Ex-Patriots (15 page)

“Yeah, I bet that was a bit of a shock.”

“Of course, we sent out a Predator to
investigate,” he continued. “It was a little more disturbing when
it stopped sending back telemetry and started pounding out ‘Radio
Nowhere’ by Bruce Springsteen.”

Barry cleared his throat. “Told you it’d be
memorable,” he said to St. George.

“That was you?” said Smith. “You’re Zzzap,
yes?”

“Yes.”

The suit pumped Barry’s hand three or four
times. “This is just such a great day. People are going to be going
crazy back at Yuma when we report in. I mean, we had some wild
hopes of what we might find out here in Los Angeles but...”

Smith stopped talking. Even the crowd sensed
it and grew quiet. He stared at Danielle, his mouth open.

After a moment she registered the silence and
raised her head to see what was going on. She glanced around,
shrunk when she saw everyone staring, and finally registered the
man in front of her. She blinked and opened her eyes wide.

“John?”

He lunged past the wheelchair and hugged her.
“We thought you were dead,” he said. “Everyone thought you died
years ago.”

She pulled away and stared at him with a look
that was half amazement, half anger.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “After all that’s
happened, you’re not going to say you’re glad to see me?”

Danielle smiled and bearhugged him back. “I
am glad to see you,” she said.

Barry inched his chair out of the way.
“Soooooo,” he said, “you two know each other?”

She released the man in the suit. “We... kind
of dated,” she said with a smile.

This time Smith pulled back to look at her
but also didn’t let go. “Dated? We were living together for six
months.”

She pulled him back. The embrace lasted for
another few moments and then his manic energy took over again.
“This is... This is unbelievable,” he said. “We got the news your
plane was diverting to Van Nuys and then no one ever heard anything
from your team again. Not to sound morbid but, well, we all assumed
you were dead and the battlesuit was a rusting statue
somewhere.”

“The suit’s fine,” she said. She turned her
head and pointed over at the scenery mill she’d converted to her
workshop. “It’s right over there. I’d be wearing it right now
but...” She shrugged. “You remember what it was like putting it
on.”

“The suit’s here?” He blinked. “And it still
works?”

“I built it to last.” She looked at the
others. “John was my first liaison with the DOD. We met while I was
building Cerberus.”

“I think most of us figured that out,” said
St. George.

“We need to get you back to Yuma,” said
Smith. He looked around. “All of you are welcome, of course.
Captain, can we arrange to get some kind of cargo transport out
here?”

Freedom glanced at Sergeant Monroe. The man
took a look around the Plaza lot and nodded. “Yes, sir,” the
captain said.

“One moment,” said Stealth.

Her voice cut across the festive mood. They
all paused. The cloaked woman had moved, taking a position between
Smith and the workshop.

“You are planning to take the Cerberus
suit?”

Smith shifted his gaze from Danielle to
Stealth. “Well, I just figured Dan... Doctor Morris would want to
come back with us,” he said. “We’ve got better facilities, machine
shops, and... well...” He looked at the redhead again. “You
know.”

“I do not,” said Stealth. “Cerberus is an
essential part of both our community and our defensive
measures.”

Danielle’s brow furrowed. “Are you telling me
I can’t leave?”

“I am saying—”

“Okay, let’s all stop for a second,” said St.
George. He could feel the icy glare Stealth gave him through her
mask. “Big day, a lot to take in, everyone’s a little
over-stimulated. Not to mention,” he tilted his head at the crowd,
“there’s a lot of people here who’ve been waiting for a day like
this for some time now.”

“I agree,” said Smith. “We can talk about all
this later. Captain Freedom, would your people like to say hello to
the crowd?”

“Yes, sir,” said the huge officer. He turned
to the soldiers. “Unbreakables,” he snapped, “dismissed.”

Their salutes shook the air. Then they moved
to the crowd, shaking hands and hugging strangers. Some even posed
for photos. St. George saw Billie Carter exchange salutes with one
and the two began to speak at length about something.

Danielle dropped her voice. “What the hell
are you talking about?” She looked at Smith. “Both of you, for that
matter.”

“We should discuss this matter in private,”
said Stealth. “It is not good for the civilians to see us argue
amongst ourselves.”

