Bug Out! Atlantic Book 8, page 8
“We have to live in the motor home?” Christy asked.
“No, the house has four bedrooms and sleeper sofas in the living room and den. The place is on three acres.”
“Where is it?” Todd asked.
“Weston,” Devin said. “Upper crust neighborhood, from what he’s saying.”
“Yeah, it’ll be nice if the house has four bedrooms, a living room, and a den,” Tamera said. “Is it defendable?”
“If we get attacked there, we’ll need to get on the hybrids and haul ass,” Chuck said.
“It’s surrounded by forests, and these hybrids are good in the dirt,” Devin said. “We can get off at route 20 and go west through the country. Ought to be a nice drive.”
“I’m convinced, I’ll reply to Ashley and tell her we’re gonna avoid the UN.”
“Good,” Christy said. “Is it far? I’m getting tired.”
“No, we take Route 20 to Morse Road, third house on the right,” Devin said. “Another fifteen minutes or so.”
“I see the sign for Route 20 already,” Todd said. “Wonder if this place has a bar?”
Tamera burst out laughing. “That’s my Todd.”
“We’re being hunted, best to stay straight,” Devin said.
“Probably smart, I guess,” Todd said. “Here’s the ramp.” He left I-95, getting onto Route 20, the others following him onto the lush, tree-lined street, which merged with Boston Post Road as they got further west.
“It’s so pretty back here,” Christy said. “I’ll bet Max is gonna love it.”
“I’ll bet Elliot is gonna love getting Max out of his motor home,” Tamera quipped.
“Hey, be nice,” Devin said, breaking into a chuckle. “He’s a prince among dogs.”
“Unless you’re in the UN,” Chuck said.
“Well, I guess there is that.”
“There’s our street already,” Todd said. “It’s a really hard left, so slow down a tad.” He made the turn, the others following, the road thinning as they went on. “There it is.” Todd turned into the long driveway, shielded by trees from the street, Elliot standing in front of the open garage door, motioning them to roll in. Max was by his side, watching, his big tongue hanging out one side of his mouth.
“Let’s put them in two-wheel mode,” Todd said, making the transition and pulling around to face the door. “This garage is huge.”
“Four car with workshop,” Devin said as he parked, getting out, Max rushing him, Devin down on his haunches petting the happy dog.
“He’s really bonded to you,” Tamera said, walking over, petting Max on his massive head.
“This place is beautiful,” Christy said, looking out at the driveway and the front of the house. “Very private, too.”
“Wait till you see the inside,” Elliot said. “Heard anything about the rest of the team?”
“I asked Ashley,” Todd said. “She said they’re scattered all over the place.”
“The leadership is going to Art’s base, right?” Chuck asked.
“Yeah, also Sunshine and Jacob. They’ll be running the website from there. Enjoy this while you can, we’ll be back in the city as soon as the danger is over.”
“I’ll close the garage door, just in case we get any neighbors coming over to say hello,” Elliot said, walking to the button, next to the house entrance. The door came down.
“Where’s the motor home?” Christy asked.
“Back side of the house. There are hookups.”
“What about your hybrid?”
“It’s covered on the trailer, in four-wheel mode,” Elliot said. “Well hidden. Art got me set up nice to tow it. I can have it off the trailer in seconds.”
“Shall we?” Christy asked, opening the door, walking inside, all lush wood paneling and windows into the dense forest surrounding the house. “Wow, do we know who owns this?”
“Somebody with money,” Tamera said, walking towards the kitchen. “Geez, two subzero refrigerators?” She opened the first one, which was chock full of food. “We’ll be eating well.”
Elliot nodded. “Yeah, the other one’s full too, plus the pantry, and there’s a big chest freezer in the workshop, just off the garage. The security camera system is nuts. There are cameras around the perimeter of the house and in the forest as well. Also motion detectors. Art warned me that deer set it off sometimes.”
“He knows the owner?” Devin asked.
