Through Many Fires (Strengthen What Remains) (20 page)

The
sun was just past its zenith as Caden, Maria, Lisa and his mother, stepped from
the car near the barter market. Lisa retrieved the cooler with the milk and
eggs the family would use for trading and together they walked toward the
bustling swap meet.

The
library was surrounded by tables and stalls. The mixture of these with colorful
tarps, smoke, music and lots of people gave the park a third-world bazaar look.
As they neared, he saw Sheriff Hoover talking with two deputies off to one side
of the square. “I’ve got to talk to Hoover. I’ll catch up with you,” Caden said
to the ladies. As he approached, the deputies departed into the market.

After
exchanging greetings, Caden got right to the point. “I have three pistols my
men and I took from a shooting at the church by the freeway. Do you need them
for an investigation?”

Hoover
sighed and his face seemed instantly older. “Do you know how many murders we
averaged in this county before this year?”

Caden
shook his head.

“
Four.
Last year was a bad year, we had five. One was a double killing. Do you know
how many have been killed in the county in the two months of this year?”

Again
he shook his head.

“
Neither
do I. But it’s been hundreds, maybe a thousand, including two of my deputies.”
He stopped, breathed deeply and let it out slowly. “The Highway Patrol hasn’t
been to Hansen since that first attack on Washington D.C. I haven’t been able
to contact the state crime lab since the Seattle blast.

“
You’ve
been trying to do the right thing since you got here and I appreciate that. I
can’t hold the threads of civilization together alone. I trust that you did
what you needed to do.” He paused and gave Caden a whimsical grin. “And
besides, now that martial law has been declared, you’re in charge. What are
your orders?”

It was
Caden’s turn to sigh as he recalled the breathless announcement of martial law
on Friday. “I haven’t received any orders since the declaration. We’ve been
working well together. I don’t want to change that relationship if I don’t have
to.”

“
I’m
glad to hear you say that.”

Before
anyone could speak Hoover’s radio crackled. “415 in progress, corner of Birch
and Main, the Salvation Army church. Request backup.”

“
What’s
a 415?”

Hoover
shook his head and his eyes narrowed. “A disturbance. Probably people think
there’s still food at the church.”

Caden
asked if he needed help.

“
No,
you go on to the marketplace.” He looked up at the clear blue sky. “Enjoy the
day. I’ve got to go.” The sheriff walked briskly to a patrol car and was off
with sirens blaring.

Just
inside the bazaar was a large bulletin board where community announcements had
once been posted. Now the board was cluttered with “will trade for” signs. One
in particular caught his eye. “NEED INSULIN. Tell me what you need.” It was
followed by an address and phone number. Caden shook his head.
Who would
trade away insulin?

Next
he came upon a man seated in a lawn chair with a rifle across his lap. On the
blanket before him were a 12-gauge shotgun and two small-caliber rifles. Beside
him sat a cardboard box with eight Labrador Retriever puppies bouncing around
inside or hanging on the edges. On the front of the box, in bold black letters,
was written, “Future Guard Dogs.” Caden laughed out loud.

The
man smiled, “I’m thinking they will come in handy in the days ahead.”

“
I
think you’re right,” he replied and walked on. Past that on his left, a woman
had chickens in a large cage. A goat was tied up beside her. A deputy stood
talking with a woman at another stall. On the table between them were dozens of
jars of honey and honeycomb. The deputy and Caden exchanged nods as he walked
by. Farther down, he noticed a couple selling trout and other fish that he
couldn’t name. The woman caught his eye, she had long, wavy, red hair.

On a
nearby table were packages of dried meat. The sign hanging below read, “Deer,
Elk and Beef Jerky for Trade.” At the next stall was an old man reloading and
selling ammunition. The sign beside him listed calibers and read, “Will Trade
for Brass.” Several guns were on display behind the counter.

“
What
does he mean, ‘Will Trade for Brass?’ Does he want scrap metal?”

Caden
turned and smiled at Maria a step behind him. “Sort of. In this case he wants
used bullet cartridges. He can reload them and make new ammo.”

Maria watched
as he made one.

“
Where’s
Mom and Lisa?”

“
Trading
for food we need.”

Caden
stood beside Maria and together they watched as a few more cartridges were
reloaded. He hadn’t seen any paper money during his walk through the market. He
noticed a few silver coins passed in trade, but the de facto currencies were
guns, ammunition and food. With those anyone could barter for anything in the
market.

They
walked together for a minute along the stalls when suddenly Maria tapped him on
the arm and pointed, “We need a car seat.”

Caden
followed her gesture to a stall that looked like a yard sale. There amongst the
clothes, pots, pans and toasters was a car seat. “For Adam?” Caden shook his
head. “No, duct tape will do.”

Maria
hit him on the arm. She took several steps closer. “She has cloth diapers. We
need those too.”

“
I got
cloth diapers back at Fort Rucker.”

“
You
got four.”

“
What?”
he smiled. “That’s not enough?”

Exasperation
spread across her face. “No!”

