September 6th, 2017

“Shit! I shouldn’t have stayed up binging that show.” Kayla says as she races out of her house.

“I love you, Kayla!” Mom shouts behind her, “And don’t forget to pick up Holly from school!”

“Yeah yeah!” 20-year-old Kayla shouts back, “Love you too, Mom.”

It’s the least Kayla can do after Mom saved her when her own alarms, all 5 of them, didn’t wake her up. Kayla jumps into her month old silver 2017 Toyota Camry. She throws her Macbook and books onto the passenger’s seat. She straps herself in and kicks the ignition into gear.

“Didn’t even have time to do my morning streaks.” Kayla says as she drives away.

Now Kayla Danvers is driving 2 miles over the limit in her Camry. She's already halfway through her 20-minute commute to her morning class at the Florida Keys Community College. An upside of being late is the road being clearer due to most of the early morning traffic dying down.

“Can’t believe I skipped breakfast.” Kayla says, noting the downside of being unpreparedly late.

Last year’s “Starboy” blasts through her car’s speakers from her apple music. Kayla’s ex had introduced such songs to her. He left but the music stayed. C’est la vie.

“I’ll just get a bagel with Alena after class.” Kayla says then sighs, “I already owe her-”

BOOM!

An explosion suddenly erupts right in the middle of the road Kayla is driving on. With only 3 seconds to think, Kayla swerves into the ditch. The last thing Kayla feels is her airbag’s punch.

9.11 am, Overseas Highway Key West

***

“Good morning, Susan.” Max Smith says then asks, “How’re the kids?”

“They’re fine, Mr. Smith.” Susan responds, “They’re already looking forward to the weekend.”

Max is standing in a black business suit holding a binder as he converses with his secretary, Mrs. Susan Green. This is shaping up to another typical Wednesday morning at the firm. The small office of a dozen people is just beginning its day and employees are still trickling in.

“Wait until they grow up and have to work, right?” Max asks with a laugh.

“So true, Mr. Smith.” Susan responds, “I’ve placed the updated client files on your desk.”

“Thanks, Susan.” Max says, then asks, “Is John in yet?”

Being one of the bosses means regularly checking in on everyone while also juggling several tasks. That is how this little company and the family within have weathered several storms in its almost 23 years of business. Macro goals, micro care.

“Not yet.” Susan responds, “And I haven’t been able to get a hold of him on the phone either.”

“Lines might be busy.” Max says, then asks, “Anything urgent this-”

“OH MY GOD!” A woman shouts in her corner office that shares a wall Max’s, interrupting Max.

Max and Susan turn to Yuki Smith’s office whose door is open. She is a cofounder of the firm.

“Honey?” Max asks as he speed walks into his wife’s, the chief Interior Designer, open office.

“The news!” Yuki says staring at the TV, “They’re saying there were bombs at the military base!”

Max follows his partner’s eyes to the screen. The breaking news reel reads “Explosions at Naval Air Station Key West. One casualty confirmed. Base is on lockdown. Situation ongoing.”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“Oh no.” Max says, “I’m sure Alena is already in school by now.”

“They said the explosions happened ten minutes ago.” Yuki says.

“Then let’s call her and put our minds at ease, alright?” Max says as he embraces his wife.

Max pulls out his iPhone, unlocks it and goes to his contacts. Alena’s name is right on top as “Irina”. He hits the dial on her number and puts the call on speaker. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing.

9.22 am, Smith’s Housing Design and Engineering Consultation Key West 

***

“Radio check, over.” A voice says through the radio.

The communication is finally back. Master Sergeant Avery McGuinness of the Military Police (MP) is standing at attention in front of a captured combatant. The tied up man is the only hostile captured alive during the base attack. The rest were all killed by an unknown CIA asset.

‘I didn’t even bust some heads.’ McGuinness thinks in his head.

Standing beside McGuinness is a US Marine. McGuinness had driven up with 3 Marines but two had driven a wounded CIA analyst to the base clinic. The rest of the CIA officers stand around. The ongoing order was to sit tight in front of the burning air hangar known as Blazes.

‘I need to be helping not just standing around.’ McGuinness thinks to himself.

“Can you believe we missed the action?” The nearby Marine asks.

“And we are missing the cleanup operation-” Sergeant McGuiness says.

“Sergeant McGuinness, come in. Over.” The radio on McGuinness suddenly beeps, interrupting.

“This is McGuinness. Over.” Sergeant McGuinness responds.

“This is Captain Keyes.” The voice on the radio says, “The Marines are assuming operational control of the base clinic basement and the northern docks. Pull back your men. Over and out.”

“Yes, Sir. Over!” Sergeant McGuinness responds.

