Reckoning ~ Indian Hill 2 ~ A Michael Talbot Adventure (7 page)

Chapter 6 – Mike’s Journal Entry Four

I watched all of “Cops” and was halfway through the news, when the general finished his meeting.

“So how was that for fun, Captain?”

“I had more fun on the enemy ship,” I answered.

“Just remember, this is Washington and very rarely do things go the way you want them to.”

“General, I don’t think the course of action you are heading towards is the correct one.”

“Well, son, I have an entire staff of generals who believe otherwise.”

“Sir, and just how many of those generals have even seen our enemy?”

“I see where you’re going, Captain,” the general said sternly. “But we made up our minds a long time ago on this matter and we are not about to change course now.”

“Sort of like the Titanic?” I muttered. The general chose to ignore my bait.

“Captain, I need you to get on a plane in two hours.”

“To where, sir?”

“Colorado, Captain. I need you to look in on a side project of mine.” Ah! So my hunch had been right.

“And what about my Hummer, sir? I was beginning to grow very attached to it.”

“Don’t worry about that, Captain; you’ll be flying on a Galaxy C-42. You can take it with you.”

“Rank has its privileges. Are you coming, sir?”

“No, I’ve got to play the political game for a few more days, and then we have to start the evacuation of some of our major cities.”

“You’re going to tell them the truth?”

“Not exactly; we’re going to blame it on terrorists and backpack nukes. As long as the civilians get out, that’s all we’re trying to do. Well, that and we’re going to house our military in the cities, so when they come, we’ll be ready and waiting.”

“Sir, I just don’t think that is such a good idea.”

“Captain, the matter is closed. Let’s go get some lunch and then we can get you and your Hummer on that plane.”

The lunch itself was fairly uneventful but surprisingly edible. I was under the impression that we would be served “shit on a shingle” as my father used to affectionately call the slop he was served during his time in the corps. The general came with me to the military airport but said very little beyond the pleasantries. He appeared deep in thought and would only speak to tell me left or right as the case may be.

“Are you alright, sir?”

“What? I’m sorry did you say something?” I guess the general hadn’t finished with his thoughts yet.

“I asked if you were alright, sir.”

“I’m fine,” the general replied. He looked like he had something more on his mind. And I was right. “I hope that we have made the right decision,” he continued. “I just don’t know if there is a correct one to make.” I had no answers for him, but I don’t think that he was looking for one anyway. He seemed to be voicing his concerns more than anything. For everything I thought was right, there was the equal wrong.

“What do you think, Captain?” He turned, finally focusing on me instead of that thousand-yard stare he had going on.

“Sir, you know where I stand on this.”

“I know, I know. I want to hear it again.”

“Sir, the Progerians’ standard operating procedure is to come down here with guns a-blazing. They will want to crush our military and a few major cities just to prove who is in control. They want to sap the will out of us before they move in for the occupation and eventual colonization. We will basically be their cattle, their dogs and their slaves.”

“That will only happen if they break through our lines of defense,” the general interjected. He seemed a little perturbed. I don’t think that he was used to being contradicted by someone of such junior rank.

“General, you asked me for my opinion.” That seemed to ease him down a bit.

“Continue, Captain,” he said as he settled back in his seat.

“With all due respect, sir, we got extremely lucky by being able to get that nuclear weapon aboard their mother ship. And I agree it did some serious damage. But the fact remains, and so does the ship. We threw our hardest punch at them while they weren’t even looking; and they are still up and swinging. If we go toe to toe with them, we will lose.” The general, again, began to let his emotions bleed through, but thought better of it.

“Our best bet, sir, is to let them believe that we have been knocked out for the ten count. Let everybody in the stands go home. Then we get up and mount an attack when they are at their most vulnerable, after they are completely comfortable on this planet.”

“What you’re saying, Captain, is that we should just open the gates and allow them in?”

“Sir, in a way, yes.”

“We’ll just let those ‘things’ crawl all over our planet? It could be months before they relax their military grip.”

“That’s a possibility, sir.”

“We could be wiped out in that time period. Are you willing to take that risk? You said yourself you would rather go out fighting than become their evening meal. How, Captain, would we launch a full-scale invasion after they’re here? We’d have no means of communication that they wouldn’t have already tapped into. And where would we hide this onslaught? I’m sure they’ll have surveillance craft circling the globe for months just looking for stockpiles. After our little stunt with the shuttlecraft, they may not deem us a race worth retaining, they just might want to obliterate us. If your dog bites, you shoot him. That’s my biggest concern.”

The general had valid points and I could see the reasoning behind them, but in my gut, I felt that the joint chiefs-of-staff had erred. I believed they were taking a big step against mankind’s very existence. 

“If we do not take action, the population of the world will give up even quicker. They will wonder what has happened to their respective militaries. They will be thinking, ‘If they don’t fight, then we won’t fight.'”

“Sir, the other side of that is equally as devastating. If they see the military taken out in a stroke, they will believe that they have no chance to stand up and fight either.”

“Hence my dilemma, Captain. But this is where you and a few of your friends come in.”

“How so, sir?”

“The president may or may not know about this. Either way, he hasn’t said anything. For almost a year now, I have been in the process of funding a militia.”

“Paul, sir?”

“Well, well, Captain, you certainly are full of surprises! Anyway I want you attached to his unit. I have no desire to see you wiped out in a stroke, as you call it.”

“But, sir?”

“No buts, Captain. If this really goes down as you think it will, I want men of your caliber waiting in the wings to rectify the wrongs that will have been committed.”

