Alex braced herself against the snow and wind. A maelstrom of white first clouded and then hid the Osprey as the aircraft ascended from the roof of the Topeka Medical Center. She turned and shielded her eyes to avoid the icy shards beating against her uniform. As the roar lessened and then mixed with the howling wind, she looked up to see the aircraft had vanished.
The white haze blew away in the wind. She stood near the edge of the roof. A dim and flickering lamp highlighted the stairwell leading into the building. Beyond the railings and far below, fuzzy headlights moved about in the streets. Diesel generators whirred over the wind. Each breath summoned a misty vapor that rose and fled with the breeze.
The stairwell door squealed open. Alex turned toward the approaching footsteps. A thin, almost childlike figure resolved against the lamp’s faint glow. “What the heck are you waiting for, Bedford? I’m going to catch hell if I bring you in with frostbite!”
The figure pulled back the hood of her winter jacket. “Nicole?” Alex said.
“You know how to arrive in style. You’ve got your own bird, now?”
Nicole Serrano smiled and embraced Alex. A bolt-action sniper rifle hung over her back. The weapon was almost as long muzzle-to-stock as Nicole was tall. She was a year younger than Alex although her tiny profile made the age gap seem much wider. The top of her head reached to just below Alex’s neck. Her wiry limbs possessed an obvious strength that belied her physique. Despite the dim light, Nicole’s eyes stood out, the left bright amber and the right emerald green.
Nicole’s smile became a frown as she stepped back and studied Alex. “Since when did you turn anorexic?”
Alex shook her head. “It’s not—”
“Let’s get inside. Come on.”
Nicole put her arm around Alex and guided her into the stairwell. Another flickering lamp hung from the ceiling. Nicole closed the door, and they stood together as the room blinked between light and dark.
“What are you doing here?” Alex said.
“Harrison pulled me out of Salt Lake City as soon as the NEA hit Kansas. I got here two hours ago. I thought I’d actually get to do something exciting after lying around in a ghillie suit for the past month. Guess I showed up late.”
Alex didn’t respond.
“But hey, at least you made it out.” Nicole patted Alex on the back. “Maybe we’ll still have a chance for some fun together. Anyway, Harrison’s waiting.”
They went down the first flight of stairs and through the door on the next landing. The floor was abandoned and dark. The only illumination came from a dim row of fluorescent lights above a bank of elevators. Yellow construction tape emblazoned with the words CAUTION and OUT OF ORDER blocked three of the four elevators. Nicole pressed the call button as soon as they arrived.
An electronic ding sounded, and the doors of the fourth elevator slid apart. Inside, Nicole pressed the button for the first floor. Alex went to the corner and leaned against the polished silver walls. The air was heavy and warm. She was about to close her eyes when Nicole said, “Mind if I ask you something?”
She’s going to ask about what happened in Kansas City. And what am I supposed to say?
“No one here really knows what’s up. I don’t think even Harrison has any idea. I heard Kansas City’s gone but no one knows what happened. You were right in the middle of it, weren’t you?”
Alex nodded.
“So what happened?”
If only someone else could answer. During the flight from the Reagan to Topeka, she had struggled with how much to reveal about her involvement in the destruction of Kansas City. She trusted Lunde enough to tell him the truth but he was far away in Peterson’s hospital. And there was Shepherd. After what she had done to him on the overpass, he deserved to know everything. But what should she tell everyone else?
What will happen if they find out? What will they do if they know I killed all those people?
Nicole looked curious and concerned. “If you’re not supposed to talk about it, I understand. Wouldn’t want you spilling classified info. Although, my clearance is higher than yours, so…”
“I’m just… I don’t know. I don’t know what happened.”
“You didn’t see anything?”
“We were on an overpass. There was a loud noise. An explosion I think. It knocked me out. That’s all.”
“I heard you lost a few people,” Nicole said. “Too bad about that one kid – your marksman.”
