Bug Out! Atlantic Book 8, page 6
Sturm sat quietly for a moment. “I can’t think of a better idea at this point. Can you?”
“You don’t want to kill their assault team? Maybe we can capture some, get them to talk.”
“You’d rather stay here?” Sturm asked.
Claude sighed. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe. Seems safer here to me.”
Sturm chuckled. “Okay, I can see that. I’m in no particular hurry to return to Manhattan. By the way, I’m seeing evacuation of Islamist fighters from Boston on Saladin’s tracking system.”
“You’ve got that?”
“Yeah. I think we’re going to see a Halifax-style attack in Boston.”
“They’re just firebombs, right?”
“No,” Sturm said. “They’re something new.”
“Really? What…”
Claude stopped talking, as both of them heard a whistle approaching.
“Get under something!” Sturm shouted, diving under a big table in the dining room, and then there was a massive explosion, Claude not under cover fast enough, flying through the air, slamming into the wall, his skull cracking open, brains and blood splattering all over the room, another whistle coming, Sturm crawling on his hands and knees, getting to the door, slipping out, the impact hitting the house again, the concussion throwing him through the air, a tree branch stopping him in his midsection, sharp pain in his hip as he fell to the ground. The whistle of another incoming shell cut through the air, another explosion, on the other side of the shattered house, Sturm pulling himself towards the large trees with his good hand.
***
Mayor fine got a text from Jared, asking for a quick meeting. He stood, leaving his office, sending a text to Tracy while he went, going into the main conference room, sending more texts to assemble the leadership team. Tracy came in a moment later, Julio and Kate on her heels, then Jace, followed by Cary and Vasil.
“Thanks for coming, we’ve got a quick call from Jared in two minutes.” He sat down at the PC and paged Chief Harvey, who got right on.
“What’s up, boss?”
“Jared wants a call,” Mayor Fine said. “I’ll get him on now. The rest of the leadership team is already in the conference room.” He opened the secure channel to Jared, who came on after a moment.
“Hello, everybody,” Jared said.
“Good to see you,” Mayor Fine said. “What can we do for you?”
“You know what happened in Halifax, I assume.”
Mayor Fine shot Tracy a glance, then looked back at the screen. “Yes, but we don’t know anything beyond news reports.”
“We used our sensors on the new weapon they deployed,” Jared said. “There is a danger for bunkers that don’t have a sealed environment with an interior air supply.”
“We have a sealed system here,” Cary said, “but not at New City Hall or NYPD Headquarters.”
“That’s why I’m calling you,” Jared said. “I suggest that you bring all of your people into the main bunker within the next ten hours or so, just in case.”
“What about the office people in the buildings above the bunkers, and the NYPD Officers?” Tracy asked.
“We’ll need some officers to be on duty,” Chief Harvey said.
“This is most dangerous to targets the enemy knows about,” Jared said. “The shells will kill everything within a radius of roughly one thousand meters in diameter, so they can’t drop one or two onto Manhattan and kill everybody.”
“The enemy knows where New City Hall and the Police Headquarters are,” Tracy said.
“Exactly,” Jared said. “Boston is in more immediate danger, and they’re evacuating now. So are the Islamists, according to the RFID apps. Eyewitness accounts show that UN vehicles are moving west as well.”
“I’ve seen no such movement here,” Cary said.
Jace nodded. “Me neither, and I’ve been watching this morning. What’ll happen if those new shells hit the ammonium nitrate caches?”
“A bigger explosion and fire, and a lot more structure damage,” Jared said. “Fires that will be difficult to put out.”
“Okay, we know what to do,” Mayor Fine said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Cary, I’d double check the air tanks and make sure they’re ready to go.”
“I’ll do that, sir,” Cary said.
“Talk to you soon, I need to get on with our allies in Philly.”
Jared’s face disappeared from the screen.
“Well this is just lovely,” Chief Harvey said.
“So, we’re bringing key people here, and sending the rest home for a few days?” Tracy asked.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Mayor Fine said.
