The End (25 page)

“I think they want us to hold on for a minute,” Barone responded.

A moment passed and the man who had left reappeared and handed the other a bullhorn.

The first man took the bullhorn and said, “Colonel Barone, what was the name of that blonde from Fremantle back in 1999?”

“What?” the first officer asked out loud. He put down his binoculars and looked at Barone.

Barone was stunned by the question; he kept looking through the binoculars to see if he knew who just asked him the question.

“Who are you?” Barone asked.

“Maybe this will help,” the man said. “A half pint for a half pint?”

Barone's eyes lit up. He knew who it was.

“Captain White! What the hell are you doing bobbing in the water?” Barone asked.

“We're waiting for you.”

Barone was shocked to hear that. He looked around and saw other puzzled looks on the faces around him.

“Get your ass over here,” Barone said.

Captain White gave a thumbs up.

“Sir, who is that?” the first officer asked.

“Why, Lieutenant, that is Captain David White of the USS
Topeka
and an old dear friend of mine. We go way back. Now get the captain over here without delay,” Barone told the first officer.

 • • • 

Barone poured White another drink and sat down. He looked at his old friend, whom he had not seen in five years. The years had not been good to David. His black hair had been replaced with thick white, his eyes sagged, and his skin was blotchy. There was sadness in his eyes that was not present before. Barone did not know where the years had gone since they had last spent time together. How easy it had become to move on from friends and colleagues. How could you spend each day with someone, then one day say goodbye and not see them for five years?

“I appreciate all the bourbon,” White said before taking another sip.

“You're welcome, old friend.”

“Let's talk about the eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room.”

“Eight hundred pounds? More like an eight-hundred-million-pound gorilla to me,” Barone joked.

White took another drink and put his glass down. “A few days ago we received word from the secretary of defense that we were to patrol the waters out here looking for a rogue colonel and his band of mutinous Marines.” White chuckled and continued. “Our orders were to track you down and destroy the ships, take no prisoners, do not negotiate, just sink your ships.”

“I guess the president wasn't joking when he said he wanted to stop me.”

“I've known you for a long time; we had the pleasure of working together years back on that Wes-Pac. You're a gung ho Marine. I know your wife, I know your children. You're a good man.” White paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, then continued. “When they told me it was you, I knew you wouldn't just do something like this without a damn good reason. I couldn't just destroy these ships and kill you and those Marines and sailors without hearing from you what's going on.”

“First, let me thank you for not sinking my ships. Second, what I'm doing is taking my Marines and these sailors back home to their families. Our initial orders were to go back and assist the others in the recovery effort back east. With the intelligence we've received, it seems as if the entire power grid is down across the country. This leaves our families vulnerable. I could not in good conscience take the men to the opposite coast from their families to help dig up dead bodies. What has happened at home is catastrophic and we may not fully recover for years. If we don't get back to California soon and help our families there, there may not be a home or family to go back to.”

White just nodded and looked at Barone.

“I thought about this carefully, and our country is gone. It was destroyed within seconds. You know these scenarios; you take away food, water, medicine, law and order and every city will destroy itself within weeks. We may not be able to help everyone when we get home, but we'll protect our families and there we can start to rebuild with what we have. David, there is a ninety-nine percent chance that our country will not look the same in a year; hell, could be less time. The way I look at it, I'm not committing treason or mutiny when there is no country to mutiny against,” Barone finished, then took a drink.

“Well, I've had a few days to ponder what the hell you were doing and I knew you wouldn't just do something foolish. I knew you had a plan and a damn good reason.” White reached over and grabbed the bottle and poured himself another drink. He took a sip and exhaled loudly. “As you know, the Topeka's home port is San Diego, and we have family back there too. Colonel Barone, may we join your pack of wily mutineers?” White lifted his glass in the air to toast.

Barone was shocked and overjoyed. He lifted his glass and tapped White's glass and said, “Captain White, you and your men are welcome to join us.”

“Thank you, Tony. Now let me tell you how lucky you are we found you first.”

That comment sparked Barone's interest. He leaned forward and asked, “What do you know?”

“I know that they have a few destroyers looking for you. They also have Hawaii on alert and plan on using land-based aircraft and even missiles to stop you.”

“I guess I'm not getting close to Hawaii, then. Is there a way you can keep tabs on where the destroyers are by communicating with them till we are in a safe area?”

“Exactly my plan,” White responded with a grin.

“Cheers again, my friend,” Barone said lifting his glass.

San Diego, California

Gordon and his team had just returned from outside the gates. Each day brought lighter loads and more news of the destruction and collapse of the city. Every new day they pushed farther and farther into areas they had not gone before only to find few supplies but more death. They constantly encountered hungry bands of people begging for food. Gordon was sympathetic, but he would not budge and commanded his men not to assist anyone unless they could offer value to their community. Resources were tight and adding more people would only take away from their own. It was tough as he looked upon the gaunt faces of those hungry and dehydrated women and children but he would remind himself of his own children and the responsibility he had to them. His teams also were encountering more executions and more graffiti that said
“Villista.”
He knew now there was a group operating that was organized and lethal. A new startling development had started a couple days ago; smoke plumes on the skyline were becoming a common sight to the south. No one knew the reason, but someone was setting buildings on fire.

The dwindling food supplies started to create stress on the community. There were some in the community who never had much food in their pantries to start, and with the rations being limited and not adequate those people were going to bed hungry. His security force had already broken up three altercations between neighbors over food rations. Gordon knew it was going to get worse unless they could find more large caches of food. The gardens were planted but would not produce food for some time. He had created hunting teams to help supplement but after a few days of hunting they had only brought back a couple of coyotes, which most of his neighbors refused to eat.