“We’re not arguing,” said St. George. “We’re
just talking.”

“I’m ready to argue,” said Danielle.

“Look,” said Smith, “I’m sorry if I spoke out
of turn. I just got excited. This is like winning the lottery three
times on the same day.”

“You were so excited to find us here,” said
Stealth, “yet your first response was an assault.”

“Standard operating procedure, ma’am,” said
Freedom. He loomed behind Smith and made the suited man look even
less like an adult. “In an unknown situation, when you hear
gunfire, your first duty is to protect your people and take control
of the situation. I’m sure you can understand.”

“So you attacked us,” said St. George.

“Because you resisted our attempt to control
the situation.”

“We resisted because you attacked us. Welcome
to the real—”

“This country is under martial law,” said
Freedom. “My authority here is absolute unless otherwise ordered by
Colonel Shelly or the President himself.”

There was a moment of silence. His words
reached some of the closer edges of the crowd and nervous whispers
began to work their way through the people gathered to see the
soldiers.

“Martial law?” said Danielle. She raised an
eyebrow.

Smith cleared his throat. “As of July 2009,
the country’s been under martial law. It still is. Nobody’s
thrilled by it, but the fact is the military’s in charge. As the
only known ranking officer in the American southwest, Colonel
Shelly is the man running things.”

Stealth shifted her stance again. “What are
you implying, Mr. Smith?”

“I’m not trying to imply anything,” he said.
“I just think we all need to be aware of where things stand, with
no confusion or illusions.”

“So the Mount is now under the Army’s
control?”

“Technically, unless you seceded from the
United States at some point in the past two years... yeah.”

“Which United States are you referring
to?”

The question froze Smith and Freedom. It
jarred the others, too. The man in the suit coughed once. “I... I’m
not sure I understand your question.”

Stealth crossed her arms. “Which states are
still united? California has not had a functioning state government
for twenty-two months now. There are no social services in effect.
No taxes levied or laws enforced. Its borders and lands are not
maintained. As a state, California has ceased to exist by any
possible definition. From our own limited reconnaissance, I can say
with some certainty it is not alone in this respect. Alaska.
Arizona. Florida. Hawaii. Massachusetts. Nevada. New York. Oregon.
Texas. Washington.” She paused for a moment, then added, “The
District of Columbia.”

Smith shifted his feet.

“So I ask,’ she continued, “which states are
still running and operating to the extent they can form a united
nation, one which you and these soldiers can represent?”

“Captain,” said Smith, “perhaps you could
field this one?”

“Ma’am,” said Freedom, “it’s good that you’re
reluctant to hand over everything you’ve saved. But let me assure
you, we are here as representatives of the government of the United
States. Our commanding officer is in regular contact with the
President, who is still in office in principle if not the actual
building. We represent one of dozens of military outposts which are
trying to re-establish local governments and provide services.”

“Why has it taken you two years to do
this?”

“Because, ma’am, believe it or not, you’re
not the only people who’ve taken heavy losses.”

Smith cleared his throat. “Can I just say one
more thing?”

St. George glanced between Stealth and Smith.
Stealth nodded.

“I can’t really speak for the Army,” the man
in the suit said, glancing over his shoulder at Freedom. “I’m a
loose liaison at best. But I can tell you this is going to be good
for you. We’ve got a lot to offer and I know the Army is going to
want to offer it. We’re here to help. We’re not going to take
everything you’ve got and leave you helpless like...” He shrugged
and gave a smile. “Well, if you’ll pardon me saying it, like the
military would in some bad zombie movie.”

Barry let out a loud cough and shot St.
George a look.

“If Doctor Morris decides to come out to Yuma
for a while,” Smith continued, “we’ll supplement your defenses with
troops, weapons, whatever you need that we can supply.”

Stealth still hadn’t moved. “What do you
propose?”

Something tugged at Danielle’s leg as Smith
replied. Barry gave her a look. She bent her head to his.
“What?”

“Seriously,” he said. “This guy?”

“What about him?”

“You and him? He looks like he’s barely out
of high school and he acts like Burke in
Aliens
.”

