World of Ashes II (23 page)

              Camilla had that story. She finished putting her hair in a ponytail while she talked. “We found you after the helicopters stopped shooting. You were covered in bullet shells, one of them was burned to your face.” She reached out and checked his bandages. Camilla was the nurturing type. “I didn’t want to pull it off, but there wasn’t much choice. When they sent a rescue helicopter I made them take you with us. You may not have an eyebrow anymore.”

              “Thanks.” Daniel was truly humbled, but not super excited about drawing his eyebrows on for the rest of his life. “Who were they fighting? Who were those people on the other side of the river?”

              “Cuban Regulars.” Jose knew that one for sure now. “They have a few of them in the brig. They were trying to steal nuclear materials from the plant, the Navy caught ‘em. Apparently that battle you saw at sea was the larger armada this ship is attached to.”

              “I heard them saying they want to make port at Gitmo to offload the wounded.”

              “Good. Maybe they’ll let us off too.”

              “You can go.” Daniel said quickly. “I need to find out what happened to my parents. If these guys are what’s left of the Government, I need them.”

              Camilla and Jose looked at each other, then whispered, then turned back to Daniel. “We go where you go.”

             
U.S.S. Winston S. Churchill
made port at Guantanamo Bay Naval Base late the next day. The ship was towed directly to a dock and the civilians allowed to disembark. Before Daniel could get what little he had ready to go he was stopped by a Sailor he hadn’t met before.

              “Excuse me, Private Sawyer?” He asked. They were probably the same age, though this guy’s thick rimmed standard issue glasses, or BCG’s*, made him look like a real nerd. “Commander Ogden requests your presence in the CIC.”

              “Me?” Daniel looked confused. “I’m traveling with them, where can I meet up with them after?” He gestured to Jose and Camilla.

              “Shit, man, there’s a McDonald’s if you think that would be easy enough.” The Sailor said. Daniel followed the blue uniformed man up several decks to the darkened room that was the
Winston S. Churchill’s
Combat Information Center. Cmdr. Ogden was standing at a relaxed ease position, her arms comfortably behind her back.

              Though not in uniform, Daniel snapped to attention and reported. “PFC Sawyer, reporting as ordered, Ma’am.”

              Captain Ogden let slip what might have been a slight smile. “At ease. I believe there is someone here, well, on the videofeed, who would like to speak with you.”

              Daniel’s heart raced. For whatever reason his hope beyond hope was it was somehow, miraculously, his father. He was equally happy, yet secretly disappointed, to see his mother on the other end of what sufficed for the government-issue Skype. She saw him, and despite being in uniform broke down crying. It took a moment for her to recompose herself, but when she did she had the broadest smile Daniel had ever seen his mother wear.

              “
You’re alive! You’re alive oh my God you’re alive…
” Annette Brown, as she had remarried after Daniel’s father left, leaned in closer to the screen. Her eyes weren’t focused on the camera, which made it weird to speak to her. Some people hadn’t grasped how to speak on a videophone. “
What happened to your face?
”

              Daniel smiled. “Jose and I were playing hot potato with a grenade. So, you know, same ol’ same ol’. I guess you know I’m in Gitmo now?”

              “
Yes. Yes I do.”
Annette dried her eyes
. “There’s an outbound flight heading for Cheyenne in the morning. I expect you to be on it.
”

              “Are there extra seats?”

              “
For who?
”

              “Jose, remember him? You met him when we graduated AIT?” That was a stupid question. Annette had been so embarrassed her son joined the Army and not the Air Force it had literally been a fight between her and her new husband Gabe about even going. Of course she didn’t remember Jose or anyone else who might have been there. The woman had showed up wearing civilian clothes with absurd looking sunglasses and a blue Carmine San Diego hat.

              “
Yes, yes of course. Are you bringing him with you?
” She lied. This was his chance to use his mother’s need to save face to get what he wanted.

              “And one other.”

              “
I’ll arrange it. Daniel, I love you. Get on that plane, Captain Ogden has promised me you’ll be on it whether you want to be or not…
”

              “I did indeed.” Ogden said from behind Daniel.

              “
I can’t wait to see you.
” She was about to hang up, but could at least read the most pertinent question on her son’s mind. “
Before I go, and I’m sorry to take more of your time, Captain, but no, I haven’t heard from your father. Not since he texted that you’d
-” She trailed off. She hated Clyde, she loved Clyde, she certainly didn’t want him dead though. “
You’ll be able to tell me all about you experience when you get here. I love you, Daniel
.”

              “Love you too, Mom.” He said, fighting back tears. The screen went blank and he turned to Captain Ogden. “By your leave, Ma’am.”

              “You are scheduled on Flight 18 bound for Cheyenne, Wyoming tonight at 2355 hours. Report to the flightline one hour before then.” She put the notebook she was reading the information off of down on a control panel. “I don’t have extra personnel to detach to babysit you, Mr. Sawyer. Can I trust that you and your friends will be on that flightline?”

              “Yes, Ma’am. We wouldn’t miss it for love nor money.” He didn’t know why his response was so casual, he didn’t intend it to be, but he was genuinely adamant that he wouldn’t fail to be on that plane. Daniel wanted to go home, he wanted to see his mother and live like a human being again. Human. That word had new meaning now, one that would require more introspection on his part. Maybe when he was finally home.

              Once safely off the confusing maze of corridors that was an
R. Leigh Burke
class destroyer, Daniel found Jose and Camilla waiting for him at one of a dozen rickety looking tiki bars that lined the beaches. Because they were in the Tropics a rain spurt caught him on the way to the bar and lifted just as he got there. Being the only one now soaking wet, the bar tender had sympathy for Daniel and poured him a draft on the house. Daniel was only twenty, but then who the hell was enforcing that now?

