Pennsylvania Omnibus, page 9
“You’re new here, Jerry,” Pook said calmly, “and I really don’t have to answer your questions.” Pook exhaled deeply, and Jed could see that the rebel leader was considering his options. “I’ll tell you what I can. But in the future, if I—or any one of my men—tells you to drop your weapon, you will drop your weapon. There won’t be a second request.”
Everyone remained frozen as Jerry considered what Pook had said.
“So this is it, Jerry. Drop the weapon and I’ll tell you what I can. Or don’t drop it and we’re going to smoke you and get on with our day.”
Jerry slowly lowered the pistol and pointed it toward the floor.
“Good thinking,” Pook said.
“So what’s this all about?” Jerry said tersely.
“This is all about him,” Pook said, pointing toward Jed. “We’re doing whatever we have to do—putting everything and everyone at risk—to get him where he needs to be. Rheems and Conrad are here because we need their help if we’re to get Jed out of the City and into the Amish Zone. That’s our only mission right now.”
“Got it,” Jerry said.
“And going forward, I don’t have time to brief every newbie and wannabe that hitches on to my mission, you understand?” Pook said.
“I said I got it,” Jerry snapped.
Just then, one of Ducky’s men burst through the door with a shout. “TRACER incoming!”
“MOVE!” Pook shouted, and just as he did, a thundering explosion rocked the front of the shop, blowing away the door and a portion of the building with it. The sentry who’d just warned everyone was killed instantly.
“Out the back!” Ducky yelled as smoke and dust and flying debris filled the air around the team.
Two more of the men on Ducky’s squad were cut down immediately. Dawn grabbed Jed by the hand, and before he could really register everything that was happening she’d pulled him down so that they were low-crawling toward the rear of the building. Jerry was pushing Jed forward as they crawled, and seemed to be protecting him from fire from the rear. Phosphorescent projectiles sailed overhead and exploded when they came into contact with the structure, sending glowing plasma raining down like magma. Jed looked back over his shoulder, and over Jerry’s head he could see a floating TRACER drone hovering just outside the massive new hole in the structure and firing rounds into the building. Red and green laser beams emitted by the drone crisscrossed through the smoke and dust, searching for targets to destroy.
Looking back where they were crawling, Jed saw the rear door open, and he, Dawn, and Jerry bolted for it, falling in line with the rest of the team as they flowed out of the building like water escaping a crumbling dam.
(12
IN THE STREETS
OF THE CITY
Jed and Dawn ran along an alleyway with Ducky’s team, and gradually a protective formation of TRACE fighters took shape around Jed. The troops began barking to one another in staccato bursts of commands, signals, and responses that everyone else in the group understood, even if Jed found it hard to make heads or tails of any of it. Out in the open, TRACE worked like a well-oiled machine as they fled the scene of the destroyed antique shop.
Jed was impressed at the discipline displayed by the team as they moved deliberately and as clandestinely as possible through town. When the whole group reached a good chokepoint in a darkened alleyway, the unit that was surrounding Jed and Dawn pushed forward and took cover behind a series of large dumpsters while the rest of the squad scattered and took positions on both sides of the alley.
Two of the men scaled an ancient fire escape and Jed watched as Pook walked out into the middle of the alley. Pook pulled something out of his pocket, fiddled with it a moment, then dropped it on the ground and ran for cover.
From his position behind the dumpster, Jed finally made out what it was that Pook had dropped on the ground. It was the bloody BICE unit that Donavan had cut from his own head before he died. Pook must have attached some sort of battery to the device, which would have reactivated the signal. Dawn pushed Jed further in behind the dumpster and everyone went silent as they waited. Jerry, Dawn, and Billy had formed what seemed to Jed like a protective wall in front of him, and he could barely see what was happening over the backs and heads of his defenders. He also noticed that Billy took Dawn’s hand for a second, but she turned her hand loose and thrust it into her pocket.
It seemed as though minutes passed, but it was probably only seconds before the TRACER unit that had attacked the antique shop came hovering around the corner from an adjacent street. A glowing missile fired from the drone destroyed the BICE unit as it lay on the ground, and tracking lasers began scanning the alley for signals or targets.
The men on the fire escape and those hidden in place in the alley opened fire on the TRACER unit before it could lock on to any other target, and a well-placed shot coming from one of the elevated positions struck the drone right above its laser-sighting lens. The machine hummed for a moment and shook with violence, spinning drunkenly as it attempted to maintain level flight, before it exploded and a thousand pieces of high-tech shrapnel scattered around the alley. The largest portion of the TRACER drone caromed down the alley like a beach ball until it bounced off of the dumpster that shielded Jed and his defenders from the battle.
Once again, the team wordlessly snapped into motion and Dawn was pushing Jed from behind out into the alley. Pook pulled on a heavy glove and he and Ducky began to remove smoking parts from the damaged portion of the drone, stuffing the parts into a backpack.
When Pook and Ducky were done stripping the drone, the team formed back up, and in moments they were all moving eastward again, leapfrogging forward in groups of two or three as they crossed the open and seemingly abandoned streets of the City on their way toward the river.