Gordon started to see the physical decay in the community now. The grasses had just now started to brown and many of the previously well-maintained flowers were starting to look wilted. Dust and dirt were slowly starting to gather on the abandoned cars. The smell of feces was becoming more prominent as people were not disposing their human waste properly in the backyards. The one fortunate statistic after twelve days after the attack was that only one person had died.

Seventeen families had left the security of the gates to try their luck outside. Gordon never attempted to convince anyone if they decided to leave; he felt it was their choice. He did warn them of the dangers on the outside, but he never would work hard to get them to stay. The thoughts of leaving had also come across Gordon's mind more frequently now. He did not know how long they could maintain what they had. If the size of the loads that were coming back continued to get smaller, they would run out of food. However, before that happened the community would probably turn on itself.

Ever since he had been subjected to Mindy's “court,” Gordon had started to work on an alternative plan. He kept thinking of their place in Idaho. Their mountain cabin was located in the town of McCall. The town was surrounded by tens of thousands of acres of public land. It was pristine alpine country and the wildlife was abundant. He had discussed this idea with Samantha, who was supportive of whatever he thought was best. Because of his quick response immediately after the attacks, he had secured enough food to last his family months. Fuel was not an issue; he now had a vehicle himself and sufficient medical supplies. Making the journey to Idaho would be tough, but if he could get a convoy to go with him they just might make it. Gordon had yet to discuss his plans with Nelson or Jimmy.

Gordon had not seen Jimmy for days and was concerned for him. He thought of them often and hoped that he and Simone were doing okay. Gordon also thought often about his brother; he was curious how far the attacks had gone. Every time someone knocked on his door, every time he was called to one of the gates because a stranger had approached requesting aid, he'd look up and expect to see Sebastian. The thought that he'd never see him again also crossed his mind. He'd never see a lot of people again. So many people were a part of his life before. The girl who was a clerk at the grocery store or his daughter's dance teacher, where were they now? His clients whom he'd chat with regularly over the phone, how were they making out? Samantha's many friends were scattered throughout the county, their situations were unknown and would most likely remain that way. She had remained relatively calm about her parents; he assumed she knew there wasn't much they could do for them. The Midwest might as well be halfway around the world. So much had changed in a blink of an eye, it sometimes was overwhelming.

The past few days, Gordon had been teaming up with Max. It didn't take long for Max's smugness and arrogance to wear on him. His nonstop talking, specifically talking about himself and all the women he used to get. He would complain that the attacks “fucked up his play.” Gordon missed Jimmy and couldn't wait for his return to the teams.

After that day's run, Max had dropped Gordon off at his driveway. Gordon was excited to be done with him and to see his family. He missed them terribly each day he was gone. Just before he made it to his front door, a voice he was familiar with and equally detested came from a few feet away.

“Gordon?”

Gordon stopped. He looked down, shook his head, and turned around.

“What?” Gordon asked, clearly not happy.

“I am quite aware that I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now, but I want to say a few things,” Dan said, slowly walking up to Gordon.

“You're right, Dan; you are the last person I want to see.”

“Do you have a minute or two?” Dan asked sheepishly.

“Not really, but go ahead,” Gordon said, looking down at his watch.

“What happened a few days ago—” Dan paused. “You see, I'm not like you; I saw what happened at the hospital and was freaked out by it. I am now aware that this is a new world we're living in and it requires new tactics and a new moral code.”

Gordon just looked at Dan and nodded in agreement. He then made a comment about Dan's face.

“What happened to you?”

Touching his face, Dan replied, “An altercation on the outside. We ran into a small gang.” Dan had a black eye and bruises on his lips and cheek.

“How come I'm just now hearing about it?”

“It wasn't anything, typical bullshit. Tim and I took care of them.”

“Is Tim okay?”

Pausing before he answered, Dan finally said, “Yeah, he's fine.”

“Okay, go ahead, how can I help you?”

“I wanted to apologize and see if we could start new. We need to work together,” Dan said, then put out his hand.

Gordon just stared at Dan and then his outstretched hand. He paused for a brief moment then reluctantly took Dan's hand and shook it.

“Is that it?” Gordon asked.

“No, it's not. I wanted to discuss something that we encountered in the field today.”

“Go ahead,” Gordon said impatiently.

“We were operating south near Mira Mesa Boulevard when we came across what I believe is that group calling themselves the Villistas.”

As soon as Gordon heard the name, his curiosity perked up.

“I happened to see four vehicles pull into a Lowes. I thought it strange when I noticed all the barbed wire fence around the store. We set up in a blind and conducted surveillance on them for about an hour.”

Gordon was really listening now.

“They had vehicle after vehicle going in and out of the place. A couple of times we heard screams and gunshots coming from the store. I think they are caching a large amount of supplies there.”

“How many men did you see?” Gordon asked.

“We counted a total of twenty-four different vehicles go in and out in the hour we watched. Each vehicle had two people in it and the site had what looked like seven guards along the perimeter.”

Gordon was thinking, but his thoughts soon gave way to reality. He realized he did not have the means to conduct a successful attack on them and take their precious food supplies.

“Gordon, if we could plan a raid I think we might be able to replenish our supplies and give us a boost in the arm,” Dan finished. He was very excited about what he'd seen and thought it valuable.

“Dan, this is all very interesting. Let me sleep on it and we can reconvene in the morning.”

Dan looked almost sad. He had wanted Gordon to be very excited and wanted him to recognize him personally for this information.