Officer Of The Watch: Blackout Volume 1 (11 page)

Eric stepped in front of Mike and grabbed him by the shirt with both hands, forcing him to a stop.

"Mike, she's gone," Eric said.  "There's nothing you can do for her, and you don't want to see it."

"NO!" Mike cried.  "You're wrong! We've got to
help
her!"

Eric tightened his grip as Mike tried to pull away.  "Listen to me, Mike.  She's got a two foot long piece of steel rebar through her chest.  It pierced at least one lung and part of her heart.  She bled out in a matter of seconds.  She's gone, man.  I'm sorry."

Mike's knees gave way and he collapsed to the ground, tears streaming silently down his cheeks.  His face was twisted into a gruesome mask of pain and anger as he stared down at the smoking rubble of the bridge and Claire's body lying on the roadbed.  Finally, after a moment, he looked up at Eric with red eyes and fresh tear tracks cut through the dust, sweat, and grime on his cheeks.

"We've got to take care of her," Mike whispered hoarsely.  "Bury her, or something.  At least get her out of the road like that."

As Eric helped Mike stand, he put a hand reassuringly on his shoulder.  "Come on up with the others," Eric said, "and we'll talk about it."

Mike nodded numbly and let himself be turned away from the bridge.  The three of them walked slowly up the hill to the parking lot of the Stop-n-Shop.  Bill and Imogene were waiting outside their tent.  Bill's left arm hung in the makeshift sling across his chest and he had his revolver in his good hand.  Imogene's cheeks were wet with fresh tears.

"Claire," Imogene said, her voice cracking, "are you sure she's...?"

Eric nodded.  "Yeah, I'm sure.  It was over so quick I don't think she really had time to even feel it."

Imogene nodded and buried her face in Bill's massive shoulder as sobs shook her from head to toe. 

"What the heck was that?" Bill asked, gesturing towards the ruined bridge.

"I'm not sure," Eric replied, shaking his head.  "Some kind of airstrike I think.  I heard a jet engine right before it hit."

"Why would someone bring down this bridge? We're not near anything important really," Bill said, confused.

"I can't say," Eric answered, "but I don't think this is an isolated thing.  They blew up an old train trellis south of here, and there have been flashes all around the city throughout the night.  I was so tired I just wrote it off as lightning from a far off thunderstorm, but it was too scattered for that.  I think they're cutting off the city."

"For what?"  Mike asked with fear thick in his voice.

"Make it easier to control," Bill said.  "They did the same thing in WWII.  Go in and bomb all the bridges and roads leading out of a city; save your road in.  Then you send in the ground troops and paratroopers to subdue it; no escape for the enemy and no resupply."

Eric felt a sudden knot of fear in the pit of his stomach.  "If that's really what they're doing," he said softly, "then the next step is invasion."

He looked around and slowly each member of the group gave some sign of acknowledgement and agreement.  "We've got to get out of here," Eric said finally.  "If this bridge was important enough to blow up, then they'll definitely be sending a team to make sure the job was done right.  I don't want to be up here when they come through."

"What about Claire?" Mike grated through clenched teeth.  "We can't just leave her in the road like that."

"We've got to, son," Bill said.  He holstered his revolver and put a massive hand on Mike's shoulder.  "If we move her or bury her, it'll be a sure sign to the people who come that someone was here.  I know it's tough, by try and think it through, Mike.  They bombed that bridge in the dead of night when they didn't think anyone would be around to see it.  You really think they'll be okay with a group of eye-witnesses walking around breathing?"

"We'll have to leave one of the tents and a sleeping bag,” Eric said.  “Spread some random supplies around to make it seem like Claire was alone.  With any luck, they'll brush her off as random collateral damage."

Mike turned his head, spat, and then stalked off towards the truck.  It took the rest of them less than hour to set up the fake campsite.  They raided the store for what they could carry and left enough to make a convincing case for Claire being a lone traveler.  When everything else was in the truck and ready to go, the eastern horizon was just starting to fade from black to dim purple with the first hints of the sunrise that was still a few hours away. 