****
Ten minutes later, the squad gathered together outside a darkened tavern. The faintest hint of the coming morning was only then touching the eastern sky—or at least the bit of it that could be seen between city buildings. The tavern was still shrouded in darkness, and since most of the streetlights had been extinguished due to the rebel offensive, the squad was able to gather near the door of the tavern without worrying about alerting anyone who might be in the area, or peeping out the windows of nearby buildings.
Above the door where the team was gathered, the name of the tavern was written in Old English script, and Jed studied it with interest. If it weren’t for the things he’d been through in the last few days, he might have laughed…
Ye Olde World English Tavern. Didn’t that name just say it all?
Pook knocked on the door while sentries moved into position on both ends of the block. One of Ducky’s men, with a long rifle slung over his shoulder, scaled the building across the street from the tavern with the skill and agility of a trained mountain climber, and in under a minute he was peering down at the rest of his team from the roof of the opposite building.
A dark figure came to the door, and after pleasantries were exchanged, Pook, Dawn, Ducky, Jed, and the remaining soldiers from Ducky’s unit all filed into the tavern.
Two of Ducky’s men helped a few of the bar employees as they darkened all the windows before lanterns were lit throughout the tavern. The man who’d opened the door to let them in stepped behind the bar for a moment and returned with a handheld electronic device that he held up in front of Pook.
“Sweep ’em all,” Pook said.
As the man activated the device, Pook noticed that Jed and Jerry were looking at it curiously.
“BICE scanner,” Pook explained. “Detects TRIDs, too. It’s crazy expensive and highly illegal. We keep one here because most of our operational planning takes place here. There are only two other functional scanners in the whole resistance, as far as I know. We couldn’t afford to lose one of these like we just lost my antique shop.”
Wordlessly the man began to scan everyone in Pook’s party with the device. He gestured to the two Transport officers, Conrad and Rheems. “What about those two?”
“They’ve turned their units off,” Pook replied. “It’s a workaround we came up with a few months ago. Sweep ’em anyway, though. Make sure they aren’t broadcasting.”
The man scanned Conrad and Rheems with the machine, and nodded affirmatively to indicate that they were clear.
Jed would later learn that the tavern owner—the man with the scanning machine—was a respected veteran resistance officer named Jeff Wainwright. Jeff and his people never asked any questions, and the bar was virtually silent as Jeff went from person to person, scanning them from head to toe.
The silence gave Jed his first chance to think, really think, since this whole thing began. Since arriving in the City, he’d witnessed three men murdered right in front of him. Because of him. Was it only three men? Maybe it was four. Or had there been more? Jed didn’t even know. That realization filled him with shame. Was he losing his identity? His humanity? How can human life, he thought, become so cheap? The questions piled up like the firewood he would stack just outside the back door back home. Why were these people helping him? Why were they concerned at all about a young Amish immigrant? Strangers—the English—putting their lives and futures at risk so that a farmer could make it to the Amish Zone? None of these questions had answers, or at least none of them had any answers that he could fathom. No one had asked him what he thought. No one had asked him his opinion or permission for anything at all. It was disconcerting to be swept along by events like a leaf floating down a stream. And were these deaths somehow being registered to his account? Perhaps that was the biggest question of them all.
“I should just go turn myself in,” he said quietly.
Pook spun to face him. “Excuse me?”
“Too many people have died to protect me,” Jed said. “This has to stop.”
“This has to stop, does it?” Pook said. “What are you thinking? Do you think you’re on a buggy ride in beautiful Amish Country, Jed?”
Jed stood silently, his eyes downcast.
Agitated now, Pook squared up with Jed and then poked him in the chest with his finger. “Listen, pal. You’re right. We’ve already lost some good men and my whole antique shop for you. I’m outed, because they now know that I owned that shop. We’re all fully invested in getting you out of town, so you can stop with all that crybaby nonsense right now. Don’t you even think about surrendering yourself. You do what I say, when I say it. I’m not sure I understand all the ramifications of what just went down, but the whole resistance is at risk until we get you into the AZ, do you understand me?”
Jed nodded. “Yes, I understand. And I’ll do what you say. But I didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t even know what’s happening, or why all of this is going down. No one has told me anything.” He looked Pook in the eye. “Just don’t pretend you’re doing this for me. You’re not. You don’t even know me. You’re doing it for reasons of your own, and I can appreciate that, even if I don’t agree with what you do. Once and for all though, I’d like you to get it through your head that I haven’t asked for you to do anything for me. Our people believe that God is sovereign over everything that happens, and if He raises up a deliverer to help us, then that is His business. If you kill someone, or if someone working with you dies, it didn’t happen because of me. Everyone makes their own choices and decisions and has their own motivations, and I haven’t asked anyone to sacrifice themselves for me. I just want to get home, and I would rather not be the cause of anyone else getting killed.”
“God, huh?” Pook said as he took a long draw from the cigarette. “Well, I’m not doing this for him, either.”
“Your call.” That was all Jed could say to that.