“I’ll bring my top leadership over in a couple hours,” Chief Harvey said, “and send the support staff away. Most of them can work from home now, so it won’t impact us much.”
“Kate and Julio, will you help me decide who should come here instead of go home?” Mayor Fine asked.
“Of course,” Kate said, Julio nodding in agreement. She turned to Julio. “Let’s go work something up.”
They got up and left the conference room. The others followed them out, except Tracy, who moved to a chair next to Mayor Fine’s.
“Oh, one other thing,” Chief Harvey said. “Dannon asked if we could send a little surprise package to Sturm.”
“He stayed in Lance’s house, huh?” Mayor Fine asked.
“Yep, Dempsey’s guys staked the place out.”
“What kind of surprise package?” Mayor Fine asked.
“Remember those Zumwalt Destroyers? I called in another favor. They hit the property with several laser-guided projectiles a half hour ago. I was getting ready to contact you when you called me for the meeting.”
Mayor Fine smiled. “Do we know if Sturm got hit?”
“Negative, but I have a call in to the Sagaponack Constable. He’s probably already there, sifting through the rubble.”
“No lead on Lance yet?” Tracy asked.
“Dannon is working with Albena on that,” Chief Harvey said. “He’s in one of the Tesla models that shows a profile on the grid while it’s charging.”
“That might not help us,” Mayor Fine said. “They have a wicked range. He might get to where he’s going without having to charge.”
“True, but I’ll bet he plugs in when he gets there,” Chief Harvey said.
“Okay, that might be promising,” Mayor Fine said. “I’d better get ready to house our guests. Keep me informed on this stuff, please.”
“You got it,” Chief Harvey said. “Talk to you soon.”
Mayor fine ended the call, then leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath. He looked over at Tracy, who was white as a sheet.
“You okay?”
She nodded. “Scared to death, but that’s been more the rule than the exception since this started.”
“You don’t show it often.”
“I know, I’ll get it together. Maybe I should go call the governor of Massachusetts.”
“Is she clean?” Mayor Fine asked.
“Hell, I don’t know. I used to think President Simpson was clean.”
Mayor Fine laughed. “Yeah, so did I, once upon a time. I was even offered a job in his administration once.”
“You were?”
“Yep. Somebody else who I thought was a friend at the time talked me out of it. It turned out to be good advice.”
“Who?”
“Governor Romano.”
Tracy burst out laughing. “I dated him for a few months.”
“You’re kidding.”
Tracy shook her head. “It was about ten years ago, when he was Attorney General. Didn’t take me long to figure out that he had a stable of women on call at all times. I called him on it, and he came up with some song and dance about how most Italian men were like that. Were you friends with him?”
“We weren’t close,” Mayor Fine said, “but he backed me for mayor, mainly to keep somebody else out. I did pick up that he was a horndog, though. He bragged about it.”
“Figures,” Tracy said. “You’ve never been like that, have you?”
“Not while I was married. I was always in love with my wife too much to stray.”
“You should leave here and go to her.”
Mayor Fine was quiet for a moment. “No, I couldn’t forgive myself. Holding this city together is important. I can’t turn my back. Hell, if she doesn’t understand that, we don’t have enough in common anyway.”
Tracy looked at him a long minute, then got up. “I’d better get to work.” She left, Mayor Fine leaning back in his chair, trying to push the despair away. It wasn’t working.
{ 5 }
Road Rage
J ax was in his hybrid, heading west from Boston in four-wheel mode, watching the RFID app. Jenkins, Kent, Gavin, and Adrian were behind him, many more hybrids from the Boston team on parallel roads around them. His target was getting closer. He reached out to his phone, in its hands-free cradle, expanding the view on the long-range RFID app, seeing the entire enemy convoy, five semi-trucks, all packed with hits. He pushed the intercom button. “They’re getting close, guys.”
“We see them,” Kent said. “Think there’s enough of us to take them on?”