“Park,” Alex said, softly, and with his name he was again bleeding out on the sidewalk, holding her hand, asking her to deliver a message to his father. In New York, he had embraced her after Hensley’s death. She could almost feel him holding her tight like a scared boy holding onto his mother. Now he was gone.
“He’s the only one who ever came close to me in the shooting competitions at Carson. I always told him to drop that stupid fish and pick up a bolt-action but he never listened.”
Alex wondered if the Directorate had been able to pull the bodies of Park, Williams, and Fletcher from Kansas City. She thought it unlikely.
“Well, like I said, at least you made it out all right. I wouldn’t want to be the Directorate’s only competent ‘kinetic.”
The elevator arrived on the first floor where Doctors and nurses hurried between rooms and stations and soldiers lay bloodied and bandaged on beds against the walls of the corridor.
Nicole guided Alex to the lobby and then outside, back into the snow. Parking lots filled to overflowing with rows of tents and stacked shipping containers surrounded the hospital. Camouflaged vans and RVs, the mobile command centers serving as the brains of the Topeka outpost, sat interspersed across the area, highlighted by bright construction lights and soldiers hurrying about nearby. A double row of chain-link fences enclosed the hospital and the adjacent lots. Beyond that were old civilian buildings converted into barracks and motor pools. A final, heavier perimeter separated the outpost from the rest of Topeka. The city itself supported a sizable population although nowhere near as large as Colorado Springs. The Directorate had established the Topeka outpost as a staging ground for the reclamation of Kansas City. And now Kansas City is gone. Because of me.
They followed the sidewalk toward one of the busier lots. Humvees, Strykers, and main battle tanks rolled through the streets, leaving behind deep cuts in the packed snow. Soldiers stood huddled together for warmth, their expressions worried and upset, their discussions about Kansas City, about friends in the hospital, and about those missing in action.
They passed a row of shipping containers adjacent to the sidewalk. The doors opened toward the street, revealing pallets of MRE boxes inside. A supply truck idled along the road. Dozens more boxes of MREs filled the back. Four men dressed in ragged jeans and windbreakers formed a makeshift assembly line moving boxes from the container to the waiting vehicle. The men looked like civilians, unshaven and tired. Two armed soldiers stood nearby, watching the workers.
“Who are those people?” Alex said once they passed out of hearing distance.
“The labor pool,” Nicole said.
“Why the guns?”
“We’re sure as hell not letting convicts wander around unsupervised.”
After they had walked in silence for a few minutes, Alex said, “Do you know if my team is still here?”
“Sure,” Nicole said and then grinned. “I saw your boyfriend at HQ about an hour ago.”
Alex blushed as Nicole gave her a knowing smile.
“Did he look all right when you saw him?”
“He had a big bandage over his cheek. Do you know what happened?”
“No.” Already it felt easier to lie about what she had done, to claim ignorance instead of taking responsibility. Yet that could only last for so long. The members of her team, Shepherd most of all, had to know she was responsible for the slaughter; they had been right beside her on the overpass. She would have to face them soon.
Will they even want me on the team anymore? Should I be on the team anymore?
“Hey,” Nicole’s voice took on a serious tone. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
Alex nodded.
“I wish I had been there.” Nicole reached back and patted the barrel of her rifle. “I would have put a bullet right into that guy’s skull.”
“I had him right in my sights but I only hit him in the shoulder.”
“You never have been a good shot. Is it true what they say about him? I heard he didn’t have any eyes.”
Alex shook her head, recalling the horrible yellow lights that had stared at her from Webb’s otherwise empty sockets. “He had eyes. They were just… like worms with lights at the end.”
“Gross. And I thought these were bad.” Nicole gestured at her own amber and green irises.
Alex placed her hands in her pockets and felt the folded letter and the case containing the polished silver stars. “What do you think of Colonel Harrison?”
Nicole smirked. “He’s kind of a prick. But he knows what he’s doing.”
“Do you think he’s a good leader?”
“Your dad must have thought so or else Harrison wouldn’t be third-in-command.”
Alex took the case from her pocket and handed it to Nicole, who opened it and looked inside. “Well, I always wanted to be a general.”
