The Line of Departure: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series Book 4) (24 page)

Schmidt looked at Sebastian, now standing shirtless, and said, “Time for you to leave. Get the hell out of here and don’t ever come back! If I see you in this place or anywhere in the green zone, I’ll kick your ass!”

“Major, please, can’t you see he’s doing what you asked? Just leave him alone. He’ll leave,” Pat pleaded, then turned to Sebastian and asked, “You’re leaving, right?”

The Van Zandt temper was now boiling in him. He wasn’t seeking a fight but Schmidt kept antagonizing him. “You know something, I can’t leave town as I’m here at the request of the president, so you, my friend, can go fuck yourself!”

Schmidt nudged closer to Sebastian.

“As far as this shirt goes, here, it’s yours now,” Sebastian said as he tossed it in Schmidt’s face.

Schmidt’s temper was now on the precipice of erupting too. The engagement earlier had gotten him riled up; now seeing Sebastian wearing a Republic of Cascadia shirt added fuel to his internal fire.

Sebastian stared hard at Schmidt. “You better try to kick my ass now, because I’m not leaving town. I’m here to stay and I plan on coming back here tomorrow and getting a drink. If you want to fight, come by yourself, stop hiding behind your men for protection. Only a pussy talks about fighting a lone stranger when he has four of his buddies backing him up.”

Schmidt’s top was about to blow, the typical cool and stoic demeanor gone. He inched closer to Sebastian, who held his space, but was stopped when Pat put out his arm.

“Major, that’s enough. This man here is a guest of President Conner’s,” Pat begged.

“Fine, I’ll stand down from kicking this guy’s ass, but make sure he gets out of my face now,” Schmidt sneered.

A grin appeared on Sebastian’s face as he could see Schmidt backing down.

“Get out of here now and don’t come back tomorrow, you hear me? I don’t need this,” Pat exclaimed.

Sebastian stepped out from behind the small table and headed for the door, keeping his eye squarely on Schmidt and his men.

A few feet from the door he heard some laughter; he turned to see Schmidt’s men slicing up the T-shirt.

Sebastian turned back, took a step, but was stopped when Schmidt hollered, “What’s your name, Cascadian?”

“Van Zandt, Sebastian Van Zandt! You better remember it,” he said, then exited the coffee shop into the warm night air.

“When it is obvious that the goals cannot be reached, don’t adjust the goals, adjust the action steps.”

—Confucius

Cheyenne, Wyoming

I
t was rare for Conner to meet anyone at his residence, but this meeting was unique. Besides his personal protection team, no one would know about this secret liaison. It had to be that way if the missions he and Schmidt were working on were going to have a chance to succeed.

The violent breakup of the Republic of Lakotah supporters had given him a boost in confidence. His actions yesterday were a clear departure from the old Washington, D.C., Conner. He put himself at greater risk, but that risk translated into greater results. Word of his stance on top of that tank had spread through the tent cities, bars, and homes of every person in Cheyenne. Conner was now taking on an almost mythical status and he loved it.

With the Lakotahs’ threat diminished, he felt like one concern was cleared off his plate. He still needed to go to Porcupine, South Dakota, and complete the task of ridding the United States of that separatist threat, but that could wait. He had contacted the governor of South Dakota and advised him on their troubles there. The governor said he’d do what he could do on his end but support from Cheyenne was appreciated.

With this newfound confidence and sense of completion, Conner decided during the night that he’d finalize plans on dealing death blows to two other enemies of the United States, the Pan-American Empire and the Cascadian Independence Movement.

However, with every step forward, there were obstacles that hindered the progress. He had received news from Schmidt early last evening that Finley might have failed in his attempt to assassinate Barone. This development concerned him, and with the mission an apparent failure he had to find another way to dispose of Barone if he survived.

A tap on his home-office door alerted him that his visitor had arrived. He walked briskly to the door and opened it.

“Major Schmidt, so glad you could come by, thank you. Please come in,” Conner said, motioning to a couple of tufted leather chairs in front of a fireplace.

“Yes, sir, my pleasure,” Schmidt said, standing near a chair.

“Please, Major, sit. I appreciate your penchant for protocol but it’s not necessary,” Conner instructed him.

Schmidt sat down and held his hat in his hands.

Conner walked over and asked, “Do you need anything, coffee or tea?”

“No, sir, I’m fine.”

“Well, let’s get down to brass tacks,” Conner said. He leaned forward. “What is your plan for the Cascadians in Idaho?”

Schmidt laid out his plan for Idaho. It called for sending five thousand troops and most of his tanks. They would take two weeks to get to Mountain Home and another few days to get to McCall. Upon arrival in Mountain Home, they would drop off supplies to help with the outbreak. This would be the cover. When they hit McCall, they would quarantine the town, and then the plan of creating a false flag incident, like an attack on Schmidt’s forces, would justify systematically neutralizing all of those involved with the Cascadian Movement. The sheer numbers were to ensure they could overwhelm them. He would begin his march toward McCall on July 5.

