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Authors: Lloyd Tackitt

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Before Race could answer an old school bus pulled up to the gate.

Chapter 12

R
ace took the girls to
the far side of the bus, followed by the female officer, a Lieutenant—equivalent to an Army Captain. The pat down would take place out of sight of the men in the area. She had a friendly demeanor towards the girls and they didn’t seem to be intimidated.

Eventually Race and the female officer, followed by the girls, came out from behind the bus. The Lieutenant approached Adrian and Eric, shaking her head a bit, “Every single one of those girls had a concealed knife on them. Even the youngest. From the way they talked, they have a solid understanding of how to use them, too; they say you’ve been training them every day.” She handed a bag of knives to Eric.

Adrian said, “That’s right, I have. Believe me when I tell you they definitely
do
know how to use them effectively.”

“Isn’t that a bit extreme?” Eric asked. The Lieutenant nodded in agreement with the question.

“Not a bit.” Adrian replied. “If you knew the full history of these girls, what they’ve been up against and what they may come up against in the future, you’d probably agree with me. But agree or disagree, it’s the right thing for them to know. It’s the right thing for them to have that skill and that tool. I am as pleased as I can be that they have the knives and the skill to use them.”

The female officer stuck her hand out to shake. “I’m Lieutenant Jenkins,” she said.

“Pleased to meet you Lieutenant.” Adrian replied while shaking hands. “We’ve come a long way to get here, is there any chance these ladies can get a shower and clean their clothes on the ship? Maybe get a health exam by the ship’s doctor while we’re here? Also I need to stable my horse somewhere.”

“Absolutely. I’ll see to the girls myself and make sure your horse is properly tended to. Let’s board the bus; the Admiral seems impatient to meet you.”

Adrian turned to Eric, “Can I see you for a moment in private first?”

Behind the bus, Adrian removed his own knife and handed it to Eric. “Put this in the bag. You forgot to pat me down, and I don’t want the Captain to know you missed it.”

Eric took the knife with obvious signs of embarrassment. “Thank you sir. That would have been a mark against me.” He placed it in the bag of knives he was carrying and they got on the bus. The girls followed quickly.

During this time the girls had been staring at the carrier in awe. The ship was impossibly huge and strikingly beautiful. Old-time mariners were blown away by it, young girls that had never seen any ship before were simply stunned.

The closer they got to the ship the larger it loomed, until when the bus stopped at the dock it became impossible to see its full length and breadth. It blocked most of the sky and seemed to go on forever in all directions.

From the bus they loaded onto a tender boat and quickly motored the short distance to the carrier, then climbed a series of metal stairs that were attached to the side of the ship. Bear had a little trouble at first, but soon got the rhythm of it. They stopped at the top of the stairs

“Permission to board?” Eric asked the guard in a formal tone.

The guard replied, just as formally “Permission granted.”

As they stepped onto the ship, a long, three-tone whistle rang out. “Admiral On Deck” someone shouted and everyone came to attention; even the girls sensed the requirement of the moment, and stood straighter.

“As you were!” The Admiral said in a normal tone of voice that still seemed to boom around the entire ship’s immense inner deck. Everyone returned to their duties immediately, albeit doing those duties a bit sharper than before. The Admiral was a trim man in his sixties with gray hair cut short. He was six feet tall and moved with barely contained energy.

“Mr. Hunter! I’ve been waiting to see you ever since I heard you were coming to visit! Ladies!” he said, bowing to the group of girls with a smile, “I’ve been on tenterhooks waiting to meet you as well. We have prepared a late breakfast for all of you in the Officer’s Dining Room, please, follow me.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned smartly and led the way. If the ship had seemed huge before, it seemed even larger as they walked past several F-16 fighter jets, then wound their way up and down stairs and in and out of passageways like a maze. It took ten minutes to reach the dining room, where they found plates laid out and platters of food scattered around the table.

“I’m afraid that all we can offer is sea food. It’s good fare, but can become monotonous after a few months.” the Admiral said with a smile to the girls. “Please sit where you like and eat as much as you want. Water is all we have to drink, but it’s purified and will wash the food down adequately. Come, come, sit down ladies, don’t be shy. Lieutenant Jenkins, you’ll be in charge of the girls for the time being, sit and eat with us. Ensign you may return to your post now. Thank you for bringing them along so quickly. Now, let’s dig in!”

The girls had been eating pork and canned vegetables for years and were happy to eat something different. Adrian agreed with them, the seafood was outstanding, a really great change of pace. When the girls finally started showing signs of getting full, the Admiral said, “Ladies may I borrow Mr. Hunter for a few hours? While he’s gone would you like a tour of the ship?”

Adrian replied for the girls, “Admiral, I am sure they would love a tour, but I’m thinking they might enjoy a long hot shower and a chance to wash their clothes even more, if that’s okay?”

The Admiral saw the delight on the girls’ faces and, smiling broadly, said, “Of course! I should have thought of that first thing.”

“After that” Adrian said, “Would it be possible for the ship’s doctor to give each of the girls a health exam? I don’t think any of them are ill, but they won’t get this opportunity often and…well…I just want what’s best for them.”

“Certainly! Another splendid idea sir. Lieutenant, would you make the arrangements? Then a tour if they so please and let’s all meet back here for dinner, 1900 hours, yes?”