“I’m supposed to give those to Colonel Harrison. The Committee wants him to take over.”
“I’ll bet he already keeps a set under his pillow,” Nicole said. “What about General Lunde?”
“The Committee doesn’t think he should be in command.”
“General Lunde is a great people person, but he’s not exactly the right guy to lead a war.”
“So you think Colonel Harrison should be in command?”
“I think we need someone who’s willing to kick ass,” Nicole said and handed the case back.
Alex thought back to the command center at Peterson. Harrison had called on Lunde to deploy the Valkyrie. The strategic bomber was supposed to be the ultimate deterrent against any enemy of the Directorate, but as far as she knew, it had always been a propaganda symbol more than anything else. Would Harrison actually launch it? Would he go that far?
“What if that means nuclear war?” Alex said.
“If that’s what it takes.”
They arrived at a T-intersection where the main street surrounding the Topeka Medical Center met with a road leading out of the cantonment through a series of checkpoints. Rows of chain-link fences encompassed the hospital and the adjacent lots. Here, though, the perimeter looked different; brilliant spotlights lit the fences and spools of razor wire. Guard towers hosting soldiers with scoped rifles stood every few hundred feet. Wooden barracks buildings lay beyond the fences at the edge of the snowy haze. The area past the checkpoints seemed to be its own small cantonment, completely enclosed like a prison.
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Alex squinted toward movement along the far side of the fences. Figures paced back and forth in the snow. A cargo truck with an exposed rear bed idled near the gate. Men and women sitting crammed into the back climbed off one-by-one and trudged toward the barracks. They were not military, but civilians. Four soldiers hurried the men and women out of the truck.
A commotion sounded from the gate. One of the civilians rushed toward the soldiers, grappled the nearest guard, and knocked him to the ground. Brilliant lights from the watchtowers converged on the disturbance. A man vaulted from the back of the truck and sprinted out the gate, following the road straight toward Alex and Nicole. His jacket hood obscured his face. The man struggling with the guard received a kick to his head from another soldier. He rolled off. The other guards began beating him with their rifles. The other man kept running, somehow maintaining his footing on the packed snow and ice. The guard closest to the gate raised his weapon but then lowered it when he noticed Alex and Nicole in his line of fire.
“Stop him!” he shouted.
As the fleeing man approached, he seemed to notice Alex and Nicole for the first time. His pace slowed, and he looked to his left and right, then behind. His hood had blown back in the wind, revealing the desperation in his eyes.
Nicole drew her handgun. “I dare you to keep running! Please!”
The weapon kept perfectly still despite its weight, the wind, and the cold.
The man stopped and stood unmoving and silent. Behind him, two of the soldiers raced from the gate while the remaining pair kept their weapons trained on the rest of the men and women. The man sat down in the middle of the road and then crossed his arms over his knees and buried his face in them. Alex wondered if he was crying.
The soldiers arrived a moment later. The first guard grabbed the man by the collar of his jacket, picked him up, and shoved him face-first into the ice. He planted his knee in the man’s back and zip-tied his hands together at the wrists. Then he hauled the man up again and began to drag him toward the gate. The second guard approached Nicole. He gave her and Alex a curious look.
“You might keep the gate closed next time, Sergeant,” Nicole said.
“Yes… ma’am?” the guard said.
Alex gestured at the gate and the barracks beyond. “What is this place?”
“Work camp. I’m sorry about that. We’ve been getting trucks in and out the last few hours. I guess we got a bit sloppy. We’re trying to move as many of them as possible from the main camp into this cantonment.”
“Why?”
“The NEA. If they try to hit us, they’ll hit the east camp first. We’re trying to get them all centralized, preserve as many of them as possible. It’ll make transportation easier. I hear we might move them over to Carson.”
“Well, carry on,” Nicole said. “I do have a suggestion, though.”
“Yes, ma’am?” The guard seemed to brace himself.
“Shoot one of them every once in a while. It’ll keep them in their place.”