Mike stood for a long time looking down at the smoking rubble of the bridge and the body of one of the few true friends he'd ever had in his life.  Mike said good bye to his partner and his friend while the rest of the group waited in the truck, the engine running.  Mike knelt briefly, tears clouding his vision, and whispered, "I don't know if you're there, God.  I stopped asking you for things a long time ago, and I don't much give a damn what you think about it.  But you took a good woman tonight.  I hope you had a good reason for it."

After a moment of silence in response, Mike stood and turned his back on the burning bridge.

Ch. 24

Keys Please

Chris dropped to one knee beneath a stand of oak trees next to the gravel path they'd been following.  Joe followed him and dropped to a knee with his back to Chris.  He kept an eye on their back trail, watching for any pursuit and finding none.  The sky to the east was beginning to turn a light purple with a hint of gray at the very bottom edge.  The sun would be up within a couple of hours, and they'd lose the slim advantage night had afforded.  Already it was light enough to make out, without the help of the night vision scope, the shapes of a handful of deer moving in the tree line across the park from them. 

Chris cursed under his breath and tapped Joe lightly on the shoulder.  "There's a Humvee and four of those contractor assholes in front of my house," he whispered, and handed Joe the small high-magnification spotting scope.

Joe put the scope up to his eye and pressed the activation button.  The image in the scope was surprisingly clear, and he could make out the four men standing in a loose perimeter around the Humvee.  The vehicle had a mounted .50 caliber machine gun, but no gunner at the moment.  A fifth man came into view from the house with something that looked like a file or a clipboard in his right hand.  He reached into the Humvee and took a radio handset.

"There's a fifth guy," Joe whispered.  "Looks like he's getting orders from command somewhere by radio.  I don't think they're here by accident, Chris.  How do you want to play it?"

"We go around through the trees," Chris whispered.  "Come in through the back door.  We get Meg and the baby out the back and into the shed first, and then we deal with
them
."

"Look, Chris," Joe said softly, "we can get Meg and the baby and just head out the back.  We don't have to go after those guys out front as long as they stay put."

Chris's eyes were hard as stone when he turned to Joe.  "They came to my home, Joe.  They put my wife and my child in harm's way."

"I know," Joe said, and he put a hand on Chris's shoulder.  "I'm just saying if we go in guns blazing, we're going to end up putting them in a lot more danger.  We've got to be smart, okay?"

Chris took a deep breath and nodded slowly.  He stood and led the way through the trees and around the end of the cul-de-sac.  They worked their way slowly and silently around to the back of the house.  Chris sat for a minute, surveying the back yard and carefully checking for any contractors, but it was clear.  He gave the signal and Joe followed him up the steps to the back door.

Chris carefully unlocked the double dead bolts and the handle lock.  He opened the door slowly and sat for a moment by the opening, listening.  When he was satisfied that it was clear, he opened the door and stepped inside, sweeping to his right.  Joe followed close behind him, and swept to the left.  The pair went room to room throughout the first floor, clearing each room as they went. 

Chris led the way up the stairs and stopped at the top landing.

"Meg," Chris whispered.  "Meg, I'm coming up."

Chris stepped up and into the hallway at the top of the stairs.  Joe covered him from the top step and saw a woman with dark, curly hair stick her head out of the bedroom at the far end of the hallway.  She recognized Chris immediately and stumbled out of the doorway to him, a bundle of blankets and quilts in her arms.

Chris wrapped his arms around her and half carried the two of them down the hall towards Joe.  Just then there was a loud pounding on the front door, and Meg jumped. 

"Mrs. Boltzmann," a voice shouted from outside.  "I know you are inside, Mrs. Boltzmann, and I know your husband isn't.  You have to let us in, ma'am.  We have a warrant from the Department of Homeland Security to search the premises.  If you don't open the door, ma'am, I have been given permission to break it down.  Now I don't want to do that, but you're not giving me much choice.  I want you to understand that impeding a federal investigation is a crime, ma'am."

"That guy's been here for a half hour," Meg whispered angrily.  "Woke up Sam and she's been fussy ever since.  I was going to open the door until I saw the guns they've got.  What the hell is going on, Chris?"

Chris just shook his head.  "No time to explain it right now.  What do you think, Joe?"

"Four man team plus a driver and Mr.  Loudmouth," Joe said, shaking his head.  "I had hoped we could slip by them, but I don't think that's an option anymore.  If they have to breach, they'll come in from the front and back.  That will split them up, at least.  If we push them to it, though, then there's going to be bullets and blood."