“Yeah,” Jax said. “I’ll nail the last in the convoy by getting up front and hitting the cab’s tires. You guys blast through the back of the trailer while I go do the same to the next one in line.”
“Glad they gave these apps to all of us,” Jenkins said.
“We’re gonna change to two-wheel mode, right?” Adrian asked.
“Yeah, before we get within sight of these guys,” Gavin said. “And be careful, don’t get close enough for the semis to hit us.”
“Good advice,” Jenkins said.
“All right, I’m changing over,” Jax said, pulling on the lever in the dashboard, the hybrid changing shape, the front and rear wheels merging from two into one, the sidewalls closing in on Jax, the adrenaline pumping through him as he sped up, leaning around cars, passing them, the last of the semis in view after a moment. He glanced in the rear-view mirror, seeing the other hybrids in two-wheel mode now. Somebody honked near him, the driver showing a thumb up sign, grinning ear to ear, Jax waving at him, then cranking on the power, the front wheel coming up for a few seconds. The semi saw him, starting to swerve back and forth, Jax firing his laser at the driver’s side mirror, the semi going nearly out of control in an instant, moving across several lanes, brushing a compact car off the road, Jax firing his lasers again, first at the mirror, then at the rear cab tires which exploded, the semi completely out of control now, swerving back and forth, hitting the guard rail on the right side of the road and slowing to a crawl, Jax slowing quickly to avoid running into it, the other hybrids there now, opening fire on the trailer, the lasers and rail-gun projectiles taking out the back door, panicked Islamist fighters holding on for dear life, a couple falling out, the hybrids hitting them with another salvo of laser blasts and rail gun projectiles.
“Just learned something important,” Jax said over the intercom.
“What’s that?” Kent asked.
“Fire your laser at their side mirror. Guess what that does to their eyes when they look at you? I did that and the truck went out of control right away. Probably blinded the driver in a split second.”
“Makes sense,” Adrian said. “Should we stick around and nail these guys?” There are quite a few survivors.”
“Negative, the truck isn’t going anywhere, let’s get on the next one,” Jenkins said.
“I’ll hit the front tire of that cab with the laser on my way by,” Jax said. He sped up, going past the trailers behind the stopped cab, hitting the front driver’s side tire, then roaring forward, eyes peeled for the next truck. He saw it when he came over the crest of a small hill, pouring on the speed, weaving between cars, some pulling over in fright as the other hybrids appeared, the group going almost a hundred miles per hour now.
“They see me,” Jax said. “They’re starting to weave like the first guy did. Almost in range to use the laser.”
“Maybe they’ll wise up,” Gavin said.
“So then I go back to the original plan and shoot their tires first,” Jax said. “There, that’s close enough. Firing lasers.” He watched as the mirror was hit, the truck going out of control, crossing three lanes of traffic, hitting a light post barrier, the cab spinning to one side, the trailer whipping sideways, cars all around slamming on their brakes as the other hybrids opened fire on the trailer, hitting it broadside, the metal sides shredding, laser fire hitting men inside, Jax by the cab now, sending several railgun projectiles into the driver’s side fuel tank, the explosion blowing the cab free of the trailer which was riddled with holes now, Islamists crawling out, some on fire.
“Don’t get too close to that, the other fuel tank is still there,” Adrian said. “It’s gonna blow.”
“Yeah, let’s get past this thing before it stops the whole road,” Jax said, rolling past the broken truck, the other hybrids following, a massive explosion going off, Jenkin’s hybrid pushed sideways, almost hitting the center barrier as Jenkins got control again.
“You okay, man?” Adrian asked.
“Yeah,” Jenkins said, “but that was crazy. Too bad we can’t stick around and waste those Islamists, a lot of them survived.”
“Don’t worry, the citizens were stopping, getting out with shotguns and rifles,” Kent said. “Those guys aren’t out of the woods yet.”
“Three more trucks to go,” Jax said, eyes on his RFID app as he raced forward.