“No, they guy who arranged this told him,” Elliot said.
“Let’s divvy up the rooms,” Tamera said. “Where are they?”
“Two past the kitchen, two in the front of the house,” Elliot said. “The den is in the back part of the house. It’s private enough to serve as a bedroom too.”
“Are you sleeping in the house?” Devin asked.
“Nah, I’m using the motor home. All my stuff is in there.”
“Want Max with you?” Chuck asked. “You know, for protection?”
“Uhhhh, no,” Elliot said, Chuck cracking up, Devin shaking his head.
“I want him close to me,” Tamera said. “Early warning. Which room are you taking, Devin?”
“Don’t care,” Devin said.
“Well let’s check out the two rooms past the kitchen.” She turned and walked that direction, turning back to Devin after a few steps. “Well, are you two coming?”
Devin nodded, following her, Max in tow.
Christy smiled. “They’ll be in the same room in no time flat.”
“Yeah, Devin is definitely in Tamera’s sights,” Todd said. “Think I’ll check out the den. Through that hallway?” He pointed.
“Yeah,” Elliot said. “There are enough bedrooms for all you guys, but I think it’d be good to have one of you in the den, because it opens directly into the backyard, and there are remote video monitors there.”
“Where are the main monitors?” Christy asked.
“Office, through the hallway on the left, towards the front of the house. There are several PCs in the office too. Art sent me login instructions for everything.”
“Maybe this is his place,” Chuck said. Elliot shrugged.
“Let’s go find our room,” Christy said. “I’m beat.”
“Yes dear.” Chuck followed her into the hallway to the front bedrooms.
Todd shook his head. “Wonder how long we’ll be here?”
“Hard telling,” Elliot said. “I asked Art, and he didn’t know, said it depended on the situation in Boston.”
“All right,” Todd said, going towards the hall to the den. “See you later, man. Thanks for taking the lead here.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m going out to the coach to catch some shuteye. I want to be awake into the night, just in case.”
“Okay, see you later.” The den was as nice as Todd expected, having the look of a library, a convertible sofa in the middle of the room, a few pillows sitting on one end, and two blankets neatly folded, sitting on the back. He walked to the windows along the rear of the room, looking into the dense forest, and a shudder ran through him. “Great place for an assault.”
***
Albena was glued to her screen, ignoring the hustle and bustle outside the intel room as people moved in from New City Hall and NYPD Headquarters. Penko came in.
“It’s a zoo out there, but we’ve got plenty of room.” He sat down, then noticed her concentration. “What?”
“Lance Evans. His car showed up on a charger overnight. This is hard to see, probably too late now.”
“He’s disconnected?”
Albena nodded. “Yep, about four hours ago.”
“He might still be there. Did you pass the address along to Dannon? He’s here, along with the whole crew. Saw them in the hallway on the way over here.”
“Not yet, but I knew he was coming. I can’t give him an address, I can only give him a block.”
“Where?” Penko asked.
“Mamaroneck, on Prospect Avenue just south of Fenimore.”
“Shit, he’s not coming back to Manhattan, is he?”
“Sure doesn’t look that way,” Albena said.
Dannon walked in. “We’re settled. Find anything?”
“Somebody charged a Tesla of his type overnight. I didn’t see it until about twenty minutes ago, and he’s already off.”
Dannon looked over her shoulder at the screen. “Mamaroneck, huh? Can you get an address?”
“I can only get down to the block.”
“That’ll be enough,” Dannon said. “Mind if I use that PC again?”
“Please,” Penko said.
Dannon sat down in front of the PC and logged on.
“How can you figure out which house?” Albena asked.
“I can see who has Tesla chargers in that town. There are never that many.” He typed on the keyboard and moved the mouse around, Penko watching him.
“Westchester County?”
“In New York, counties keep track of charging stations, even when they’re in private residences. Remember the law we had until a couple years ago?”