The guard stared at her and then laughed nervously. He hesitated, raising his hand slightly as if about to salute, but then he turned and hurried off toward the gate. Once he was gone, Nicole snickered. “Too bad that guy didn’t keep running.”
Alex kept silent, feeling, she thought, as the guard must have: hoping Nicole was joking but suspecting otherwise. Nicole started off again, and Alex moved to follow. She glanced back at the gate several times, watching as the guards finished unloading the workers and the truck backed away, sped off, and another truck just as full as the first arrived to take its place. This time, the guards closed the gate.
What kind of work camp would be right here in the middle of the outpost? And why did that man try to run? Are all of them prisoners? Criminals?
They soon crossed over into one of the parking lots surrounding the hospital. Parked Humvees, military tents, and a wheeled mobile command center occupied the lot. The vehicle resembled a semi-truck and trailer with cargo that could have been mistaken for a freight container if not for the access door and the suite of aerials extending from the roof. An antenna tower stood nearby. Tension cables and reinforced metal girders allowed the tower to rise high above the outpost. Soldiers shuffled about between the tents and shipping containers, which formed a rough circle with the command trailer in the middle.
Alex followed Nicole to the stepladder leading up to the trailer’s door. Nicole started upward and then turned and looked past Alex with an amused expression. A figure wrapped in cold weather gear approached from the edge of the lot. Despite the shadows, Alex recognized his shape and movements.
Alex hurried toward Shepherd but as he came into the light, she froze. A bloody bandage covered the left side of his face from his cheekbone down to his jawline.
“Captain,” Nicole said from behind Alex. “I found your lost sheep.”
Shepherd stopped several feet away. “Ma’am,” he said, acknowledging Nicole. Alex often forgot that her friend was the equivalent of a major. Shepherd continued, “May I speak to her?”
Nicole chuckled. “Fine by me. Just remember, Harrison is waiting.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Nicole opened the door to the command trailer and went inside.
Shepherd stood looking into Alex’s eyes. She stared at the bandage. The memories from the overpass returned: Shepherd’s screams and the smell of his flesh boiling. She remembered him sitting with her in the medical center, comforting her only hours before their departure to Kansas City.
“Been a hell of a week.” Shepherd smiled but the expression was forced. Alex saw something in his eyes, worry or uncertainty, not a look she was not used to seeing. “How do you feel?”
How did she look to him right now? A walking skeleton encased in combat armor and burdened with the weapons and equipment she had hauled from the Osprey. Physically, she felt weak and tired even with the cold keeping her alert. Beyond that were the memories of Kansas City, the screams of men as their bodies tore apart. Those memories were a weight far heavier than her ballistic vest and helmet and assault pack. Yet the absent memories bothered her the most. There was nothing of the deaths of the Directorate’s soldiers, nothing of the destruction of the city. It wasn’t you, she wanted to shout at herself. You didn’t kill your own people. It was Webb, or someone else. It was the NEA, not you. But what she had done was right in front of her, visible along the edges of the blood-spotted bandage on Shepherd’s cheek.
“Alex?”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Shepherd reached toward his cheek but then paused and let his arm fall back. He let out a long breath, which temporarily obscured his face. Again, he gave her the forced smile. “I’ve always heard women like scars.”
Part of her wanted to sit on the trailer’s steps and cry, but she realized they were not alone. There were other soldiers around, men and women who were busy at work but who would certainly turn and look if she were to let out the sobs she had suppressed since Kansas City, since the deaths of Park and Williams and Fletcher. She was General Henry Bedford daughter. She couldn’t break down in the middle of a Directorate outpost. She closed the gap with Shepherd and embraced him.
Shepherd tensed but then put his arms around her. The embrace felt awkward with her ballistic vest pressed between them, but she didn’t care. She felt steady for the first time since landing in Topeka. After a few moments, they stepped apart.
“I’m glad you’re all right,” Shepherd said.
“You, too.”
“Do you remember anything? From Kansas City. Before…”
“The overpass. I remember what I did to you and… to the NEA. But that’s all.”