“We’re the back-up plan, sir?”

“Yes, and a very well funded back-up plan. I know Paul has something in the works now. He wants to get out from under our scrutiny, and I’m going to allow him that illusion.”

“Well, sir, now it’s my turn to be surprised. How did you know?”

“I have my ways.”

“You have a plant!”

“How I know is not important. I have made every attempt to know as little about his operation as possible. The less I know, the less I can tell anybody else. Yes, even the enemy, if it comes to that. My only dealings with Paul are financial and the occasional hard to find military equipment, as well as keeping all the federal bulldogs off his back. The FBI and the ATF are all over his training area, just waiting for a screw-up so they can shut that place down.”

“Sir, how can you possibly keep them at bay?”

“Well, I’ll be honest with you, son. The president is a very powerful man but he is not the most powerful. I have connections in this town and around the world that could make the president quiver in his boots, if he knew. I have given my assurances to these ‘connections’ that what is happening in the mountains of Colorado is of vital national and global security. The rest, well, the rest takes care of itself.”

“How many men does he have up there, General?”

“It’s somewhere in the neighborhood of two thousand.”

“Two thousand!” I exclaimed as I swerved the vehicle. I was thinking somewhere perhaps in the fifties or maybe a hundred. Definitely not two thousand.”

“Yeah, I thought it was pretty impressive myself.”

I boarded the plane still half in a daze. Paul had never struck me as the type to lead that many men and, I guess, women. He had always been a charmer and very charismatic. Thinking about it, I guess those were traits that you want to have to pull off this kind of thing. I was just always so used to seeing it done on a much smaller scale. Normally, he pulled out his best stuff to get Suzy Rotten Crotch back to his apartment so that he could, again, rub my nose in how many women he had scored with. He sometimes had a hard time tracking exactly how many girls he’d seduced. I could count all my conquests on one hand and still have some fingers left over.

I had known Paul almost seven years, and have even lived with him for a while and still, could not figure out how he did it. He was so good with the women. They were drawn to him like puppies to milk; it was pretty impressive to watch.

I drifted in and out of sleep on the flight. It was by no means crowded, but lacking the protective shell that commercial planes had, it was a very loud ride. Of the fifteen or twenty odd military personnel on board, most looked like they were going to Colorado for a little R and R on the slopes. There were some upper brass but, for the most part, they were lance corporals and corporals, probably all headed to Aspen for some skiing. Good for them, I thought, they might as well enjoy it while they could.

The plane landed right outside of Colorado Springs at the Air Force Academy. I decided that the pilot of the plane could use a few more classes while he was there. He bounced the plane off the runway four times before he got it right. If there had been ice, we would still be trying to stop. I was allowed to unload my Hummer first which more than pissed off one colonel.

“That general and his lackeys, always trying to show his superiority with special privileges and all,” the colonel said, a trifle too loud. My guess was he wanted to be heard. Fine I’d call his bluff.

“Did you say something, sir?” I asked as I turned towards him.

“No, nothing, Captain. I was just commenting on the weather.”

“Beautiful day, isn’t it sir?” I answered with a smile. I would have to remember this colonel’s name, he had no balls.

“Yes, quite,” he replied as he turned away to shun any further conversation. We both knew he had backed down, and now he wanted to save as much face as possible to his friends.

My Hummer had been off-loaded and I was about to make the three-hour trek when I noticed the corporal and a couple of his friends heading towards the bus depot.

“Corporal! Hey Corporal!” I shouted.

“Yes sir!” he said as he came running towards me. I imagined that he assumed I had some unenviable task for him to perform and, more than likely, was trying to come up with all sorts of explanations why he couldn’t.

“Corporal, where are you headed?”

“Winter Park, sir. My friends and I are going to meet our girlfriends and do some skiing at Corporal Biddington’s fiancée’s cabin.”

“Very nice, grab your gear.”

“Sir, I’m on leave, sir.”

“Corporal, get your friends and your gear and let’s go.”

“Sir?”

“Corporal, I’m headed that way too. You can either wait two hours for the bus and then take a six-hour trip on said bus or you can all pile in here and be there in three hours.”

“Alright, sir!” The corporal was obviously pleased not to have to waste the majority of the day on a crowded bus. “Guys! Grab my stuff! Let’s go!” The other corporals were just as surprised, but they knew a good thing when they saw it.

The trip went by a lot faster with the laughter and conversation. It was a great relief not to have to be introspective for the rest of the day. The corporals said their thanks and crawled out into the waiting arms of their girlfriends. I envied them that. They would be spending this cold winter night in the arms of the ones they loved. I would have to work on that, if I got the chance.

The rest of the drive was solemn. I began to do what I had so valiantly tried to avoid. I began thinking about all those poor souls whose lives I cut short. I don’t know if I was being selfish, but I kept coming back to one thought, better them than me. I had been in my dress alphas the whole trip, but decided it would be prudent to get into my BDU’s (battle dress uniform) before I arrived at the training facility. I would stick out like sore thumb, if not. From the general’s briefing, it was my contention that a regular military presence might not be welcomed with open arms. I stopped at a gas station along the way to do the change. When I came out of the men’s room, I saw two men poking around my Hummer.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” I tried my best to quell the anger that was burning inside of me. One of them was on a radio reporting to who knows who?

“Yeah, you can help us by leaving us the hell alone,” the bigger man said as the smaller man cut short his conversation and approached from the other side of the vehicle.