“Oh, yeah, the share your power thing,” Penko said. “Fascists. Anything to promote electric vehicles. I’m glad the manufacturers fought that. It was as bad as stationing troops in your house.”
“The car manufacturers were afraid they’d get blamed when bad things happened,” Dannon said, “but we can be thankful that they did put this system of oppression in place. It’ll help us now.”
Albena burst out laughing. “Man after my own heart. I’d vote for you if you were in my district.”
Dannon winked at her, then went back to the screen. “Bingo. Prospect, just off Fenimore. Only one, registered to Stephanie Carlton. Do you have the time spread for the charge?”
“Four-thirty yesterday to seven fifteen this morning,” she said.
“Let’s see who Stephanie is.” Dannon hammered the keyboard for a few minutes, pausing to move the mouse every so often. “This might take a little while, but he’s probably gone now anyway. Mamaroneck is too close.”
“You thought he’d go to Manhattan,” Penko said.
“I thought he’d stop by Manhattan to pick up some cash for a longer trip. He knows about the EU Navy, and he knows that we know who he is now. I expected him to dump the Tesla and take off from Manhattan in something else.”
“I agree,” Albena said. “A good hacker is paranoid as hell when their name has been discovered, because they know how easy it is to track people. Every transaction you do is visible if people are watching. He needs to grab a whole lot of cash. Can’t be screwing around with plastic when you’re in the crosshairs. If he didn’t come to Manhattan, he’s got cash stashed someplace else.”
“Probably,” Dannon said. “Hello, this is interesting. Stephanie works for Lance’s firm.”
“So maybe he’s hanging out there,” Penko said.
“No, I still think he’s gone,” Dannon said. “He went to her house because he knew she had a charger; he certainly wasn’t going to a pay charger that requires a credit card. Lance will get to his final destination and let that car sit, if he hasn’t dumped it.”
“So how do we find him?” Penko asked.
“I’ve got enough on him to put a good trace bot to work,” Albena said. “He’ll eventually screw up, and we’ll find out where he is. Probably be hard to find out his exact location, though.”
“Hear anything about Sturm?” Dannon asked.
“I’ve been looking at the aftermath of the shelling,” Penko said. “His body was not among those identified so far. Something else is fishy, though.”
“Why do you say that?” Dannon asked.
“There were three un-identified survivors found outside. Somebody went to the hospital and murdered two. The other was transferred out of the same hospital, and the paperwork was forged. The Sagaponack PD is really pissed.”
“Ten to one the UN already has Sturm,” Dannon said. “It’ll be easy to find out, though. Call the nurse who was responsible for the missing person. Ask if the person had a left hand.”
“That was my next step,” Penko said. “I’ll get on that now.”
“Good. Meanwhile I’ll pay a visit to Stephanie Carlton. Thanks, guys, you’re great.” He logged off and left the intel room.
“We’re not gonna catch this guy,” Albena said.
“Which one, Sturm?”
“Lance Evans. He’s too smart. I got him to crack because I could mess with his mind, but I don’t have a way to do that anymore.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Penko said. “He’ll be back at you when he gets settled.”
Albena sat silently for a moment. “Okay, you might have something there. It’ll be harder to push him over the edge next time.”
“Just call him Lance in a message.”
Albena laughed. “No, you never let your adversary know how smart you are.”
{ 7 }
Steph
C aptain James Barker of the Zumwalt-class Lyndon B. Johnson left the bridge, heading to the conference room. He was a large man with salt-and-pepper hair and a serious countenance. First Mate Collin Lightfoot met him in the corridor, a much younger man with sharp eyebrows and a shaved head.
“We gonna see action, Captain?”
“Before Halifax, I’d have said no way,” Captain Barker said. “Now? Seems like we have little choice, but we’ll see what the others say.”
“Who’s the lead for this theater now? Still Admiral Compton?”
“Yes.” Captain Barker waited as Lightfoot opened the door to the conference room. He entered, sitting at the head of the long table, Lightfoot going to the comm unit. He logged on, the meeting ready to start, Admiral Compton on the screen, sitting at the center of a large table, Naval officers sitting around him in uniform.