              “So what did the captain want?” Camilla asked, working on a whiskey sour.

              Daniel took his over shirt off and wrung it out. He’d been issued blue scrubs with a card from the ship’s quartermaster that he should be issued new clothing when they arrived at Gitmo. From what the corpsmen aboard ship told him they’d had to cut all of his clothing off to make sure he hadn’t been bitten. Either way he was starting to get cold as the wind from a nearby storm picked up. It could have been a hurricane and they’d still be on that plane.

              “She made contact with my mother.” He smiled, feeling a twinge of survivor’s guilt.

              “Really?” Camilla was confused. That seemed like a waste of resources to just find his family, she didn’t know Daniel that well after all.

              “His mom’s in the Air Force. Pretty high up there too. What did she say?” Jose pressed. He was well on his way to being drunk.

              “Tonight at 2300 we need to be at the flightline. I’m taking you both home with me.”

              “Is it safe there?”

              Jose and Daniel both gave Camilla the
are you serious
look. “Nowhere is safe now, but if there’s anywhere on Earth that resembles safe, it’s the Cheyenne Mountain complex. Trust me, I used to live right next door to it… Figuratively, it was a few miles away.”

              “Why would that place be safer?” Camilla was not well versed in how the United States planned to protect itself. She likely only knew as much about the military as Jose had told her, and it was doubtful she was the type to pay attention to technical details in a disaster movie. What a wonderful, blissful world it must be to never question the logic of what you see in Hollywood’s disconnected representation of any and all things.

              “It’s a hardened nuclear missile command center. It could survive a direct strike from an ICBM. The entire government has probably fallen back there. And, call me crazy, but if they can still control a navy and an air force with units all over the world, I think they can secure one Green Zone on our own turf.” That was awfully optimistic of him, and probably giving the government more credit than it was due.

              Camilla nodded, absorbing it all. “What’s an ICBM?”

There was a FEMA dining hall near a major refugee center at Gitmo, so naturally they avoided the place and found a Navy chow hall instead. The food wasn’t likely to be any better, but the people there were not the poorly behaved, teeming mass of terrified homeless. It would simply make for a quieter, safer meal. Daniel and Jose both missed out on being deployed during the War of Terror, so neither had ever seen what it was like in a dining facility in a combat zone. Everyone had to carry a gun, if they had one of course, and Daniel no longer did. A special section with an armed guard protected the military-in-transition who might not have a weapon. It was scary to think about, being eaten while eating, but the military never did anything they weren’t prompted to do, including posting guards.

              Nobody in Crystal River had really wanted for food, there was so much left behind and so many fish the only way you’d have starved was if you tried, but that doesn’t mean there were any buffets just left out for everyone to take what they wanted from. The chow line was a special place now and Jose gorged himself, showing Camilla all the different things he knew how to make out of everyday foods. She watched, pretending to pay attention as Daniel did while Jose yammered on, but he could sense how lost and scared she felt in a world she’d never seen before. This was all very new and huge in scale compared to anything she’d been through until now, making the crowded lunch room of a city high school look like a microcosm of chaos. At least she had someone like Jose to keep her head above water.

Daniel stuffed himself with wholesome food, not just crackers or MREs, but left just a little bit of room for a treat he’d not had since England. Ice cream. Vanilla, chocolate, stawberry, he didn’t care. It was free and wasn’t going to run out. Daniel got brain freeze twice and felt like he’d throw up if he ate more, and then he did eat more. When the three of them were finally forced to leave so the staff could clean, the walk to the flightline looked like three extremely pregnant women waddling about in a penguin parade.

Jose had snagged a half pint of gin from the tiki bar on the beach and while they waited he passed the bottle around. With growing anticipation they watched the running lights of the C-17, then the spotlights on her landing gear and shouted cheers when the tires squawked on the tarmac. The alcohol put Camilla to sleep while they were still taxying on the runway, which was good because she missed the dog sized rat that ran between their seats. Even the vermin knew he was heading toward the promise land. One of the C-17’s crewmembers came by and kicked the rat with some force before Daniel or Jose had time to do anything about it. The squealing creature fell behind some other junk and flopped back to the metal deck, its hind legs still twitching.

              The crewman reached down and took a nip off the bottle. “Fat little bastards. You see another one just do what I did.” He said before walking off to continue his duties.

              Onboard there were maybe a hundred civilians and another two hundred servicemen wearing every uniform in the US arsenal, plus another group under guard near the front section. These POWs wore either bright orange jump suits, or the stripped down uniforms they were captured in. Daniel recognized the flat green uniforms of the Cubans who’d attacked them in Florida, plus one very shaggy looking face he thought he’d never see again. Chief Anton Kuzma of the Russian Federation Navy.

              The guards watched Daniel with mild disinterest, but didn’t seem to be under orders to keep them from talking to the prisoners. “Hey, Chief.” Daniel said.

              Kuzma looked up, surprised anyone would still call him that. “Mr. Sawyer. You make it, I’m glad to see that.”

              “Why did they arrest you?” Daniel got to the point.

              With a broken smile, Kuzma dodged the question. “Who else makes it, did you see?”

              “You didn’t answer me.”

              Kuzma sighed. “I am sorry, Daniel Sawyer. I lied to you and everyone in Crystal River. I am not Chief Anton Kuzma. He was just a man onboard
Sonya
when shit hits the fan. You may as well know, I am Rear Admiral of Russian Navy Yuri Petrov, 4
th
Fleet. I was supposed to keep Cuba in Russia’s hands. I failed, my comrades and I tried to flee, then I end up with you.”