After discussing Idaho he shifted to the PAE. Schmidt told Conner the plan was still in motion and within a few days it would all be over.

Schmidt moved to discussing Coos Bay. They discussed the plot against Barone, and clearly, Gordon’s allegiance was brought into question. That led Schmidt to discuss his encounter with Sebastian the night before. Schmidt requested that both Sebastian and Annaliese be arrested. This idea drew criticism from Conner.

“I won’t arrest him or his wife. I don’t want him contacting them back in McCall and warning them,” Conner said.

“But, sir, what happens when he talks to his brother?”

Conner considered. Gordon was a wild card, particularly considering neither of them knew the exact circumstances of Finley’s death. But he didn’t want to risk it. “Just monitor them, nothing more, and make sure they’re not doing something that would jeopardize us.”

“Sir, we don’t know if the other Van Zandt is here to cause trouble. We can’t be sure.”

“Why do you have a hard-on for this other Van Zandt?”

Schmidt’s face was flush with anger, and Conner could tell that there was something deeper than his disrespect toward the United States.

“It’s personal, isn’t it?” Conner asked.

Schmidt turned away from Conner and finally confided, “Yes, sir. Sergeant Finley was a friend, a good friend. We served together but along our trip here he stood out and was a big part of my team. You asked me to send one of my best to take care of this and I did, but now he’s gone, murdered at the hands of Gordon Van Zandt.”

“I understand you’re upset, but death is commonplace. You have to move on from this.”

“Don’t get me wrong, sir, I know this world holds no guarantees. I have no misgivings about this, but when I know the person who committed such an act and that person’s loyalties aren’t to this country, it makes me want to exact revenge.”

“And revenge you’ll get, Major, later than sooner.”

Schmidt disagreed with the decision, but ever the loyal soldier, he replied, “Yes, sir.”

“After we clean out the Cascadians and PAE, we can move on the Arizona group.”

“Yes, sir.”

Both men continued to discuss options and processes for how the operations would be conducted. After an hour they were done.

As Schmidt was leaving, Conner called out, “Major, thank you for your loyalty.”

He turned and answered him with pride. “It’s my pleasure and my duty. I love my country, I love everything it stands for. I’m an American soldier; it’s my honor to serve.”

Conner nodded his response but out of nowhere he felt he needed to give the major something to fill the void he was lacking with the loss of his colleague. “Major, I’ve changed my mind. You do what you feel you need to do with the Van Zandts here. I just don’t want to hear about it. Keep it discreet.”

Schmidt smiled and then quickly left.

McCall, Idaho

Hearing Gordon’s voice yesterday gave Samantha hope and a little peace of mind. She explained what was happening and told him to hurry home. Haley’s symptoms seemed to have stabilized, but her cough was still violent and her fever stuck at 103. However, Samantha was hopeful that Charles would return with a vaccine. He had left yesterday night, accompanied by Gunny and two other Marines. Whatever the man’s politics were, she couldn’t fault him for trying to find a solution.

Nelson had brought Luke home once it was determined that the blood from his coughing had come from broken blood vessels in his throat and not his lungs. Samantha agreed with the decision to bring him home, as the hospital was now overloaded with sick people.

The day before, while Seneca watched over Haley, Samantha had gone and met with Phyllis Smallbach, a local and Idaho native. She had been one of the first to join her auxiliary and for Samantha she was a godsend. Most of her sixty-eight years had been spent living a life as a modern-day homesteader. The skills and knowledge she offered the auxiliary group were priceless. Phyllis had been preparing her whole life for this type of event, and when it happened she was ready. She never panicked, she just acted. The moment Phyllis heard about the outbreak she went to work to find a natural remedy or relief for the illness. When Samantha had shown up, she had something to give her that she believed would help Haley and Luke.

Samantha was surprised by how simple it was. First, she gave her pine-needle tea to help provide vitamin A and vitamin C. She told her that pine needles have four times the amount of vitamin C than a lemon. She swore that the medicinal qualities of the tea would also help with cardiovascular health, which for their ailments was important. The other remedy she gave Samantha was licorice. At first Samantha didn’t know if she was joking, but she went with it. Phyllis first explained that the licorice got its characteristic sweetness from glycyrrhizin, and that it had proven anti-inflammatory qualities. She proceeded to tell her that for centuries many cultures had used it to soothe coughs and reduce inflammation, soothe and heal ulcers and stomach inflammation, control blood sugar, and balance hormones. Phyllis was exuding excitement as she continued to detail the other healing properties and that, most importantly, it had a potent antiviral agent and could be used to treat flu, herpes, and even hepatitis.

