Only the Dead Live Forever (13 page)

23.

The entire crew
was packed on the bridge. Sean had a set of heavy binoculars scanning the
horizon. They had just begun to pick up multiple objects on the radar screen.
Other than the occasional call on the radio for a course correction, they had
not received any new details. Sean directed Brooks to maintain course and
speed.

Slowly a fleet
came into view out of the haze. Brad could make out a number of objects on the
horizon: large steel bodies topped with huge masts. He was not familiar with
Navy vessels, so a ship was still just a ship to him. Brooks, on the other
hand, had begun to get excited and started calling out the names and classes of
different vessels. Brooks pointed to a carrier, appearing to stand tall and
proud over the others.

As they motored
closer the radio came alive again. This time the order was to kill the engines
and go dead in the water. Brooks cut the engine and the boat began bobbing in
the calm seas. With the large ships on the horizon, the attack boat no longer
felt very large to Brad. He opened the bridge door and stepped out onto the bow
to take in the view.

Swanson and
Nelson joined him on the front of the ship, marveling at the fleet in front of
them. They could just barely make out a small Zodiac headed in their direction.
A number of armed sailors were on the boat, along with a man standing behind a
mounted machine gun. The sight didn’t give Brad any second thoughts; he knew that
was how he would do things if the roles were reversed.

The rigid-hulled
Zodiac pulled up alongside them. The Zodiac’s crew was dressed in digital blue
camouflage with orange flotation devices, and the men were armed with M4s and
shotguns. Still ten yards away, they called over a bull horn announcing their
intentions to board. Sean was on the rear deck and asked them to toss him a
line.

A man tossed
Sean a rope and with the help of Nelson, they pulled the small boat in tight
and tied it up to the attack craft. A man jumped on board and extended his hand
to Sean.

“I’m Lieutenant
Hanson; we’re just going to process you all aboard, Chief. This shouldn’t take
long,” the smiling young man said as he shook Sean’s hand.

With the two
boats secured together, the sailors boarded. They had asked for and received
permission from Sean to do a quick search of the vessel. A doctor was with the
boarding team and set up shop in the berthing compartment of the bow. One at a
time he asked the crew of the attack boat to enter the compartment and strip
naked. The doctor gave them a thorough inspection to make sure they were not
infected.

When everyone
had gone through the inspection process, Lieutenant Hanson asked the crew to
have a seat on the aft deck of the attack boat while he called in the status of
the crew and said they were ready for departure. Brad could only hear bits and
pieces of the conversation, as Hanson was wearing an earpiece and it made it
hard to follow what was happening.

Hanson stepped
out of the bridge, smiling. “Okay everyone, looks like the doc has cleared you
for arrival to the fleet. I’m sorry we don’t have a lot of room, so I won’t be
allowing you to take any belongings onto the Zodiac. But don’t worry, you will
get everything back. And we’ll be getting you out of those dirty uniforms.”

Brad looked at
himself for the first time. His uniforms were tired and worn, but still he had
spent almost two months in the field with nothing more than a change of
clothes. He wasn’t sure if he should take the officer’s comments as good news
or an insult. Either way, it didn’t sound like it was a point worth arguing.

Sean stepped up
from his position on the bench and approached the officer. “Sir, you can have
my dirty skivvies if that’s what it takes. When will we be leaving?”

“Oh … Sorry,
Chief, you’ll have to leave your weapons also,” Hanson said, pointing to Sean’s
sidearms and the MP5 clipped to his gear.

Sean smiled at
Hanson and leaned in close so the rest of the sailors couldn’t hear. “Okay son,
now you are just starting to sound stupid. I’m not about to surrender my
weapons to you. I think you need to get back on that radio and make some
calls,” Sean said just above a whisper.

Brad watched as
the lieutenant’s facial expression changed from a smile to a look of concern.
Hanson left the aft deck and casually walked onto the bridge, closing the door
behind him. Sean strolled near the Zodiac and made casual conversation with the
sailors. Chelsea shot Brad a concerned look and Brad responded with a shrug of
his shoulders. He really didn’t know how all of this would play out or how far
Sean was willing to take it.

Hanson walked
back out of the bridge, leaving the door open as he walked aft. Sean turned,
smiling at him. “What’s the word from the boss?” Sean asked.

“Good news,
Chief. The skipper of the Barry says he will allow you all to bring on weapons
and a basic supply of ammo, as long as you have a locker to secure them in.”

“Great work
Hanson, I knew you could do it,” Sean replied.

