Bug Out! Atlantic Book 8, page 20
Lance burst out laughing. “Your entire team has RFID chips we can track, including yourself and your inner circle.”
“Not helpful, Lance,” Daan said.
Saladin’s eyes flashed rage. “I don’t have to listen to this. Call me when you’re ready for the attack.”
“Stop it, all of you,” Maggie shouted, standing. “If we lose this war, each and every one of us will be hunted down and killed. My gut tells me it is time to eliminate anybody who adds risk to this situation. My head tells me we should keep trying as a team, with careful strategy and discipline. I still have powerful allies in the UK and the EU, and they could stop this invasion in a red hot minute. Is that what you want? Tell me now.”
“You don’t control me,” Saladin said.
Maggie laughed. “Go ahead and believe that.”
“Saladin, shut the hell up,” Daan said. “Maggie is right, and don’t underestimate her influence. We will run this by the numbers. The main operation is on hold due to the threatened attack at Bremerhaven. We need to use that time wisely. There are several problems to solve. You are all aware of the attack in Pennsylvania last night, correct?”
“I just heard about it a couple minutes before this call,” Lance said. “Who did it?”
“We think the core was a group called the Broadstreet Boomers. We don’t know where they are.”
“I haven’t heard about this,” Jean said. “What happened?”
“Our largest UN base in the region was attacked in a very sophisticated operation,” Daan said. “I don’t have complete information yet, but we have people in the Philadelphia police department. The base was hit with a coordinated attack, using AC-130 gunships, Apache attack helicopters, mortars, and infantry. There were only two survivors, and one died about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Where did they get gunships?” Saladin asked. “Those could create some real problems for us. You know that, right?”
“Yes, we are aware, and we’re searching for them now. There were only three involved in the attack.”
“And the Apaches?” Saladin asked.
“We know where their base is, but they only have half a dozen airworthy ships. A spy we had at that base told us about their status. Sadly we’ve lost contact with him.”
“So the info might be bad,” Jean said.
“It is out of date,” Daan replied. “We’ll mount an attack on that base. It’s not well defended. A successful raid there might take out these Broadstreet Boomers.”
“They’ll be watching for an attack,” Mateo said.
Daan nodded. “They will, and we can’t do the attack at night.”
“Why not?” Charles asked.
“The Apache attack helicopters have one of the best FLIR systems available. We can’t hide from it. Our only hope is to go after them during the day, but their FLIR sensors will still be able to see our people through the trees when they are close enough.”
“Have the Navy task force fire missiles at them,” Saladin said. “They have the capability.”
“That would be an act of war on the US Mainland by the EU Navy,” Daan said. “I brought it up, and it was forbidden by the High Command. They think if we did that, the US Navy stationed around Europe would rush across the Atlantic to destroy our ships. I don’t agree, but couldn’t convince them.”
“Pity,” Mateo said. “In cases like this, it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.”
Daan looked down again, then back at the screen. “That is a good point. We’d have to convince the task force commander to go along with such an attack. Last time I tried to give him an order, he got Georgi Provoost on the line to double check.”
“Georgi is hanging on by a thread now,” Mateo said. “I can convince Captain Schroeder to go forward with the attack on Boston. He’s got character flaws that make him easy to control.”
“The Nazi thing?” Daan asked. “I think he uses that as a facade… but it might be worth a try.”
“I’ll make the attempt.”
“You could pay dearly for that, Mateo,” Maggie said.
“The UN is independent of the EU leadership,” Mateo said. “I’m not worried about them, nor do I take orders from them. I’ll get with Captain Schroeder now. Talk to you later. Daan, I’ll keep you in the loop, of course.”
Daan nodded slowly, not looking sure. “Okay, let me know. I want some warning before the attack starts.”
“Understood,” Mateo said, his face leaving the screen.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jean asked.
Daan shrugged. “No, but we’re in trouble.”
“Perhaps you should step down from command,” Saladin said.