McGuinness looks around to find that the Marine is also in radio chatter with their own superior. Looks like he will have to save conversation for later. Right now, he has other duties to look forward to. McGuinness gives a salute to the lone Marine, who salutes back.

This order finally releases McGuinness to do something useful. As McGuinness begins his 15-minute jog back to the hub of activity at the base, he considers his options. He decides to check in at the clinic first, in case they need blood donors. On his way there, he will help wherever he can. Bombs have a way of causing bloody bodies with a lot of blood loss.

‘Lives to be saved.’ McGuinness says as his feet carry him away.

1005, Naval Air Station Key West

***

Captain Keyes had received the most unexpected call. It came from his Commander-in-Chief, the President of the United States. After confirming the situation was under control and offering whatever assistance Captain Keyes could ask for, the President proceeded to respectfully order him to surrender operational control of the base clinic’s basement and the CIA’s gray site to the US Marines. She couldn’t give much detail except it was for National Security.

Captain Keyes had proceeded to follow that order, calling team leaders in the field and telling them to step aside for the US Marines. All the while, Keyes ended with two conclusions. The unusual order meant this crisis was a National Security threat at the highest levels. It also meant his base personnel were not trusted enough to handle it meaning that his people were suspects.

Well, Captain Keyes is too busy at the moment with many fires to worry over a strange order. The actual fires have been put out and the overall situation is under control but the aftermath remains. Captain Keyes is catching up on a ton of reports at once since the communications came back online just as mysteriously as it had been jammed shut. As C.O., Captain Keyes has to sort through and prioritize the reports then give the necessary orders to solve situations.

Captain Keyes has already greenlit 2 helicopters to take off for the hospital, which was on another island, with the more severe cases the base clinic could not handle. There are a lot of wounded, some critical, who can’t wait for the roads to be operational again for medical treatment. Unfortunately, there is already one person who can’t be assisted.

Her name was Alena Smith. Captain Keyes is reading over the report detailing the discovery of the janitor’s body. After the discovery of her corpse, MPs opted to move her out because the underground space was flooding. Lucky that they did because a new report shows the entire area is submerged, washing away investigative leads. But at least, this brave young woman will get a proper burial. Surprisingly, or fortunately, no other casualties have been reported. Yet.

“Even though she wasn't yet in the Navy, she still served.” Captain Keyes says with a sigh.

Captain Keyes had found out that the young lady had applied to work at the base pending her graduation from college. Now, that future path is closed and her bright light is dimmed forever.

“I’ll contact her folks myself.” Captain Keyes says, “I hope hers are the only ones I have to call.”

On the line listing Alena’s emergency contact it reads, “Max Smith, Father”.

1010, Naval Air Station Key West

***

Colonel Miranda Sheppard is following General Beggingson’s order by going about and reassigning her available Marines to secure the main floor of the base’s clinic while not impeding medical operations. Especially with the cleanup operations underway.

The fires are at long out but the smoke still hangs in the air, bathing the base in a warzone haze. Except, they don’t know who hit them. And, with a National Security gag order, they might never find out. The dead and their bereaved might never have an answer to why they had to die today.

“Sheppard, do you read? Over.” Colonel Sheppard’s radio beeps, interrupting her thoughts.

“This is Sheppard. I read you. Over.” Colonel Sheppard responds.

“This is General Beggingson. I’m ready for pick up. Over.” The voice over the radio responds.

“On my way, Sir. Over and out.” Colonel Sheppard responds. 

Colonel Sheppard hops into the nearby jeep. She kicks the ignition and drives to the base clinic. 3 minutes later, she spots General Beggingson by the front doors. She stops in front of him.

“What’s our sitrep?” General Beggingson asks as he climbs into the jeep and shuts the door.

“MPs handed over control of the clinic basement and the CIA site.” Colonel Sheppard reports

“Smooth.” General Beggingson says, “Take me to the Command Center.”

“Sir.” Colonel Sheppard says and away she drives.

“After you drop me off, I need you to pick up some things. Breakfast and clothes for a dozen.” General Beggingson says, “Deliver it to the clinic basement. Handle it directly.”

“On the military card?” Colonel Sheppard asks.

“On my personal card.” General Beggingson says, “Make it a good breakfast. As for clothes, a dozen dress shirts and pants with sizes between small and large. Use your fashion sense.”

“Yes, sir.” Colonel Sheppard says as she stops the car at the Command Center entrance.

“Will that be all, sir?” Colonel Sheppard asks as General Beggingson steps out.

“Pick me up at 1050.” General Beggingson says as he closes the door.

“Will do.” Colonel Sheppard says to the departing General Beggingson.

Col. Sheppard looks overhead at the helicopters soaring through a cloudless September sky.

1020, Naval Air Station Key West