Pedestals of Ash (38 page)

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Authors: Joe Nobody

Tags: #Fiction, #Dystopian, #Action & Adventure

BOOK: Pedestals of Ash
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Powell’s head snapped up
,
and he
demanded
, “Show me.”

Bo
th men sprinted
to the
hangar
where
several soldiers were examining
every plane,
nook,
and cranny of the building. Powell was led to the back of the
Humvee
, where a few small drops of a dark, red substance
were
pointed out. Dipping his finger into one
of the beads
, Powell smelled the suspicious liquid
,
rubbed his fingers together
,
and stared at the results. “It sure looks and smells like blood
,
sergeant
.
B
ut there’s not much
here
. Tell your CO I want someone flown in from Bliss immediately to take a sample of this. We need to find out if it belongs to the president or someone else.”

Powell walked back to the cluster of idling copters and
scanned the terrain
. There were four possibilities: The first was the fugitive and president had left by aircraft. “Unlikely,” thought Powell. The second was they left via another motorized vehicle, commandeered from the airport grounds. The third was the missing pair had met someone here and left with them. Again, Powell thought that was low on the probability list. The last, and what Powell’s gut told him was
the
most likely scenario
,
had the stranger and president leaving the airport on foot.

He reached that conclusion via simple deduction. The shot-up vehicles littering the airport grounds had been looted of their batteries
,
and the gas caps of every single tank were open or missing. Some locals were scavenging the area
,
and any motorized transport left behind by Bishop risked being discovered and stripped. Powell didn’t think the
man
would take that risk. The same logic applied to the aircraft. Every single gas cap was
removed,
indicating someone had siphoned all the fuel. If Bishop did have a plan
e
waiting here, he risked coming back and finding empty fuel tanks. Meeting someone for a ride would have required pre-planning or communication. There was no way Bishop could have planned for the coup attempt
or
stealing a Humvee. Powell had searched the man’s personal items
,
and there had been no radio.
No
, the agent thought,
He
and the boss headed off on foot.

Powell instinctively ducked under a Blackhawk’s spinning blades and yelled at the pilot, “If you were to leave here on foot, where would you go? Is there anything of interest around here other than the town?”

The pilot looked at his GPS navigation display and a chart clipped to the dash. The helmet and mirrored aviator’s sunglasses made the man appear more machine than human. After scanning both sources, the pilot responded, “No sir, there is nothing but open desert every direction for miles
,
and
frankly, sir,
it’s pre
tty desolate-looking terrain
. I’d head for town, sir.” 

Powell nodded his thanks and walked away from the noisy
engine
. In a few minutes, the sergeant
, accompanied by
his lieutenant
,
came trotting back up. This time the officer reported, “All clear, sir.” Powell nodded and decided on a plan. He turned to the nearest Blackhawk and climbed aboard. He
approached
the coc
kpit and told the pilot his idea
. “I want two of these birds to search the surrounding desert. Stay away from the town. If they are headed there and see you, the will go to cover and we’ll never find them. I want the other
two choppers to stay here, ready to
retrieve the president
at a moment’s notice
. I’m going to take these soldiers and head into Alpha. If the air patrol finds them, radio us. After you conduct the search, return here and wait to come get us.”

The pilot nodded and immediately began relaying the agent’s wishes over the radio. Two of the big helicopters
powered
up as Powell returned to the waiting soldiers. A
gain, the agent relayed his strategy,
and within
minutes the scouts were double-
timing away toward Alpha.

After getting
everyone settled in the former t-shirt shop, Nick c
arefully moved to the roof of the building. He had calculated that the enemy would attack before dark
,
and that left them only a few hours to move into place. If the
g
houlish were going to hit the church today, it had to be soon.

The small, two-
story brick building provided a good position to observe the enemy’s approach. While he was almost certain they would attack the breach created by the garbage truck, there was no way to be absolutely positive about whic
h route they would opt for entry.
He wanted to hit them as they were staging for the attack. That’s when they would be the most vulnerable
,
and his small number of men could cause the maximum amount of disruption.

Nick had warned his
troopers
that they would probably be cut off and might not make it back to the church. They had brought extra water and food for just that scenario. He had chosen the old building for the thickness of its walls and the location. If the other side got too clever, his men might be completely out of position, but he didn’t think that would be the case.

