The Line of Departure: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series Book 4) (7 page)

“You all are looking to me to make a decision, but I need to allow this to marinate before I say we do anything about these groups. Does anyone have anything to add?” Conner asked.

“I was wondering if Secretary Wilbur has any thoughts, since she drafted the report,” Baxter said.

“I do. I think we need to aggressively engage these groups in diplomatic ways. We need to see what they’re seeking. Sometimes in life, I’ve found that all people want is to be heard . . .”

“Or to kidnap!” Baxter quipped, referencing the botched kidnapping attempt against her weeks before by the separatist group known as the Montana Independence Party. The MIP had solicited Conner and the United States for peaceful separation. Under Wilbur’s leadership, she journeyed there under the protection of Major Schmidt. Things immediately went wrong, as it was an ambush. They kidnapped her with the hope of trading her for a treaty with Conner. However, Major Schmidt didn’t negotiate—he attacked them, and viciously.

“In all seriousness, we should talk to these people to see if there is a peaceful way to handle it,” Wilbur countered. “Despite my experiences, I say that,” she added.

Conner nodded and concluded the briefing. “Wilbur, thank you. Let me think about this. We are already pulled in many directions. In some regards, I want to just put my foot against their throat and end this bullshit once and for all.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that, sir. We can’t just use deadly force with every group we encounter. What happened in Montana shouldn’t have happened,” Wilbur stressed.

“I don’t know what you think should have happened, but those people were not about diplomacy. What happened, happened, and I sleep fine at night knowing that their threat is disabled and you are back here safely,” Conner shot back. “Let’s take a short break, reconvene in ten,” Conner said.

All in the room got up. Some left while others began to chat with one another. As they did, Conner hovered over Wilbur’s map. He didn’t like what he saw. If something wasn’t done, he wouldn’t have a country to preside over.

McCall, Idaho

The laughter of children tore Gordon away from his troubled thoughts. He turned to see Haley chasing Austin. Seeing her smiling face, he knew he couldn’t risk leaving; he couldn’t break his promise to Samantha. He cared for Brittany, but not so much as to hurt Samantha and Haley again.

Gordon always found himself fighting the urge to say yes when supplies and equipment were on the line. He had developed what Samantha described as apocalyptic obsessive-compulsive disorder. He couldn’t help but try to have everything needed to keep his family alive. He knew his side trip to Oregon wasn’t the best idea, but he was grateful for all the equipment, food, medicines, and the Humvee he got out of his adventure. But this trip, even with the president’s promise of supplies, just seemed too risky.

“You hungry?” Gordon asked Michael.

“Yeah, I could go for a bite.”

They made their way to the house. “Sam? Michael’s here!” Gordon hollered as they walked inside.

As he passed through the great room, he saw Gunny and his men out on the back deck, but no Samantha. He pressed forward and suspected she was in the master bedroom. His assumption was correct. He walked in and there she was sitting in the rustic rocking chair in the corner.

“Hey, sweetie, Michael’s here. He brought the wood over and I’m going to make him something to eat. You hungry?”

Samantha’s attention was on a book she was reading. She lowered it in frustration. “These medical books are like WebMD used to be. If I had to guess based on Annaliese’s symptoms, I’d have to say she’s going to die.”

“What?”

“I’m trying to be funny, but it didn’t come out right. Her symptoms match so many things, many of them very bad,” she said, then paused to think. “I’m worried about her. She’s now been sick for almost a week. Something’s not right. I thought I could look in this book but her symptoms match everything from cancer to gout. It’s crazy.”

“I forgot to tell you, Sebastian is taking her in to see the doc today.”

“Finally. What’s wrong with him? He should have taken her earlier,” Samantha said. Samantha and her sister-in-law had grown close over the past few months; it didn’t take long for them to click. For Samantha it meant a lot to have a woman that she could call a sister.

“I don’t think waiting five days is life or death. She probably has some type of virus or something. She’ll be fine,” Gordon said. He walked over and dropped to a knee next to her. Taking her hand he continued, “You’re such a sweet sister-in-law to be so worried, but I really don’t think we should get too upset just yet.”