***
Lance had one eye on his battery gauge in his Tesla, calculating the miles left to go in his head. Sturm stopped answering his phone shortly after he got back on the road. Lance’s back was still sore from the bed the night before. He’d stayed at some dump on Farrington Street in Queens, mainly because it had underground parking. Now he was on I-628, just past the Whitestone Bridge, heading for an employee’s house. Steph wasn’t happy to hear his voice, but reluctantly invited him over. She didn’t have much choice, after the promotions and the perks. Yeah, she had to put out a few years ago, but he didn’t demand that much from her, and he let her work from home because of her brat. She still owed him.
The traffic was heavier than expected as he switched over to I-95. Steph was in a nice house in Mamaroneck, paid for with a couple generous bonuses and a good regular salary. She wasn’t first on his list to visit… in fact he’d much rather be alone, but she had a Tesla charging station in her garage. That pushed him over the edge, although the memory of Steph losing herself under him was having an effect. She’d resist a little, but then he’d have her. She’d get another bonus. He needed her to keep quiet, for one thing. Where the hell is Sturm? Lance hit the contact again, the phone going to voicemail, the mailbox full. Did Dannon get the better of him? His phone rang. He hit the speaker button.
“Lance?” said the woman’s voice.
“Steph, hello. What’s up, change your mind?”
“No, just wondering when you were gonna be here.”
“I’m on I-95. Shouldn’t be too much longer. My Tesla is getting down on power, I’ll need to plug in.”
“I already moved mine over. See you soon.”
“Thanks again, Steph.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’ll be ready.” She ended the call.
“She’ll be ready?” Lance asked himself, shaking his head, driving silently another half hour. The sign for Fenimore Road finally appeared. The traffic was thinned out now, and he was at the ramp in no time, getting onto the surface streets, driving past strip malls and over the railroad tracks, then into the lush tree-lined residential section, nearing the bay with it’s little marina. He made the right turn onto Prospect Avenue, then turned into her driveway. The garage door opened and he drove in, parking in front of the charging unit, Steph standing in the doorway, holding a drink, her shiny black hair cut just above shoulder length, swaying as she turned, motioning him forward. She held up a hand for him to stop, then pushed the garage door button, and it clattered shut.
“Steph, so good to see you,” he said, getting out, plugging the car in. “You’re looking good.”
“I look like hell,” she said, holding the door for him. He walked through, into her kitchen. “Want a drink?”
“Looks like you’re having some, so sure.”
She laughed. “I know where this is gonna lead, so I figured I’d get myself loosened up. You don’t mind, I hope.”
“I don’t expect anything,” Lance said. She turned back as he followed her to the counter.
“Uh huh. Frankly, I don’t mind, I could use a good animal rutting, and you were always good at that.”
Lance laughed. “I had no idea.” He watched her pour a scotch on the rocks. “You remembered.”
“I remember every moment of our prior encounters.”
“Where’s your daughter?”
“Living at her dad’s house in Michigan. We both thought it was safer.”
“Smart,” Lance said, taking the glass from her, having a sip. “Thanks.”
“You’re being hunted, aren’t you?”
Lance nodded. “Yeah, I’m not very popular with the resistance.”
“Are you a bad guy? In with the enemy?”
Lance sat on the couch, sipping his drink. “Not personally, but some of the folks I was supporting turned out to be, so I’m considered guilty. I was hiding out at the Sagaponack cottage, had to leave.”
“Oh, shit, that’s why it sounded familiar,” she said, sitting next to him on the couch, grabbing the remote off the coffee table, clicking the TV on. “There was a big explosion in a residential area there, just a few hours ago.” She switched to the news channel, as Lance’s heart did flip-flops.
“Did they give the address?”
Steph shook her head. “Not that I heard, but they never do. It wasn’t far from the water. Can’t describe the house, it’s a pile of smoking rubble. Looks like they’re past the story, I’ll check online.” She moved to YouTube and searched, finding video, starting it.