Daan chuckled. “What, and give you the job? If I’m gone, you’ll be in trouble, Saladin. My counterparts want you eliminated. I’ve vetoed that idea more than once.”
Maggie shook her head. “If Captain Schroeder causes a large attack on Bremerhaven, we all will be going into hiding.”
Saladin laughed. “You’re all in hiding now.”
“Hey, Saladin and I agree on something,” Lance quipped. “I’d better go. Mayor Fine’s hacker is probably getting out of her trap about now.” He shut down the comm unit, chuckling to himself, glad he was in a location nobody knew about.
***
Whitaker was watching the video surveillance feeds, Burr still on his message boards, looking for more fallout from the Bensalem attack.
“Uh oh.”
Whitaker turned towards Burr. “I hate when you say that. What?”
“Tip from some resistance folks east of here. Large group of UN Vans on the road, heading this direction.”
“Shit,” Whitaker said, standing up. “How far out?”
“Just under three hours, from the northwest,” Burr said. “They might not be coming here. Lots of places they could go from their current route.”
Whitaker thought about it a moment. “We can’t chance it. Get in touch with Blake, see if he can get some AC-130s queued up. I’ll get with Derrick. Anything on the RFID app?”
“Not so far, just looked. There are lots of hits, but they’re almost as far away as the UN sighting, and they’re not moving.”
“Keep an eye on it.”
“Will do,” Burr said. “How about our birds?”
“I’ll make sure they’re reloaded and refueled. Might move them elsewhere if we need to flee.”
“All right,” Burr said, placing a call to Blake.
Whitaker pulled out his cellphone, hitting Derrick’s contact, putting it on speaker.
“Whitaker, did something break loose?” Derrick asked.
“Burr got a tip, line of UN vans coming in from the northwest, three hours out.”
“Dammit,” Derrick said. “I’ll contact Blumenthal, and get my team ready. You gonna bring in the gunships?”
“Burr is talking to Blake now. I’d better go, things to do here.”
“We’ll be there soon,” Derrick said.
Whitaker ended the call, looking at Burr, who motioned him over, putting his cellphone on speaker.
“Still hear us?” Burr asked.
“Yeah,” Blake said. “We’ve already reloaded and refueled our gunships. We could hit them on the road in.”
“I can’t tell you their exact location right now,” Burr said.
“You know what road, though, right?” Blake asked.
“Yeah, I-86,” Burr said.
“All right, wouldn’t take us long to get there, so we have time. I suggest you guys enlist more resistance folks to watch I-86, probably should watch I-476 too.”
“You read my mind,” Whitaker said.
“I’ll get on that now,” Burr said.
“Good, I’ll get our gunship crews ready. Talk to you soon.”
“Thanks, Blake,” Whitaker said.
Burr ended the call. “Let’s see who I can enlist.”
“Thanks, I’m going to talk to the chopper crews and get our counter measures ready to go. Be back in a little while.” He left the command center.
***
Captain Schroeder was sitting at his desk when the comm unit beeped. Mateo. He logged on and answered the call, Mateo’s face showing up after a moment.
“Good day, Captain Schroeder.”
“Hello, Mateo, what can I do for you?”
“I want you to go forward with the attack on Boston, as quickly as possible.”
Captain Schroeder was silent a moment. “Who is ordering that?”
“I am. You know what is happening, correct?”
“I know of several distressing events in the past twenty-four hours. Of which do you speak?”
“We are in the process of losing the west coast, and the EU High Command is on the verge of pulling the plug. The enemy knows, they hit one of our larger bases in Pennsylvania last night. They killed thousands of UN Peacekeepers. We can’t keep playing games with these subversives.”
“Pennsylvania is a long way from Boston, Mateo.”
“Pennsylvania, New York, and Boston have associated resistance movements. You’ve heard the reports of their weaponry, have you not?”
“I know that the resistance in New York and Boston have similar advanced weaponry.”
“It’s not similar, it’s exactly the same. This is the same team, and their capability is expanding. Have you heard what was used in the Pennsylvania attack?”
“No, I didn’t get a detailed report.”
