Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12 (27 page)

I gave him a thumbs up and we moved away as the engines came
to life and began turning the long rotors.  Soon, they were at takeoff
speed, and he lifted into the air.  For several minutes he circled the
area, banking and changing altitude.  Finally, he landed the huge
helicopter in a stinging swirl of dust.  I could just make out the thumbs
up he flashed through the windscreen.

“Let’s go,” I said, heading for the rear ramp that was
already on its way down.

Rachel, looking dubious, mumbled something I didn’t catch
over the roar of the idling Chinook.  After a moment, she fell in behind
me and we boarded the waiting helo.  Tiffany dashed forward and
disappeared into the cockpit.  When I checked on her, she was strapped
into the co-pilot’s seat and grinning from ear to ear as she watched Vance work
the controls.

“Sir!  Battlespace is coming back online!”

Admiral Packard had fallen asleep at his desk.  He
jerked awake when his aide delivered the news from the outer office in a very
unprofessional manner.  Packard didn’t care.  Leaping to his feet, he
charged across his plushly carpeted office and through the door.

“CIC!”  He roared at his Marine guards.

As two of them dashed ahead to clear the way, Captain Black
radioed a heads up to the enhanced protection detail spread around the
building.  The rest formed a bubble around the Admiral, matching his pace.

It was still dark when the group pushed through the
building’s doors, the sun just beginning to lighten the eastern horizon. 
Walking so fast it nearly counted as a double-time jog, Packard turned and
headed for the Combat Information Center.  All around him was movement as
more Marines fell in to join the procession.  A pair of Super Cobra
helicopters hovered above, constantly scanning the area with their FLIR
systems.  Captain Black wasn’t about to let any more harm come to the
Admiral.

Pushing through a set of doors, Packard ignored the elevator
and raced down a flight of stairs to the subterranean levels of the operations
building.  Without breaking stride, he burst into the CIC, which was a
hive of activity. 

All around the room, screens that had been dark were coming
to life.  Data scrolled across them as the servers in Hawaii reestablished
communication with the handful of ships the US Navy still had operational
around the globe.  One by one, the system began updating their position
and status, plotting them on a single, massive display that covered an entire
wall. 

Still more screens brightened as surveillance feeds from aircraft
and satellites began working again.  The Admiral breathed a sigh of relief
before shouting for a status update on the Russian fleet.  While he waited
impatiently for a console operator to answer his request, the steel door from
the stairwell behind him slammed open, banging loudly against the concrete
wall.

Captain Black was the only Marine that had accompanied
Packard into the CIC, and he reacted immediately, spinning and raising his
rifle as he placed himself between the Admiral and the door.  Jessica,
flushed by a sprint from where she’d been working, froze in her tracks when she
saw the weapon aimed at her face.

“Stand down, Captain,” Packard said, pushing past the Marine
to greet Jessica.

Black lowered his weapon but didn’t take his eyes off the new
arrival.

“You did it!” 

The Admiral extended both of his hands to shake
Jessica’s.  She smiled at his praise.

“Sorry it took so long, sir,” she said.  “And, I’ve got
one more thing to do.  Thor didn’t come back online automatically. 
I’ve got to give it a little nudge.”

“By all means, carry on,” Packard said, stepping out of her
way.

As she dashed for a vacant console, another screen came to
life.  It showed a crisp image of a fleet of ships spread across a large
swath of ocean.

“Admiral, the Russian fleet,” the operator called.

Packard stared at the display, counting the number of ships
still bound for Hawaii.  Before he finished, Commander Detmer ran into the
room, breathing hard.  He stood beside the Admiral and quickly counted,
then dropped into a seat and began working on a console.

“They’re down four more ships since our last report, sir,”
he said.  “All four were civilian cargo ships that we believe were
carrying ground troops.  That’s the good news.  The bad is that
there’s still some serious firepower heading for us.  Three guided missile
cruisers, four guided missile destroyers and four guided missile
frigates.  There’s also ten landing ships and two more civilian cargo
ships remaining.”

“Range?”  Packard asked, glaring at the screen.

“Two hundred nautical miles northwest of Oahu, sir. 
They are well within range for all of their missiles to strike any target on
the island.”

“Why haven’t they started softening us up, yet?”

“All I can surmise, sir, is that they want Oahu
intact.  There’s not much of the world left that’s habitable, other than
Australia.  Maybe this isn’t about finishing us off so much as seizing the
island for themselves.  It’s definitely better weather than Moscow.”

“And, they’d have the entire civilian population to pick and
choose from for a captive workforce.  Slaves, if you will.”

Captain West hadn’t been able to keep up with Jessica and
had arrived in time to offer an opinion on the Russian’s motives.

“It’s time to show our hand,” the Admiral said.  “Bring
the subs up and feed targeting data to them.”

“Aye, aye sir!”  The CIC duty officer responded before
turning and snapping off a string of orders.