“Adrian it is then.” the Admiral responded to Adrian’s request. They were seated in a pair of comfortable arm chairs in the Admiral’s quarters. “Please call me Jim in private, but please do continue with ‘Admiral’ in front of my crew.”

At that moment there was a knock at the door, and a sailor brought in a tray with a thermos of coffee and two cups.

“I apologize for not having sugar or cream, but what little we have is needed for higher purposes. This coffee is a rare treat in itself; we have almost none left and only bring it out on special occasions. This, my friend, is a special occasion. There are damn few heroes that come to visit.”

Adrian started to protest, but was quickly cut off.

“Hero you are sir, most definitely,” insisted the Admiral. “The entire country is talking about your exploits and if they are only half true you are still a most singular hero and apparently a modest one to boot. Even if I hadn’t thought so before, your rescue of those young ladies would put you firmly in that category without assistance. Please, tell me their background, their story.”

Adrian started at the beginning, then filled in details of their journey and training. The Admiral asked only a few questions, nodding often, smiling once or twice, frowning only when Adrian described how Race had killed the trader they got the truck from.

Adrian concluded, “Admiral, those girls were forced into prostitution. It would be better for them if that was kept silent. If they want to tell anyone about it, that’s up to them. I’m requesting your confidentiality on that.”

“No need to have asked, that’s a given.” The Admiral replied. “What an amazing story. Now, I’m intrigued to know what your future plans are for them?”

Adrian grew visibly uncomfortable at the question. “That’s the rub, sir. I have to leave them here in Corpus Christi for a few weeks, maybe even a few months. I’m going on a scout into south Texas, then up to San Antonio and Austin. After that I’ll swing back and check on the girls, and if they want I’ll take them back to Fort Brazos. I hate to leave them, but I can’t take them on a long journey like that, not knowing what’s out there or how bad it might get.”

The Admiral took a sip of coffee, then putting down his empty cup said, “That’s pretty much what I thought you’d say and I approve. As a matter of fact it fits in neatly with plans of my own, plans that I hope to include you in. I’ll make it a special project of the Navy to oversee the girls’ safety and health while you’re gone.”

“Plan sir?” Adrian wasn’t comfortable using the Admiral’s first name, no matter how sincere the request.
This is a man in charge of thousands, a bona-fide member of the United States military. He commands a huge aircraft carrier and is no doubt fleet commander of many more ships as well. First name doesn’t feel right.
“What plan would that be Admiral?”

“I’ll have to give you some background so you’ll understand. Navy ships are built to withstand EMP blasts. They’re hardened against it, so much of the Navy’s fleet was intact and operational after the solar storm. All of our battle fleet of ships are nuclear fueled so we weren’t adrift. Nevertheless, after the solar storm, we eventually lost communications with the political authorities. The military as you know is commanded by the President of the United States. We could talk to him for a few months, but then we lost contact with him as well.”

“Our first major response was to sail to our foreign ports and pick up as many overseas military men and women and their families as we could, and bring them on board. This was a difficult undertaking with our limited communications and took us nearly two years to complete. We picked up about fifty-percent of the troops out there. I hate that we couldn’t get them all, but we couldn’t. Once we completed that mission then we had to consider what to do next. With no orders coming from the President we convened a council, by encrypted radio, and determined our next move. This is confidential information by the way, not to be shared with anyone.”

“Of course,” replied Adrian.

The Admiral continued. “After several weeks of deliberation, we decided to split the nuclear carrier force, sending each carrier and a contingent of nuclear submarines to a separate U.S. port refinery, along with an equal distribution of all other operational ships. My group came here. Our plan, such as it is, is to fire up the refineries and make fuel. We need fuel for our own purposes—even nuclear fuel rods will only last so long without replacements, and many Navy ships are diesel-fueled, as are most fishing trawlers. We are hoping that soon we can make surplus fuel to be distributed to the civilian world to help them restart civilization.”

“You must realize that each passing year our ships degrade and need maintenance, but maintenance at the level we need is no longer available. We can keep going for a few more years, but eventually each ship will reach a point of inoperability and have to be abandoned. Civilization and industry need to be restarted and fast.”

Adrian nodded in silence, sipping at his coffee as the Admiral continued.

“Getting crude oil is the biggest challenge at the moment. We’re drawing crude from the U.S. oil reserves, but that will be depleted within a year. We’re also in the process of restarting off-shore oil platforms and getting that crude to the refineries. It’s a challenge we can handle though, and within a few more months supply will no longer be an issue. We’ll have surplus crude and might then be able to start up other refineries. With enough fuel to bootstrap us up, we can generate electricity conventionally and carry on with the refineries.”

Adrian interrupted with a question. “What’s the long-term plan for the Navy if the original U.S. government doesn’t start up again—and I don’t see how it can.”

“Well now, that’s a damn good question and the chief question we’re still coming to terms with. We’ve ruled out starting a government ourselves. Our naval historians tell us that a military-formed government will eventually become a dictatorship. Eventually they always turn into tyrannies of one kind or another. We don’t want that. Currently our thinking is that we will maintain security for the nation as best we can, provide what support we can, and hope that a strong civil government emerges from the ashes. If that government is one based on personal liberty, then we will subsume to their authority. Until then, there isn’t much we can do except make fuel and catch fish.”

“Our ability to protect our former nation is limited. A developing security threat may be on the horizon, but it will come by land, probably from Mexico. And that’s where you come in, if you choose to.”

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