“They had several AC-130 gunships, and six Apache attack helicopters,” Mateo said. “They also incinerated our people with white phosphorus mortar rounds.”
“Those are escalations,” Captain Schroeder said. “Still, I would need to get permission from the EU High Command to move forward. Daan Mertins gave me a direct order to delay the attack on Boston.”
Mateo shook his head. “Daan Mertins ordered that? It wasn’t Georgi?”
“I haven’t had access to Georgi for over a week,” Captain Schroeder said, feeling his face flush. “They’ve removed him from command, haven’t they?”
“The EU High Command is not sharing that information with the UN.”
“Can you get Daan on the line?” Captain Schroeder asked.
“I can try,” Mateo said. “Hold on. It’ll probably be audio only, he had to leave California in a hurry.”
“I’ll wait.” After he was placed on hold, Captain Schroeder picked up his microphone, calling Zander.
“Yes sir,” Zander said.
“We will go forward with the Boston attack. Please notify the other captains.”
“Yes sir,” Zander said, his voice catching.
The Comm unit lit up again, both Mateo and Daan Mertin’s faces on the screen.
“Captain Schroeder?” Mateo asked.
“Yes. Hello Daan. Am I to attack Boston?”
Daan nodded. “Yes, proceed with the attack. The enemy has left us no choice.”
“Thank you,” Captain Schroeder said. “Would you like me to attack New York after I’m finished with Boston?”
“Yes,” Daan said, Mateo smiling next to him.
“Thank you. I will proceed. Good day.”
Captain Schroeder shut down the call, then grabbed a screwdriver, using it to remove the side panel from the comm unit. He pulled a component off the motherboard, and left his stateroom, going onto the deck, tossing the item overboard. Then he went to the bridge. Zander turned towards him.
“Did you pass the word?” Captain Schroeder asked.
“I was getting ready to. Are you sure, sir? Who gave the order? Was it the EU High Command?”
Captain Schroeder stared at him, his eyes ablaze, pulling his pistol, aiming it at Zander, who backed up.
“No.”
“Too late,” Captain Schroeder said, firing three shots into Zander’s chest, calmly walking closer and putting a round into his head. He picked up the microphone.
“Attention, this is Captain Schroeder. We have received orders to attack Boston, and follow that with an attack on New York. Roll call by ship number, please.”
There was a pause, then a scratchy click.
“Ship 408 received the order, sir.”
“Ship 244 received the order, sir.”
The rollcall continued, as Captain Schroeder punched the destination into the navigation computer.
***
It was mid-afternoon. Burr was still sitting at his laptop, trying to get reports on the UN vans from his resistance contacts. Pat, Derrick, Blumenthal, and Terry sat at the table, chatting.
Whitaker came in. “Still nothing? It’s been almost five hours.”
“Nobody’s seen anything along I-471,” Burr said. “They’re not coming here. We should take Blake off alert.”
“How much of an alert are they on?” Blumenthal asked. “Might be worthwhile to stay up on it, just in case. This enemy can be tricky. We’ve seen it before.”
“Blake’s getting antsy,” Burr said. “I could tell when I talked to him half an hour ago.”
“I’d feel better if we knew where those UN Vans went,” Pat said.
“This was a false alarm,” Derrick said. “Even Hymie thinks so, I just got a text from him.”
“What difference would that make?” Terry asked.
“He’s got a sixth sense,” Derrick replied.
Blumenthal laughed. “I know people like that, and they’re not to be ignored. I don’t mind hanging out here, though. We got nothing better to do.”
“Get Blake on the phone,” Whitaker said.
Burr nodded, making the call, putting the phone on speaker.
“Blake?” Whitaker asked.
“I’m here. Nothing?”
“Nope, I’m afraid we got a false alarm,” Whitaker said. “I’m sorry.”
Blake chuckled. “Don’t be sorry, man. It doesn’t hurt the men to be on alert, and we didn’t expend any resources. It was worth it. Bothers me that they were seen on that road, though. We’ve got a few surveillance planes. Maybe we should send them out to check the roads connected to I-81.”