Pook shook his head, and spoke again with a softer tone. “We’re going to get you home, Jed. I just pray that all of this is worth what it costs. I’m just a soldier. I take orders like everyone else here. So let’s just all do what we have to do and get this mission finished.”
****
Half an hour later, the team had pulled several of the tables together to form one long conference table and Pook was addressing the assembled mass of rebels, briefing them all on the plan that was about to unfold.
“I can’t tell you how difficult the next few hours are going to be. Our plan is workable, but flawed. It relies on precision timing, and to be frank with you, there are a whole lot of unknowns and things that can go wrong. I’m going to need you all to listen closely, and to know with certainty what you’re expected to do and when.
“The first thing you need to know is that Hugh Conrad is going to put Jed on a secure airbus, alone. The airbus will exit the city over the river via the bridge air gate.”
Ducky’s hand went up almost immediately.
“They’ve already got an APB out on the kid, Pook.”
“We know,” Pook said. “That means that we need a window of time when the computer doesn’t know that it’s supposed to be searching for him. And if there’s one thing we know about Transport, it’s that Transport officials don’t know anything the computer doesn’t know.”
“Will the bridge even be open, you know, with the offensive going on and all?” Dawn asked.
“The offensive is basically over. It was planned to culminate at first light, and first light is right about now. Still, the bridge will be open to Transport officials only. That’s what we’re expecting.”
“How’re you going to arrange for this blind window?” Ducky asked.
“We’re going to hack Transport. Rheems is going to stay here and use Jeff’s equipment. We know how to do it, and we know it’ll be successful. We just don’t know for how long.”
“What’s the probability that they don’t make it over the bridge before Transport figures out they’ve been hacked?” Dawn said.
“Fifty-fifty,” Pook said.
“That’s encouraging,” Conrad said with a nervous laugh.
“Listen,” Pook said with his hands up in the air. “I’m going to need you all to pipe down for just a minute while I brief you. There’ll be time for questions afterwards, okay?” Pook began walking now, circling the table, looking each man or woman in the eye as he walked. Heads nodded, so Pook continued.
“This thing is going to have to be timed perfectly. Rheems will hack in and try to blind the system for long enough to get Jed on an airbus headed for the AZ. Hugh, once you get him on the bus, you’ll need to make your own way over the river. You’re busted once they figure out that you put Jed on the bus. Don’t get caught on this side of the river after you get the kid on the bus, got it?”
Hugh Conrad nodded his head, accepting the responsibility and the implied danger that came along with his mission.
“We don’t figure he’ll get many miles into the rural zone before Transport figures out what happened. They’ll bring the bus down immediately,” Pook said, “and lock it tight until a Transport team can go extricate Jed from the bus. We’ll have maybe ten minutes to get there first.”
“But—” Ducky started, before Pook’s upraised hand silenced him.
“As you all know,” Pook continued, “the rural zone between the river and the AZ is peopled mostly by gangs and independent salvagers. There’s a strong possibility that they’ll have that bus cracked open in less than two minutes.”
Ducky was nodding his head vigorously. This was the reason he’d tried to interrupt.
“That’s where the gold coin comes in,” Pook said, looking at Jed now. “You all know that private ownership of gold is forbidden. That fact is precisely why gold is the preferred method of payment in the ungovernable rural zones. One gold coin should buy Jed here his safety—and if not safety, then at least some time. You still have the gold, Jed?”
Jed held up the gold coin, but didn’t say a word. He felt like Donavan’s blood was on the face of the precious metal, accusing him.
“Good deal. So Jed will have to do some acting. He should be the only person on the bus, and if he is, then that fact alone will indicate to the gangs that he’s valuable. Nothing else has been moving during the offensive. If the gangs get to him first—and that’s our preferred outcome—he’s in good shape. They’ll be glad to get the gold, and they’ll probably protect and hide Jed until we can form up and get to him. If it’s the salvagers that get to him—”
“—they’ll want to sell him to the highest bidder,” Ducky said.
“Yes. But they won’t know we’re on the way, or that he’s with us. Salvagers are unpredictable and mercenary, but we’re hoping that they think that Transport is their only problem, so maybe won’t be in quite as much of a rush. If Jed can get them talking and delay them, maybe we can get to him before they’re all through the hills and gone.”
“But what if Transport gets to him first?” Jeff Wainwright asked. “This is a three-way race, after all.”
“Then we’ll have a fight on our hands,” Pook answered soberly. “Jed, you’ll have to really sell this thing,” he added.
“What does that mean?” Jed said, as he pushed the coin deep into the pocket of his broadfall pants.
“That means you’ll have to do a little bit of acting. You’ll have to be confident and assertive, and the longer you can stall and delay whoever it is that’s gotten to you first—especially if it’s the salvagers—the better the chances are that we’ll be able to get to you and secure your freedom.”
Jed nodded his head. He still wasn’t sure exactly what was expected from him, but he felt like he didn’t have any other options other than to play it the way Pook had designed it.
“There’ll be a race to get to you, Jed, once the airbus is electronically forced down in the rural zone. Worst case scenario, salvagers get you. If that happens, delay, delay, delay. Got it?”