Five minutes later, four American guided missile submarines
each received a two-character message over ELF.  The two letters were
GO
. 
Eighty miles due north of Oahu, they had been maneuvering silently in the
ocean, steering racetrack patterns 800 feet beneath the surface for several months. 
Never believing that Hawaii wouldn’t become a target for a Russian invasion,
they were Admiral Packard’s holdout Ace.

The submarines, all Ohio class, had been sorely needed in
the various naval engagements that had been fought with the Russians.  But
the Admiral wasn’t one who liked to put all his cards on the table until there
were no other options.  Now, he was going to use them, and the more than
600 Tomahawk cruise missiles they carried.

While the submarines were about to send a veritable swarm of
missiles towards the Russian fleet, he also knew that only a small percentage
would actually succeed in penetrating the enemy’s defenses.  But, it
wouldn’t take many.  The idea was to overwhelm the approaching warships’
ability to knock them out of the air.

The four subs, already spread across thirty miles of ocean,
quickly responded.  Each ascended to periscope depth and extended an
antenna mast above the waves to receive more detailed orders as well as
targeting information from Pearl Harbor.  Once this had been completed,
the captains ordered the commencement of the cruise missile attack.

Within minutes, dozens, then hundreds of missiles erupted
from the dark surface of the Pacific Ocean.  Each was launched vertically
by high-pressure gas, a solid-fuel rocket booster igniting to lift it clear of
the water and quickly accelerate the weapon.  Transitioning to horizontal
flight, the wings deployed and a jet engine took over, propelling the missile
at well over 500 miles per hour. 

Each had received targeting coordinates seconds before
launch, and the onboard guidance systems turned them to streak towards the
Russian invasion fleet, less than fifty feet above the gentle swells. 

“Lead missiles will arrive on target in nineteen minutes, sir,”
the CIC TAO (Tactical Action Officer) reported to Packard.

He nodded, eyes fixed on the screen that gave him a view of
the ongoing launches.  It wouldn’t be long before the Russians detected
the inbound weapons.  This was when things could go horribly wrong for
Hawaii. 

The enemy still had plenty of nuclear tipped, tactical
missiles, and the Admiral had no idea what the fleet commander’s orders
were.  Was he to take Oahu intact, at all costs?  Or, if he was met
with insurmountable resistance, had he been given the authority to launch on
the Americans? 

Worry over that possibility had caused Packard to hold back
a damaged Arleigh Burke class destroyer.  It was seaworthy, barely, but
he’d kept it at anchor in the middle of Pearl Harbor.  With its SPY radar system
and anti-missile missiles, it was the last line of defense for the
island.  Linked into the Battlespace network, it also had control of
multiple missile batteries that had been set up on the summit of Mt. Kaala.

“Sir, the Russians are maneuvering!”

He looked at the real time image of the enemy fleet, seeing
every ship accelerating and turning their bow to the attacking missiles. 
The idea is to present as narrow of a profile target as possible, hoping to
avoid a direct hit by any weapon that leaked through the ship’s defenses.

“Admiral, Thor is online!”  Jessica called from the far
side of the CIC.

The duty officer shot a dirty look in her direction for the
severe breach of procedure, but both she and the Admiral ignored him. 
Packard quickly strode to where she was working.

“Can Thor hit a moving target?”  He asked as he
approached.

“No sir,” she said, shaking her head.  “It makes slight
targeting adjustments to the rods when they’re dropped, but after that, it’s no
better than a dumb bomb.”

Packard cursed softly, cutting his eyes back to the screen
displaying the Russian fleet.  Dozens of fires bloomed briefly across all
of the ships as defensive missiles began leaping off their rails to meet the
incoming wave of Tomahawks.

“Will they stay on a straight course, sir?”  Jessica
asked.

“The Russian ships?  They should, at least until the
attack ends.  Why?”

“Because,” Jessica began, spinning and typing
furiously.  “I think, if I know where they are, their course and speed, I
can calculate where they should be when a Thor rod arrives.”

Captain West and Commander Detmer had followed the Admiral, and
both immediately began encouraging him to let her try.  He nodded, which
was all Jessica needed to keep working on the targeting solution. 

“How are you accounting for the change in target position
that occurs in the time necessary to perform the calculations?”  Captain
West asked, leaning over her shoulder.

“Here, sir,” she answered, briefly tapping a line in the
code she was creating on the fly.

He looked at the indicated point, then straightened up and
smiled at the Admiral.

“Think it will work?”  Packard asked quietly, not
wanting to distract Jessica.

“She knows what she’s doing, sir.  As long as the
Russians don’t change course or speed, she’s got a good shot at dropping a rod
right on top of the bastards’ heads.”

“So far, so good,” Vance said when I stuck my head into the
cockpit.

We were airborne, again, just starting to turn north to head
for Nevada.