“You’ve got surveillance planes?” Whitaker asked.
“Yeah, we got three MC-12s. I’ll send them out now. We’ll look along that corridor just to be sure.”
“Getting dark soon, ain’t it?” Terry asked.
“No problem, they’ve got night vision capability, and seeing trucks on the road isn’t difficult at night anyway.”
“Okay, go for it,” Whitaker said. “Thank you. We’ll keep our people here for now, just in case.”
“All right, talk to you later,” Blake said.
The call ended.
“I’m really getting to like this guy,” Whitaker said.
“Yeah, he’s good people,” Burr said. “I’m gonna ask the resistance to take a look at something.”
“What?” Whitaker asked.
“The vans were seen on I-81. We assumed they were gonna switch to I-476. What if they switched to I-84, then took that to I-380, then to I-80?”
“You got a map up?” Whitaker asked.
“Yeah,” Burr said, turning his laptop towards him. “See where that leads?”
“Son of a bitch,” Whitaker said.
“What?” Derrick asked, rushing over, his eyes widening. “New York.”
“Send Blake a text and tell him about this,” Whitaker said.
“Yes sir.” Burr spun his laptop around, then picked up his phone.
***
Tyra and Justin left their hybrid in the North End Garage in Old Boston. It was just before dusk.
“Don’t look so nervous, nobody’s going to recognize it,” Tyra said.
Justin smiled at her. “I’m trying. Can’t believe you talked me into this.”
“C’mon, I’m hungry,” Tyra said, going to the exit, Justin trying to keep up. They left the garage, crossing Prince Street, walking the sidewalk on Causeway Street.
“Slow down,” Justin said.
Tyra turned towards him, stopping. “Sorry, I do this sometimes. We need to go out on dates, you know. We kinda skipped ahead a little.”
“We skipped to the fun part,” Justin quipped, his arm going around her waist.
“Be good tonight and there’ll be more fun, sweetie, but don’t get in the way of my Italian.”
“There was freezer lasagna at Trinity’s place.”
She punched him in the shoulder. “Forget it, I want Massimino’s.”
“The things I have to do,” Justin said, shaking his head. Suddenly there was a rumble, the ground shaking. “Crap, what was that?”
Tyra froze, looking to the east. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”
“C’mon, let’s get to the bay and look,” Justin said. Another rumble hit, then a brilliant flash to the north, and the sound of explosions and glass breaking.
“Forget the bay, let’s get to that hybrid,” Tyra said, starting to run towards the garage, Justin right on her tail, another round going off, closer this time, the brilliant flash almost blinding them.
“Shit, we can’t get into two-wheel mode,” Justin said as they burst through the doors to the North Garage.
“Yes we can, I’m sitting on top of you,” Tyra said.
They got to their vehicle as several more explosions went off, the smell of burning flesh filling their nostrils.
“We’re not going to make it,” Justin said. “Maybe we should just take cover in here.”
“You know how these new weapons work,” Tyra said. “Get in.”
Justin opened the hybrid, getting into the driver’s seat, raising the steering wheel as high as he could, Tyra getting on top of him. He drove forward, trying to see around her.
“I’ll drive,” Tyra said. “You can’t see. Move your feet.”
Justin did that, Tyra taking the wheel, heading out onto the street, people running to and fro in terror as another round went off, the bright flash almost too much to bear, a wave of heat washing over them.
“Move the two-wheel lever,” Tyra said in a panic as she picked up speed, turning south onto Washington Street, Justin’s hand on it, traffic jammed ahead of them.
“Get ready,” Justin said, moving the lever back, the hybrid closing on them, Tyra crying out in pain as her left thigh was crushed, Justin struggling to get his hand on the steering wheel, putting his right foot over hers and stomping on the accelerator, the hybrid taking off, and then there was a much brighter flash, the concussion slamming into the hybrid, shoving them off the road, into the side of a building, the heat scorching, Justin turning Tyra’s head, kissing her.