Samantha gripped his hand and smiled. “Argh, you’re right. I’m sure she’ll be fine. I just worry. What used to be little things can be big now, that’s all.”

“I know. So, can I make you something to eat?”

“I’m not hungry, you go ahead.”

“Okay,” Gordon said, then stood and left her. He closed the door behind him so she could get some privacy.

Outside the door, Gordon’s calm demeanor was shaken. His mind again was swimming with worry. He laughed to himself when he thought about all the “worries and concerns” he had before the lights went out. Those distant worries now seemed so petty. When someone was sick, you went to the doctor, got checked out, they did some tests, prescribed some medicine, and you were usually fine within days. Getting sick then was more of an inconvenience, but now it truly was a matter of life and death. He shuddered at the thought and continued his way to the kitchen.

Coos Bay, Oregon, Pacific States of America

The intense fighting the previous night had invigorated Barone. It had been a very long time since he had “hooked and jabbed.” At moments it felt as if his men were losing but the tide was turned when reinforcements from the
Makin Island
showed up. Together with his security forces they destroyed the assault and captured dozens of resistance fighters.

He stood in front of the mirror and looked at his bloodied and bruised face. In all his years as a Marine, he hadn’t fought so hard. So often, commanders never actually fought, they sat back and led their forces; but last night, he was done with sitting back. He wanted to fight man-to-man even if it meant his life.

He picked up the washcloth from the sink and began the slow and painful process of washing off the blood and grime. With each swipe, his face reappeared, but it wasn’t the same face that he saw yesterday. Something was different about him; his men saw it too. Those that remained loyal knew he was capable of action, but they had never seen a commander get into the middle of the action before. He stood toe-to-toe with the enemy last night and fought alongside his junior enlisted men. After their victory, he had gathered his men and gave a roaring speech. He had now become a true leader like those leaders of old.

Not one to miss an opportunity to prove a point, he planned on a public trial for those captured, but not until he could get what intelligence he could from them.

A tap on the closed bathroom door was followed by Simpson stating, “Sir, Mr. Timms is here. He’s in the waiting room outside your office.”

Barone dried his hands and opened the door to see Simpson standing there, still filthy from the battle. “What’s he doing here? We haven’t seen him in weeks,” Barone commented. “How’re you holding up?”

“Good, sir, a bit sore. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a fight like that,” Simpson responded with a grin.

“Good man. You were fierce last night, a true warrior,” Barone said, a smile across his face.

“Thank you, sir. We’re working hard to get defenses back up. We’re also moving quickly on what intel we’ve gathered so far from the prisoners. We’re moving in on some rebel strongholds now.”

“Good, very good. When you have the time, go get cleaned up.”

“Will do, sir. By the way, I thought you’d like to know that one of the rebel prisoners was Major Ashley,” Simpson informed.

Barone’s eyebrows rose when he heard the news. “You don’t say? So we finally got that traitor. Good. Anything from him?”

Major Ashley was the highest ranking officer to turn his back on Barone following the massacre. He had become the leader of the resistance. Having him in captivity was a blow to their efforts.

“No, sir, his lips are sealed.”

“You know what to do,” Barone said.

“That I do. I’ll get back to work,” Simpson answered, then turned and left.

 • • • 

Barone walked into the waiting room to find Timms sitting nervously, tapping his fingers on his leg.

“Mr. Timms, you look like someone whose doctor just told them they have ass cancer. You all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for meeting with me,” Timms said, standing up and stretching his arm out to shake Barone’s hand.

Barone ignored Timms’s greeting and walked right past him into his office.

“Come in here!” Barone commanded.

Timms followed and quickly sat in a chair positioned in front of the desk. His eyes widened when he saw the broken glass on the desk and some of the furniture in disarray.

“Close the door, please!” Barone ordered.

Timms shot up from the chair and went back to the door and closed it. “That was something last night.”

“Yes, it was, but we were victorious and that’s all that matters,” Barone said as he swept glass from his chair and sat down.

“I heard that—”

“Mr. Timms, I’m busy. I don’t have time for idle chitchat. What can I help you with?” Barone interrupted.

Sweat began to bead on Timms’s forehead. “Sorry, Colonel. Things have gotten really crazy around here. I know you want this to end, and I think I have a plan.”

