,” Joel said, and then turned away from the more populated portion of the camp they were in without checking that Eric was following him.  After a few steps Eric caught up.

“What’s going on Eric?” Joel asked.

“Meaning,” Eric asked cautiously.

Joel didn’t even sigh.  He’d been playing a similar game with his two teenage kids for a number of years, so he just laid out the evidence.  “You have been in mourning, understandably, since Karen passed away,” Joel said.  “Now, literally out of nowhere, you are engaged in daily life again.  You’re talking to people, not as though nothing happened, but you appear to have either skipped four or five stages of grief and gone straight to acceptance, or you went through them at a record-setting pace.”

Joel turned to Eric.  “Or, you’ve found something else to occupy your time and energy, at least for the short term.  What is it,” Joel asked.  “Not
which
is it, because I know which one it is.  What is it, and how is Kyle involved?”

Eric didn’t respond right away because he didn’t know what to say.  He couldn’t just tell Joel they were leaving; it wasn’t entirely up to him.  Just then, Eric’s radio came to life.

“Eric,” Kyle’s voice came through loud and clear and Eric closed his eyes.  “I need to talk to you.”

Eric grabbed his radio and responded.  “Actually, why don’t you meet me…?”

…

“So, I see he found you, too,” Kyle said when he saw Joel was with Eric outside of the entrance to the parking lot.

Joel folded his arms and looked from Eric to Kyle and back.  “What is going on with you two?”

Eric glanced at Kyle, who nodded slightly, and then took a small breath.  “I’m leaving,” Eric said.  “And Kyle’s coming with me.”

Whatever Joel was expecting, this hadn’t been it, and his mouth dropped open until it closed with an audible click.  It was obvious he was taking a moment to think his words over before speaking. Eric started to say something, but Joel cut him off with a curt head shake.  “I don’t want to know.  Plausible deniability,” he said.  “I’ve been married long enough to know that what I don’t know can’t kill me.  Hurt me yes, kill me, no.”

Joel took a deep breath and looked at both of them again.  “Where to,” he asked, “when?”

“We’re not entirely sure, but,” Eric paused at Joel’s raised eyebrows.  “I need to go, Kyle does too.  We’re leaving tonight.”

“Tonight,” Joel yelled, then looked around to see if anyone had noticed his micro-outburst.  “Why so…never mind.  I said I didn’t want to know.  Are you sure you’re ready?”

“No,” Kyle snorted, “but we’re as ready as we’re ever going to be.”

“Probably about right,” Eric said.

Joel’s mind was racing; trying to process what he felt would be the impact of losing both Eric and Kyle.  Wondering if there was anything he could do or say to keep them from leaving, or if there was anything that he could do or provide that would help his friends on their journey.

Joel let out a breath and decided on the latter.  “Do you need anything from me before you go?”

Eric and Kyle looked at each other with a bit of surprise at Joel’s reaction.

“I’m serious,” Joel said.  “I’m not going to go running to Mallory, or anyone else for that matter.  If they haven’t figured out that something is up then it’s their loss, and frankly,” Joel looked at Kyle when he said the next bit, “their lack of situational awareness is no skin off my nose.”

Kyle grinned, but didn’t say anything.

“Back to my question,” Joel said.  “Do you need anything before you go?”

“Before we go, maybe some extra MREs but that really isn’t something you can get us,” Eric said.  “I’m going to see what I can do.  Long-term, though, there might be something you can do.”

“Name it,” Joel said.

“Sandbags,” Eric said, “empty sandbags.”

Joel made a questioning face, but said okay.

“Long-term,” Kyle said, “we aren’t going to live in a tent.  We may build a cabin, ultimately, but we may not.  One of the things we were thinking of trying was building a house that is half underground, half above-ground.  The above-ground portion is made of dirtbags, or sandbags, filled with the dirt from the excavated below-ground portion.”

“The bags are a great insulator,” Eric continued, “and with enough people, you can literally build one in a day, depending on the type of soil.  It’s a bit like an igloo shape for the upper walls and ceiling.  You have to scout the area and make sure you aren’t in a flood plain, of course, and check the water table–things like that–but they can last for years depending on the type of bag you use.  Our sandbags are UV-resistant, so if this works out we shouldn’t even
need
to stucco the outside of the first couple.”

Joel had been all ears once he’d gotten the gist of the design.  “Deal,” Joel said.  “On one condition, you have to stay close enough that in case of a dire emergency, yours or ours, we can contact each other.  I’d also like to know how well the ‘dirtbag house’ works out.”

Kyle groaned.  “Nice legacy,” he said, “the dirtbag house.”

“Can it, Ramirez,” Eric and Joel said in unison.

“Right,” Kyle said.