As he lifted the heavy wooden trap door a few inches to peer outside, the first thing he looked for was any nearby structure that
offered a
higher
vantage
than his own. There was only one building some five or six blocks away that was taller and would provide a clear view of his position. It was in the opposite direction of the church, so he doubted the skinnies would have an observer there.

Keeping low, he pushed h
imself out onto the flat, pitch covered roof and slow-
crawled to a nearby air conditioner hood. The shiny metal box looked like millions of others that adorned commercial buildings all over the world and would provide him limited cover. The anticipated sniper’s bullet didn’t slam into his body, so Nick proceeded to scoot to the raised edge of the roofline
and peek
ed over. While he couldn’t see the courthouse building proper from his vantage point, he did have a clear view of several intersections in both directions. Unless the foe took a very out-of-th
e-way route to attack the compound
, they should pass through his field of view.

Whereas Bishop had angled toward the campus after leaving the airport, the soldiers headed straight for downtown Alpha. Two scouts lead the way, keeping about 200 meters in front of the main body of troops. Powell noticed their progress slowed as they
drew
clo
ser to the outskirts
of town.

The fringes
of Alpha consisted of
a
few sc
attered homes with detached
garages and small outbuildings here and there. As they progressed, the surroundings gradually changed to neighborhood streets serving homes adorned with gingerbread and sidewalks lined with shade trees. This section of Alpha had once been a modest neighborhood of middle class family homes.

The first thing the
army
infantrymen
noticed was the lack of noise. It was unsettling to approach what was clearly a place where people should be
,
and hear absolutely nothing but the occasional bird song
or
buzz of a passing insect. Absent was the hum of power lines, exhaust of internal combustion engines, televisions, radios, and children playing outside. There
was
nothing but a few quiet sounds of nature
,
highlighte
d by the light rustling of leaves tossed about in the calm
breeze.

Powell noted that every yard was littered with trash and debris. Clothing, pots and pans, paper bags and all sorts of household items were scattered randomly in front of each home. Shrubs hadn’t been
trimmed
,
and small limbs lay
where they had fallen, polluting once pristine lawns. Grass hadn’t been mowed
,
and knee high weeds were growing from sidewalk cracks and along curbs. As the column slowed, he began to notice every door had a splintered frame or broken glass. This area
had
been ransacked and looted. In the midd
le of the second block, they encountered
the first burned out residence. The brick chimney stood blackened and charred, surrounded by the low outline of its block foundation. A few wall studs were still erect, looking more like burnt matchsticks than the strong timber once tasked with supporting the roof. Mounds of charred grey ash and lumpy clusters of cold cinders filled the foundation to the brim. Powell thought the phrase “burned to the ground,” described the place perfectly. No fire department had responded to fight this blaze.   

Agent Powell was impressed at how quickly the soldiers accompanying him moved and
he
relaxed somewhat
,
as it became clear he was working with
expert
s. No doubt many of these men had seen combat in the cities of Iraq and were experienced in urban operations. Despite the hundreds of hours of instruction received by Secret Service personnel, Powell was a little out of his element here. He could probably out
perform
any of these men with a pistol or
short-barreled
weapon,
but they were obviously more adept at
moving through a populated area. Without any order being issued, the patrol immediately broke into
two columns when
they reached the first city street. At first, the
soldiers
methodically
entered and searched the
scattered buildings on both sides of the roadway. As the column progressed, it became clear that the area was uninhabited. The men at the front began to ignore the structures unless something unusual caught their eye. Still, caution ruled their progress. Rifles snapped around the corners at intersections, vehicles parked along the street were approached slowly
,
and weapons were carried at the ready. Eyes scanned se
cond-
story windows over and over again,
searching
for any signs of movement or occupation.

The point man of the column suddenly raised his fist into the air
,
and the soldiers on both sides of the street instantly moved for cover, their weapons pointing outward
,
looking for
work
.
After a few moments, the lieutenant was called to the head of the column, and Powell went with him to see what was going on. As they approached, the corporal pointed down at a small pile of spent rifle cartridges scattered around the street. The man then continued pointing here and there, drawing attention to several similar groups of brass. Dark red lines stained the sidewalk, looking very much like old, faded blood trails. The lieutenant turned and motioned for three men to move forward and set up a perimeter. When they were in place, he turned to the Secret Service agent and said, “There was a firefight here. Look at that house. See the bullet damage? Somebody had a pretty serious shootout.”

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