Barone relaxed in his chair. It felt good to take a seat after being up all night. “I’m all ears, unless it has anything to do with me leaving Coos Bay.”

“It’s sort of a grand compromise. You don’t have to leave but you do need to step down. You can live here, but you’ll have to relinquish control of your forces.”

“Not going to happen, so if that’s all you have, then let yourself out.”

“Please, Colonel, listen. The rebellion is not going to stop. You might have won the battle last night but this is far from over,” Timms pleaded.

“Don’t be so confident in your predictions. Our victory last night was an important one, and we captured their leader,” Barone replied.

“You have Major Ashley?” Timms asked, shocked.

“Yes, we’re interrogating him now. We captured dozens and they’re all being processed now, so don’t think that I don’t have an advantage here.”

“Colonel, I don’t think the resistance will end just because you’ve taken Major Ashley prisoner. You must understand that there are now thousands that are against you and your military rule. You must understand that the only way for this to end is for you to step down, cede control to a newly elected civilian authority—”

“Enough. I’m not listening to this. Please show yourself out,” Barone scolded as he pointed to the door.

“Please, Colonel. I’m not against you, but I know my plan will work,” Timms again pleaded.

“Why are you so confident?” Barone asked, irritation in his voice. The long night and large quantities of alcohol were being felt. He head was beginning to ache and his body was sore.

Timms sat pensively, not knowing how to respond without angering Barone.

Barone stood up from his chair and made his way toward the office door. “Mr. Timms, if you can’t answer that question then I need you to leave. I’m tired and have a lot going on today.” Barone opened the door and gave instructions to a Marine guard to get him some coffee. When he turned Timms was still sitting in the same spot.

“Colonel, I have been meeting with the resistance and they expressed a call for a cease-fire . . .”

“You’ve been secretly meeting with the rebels?” Barone thundered.

“Colonel, someone has to find a diplomatic end to this situation. It’s gotten out of hand. There’s been too much bloodshed. I know deep in your heart all you want is to have a place to call home. That’s all that any of us want, a safe place where we don’t have to live in fear.”

“That peace ended with the mayor!”

“No, Colonel, that ended with you! I have been on your side from day one. I had my reservations but I overlooked your past issues because we needed you and you needed us. Look around you, Colonel. This can’t go on forever!” Timms shouted.

Barone cocked his head in amazement. He had never seen Timms so passionate. He let it sink in for a minute and strolled back to his chair and sat down. “At the moment we have the head of the resistance imprisoned. We killed over a hundred rebels, and took dozens more prisoners last night. And you think this is over? We are winning this and I’m not about to surrender.”

Timms exhaled deeply, his frustration front and center. “I’m sorry to hear that you’re not willing to talk.”

“The talking ended when the mayor told me she wouldn’t relent until I was gone. She proclaimed they would fight to the death. I gave her what she asked for and will give her followers the same outcome.”

“Colonel, we can end this without your leaving. All you need to do is step down, have your second in command take over, call for elections, and let it go back to what we had before,” Timms said.

A knock on the door drew Barone’s attention away from Timms. “Come in!”

One of the Marine lance corporals who was standing guard came in with two cups of coffee. He strode over and sat them on the desk.

Timms reached for the cup just as Barone said, “No need for the second cup. Mr. Timms was just leaving.”

Timms stood up. “Please consider this plan, Colonel.”

The Marine guard followed him out and closed the door.

Barone grabbed his coffee and took a large gulp. He leaned back in his chair and began to process the offer presented by Timms. Deep down, he was tired of the fighting, and he did want a safe place to live out the rest of his life. When he first arrived in Coos Bay, he thought this was the place, but it had turned into a fierce battle for control. His thoughts then went to where he could settle down if he took their offer. He began to visualize a place, a cabin somewhere remote, where he could spend the rest of his days. This vision was then trampled by his need to win. Two competing desires resided inside of him. To accept this plan would leave him with the feeling that he had failed, that he had surrendered. He sat up quickly, pushing the thoughts of retreating out of his mind. He wasn’t done fighting and if last night’s battle told him anything, it was that he could be close to winning this outright.