Tony came
forward and explained that there was a large tool box below that should hold
everything. Hanson agreed, so they opened the engine room hatch and the sailors
helped them bring the tool box out onto the deck. The crew, one at a time,
verified that their weapons were clear as one of the sailors observed and then
placed their weapons into the tool box.

With everything
loaded in the box, Tony snapped its hatches shut and they loaded the box onto
the Zodiac. Hanson quickly ushered everyone aboard.

“What happens
with the attack boat now?” Brooks asked.

“Oh, it will
become part of the fleet. You have a good amount of supplies on board; they
will come in really handy,’ Hanson said. “Don’t worry; my guys will take good
care of it.”

They had all
boarded the Zodiac with the exception of two sailors, who stayed on board the
attack boat. They untied the line marrying them together before the engines
came to life and the boats headed in the direction of the fleet. As they got
closer, the attack boat peeled off and went away from the Zodiac.

Brad sat in the
center of the Zodiac with Chelsea beside him. The small boat rode very rough in
the water; plowing through swells. Brad bounced along and reached out to steady
himself. As they drew closer to the vessel that he assumed would be their
destination, Brad saw the number ‘52’ stamped on the hull.

“52?” Brad asked
no one in particular.

A sailor next to
Brad turned around. “She is the DDG-52, the USS Barry,” he said.

“What is it,
some kind of battleship?”

The sailor
laughed. “Nahh man, this is a destroyer!” the sailor said, with obvious pride
in his voice.

The Zodiac
pulled in close to the side of the large ship. Many men were on the deck
tossing lines and shouting instructions to the Zodiac’s crew, directing them
toward the back. The crew quickly secured themselves and they rushed Brad and
his friends onboard. Brad watched as a group of men brought the tool box aboard
and sat it on the deck near them.

They found
themselves sitting on a large helicopter landing pad, but the helicopter was
missing. Brad knew they were on the back of the boat and that was about it. A
group of officers also dressed in digital blue uniforms approached the group,
but ignored everyone and walked directly to Sean. One of the officers stuck out
his hand.

“Chief Rogers,
welcome aboard,” the man said.

“Thank you sir,
good to be here,” Sean answered.

“Good, good. I’m
Commander Shepherd, the Executive Officer of the Barry. I wanted to greet you
firsthand. I wish we had more time to talk right now, but we have protocols to
follow for new arrivals,” Shepherd said.

“Protocols?”
Sean asked.

“Yeah, nothing
to worry about. You are going to sit in a twenty-four hour quarantine. But
don’t sweat it, Chief. Enjoy the downtime, okay? Try and get some rest. I will
be down to debrief you about this time tomorrow. Sorry I can’t stay, but I am
extremely busy today. Once again, welcome aboard,” Shepherd said smiling,
shaking Sean’s hand again before walking away.

As the officer
left, another man stepped forward. He was short and solidly built with a gold
anchor on his collar. “I’m Master Chief Swan; I want to welcome you aboard. You
have no gear so that will make this easy. I need you to follow the instructions
of my masters at arms and follow them below. You will all have an opportunity
to shower and clean yourselves up. We will provide you with appropriate rest,
gear, and get you a clean rack and some hot chow for your bellies.  I know you
all have questions, but seriously, the sooner we start the clock on this
quarantine, the sooner I can get you all out. So let’s get moving.”

Quickly a group
of younger enlisted sailors stepped forward and ushered them into the ship.
They were split into groups. Sean was quickly pulled aside by the master chief
while Brad, Brooks, and Nelson were taken away by two men. They watched as
Chelsea was led away by two females and Tony was taken in another direction by
two other sailors.

They were led
deep into the ship and down various passageways. Brad was quickly lost and
didn’t have a clue where he was. They were brought into a small compartment
that looked like it might possibly be a workspace. The two sailors guided them
into the room and asked them to sit down while they waited outside.

Brad took a seat
across from Brooks and sat quietly. Nelson was sitting in a corner looking
nervous and uncomfortable. “Relax brother, this is all part of the game,”
Brooks said to him.

A new face
entered the room: a middle-aged tall black man, obviously enlisted by the way
he carried himself. He introduced himself as a Navy corpsman and asked the men
to remove their shirts. He dropped a small bag on a table and pulled out a
number of syringes and vials. He walked up next to Brooks and readied the
needle. Brooks quickly snapped up his hand and grabbed the corpsman by the
wrist.

The two masters
at arms men looked in the doorway with nervous stares.

“Would you mind
telling me what this is before you just go sticking me with it?” Brooks said in
a calm voice.