Shepherd nodded.
“The Committee said I killed our own soldiers. Did I?”
“I don’t know,” Shepherd said, uncertainly. “We should head in.”
She gave a weak nod and followed him into the command trailer. The interior’s warm gave a pleasant relief from the outside air. Computer terminals lined the walls, and officers staring at their screens or sorting through reams of printed graphics and reports staffed each station. Widescreen monitors hanging from the ceiling displayed topographical, street, and satellite images of Kansas City and the surrounding area. Each map possessed markings designating the locations of the Directorate’s and the New England Alliance’s forces. The NEA outnumbered the Directorate at least two or three to one. As far as she could tell, neither side was attempting to advance across the ruins of Kansas City. Instead, each force had formed defensive perimeters around their respective staging areas.
“Ms. Bedford!” Colonel Alan Harrison called out. She spotted him immediately. Harrison was easily the tallest person in the room. He had been a Special Tactics officer with the United States Air Force before the outbreaks. It was something that even now, sixteen years later, still gave him a certain prestige. Since that time, he had maintained a dominating build. The muscles of his arms were obvious beneath to folds of his uniform. His skin was darkly tanned, almost brown, and his black hair was just beginning to grey around his ears. Her father had once remarked that Harrison had more seen more ground combat than the whole of the Directorate’s general staff.
But that didn’t stop him running from Kansas City.
“Hey.” Alex heard Nicole’s voice and felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked back and saw her friend standing behind her. “I’m out of here. I’ll try to catch you later tonight unless you have plans.” Nicole gestured toward Shepherd, who was waiting next to the door, and then grinned.
Alex stared at Nicole for a moment and then hurriedly shook her head.
“Well, then,” Nicole said. “See you later.”
Nicole went to the door, smiled at Shepherd, and then left the trailer. Alex turned back toward Harrison and saw him watching her impatiently. When she reached him, he withdrew a keycard from his pocket and then slid the card through a reader next to the door marked with his name. He opened the door and gestured for her to go through. Once they were inside, he shut the door and walked to a computer terminal. The screen displayed the spinning emblem of the Directorate. Harrison typed a string of commands and adjusted a spherical camera above the monitor. To Alex’s surprise, General Lunde’s face appeared, looking more tired and worn than she could remember having seen him at any time since the start of the war.
“General, I have Ms. Bedford here,” Harrison said facing the screen.
“Thank you, Colonel,” Lunde said. “I apologize for being such a nuisance. You’ll be glad to hear that I received an update from General Park. Reinforcements will start arriving at Topeka by 0700.”
“Thank you for the update, sir.”
“Of course. Keep up the good work. All of our thoughts here in Colorado are with you. Now, I need to speak to Alexandra in private.”
“Yes, General,” Harrison said.
Alex caught annoyance on Harrison’s face as he turned and left the room. A metallic click came from the door as it locked.
“Alexandra?” Lunde said.
“I’m here,” she said and stepped in front of the terminal.
A smile broke out across Lunde’s exhausted features. He was alone, propped up in a hospital bed and wearing a white gown. He appeared to be looking into a laptop or camera sitting on a tray mounted to the bed rails. “I’m glad you’re safe,” Lunde said. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Lunde looked down at the bedsheets before taking a deep breath. “You spoke with the Committee?”
“The chairman. Randall Lewis.”
“I see. I’m not sure if Captain Shepherd has informed you, but you and the rest of the team will be returning to Peterson tomorrow afternoon.”
“Lewis said he was going to keep me away from the fighting.”
“Your team is on stand-down until further notice. We need to discuss what happened in Kansas City, but that will have to wait until we can speak face-to-face. In the meantime, is there anything that I can do for you, Alexandra? Will you be okay until tomorrow?”
“I’m fine, Gene, but…”
She reached into her pocket and withdrew the tiny velvet box containing the two polished silver brigadier’s stars. Is this the right thing? I could fight it. I could support Gene and not Harrison. But then Dad…
“Is something wrong?” Lunde examined the box in her hand. “What is that?”