Samantha’s head was swimming with all of the information. She had always been moderate in her views on medicine and health, not one to discount either modern conventional or natural homeopathic cures. But in this case, she had to act. When she came home, she proceeded to give Haley and Luke the remedies. She was realistic and knew they wouldn’t see immediate relief, even though she prayed for a miracle as news came that more and more people were dying.

Like before, on the road and in Eagle, Nelson had been a huge help to her, and now with Seneca at his side, Samantha had a powerful team helping her with the kids. This morning he showed up with some bags of intravenous fluids for the kids. He stressed that they had to stay hydrated.

“I’ll hook them up when they wake up,” he said, placing the IV bags on the counter. There he saw the pine-needle tea.

“You think this will do anything? I mean, c’mon,” Nelson joked as he swirled a spoon through a pot of pine-needle tea that was on the kitchen counter.

“What?”

“This hippie stuff you have here. What’s next—are you going to burn dried sage throughout?”

“I don’t need your little cracks right now,” Samantha shot back.

He stepped into the laundry room and said, “Sorry, that was a dick thing to say.”

“It’s all right; I just need you to support me. I don’t think that stuff will cure them but if it can help relieve some of their symptoms, I’ll do it.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, you wouldn’t be you unless you were being a smart ass.”

“Great, that’s all anyone thinks of me. I can see the epitaph on my gravestone now. ‘Here lies Nelson Warner, A Real Smartass.’”

“Anyway, moving on to something else. Anything new to report?”

“Glad you asked. I stopped and saw Rainey earlier this morning. He’s saying that he received communiqué from Boise. Apparently Cheyenne is sending troops here to help with the outbreak.”

Samantha exhaled deeply and said, “Thank God! This is great news!”

Nelson stopped himself from saying something that would have moderated her enthusiasm. He wasn’t completely confident that the federal forces coming were there to provide a cure but more to contain the outbreak and quarantine them. He presumed that if they had a cure they would have sent one, not a force. Knowing that mind-set was important, especially a positive and hopeful one, he didn’t bring up his suspicions of the true intent of the federal forces.

“I think the kids have a real chance,” he said.

“They really do. It just seems like everything is finally coming together. Gordon is coming home, Charles’s sister might have a cure, and the government is actually coming to help. These are all positive steps.”

Nelson refrained from additional comments. “So, what did Gordon have to say?”

“I talked to him for a good ten minutes. He said everything was fine and his mission was complete. He said he’ll be coming home soon. It was so good to hear his voice. I just wish we had some word from Sebastian and Annaliese. One of my tasks today will be making a call back to Cheyenne to inquire about them.”

“Sam, can I say something personal?”

She stopped what she was doing and looked at Nelson. “Personal? As long as you promise you’re not going to make some sort of passive-aggressive joke.”

“It’s not a joke. From the bottom of my heart I wanted to tell you that you’re an amazing person, a truly strong woman. I’ve seen you grow and adapt like no one else I know. I’ve known you for so long and you are not the person I knew before. The kids and Gordon are lucky to have you and I’m fortunate to have you as a friend.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet. Thank you. I know I wasn’t as prepared as I could have been, but what I’ve found is that everything is about attitude. I know I had a time there where I wasn’t at my best, but I changed my outlook and everything else followed. And you’ve been invaluable to my family. Thank you.”

“I love you guys, you’re like family.”

“Knock, knock!” a voice called out from the other room.

“Back here,” Samantha replied.

Seneca walked in. “Hi, Nels. Sam, how are you this morning?”

“Much better than I was the other day.
Hopeful
would be a better word,” Samantha answered.

“Hopeful? You
are
optimistic,” Seneca blurted out.

Samantha looked at her strangely. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Nelson cocked his head and shot Seneca a look that could kill. He turned back to Samantha and opened up. “I shared a thought with Seneca this morning after I met with Rainey.”

“Oh? And you didn’t think to share it with me?”

Nelson gritted his teeth. “This is not a fact, it’s just my opinion, so please don’t take it as truth.”

“Go ahead.”

“I don’t think the federal forces coming our way are coming to help. I think they’re coming to quarantine us.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Sam, there is no cure for MERS or any other type of coronavirus. I think it makes sense for them to come and contain this outbreak. Whatever this is spreads faster than MERS and is lethal to three out of ten people.”

“But Charles’s sister might have a cure, she’s been working on this for years, he seemed to think . . .” Samantha stopped herself as she could see the look on Nelson’s face. “You don’t think he’s coming back, do you?”

Nelson just looked at her, quiet, but his eyes told her the answer.

“You don’t. I can see it written all over your face.”

“Seneca, thanks a lot,” Nelson snapped.

“I didn’t do anything,” she shot back.

They began to bicker.

“Both of you, stop, please, just go,” Samantha begged, her hopeful demeanor now dashed.