“I’m sorry; this
is just a batch of antibiotics. The next is a host of antivirals. It will kill
any crud you may have picked up and help keep you all from getting sick on the
boat,” the man said nervously.

“Oh cool, thanks
for explaining that to me, Doc; proceed,” Brooks said, letting go of the man’s
wrist.

The corpsman
went around the room administering drugs. He left, and promptly their two
escorts got them back to their feet and ushered them further down the
passageway. They walked past a cage door where a female sailor handed them a
pillowcase with two sheets, a pillow, a pair of ugly blue shorts, flip flops,
and a yellow T-shirt.

Again they were
led down a long passageway, ending up in what looked like a locker room. A man
was waiting for them; he sat them in a chair one by one and shaved away the
beards and unkempt hair. Then the escorts handed them a number of heavy Ziploc
bags. They were instructed to dump all of their belongings into the bags and to
strip naked and discard their uniforms into a large, black plastic trash bag.

Brad placed
everything from his pockets into the bag and started to seal it. He stopped,
pulled his unit patch and the American flag off his uniform, and added them to
the Ziploc. Then he stripped down to his boxers and sat back on the bench. One
of the escorts looked at Brad and shook his head. “All the way naked,
Sergeant,” he said.

Brad shook his
head and stripped off and tossed his boxers into the bag. “Damn Navy meat
gazers,” he joked to Nelson.

Nelson laughed
and stripped down next, then stood and thrust his hips at the sailor. “Am I
naked enough for you seamen?” he laughed.

“Okay, that’s
enough,” Brooks said to the two of them, trying not to crack up himself.

The bag of
soiled uniforms was taken away and they were led around a corner and instructed
to shower. When finished, they dressed in the Navy athletic uniforms, which
made them all, except Brooks, feel very awkward. The two escorts again led them
down a hall and into another room.

This room had
two sets of bunk beds and a table in the center. The table held trays of food
and a pitcher of water. The escort informed them that they would have to stay
in the room for twenty-four hours under observation. If they needed anything
they should pound on the door. Then he stepped back into the passage way and
closed the door, locking it behind him.

24.

Brooks walked
across the room and tossed his bag onto a mattress. “I call bottom rack,” he
said.

“Yeah, me too,”
said Brad as he tossed his onto the other bottom mattress.

“Cool, I got
top!” Nelson said with fake enthusiasm.

Brooks sat down
at the table and pulled a tray close to him. He took a scoop of the food,
slowly tasted it, and feigned a thoughtful expression before he shoveled down
the rest. Brad and Nelson followed suit. Soon the food was gone and the pitcher
empty.

Brad walked
across the room to fill the pitcher from a faucet. They were lucky to have the
rare berthing space equipped with a working head and running water. Almost like
a prison cell. There was barely any water pressure, but it was enough. He sat
back down and set the pitcher on the table. He saw that Nelson had already
climbed onto a top rack and was snoring away on his pillowcase full of bedding.

“Damn kid didn’t
even take the time to make his bed!” Brad laughed, pointing.

“Yeah, but he’s
got the right idea,” Brooks said as he pulled the bedding from his bag and
stretched it across the mattress.

“Where do you
think Captain Bradley and the air crew are at?” Brad asked Brooks.

“Don’t know,
man, I’m thinking maybe they made it to the island? Or possibly they landed on
one of the boats. Your guess is as good as mine. I’m sure Chief will find out.”

“Yeah, hopefully
we find out a lot more tomorrow. I think it’s strange, you know, finding a
fleet just parked here in the middle of nowhere. Shit, you would think they
would be hauling ass home.”

“Yeah maybe. But
I’m glad they were here. You mind hitting the lights. I’m ready to check out
for a while.”

Brad nodded and
finished making his bed before walking across the room and shutting off the
lights. He made his way back to his rack and lay awake, staring at the bunk
above him. He could already hear Brooks snoring and Nelson was tossing about
but still sleeping heavily.

They were safe,
he should be able to rest now, but something still didn’t feel right. Brad
tried to clear his thoughts and make his mind blank so he could sleep, but his
mind continued to wander. He thought of the men he’d left behind in the
compound. He wondered if Hassan was okay back in the village where they had
last seen him. Too many things. He closed his eyes and tried again to clear his
thoughts.

There was a
clicking at the door as someone used a key on the other side to unlock it. The
door lock mechanism clanked and the handle turned. The door squeaked open and
someone flipped on the lights. Brad lifted his head from under a heavy green
blanket. He saw one of the young escorts had replaced the trays on the table
with new trays filled with eggs, while another man placed a fresh pitcher of
water on the table.