Her lips pulled into a faint smile. “It was
convenient, I guess,” she said. “We barely had anything in common,
and he put his job above everything else.”

“I’m old enough,” said Barry. “You can just
say it was for the sex.”

“Honestly, I don’t even remember the sex
being that great. We were together for a few months while I was
building the suit and then he moved out, left me with a drawer full
of shirts he didn’t want, and that was it.”

“He didn’t even show up to end it? Not even a
phone call?”

“Nope. We traded a few emails later. Guess we
both knew it wasn’t working.”

“Want me to blast him for you?”

She laughed. It was the first time Barry had
heard her laugh in months. The others glanced over and she waved
them off. “You know what’s the worst?” she whispered to Barry. “I
swore for ages I’d kick his ass the next time I saw him. Now it’s
just so damned great to see someone from... from before all of
this. Someone from the real world. Even if it’s him. Does that make
sense?”

The man in the chair nodded.

“I can have another Black Hawk out here
tomorrow,” Smith told St. George. “Two days, tops. It’ll take
Doctor Morris and the Cerberus suit, plus anyone else who wants to
come. You can meet Colonel Shelly, our CO, and we can all shake
hands and talk about what we can do for each other.” He looked at
Danielle. “We’ve got full machine shops out there and even some
manufacturing facilities. There’s no way you can tell me the suit
doesn’t need a full strip-down and cleaning.”

Stealth was a statue.

“Look,” said Smith, “they want to help. It’s
their job, remember? Protect American civilians. You’ve got nothing
to worry about.” He shrugged. “Do you want a tour of the Krypton
base first? I’m sure I could set something up.”

“That might not be a bad idea,” said St.
George with a glance at Stealth.

Smith nodded. “Okay. Do you want to do it
yourself or have somebody else go?” He looked at Barry. “Didn’t I
see on a television special or something that you can fly at the
speed of light? You could be there and back before lunch,
right?”

“I’m not that fast, but I could.”

Smith’s head bobbed again and he looked from
the heroes to Freedom. “So how’s this sound? We send the three
Apaches away so everyone feels a little more relaxed. We get
another Black Hawk out here tomorrow morning. While we’re getting
the Cerberus suit loaded and stowed, Zzzap flies out to Krypton,
looks around, gives a yes or no. If it’s a no, he’s back here to
say so before we’re even ready to leave. Does that work for
everyone?”

They all agreed. Even Stealth gave a slow nod
of her head. “I always wanted to fly to Krypton,” said Barry with a
smile.

“Great.” Smith turned back to the huge
officer. “Freedom, could you have someone report in and check on a
helicopter for tomorrow morning?”

Freedom turned and barked out an order to
Monroe. Monroe relayed it to someone else and a soldier broke from
the crowd and headed for the Black Hawk. When Freedom turned back,
Barry was in front of him.

“Have you ever thought of a shield?” Barry
mimed something circular on his arm. “Maybe in a patriotic color
scheme? It could really work for you.”

“If it helps,” said Danielle, “we ignore half
of what he says, too.”

Stealth had vanished. St. George realized she
was probably halfway back to her office by now. He wasn’t sure if
this was a good thing or a bad thing. When he saw her next time
he’d have to ask.

“This is amazing,” said Smith. The man had
moved to stand near St. George as they looked at the celebrating
crowds. “Sorry to sound like a broken record but it is. We’ve
checked so many places and if we found twenty or thirty survivors
it was a miracle.”

“I didn’t think we were special,” said the
hero. “I figured every city had a few thousand survivors holed up
somewhere.”

Smith shook his head. “I wish. Phoenix is a
ghost town, same with Scottsdale, Mesa, Tucson. We’ve never been
able to raise anyone at White Sands or Camp Pendleton.” He shook
his head again. “You must have every living person in southern
California here.”

“No,” said St. George. “There’s a group of
about two hundred people down in Beverly Hills. They’re what’s left
of a street gang called the South Seventeens. Real die-hards who
refused to join us here in the Mount.” He shrugged. “We check in on
them once a week or so, make sure they’re doing okay. And we still
find a few survivors here and there who’ve managed to make it this
long on their own, although...” He looked past the helicopters to
the gate. “It’s been a while since we found anyone.”