…

June 12, 2013 - I-40 - Approaching the Entrance to Natchez Trace State Park, Tennessee

Driving down the freeway, Ben’s first reaction was shock, followed by confusion, and then disbelief.

They were approaching Promised Land, located inside Natchez Trace State Park, from the west on I-40.  In the southbound lanes, lined up and evenly spaced, were about thirty Black Hawk helicopters—at least three full battalions. “Promised Land,” Ben said, “this is the fifth little pig.  What. have. you. done?”

“Me,” Mallory said, the relief obvious in her voice.  “I didn’t do anything.  In fact, I didn’t even say anything at first; they came in here on their own looking for a place to land.  Said something about illegal orders, fulfilling their Oath, and defending The Constitution.”

Ben was trying not to smile and failing miserably.  “I assume they were painted the whole time,” he said.

Mallory laughed.  “Of course, and if they had a problem with that they kept it to themselves,” she said.  “The flight commander just requested that nobody have an itchy trigger finger.  I’ll fill you in when you get here.”

…

“That’s quite the convoy you have there,” Mallory said as she looked over the assortment of vehicles Ben had assembled.  Her words were muffled, somewhat, by the disposable surgical mask she was wearing to keep Ben’s people safe.  They had pulled through the park, skirted camp, and were now parked in a relatively flat area they had finished clearing where a forest fire had occurred a couple of years ago.

“Is this everyone from the final defense of the base,” she asked.

“Not quite,” Ben said with a sigh, “I had to leave behind eighty-one men that couldn’t be moved.”

“How many did you lose,” Mallory asked.

“Seventeen,” Ben said.

“I’m sorry, Ben,” Mallory said.

“It’s not your fault, Mallory, it’s the Colonel’s,” Ben said, and clenched his jaw, “and it’s mine.  If he hadn’t pushed it we wouldn’t have lost anybody, and if I hadn’t decided to keep a force there as a–I don’t know–as a stalling tactic to let everyone else get out…or for my own stupid pride, again, we wouldn’t have lost anybody.”

Mallory nodded, “At least you have the Colonel to blame.  All I have is a microscopic bacteria and a doctor who blames himself,” Mallory said.  “Six dead so far, and I get the feeling that it’s far from over.”

“It was bound to happen eventually,” Ben said, referring to the illness running through camp, “and this, or something like it, is probably going to happen again.  Times have changed.”

The look on Mallory’s face said she knew Ben was right, but didn’t have to like it.

Ben shrugged and moved on.  “So, what about those helicopters?”

…

When Ben and Mallory walked into the room, all of the pilots stood up and came to attention.

“At ease,” Mallory said.  “In fact, sit down.  This is Major Benjamin Franklin.  Yes, that’s his real name.  Yes, he’s probably heard all the jokes.  Yes, they’re funny the first time.  Go ahead and laugh if you need to get it out of your system.”

Instead of laughing, they all started to applaud and Diego took a couple of steps forward and held out his hand.  “Chief Warrant Officer Fourth Class Diego Hobbs, Sir,” Diego said.  “It’s a pleasure and an honor to meet you.  I’m glad to see you made it out of Fort Campbell in one piece.”

Ben hadn’t expected the reaction or the greeting, but tried to take it in stride.  “Thank you, Chief,” Ben said.  “That makes two of us–about getting out of Campbell alive, that is.”

Everyone chuckled and then sat down to begin the debriefing for the second time–this time for Ben’s benefit.

…

“We were effectively locked out,” Ben said, “and he’d prevented us from rebroadcasting the conversation back via the satellite.  I’m just glad that what I had to say didn’t fall on deaf ears.”

“I know we heard it on UHF,” Diego said, “but rest assured, we weren’t the only ones.  If nothing else, I’m sure Colonel Olsen had half-a-dozen other people on the channel, and all of their radio operators.  We can’t be the only ones who have a problem with what’s going on.”

Ben nodded, but didn’t say anything about Bragg or Lejeune.  Yes, these men had apparently disobeyed a direct order, either gone AWOL or deserted their units, and defected to the other side, but they were still not an entirely known quantity.  They had also increased the number of people at Promised Land by over four-hundred people which, while it wasn’t an immediate strain on the resources, would eventually put a sizeable dent in their stores.

“I know what you’re thinking, Sir, Ma’am,” Diego continued.  “While I can only absolutely speak for myself, I’m fairly confident I can speak for everyone else here.  What’s happening is wrong and we know it.  The Colonel is out of control and I don’t know what, but
something
else is going on, and I refuse to be a part of it any longer.”

Diego shook his head.  “If we came here to do anything but switch sides,” Diego said, “we’ve done a horrible job of it.  We allowed ourselves to be captured and we’ve given up
all
our weapons.”