Brad rolled over
and pulled the blanket over his head. He heard a third man enter the room and
water was poured into a drinking glass. The third man dismissed the two guards
and asked them to close the door. Brad heard the door close, but he could still
hear movement in the room.

Brad rolled over
in his rack and saw a man sitting at the table. He was wearing a blue
button-down shirt and black rimmed glasses. He was skinny with a pointy head.
The man looked up at Brad.

 “Good morning,”
he said.

“Umm, is it
morning already?” Brad said, slowly easing himself out of the rack.

“Well … actually
early afternoon. Almost eleven a.m.,” the man said. “I trust you all slept
well. No problems?”

“No, we’re fine
… Who are you?” Brad asked, forcing himself into a sitting position. Brad stood
and walked to the latrine. He relieved himself as he waited for the man to
answer.

“My name is Mr.
John Smith,” the man answered.

Brooks lifted
himself from the mattress and sat up stretching; he let a big yawn then smiled.
“Mr. Smith, aye? Not really original is it?” Brooks said with a grin.

“Well anyhow,
since I’m not going to get your name; why are you here, Mr. Smith?” Brad said
as he walked back to the table and sat down.

Mr. Smith said
he was their debrief officer. Brad listened to him explain things as he slid a
tray across the table and took in a heaping fork full of eggs. “Damn man,
powdered eggs. Not cool,” Brad scowled. “Hey, do you know where Captain Bradley
and the rest of our people are at?” Brad asked.

“They are fine,
Sergeant; they landed on the island,” Mr. Smith answered.

“The island? Then
why didn’t we go there?” Brad asked.

“Just a matter
of convenience. We would have directed them here as well, but they made it to
the island before we could intercept them.”

“Intercept, aye
… Doesn’t sound too friendly,” Brad said, grinning.

“Sorry, the
island has been designated a safe zone. Under normal conditions, no one is
allowed entry until quarantined and debriefed. The admiral spent a lot of
resources clearing the island. We would like to keep it that way,” Mr. Smith
explained.

“That’s why you
brought us here then?” Brooks asked.

“That’s correct;
your Captain Bradley was flying low and fast over the water. We didn’t pick him
up until he was already on approach. And by that time he refused to change
heading and landed on the island. No harm though, they’re going through a
similar process at the airbase.”

Nelson woke and
jumped from his rack. “Hey, you guys didn’t tell me chow was here. Who is
this?” he asked, pointing at the skinny man.

“He is the man
whose name we dare not speak,” Brooks blurted out laughing.

Nelson laughed
along, “Oh cool, well nice to meet ya then.” Nelson took a tray and began
eating.

“Anyhow, each of
you will be debriefed by a member of our team. Nothing to be concerned with;
just basic information. Where your unit was located. What you remember about
the fall. If you know the names and locations of any other survivors,” Mr.
Smith said.

 Nelson started
to ramble, as he took a bite of rehydrated sausage. Mr. Smith quickly cut him
off and said they would be debriefed individually; this now was just an
introduction. Mr. Smith stood from the table and stepped toward the door.
“Finish your breakfast. Your presence will be requested shortly,” Mr. Smith
said as he knocked on the door and was let out by the guards.

“And the fun
begins,” Brooks said as he grabbed the glass of water and drank it down. “Don’t
worry about that guy, he’s either a shrink or a spook, nothing to worry about.
Just be honest with him and ask a shit ton of questions.”

There was a
quick knock at the door. The female sailor that had issued them the bedding a
day earlier entered with three partially-filled sea bags. She sat them on the
table and handed each of the men a form that she required they sign. She said
very little, and once she received the signatures she left the room.

“Chatty gal,
that one,” Nelson joked.

The uniforms
they were given were Navy issue, but not the blue type. They were of a tan
desert pattern. Brad didn’t really care what they looked like as long as the
boots fit, and was happy to find that they did. He removed his Ziploc bag and
placed the personal items back in his pockets, then he attached the Velcro unit
patch and the flag on his sleeve.

Brad stood to
look in the mirror. He laughed. “Damn, I look like shit. Must have lost about
twenty pounds.”

“We all have
buddy, we all have,” Brooks answered.

The door opened
again and one of the escorts walked in the room.

“Sergeant
Thompson, Mister Smith is ready for you,” the guard said.

“Well shucks,
don’t want to leave him waiting,” Brad said as he moved towards the door.