"You got a better idea?" Chris asked, a hard edge to his voice suggesting that he hoped the answer would be no.

Joe smiled a cold smile. "Yeah," he said, and pulled his silenced Beretta.  "We let Mr.  Loudmouth in and have a conversation."

"How do we do it?" Chris asked.

"Meg, go put the baby in her crib," Joe said.  "Then you go down and tell the guy with the clipboard that you're scared, but you're going to let him in, and only him.  When he comes in, you tell him to close the door behind him.  When he does, Chris and I will step out and deal with him, got it?"

"I'm not scared," Meg said, frowning.  "I'm pissed off."

"Fine," Chris said, "be pissed off, but can you do this?"

"Sam's going to fuss," Meg said, patting the baby on the back softly.

"Even better," Joe said.  "That'll give Mr.  Loudmouth out there something to focus on other than you.  Now, if he comes to the door with anyone else, you tell him flat out you're not opening it unless it's just him, got it?"

Meg nodded and walked back down the hall.  After a few moments, she emerged from the bedroom without the bundled baby.  Sam started wailing as soon as the bedroom door closed, and Meg growled deep in her throat.  The look she cast Joe should have been deadly, and she stalked down the stairs.  Joe took a position in the office just to the left of the front door, with the door partially closed.  Chris slipped into the closet beneath the staircase.

The man outside knocked on the door again, and Meg yelled, "OKAY! Jesus, please, just stop pounding the door! I'll let you in, but only you, okay? I've got a baby in here, and I don't know what to do!"

"Okay, Mrs.  Boltzmann," the man outside replied.  "But my men will have to come in eventually to conduct the search."

"Okay," Meg said, her voice breaking a little.  "But just you first.  I need to know I can trust you."

"I'm alone," the man outside called.  "My men are standing down.  Now, unlock the door, please."

Chris stuck his head out of the closet door and nodded.  Meg stepped hesitantly forward, clutching her nightgown close around her.  She reached up and unlocked the door, then stepped quickly back away from it.  The door opened slowly, and a middle-aged man in tactical gear stepped inside.  He held a clipboard in his right hand and had a holstered pistol on that same side.  He held his hands clear of his body in a non-threatening gesture.

"Okay, Mrs.  Boltzmann," the man said.  "I'm alone, just like I said.  Now, can my men come do their job?"

"Close the door, please," Meg said, pointing to the front door.  "You'll let bugs inside."

With a sigh, the man turned, and pushed the door closed.  When he turned back to Meg, he found Chris's pistol in his face.  The man's eyes went wide and he opened his mouth, but Chris shook his head slightly.

"You say one word," Chris whispered, "and I'll drop you right here.  You make one move I don't like, and I'll drop you right here, got it? The only reason you're breathing right now is cause of him."  Chris jerked his head towards Joe, who was just stepping out of the office.  "So don't give me a reason to mess up my floors, okay?"

The man with the clipboard nodded.

"Good," Chris said.  "Now, three steps forward, then down on your knees.  Hands behind you and lock your thumbs."

The man complied, and Joe stepped up behind him.  Joe took the man's pistol and handed it to Chris, then patted him down and removed three knives and set them to the side.  Joe used nylon zip-ties to secure the man's hands, and he picked up the clipboard.  Joe and Chris pulled the man to his feet, walked him slowly to the living room, and dropped him roughly on the couch.  Chris pulled a pillowcase from one of the pillows in the closet and dropped it over the man's head, then pulled Meg off to the side.

"Go get the baby quiet," Chris whispered, looking back at the man on the couch.  "We're going to have a nice little talk with our new friend over there.  Whatever you hear, you keep the baby upstairs until I come get you, okay?"

Meg nodded, tears streaming down her face for the first time.

"It's okay, baby," Chris said soothingly.  "I'm here now, and nothing's going to happen.  You just go take care of Sam.  Joe and I will take care of
...  this
."

Meg nodded and wiped away the tears as she climbed the steps.  Joe sat on the coffee table across from the man and Chris stood behind him.  When Joe nodded, Chris took the man's hood off and held the detached suppressor from his Beretta against the back of the man's head where he couldn't see it, but could definitely feel the pressure.  The man's eyes went wide again, and the color drained from his face.