“The Committee wants me to give it to Colonel Harrison.”
“What’s inside?”
She opened the box and turned the contents to face the camera. Lunde was silent for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. “I see.”
“The Committee said that they would help Dad. But they won’t do it unless I promise to cooperate. They want Colonel Harrison to take Dad’s spot. They want Dad to retire when he wakes up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Your father tried to protect you from the Committee and their agenda.”
“What should I do?”
“I don’t see much of a choice.”
She looked at the rank insignia. “I don’t have to tell Colonel Harrison. You should be in charge, not him. You have the Directorate’s support. Dad could wake up on his own.”
Lunde gave her a warm smile but then slowly shook his head. “I’m not fit for this. My performance during Kansas City made that clear. Do what you can for your father. Colonel Harrison isn’t a bad choice.”
“Are you sure?”
Lunde nodded.
“I’m sorry, Gene.”
“This isn’t your fault. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She frowned but then said, “Goodnight, General.”
“Goodnight, Alexandra.”
The transmission ended. She set the case aside and withdrew the creased and wrinkled letter from her pocket. There was a knock on the door and the sound of the lock disengaging. Harrison stepped into the room. “Are you finished?”
“Yes.”
“I need to have a discussion with you.”
Harrison waited, seeming to expect a response, but Alex kept silent. “Captain Shepherd and the members of your team haven’t been able to explain what happened in Kansas City. Perhaps you can shed some light.”
“I don’t know what happened.” She realized the officers in the trailer had shifted their attention toward her and Harrison, watching through the open door.
“You don’t know. You must know something.”
She couldn’t meet Harrison’s haze but said again, “I don’t know.”
Harrison moved closer. “I think you do know something. And whether you like it or not, you’re attached to a military unit. As such, you’ll answer me truthfully when I ask you a question.”
Outside the room, Shepherd pushed his way through the crowd and stopped at the door. “Sir, if I may—”
“Wait outside. Ms. Bedford and I are busy.”
“Sir, General Lunde has scheduled my team’s debriefing for tomorrow when we arrive back at Peterson. I don’t think he would appreciate if Alexandra was interrogated before he has a chance to sit down and speak with her himself.”
“This is not an interrogation. Two thousand of our men are dead! I need to know what happened in that damn city!”
“No one on my team is holding anything back. If we had any information, we would give it to you.”
“Our Executive Committee saw fit to evacuate Ms. Bedford without so much as notifying us. I don’t know about you, but I’m curious to know why.”
“Sir, she doesn’t—”
“Captain, you are dismissed. Get out or—”
“Colonel!” Alex said. Harrison looked at her with a surprised expression. Shepherd stared as well. “I have something for you.”
Harrison stared at the letter in her hand. She pointed at the desk and the velvet case. Harrison picked it up and opened it. “What is this?” Alex handed over the letter. Harrison tore it open and unfolded a single sheet of paper. He read it and then looked back at the case. “The Committee gave these to you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell General Lunde about this?”
She nodded.
“And… he supports the Committee’s decision?”
“Yes.”
Harrison folded the letter and placed it in his pocket. He ran his fingers gently over one of the silver stars. Alex pictured him in his immaculate dress blue uniform with the general’s ranks replacing the eagle on each of his epaulets. Would there be a formal ceremony once they all made it back to Colorado Springs?
“Captain,” Harrison said without looking up from the velvet case, “I expect you and your team to be at the landing field by 0630 tomorrow morning. Do try to keep your people together. I don’t need to deal with you losing track of General Bedford’s daughter a third time.”
“Yes, sir.”
Harrison closed the case and held it tight in his hand. Then he brushed past Shepherd and went to the other end of the trailer, where he stood with his arms crossed staring at a satellite view of the storm front covering much of the Midwest. Some of the officers sent nervous glances towards Harrison before returning to their work. The sounds of keystrokes and shuffling papers returned. Alex looked up at Shepherd, who nodded toward the exit. She followed him to the door and out into the cold.