“Are we all here?” Admiral Compton asked. He was a huge man with broad shoulders and a square jaw, sporting a white crewcut.
“Everybody we need is on, except the captain of the Michael Monsoor.”
“His ship is in the North Sea, correct?” Admiral Compton asked.
“Yes, the Zumwalt and Lyndon B. Johnson are near New York.”
“I’m near Nantucket on the Zumwalt. Captain Clive.”
“And I’m off Montauk on the Lyndon B. Johnson. Captain Barker.”
“Thank you,” Admiral Compton said. “We don’t want to lose either of your ships in this, but we also don’t want to lose thousands of civilians in Boston. Where are the subs?”
“We have twelve spread out around the Atlantic, close enough to get involved. We’re lucky; when things went nuts two of our Washington-based Ohio class Guided Missile subs were here.”
“What other subs do we have?” Admiral Compton asked.
“Eight Los Angeles Class, two Virginia Class.”
Admiral Compton sat quietly for a moment. “Thanks for the confirmation. The Ohio class ships won’t help us in this engagement. They’re better for cruise missile attacks.”
“You have something else in mind for us,” said another voice in the meeting. “It’s Captain Thompson of the Michigan.”
“Move both Ohio-class ships towards Bremerhaven,” Admiral Compton said. “Leave immediately.”
Lightfoot shot a glance at Captain Barker, who grinned.
“You want to hit the EU Navy base there,” Captain Thompson said. “There are two bigger bases that are easier to hit, and have more strategic value.”
“The leader of the EU Navy task force in the North Atlantic is Captain Schroeder. That is his home port. His family lives there.”
“You want a cruise missile attack there?” Captain Thompson asked. “That will kill a lot of civilians.”
“When you mess with the bull, sometimes you get the horns,” Admiral Compton said. “The rest of the subs will head for Boston. Zumwalt class ships and other surface ships, stay back unless called upon. If Schroeder attacks Boston and manages to destroy our subs, we’ll need you available to defend New York and Philadelphia.”
“We’re writing off Boston?” Captain Barker asked.
“We’ll leak that submarines are on their way to Bremerhaven,” Admiral Compton said, “through a contact that has access to the EU High Command. We’ll see if Captain Schroeder cares about his family.”
Lightfoot pushed the mute button. “He already knew exactly what we were gonna do.”
“That’s why they pay him the big bucks, Lightfoot. Unmute us.”
“Are there any questions?” Admiral Compton asked.
“What about the Panama Canal?” asked Captain Barker.
“Repairs are seventy percent done, but we won’t finish before the EU southern task force arrives to damage it again,” Admiral Compton said. “We’re quietly moving ships into the Indian Ocean. Some of them will catch the southern EU task force with their pants down. It won’t help us in the North Atlantic.”
“What about aircraft?” Captain Clive asked. “Where’s the Air Force?”
“I’m working on that, but there are issues.”
“What kinds of issues?” Captain Clive asked.
“This information is classified,” Admiral Compton said. “The leadership of that branch was split at the time of the nuclear attacks. When the enemy faction couldn’t take over the entire branch, they began disabling aircraft and systems. We hid what assets we still had, and they remain hidden now.”
“So we’re not going to use them at all?” Captain Clive asked.
“We’re saving them. The EU and the UN are trying to soften us up for a much larger invasion. We’ll need the Air Force assets to protect us against that, and against China, who is hoping to benefit from the current situation.”
“We’re going to sacrifice cities in the mid-Atlantic?” Captain Johnson asked.
“I didn’t say that, dammit,” Admiral Compton said. “We’re going to do what we can to defend the people on the east coast, but we won’t use our most potent weapons before the worst of the onslaught arrives.”
“Shit, we still have most of the navy too far from the US to protect our ports, don’t we?” Captain Barker asked, Lightfoot looking at him wide-eyed.