“I have a favor to ask,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“If we’ve got enough fuel for a side trip, I’d like to head
east.  Far edge of the city.”

“What for?”  He asked without taking his attention away
from the flight controls.

I sighed before answering.

“My house.  What’s left of it.  I’ll probably
never have the chance again, and there’s something I’d like to get.”

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes scanning the
instruments.

“What?”

“It’s personal,” I said, not feeling like telling him my
life’s story.

He turned to look at me for a few long seconds, finally
nodding.  A moment later we banked to the right.

“Where am I going?”

I leaned forward over Tiffany’s shoulder to see through the
windscreen, looking for landmarks.

“See that freeway to the south?  The one running
east-west.  Follow it until I tell you.”

He did as I asked, paralleling the multi-lane stretch of
Interstate that ran through downtown Phoenix.  Soon, we overflew the
airport, continuing east. 

“About thirty more miles,” I said, looking down at all the
burned out neighborhoods.

There weren’t any vehicles moving.  No people, infected
or not, on the streets.  Just another of the thousands of ghost towns that
was all that was left of America.

It didn’t take long to reach the general area of my neighborhood,
and I gave Vance directions to get us over a stretch of empty desert that
bordered the small community of homes.  We’d overflown the burned out husk
that had once been my house, and it looked even worse than I remembered seeing
it from the bomber on the way to Los Alamos.

Vance gently brought us down, a barely perceptible bump as
the landing gear touched the ground.  A huge cloud of dust, kicked up by
the rotors, enveloped us and blotted out the view through the windscreen. 
I headed for the back.

“What are we doing?”  Rachel looked up and asked as I
passed her.

“My house,” I said, knowing she’d understand.  “I’ll be
back.”

I hit the button to lower the ramp, walking out and jumping
to the sand.  The rotors were still spinning, kicking up a storm of
stinging debris, but I ignored it and jogged away towards the wall that
encircled my development.  I was halfway there when I realized Dog had
followed and was trotting next to me.

The wall was down in several places, apparently having been
rammed by large vehicles.  I picked my way through the shattered blocks,
into a neighbor’s back yard.  By now I had my rifle up, just in case there
were any infected or survivors that might take exception to my presence. 

Dog stayed next to me, moving easily and remaining
silent.  Moving through the side yard, I emerged onto their driveway and
came to a stop.  My house, or what was left of it, was directly across the
street.  It had burned completely, the wooden frame collapsing in on
itself.  The roof had been covered with clay tiles, and the exterior walls
had been stacked stone.  Without the structure of the framing, all of this
had collapsed until there was nothing other than a pile of rubble.

I moved closer, stopping in the street for a moment, then
made a slow circle around the property line.  The debris was mounded deep,
and it was heavy.  The safe I wanted to access had been in a room that was
near the middle of the house and that area was completely buried under several
tons of what was left of my home.  There was no way, without time and heavy
equipment, that I’d ever be able to get to it.

Standing there, I couldn’t help but let my mind drift to the
past.  All of the time I’d spent here with Katie.  Some of them bad,
but those had been very few and very far between.  We’d been happy. 
Enjoyed every minute we spent together.  And we spent as much time
together as we could.  We’d never been one of those couples that seemed to
need time apart from each other.

Lost in my memories, I looked down when Dog bumped my hand
with his nose.  He was sitting by my foot, staring at me.  I ruffled
his ears, and with a tear in my eye I took a last look at my house before turning
and running for the waiting helicopter.

“Find it?”  Rachel asked when I climbed aboard.

I pressed the
close
button for the ramp and shouted
for Vance to get us in the air, then sat down close to Rachel.

“Too much debris,” I said.  “Couldn’t get to the safe.”

“I’m sorry.”

She reached out and took my hand.  I squeezed back in
response, then she scooted across the deck and wrapped me in a hug. 
Together, we laid back and soon I was asleep in her arms.

Some time later, my eyes snapped open when Tiffany shook my
shoulder. 

“Vance needs you,” she said.

I disengaged myself from Rachel and stiffly made my way to
the cockpit. 

“Check that shit out!”

Vance pointed through the windscreen.  I took another
step forward and looked to the side.  We were over Nevada, not too far
from Hoover Dam.  The view of the shattered top was awe inspiring from the
air, especially with the massive plume of water that was still pouring through
the breach.  But, that wasn’t what he wanted me to see.

Several miles north, heading towards the shoreline of a partially
drained Lake Meade, dozens of vehicles raced across the desert.  Dust
boiled into the air in their wake.  I wouldn’t have cared if it wasn’t for
the Humvee that was only a few hundred yards in front of the main group. 
It might have been their leader, but it sure looked like it was being pursued.

With a bad feeling in my gut, I activated my radio and made
a call.  Nothing.  I repeated myself, a moment later Igor’s voice sounding
over my earpiece.  I could hear a roaring engine and rattling vehicle in
the background.