Caden
breathed out slowly. “Okay, do we have anything left to trade for it?”

“
Probably
not, the eggs and milk will have been exchanged for other food by now.”

Caden
recalled the pink Ruger and retrieved it from under the seat of the car. He
didn’t show the pistol when asking what the woman wanted most in trade for the
baby seat.

“
I
need food for me and my kids.”

He
headed toward the booth where the old man reloaded cartridges. Caden wasn’t
concerned about ammo for his SIG, he could get that at the armory, but Maria
had only a few rounds for her pistol. “I need .38 ammo and whatever else you
will trade for this Ruger.” He laid the pink pistol on the table. Minutes later
he walked away with 100 rounds of .38 and 550 rounds of .22.

Caden
gave the .38 ammo to Maria. “This is for your gun. Now come with me.”

“
How
is this getting us diapers and a car seat?”

“
You’ll
see.” Caden went back to the first stall he had visited. “Pick a puppy.”

“
Why
do we need a puppy?” Maria asked. “It’s another mouth to feed.”

Caden
pointed to the Future Guard Dogs sign. “If we had one, Lisa might not have been
attacked and that guy might not have been shot.”

After
a moment she nodded. “And this gets us a car seat?”

“
Well,
no this doesn’t, but be patient, and pick one.”

She
pointed to a cream colored pup that was crawling on top of the others as if to
get attention.

Caden
traded 50 rounds of .22 ammo for the little dog and wondered if he overpaid.

Maria
held it in her arms. “Well how are you…” she glanced at the belly, “little
girl?”

The
dog licked her face.

Next
he stopped at the fishmonger. He smiled at the young girl helping at the stall.
It was the same red-haired teen he had seen fishing at the creek the last few
days. “Are the fish fresh?” he asked with a whimsical grin.

“
Oh
yes,” the girl replied, “my brother and I caught them this morning before
church.”

He
swapped 150 rounds for two large Rainbow Trout fillets.

At
another stall he exchanged 20 rounds for two cans of mixed vegetables.

When
Caden laid the food on the table the woman was eager to barter.

Walking
away with the seat, he assessed the trades.
I got rid of the Ruger and now
have a car seat and more diapers for Adam, 100 rounds of .38 ammo for Maria and
I still have 330 rounds of .22 ammo. I think I did okay.

Maria,
still cuddling the puppy, leaned over and kissed Caden on the cheek. “Thanks.”

The
deal just got better!
“You’re welcome,” he said with a smile. “I don’t want to
carry this seat all over the market. Let’s head back to the car. Maybe Mom
and….” Seeing a man in camo uniform, he slowed and stopped. It was Lieutenant
Brooks smiling and talking with Lisa as they, along with his mother, strolled
in their direction.
It’s been a great day, I hope there isn’t a problem.

As
they neared, Brooks saluted. “Good afternoon sir; your father said you might be
here. We’ve received word that a presidential delegation has arrived in Olympia
and all Guard commanders are to report there on Monday for a briefing and
orders.”

The
first thing Caden noticed, as his five-vehicle-convoy approached Olympia, was
that the freeway had been cleared of abandoned cars. Then he noticed the
traffic. There wasn’t much for what should have been the morning rush hour, but
there was some. About half-a-dozen cars, all with passengers, were in the
southbound lane. As he scanned the roadway, two military fuelers passed him
heading north.

But,
there were many broken windows, wrecks and debris still visible from the
highway and despite the cool February weather, the grass was long and unkempt.

Farther
along he saw the old school bus with the wild paint job race south. He grinned
as the smell of french-fries reached him and he recalled the vegetable oil
fuel.

He
also noticed lights in some homes and businesses. Even though power was out in
Hansen, it was on in Olympia. As they pulled off the freeway, he hoped Brooks
would be able to get the old coal power plant back online and restore reliable
electricity to their small town.

Caden’s
SUV, followed by two supply trucks and a fueler, rolled toward the capitol
complex. He pulled into one of the many available parking spots and the Humvee
and trucks continued on to the supply depot to get what they could.

As
soon as he stepped into the capitol, aides informed him that a press conference
with the presidential delegation and Chinese officials was in progress.

“
Was I
supposed to be at it?” Caden looked at his watch. It was only minutes after
eight in the morning.

The
aide caught his glance. “The new Secretary of Homeland Security wanted to start
early. Evidently there is a lot to be done.”

At the
back, where Caden entered the room, many were standing. Slowly he moved along
the wall looking for a good view. Most of the room was filled with chairs that
were occupied with reporters, Guard and regular military officers and, judging
by blazers and badges, FEMA, DHS and other state and federal officials.

Becky’s
voice caught his attention and he looked to the platform at the far end of the
room. In surprise, his heart skipped a beat. There at the lectern was Becky,
his fiancée. Impulsively he stood behind a tall reporter and was immediately
disappointed in himself. He would need to talk with her, and put an end to
their relationship, but right then he didn’t want to exchange smiles and
possibly a discreet wave of the hand. With a sigh, he stepped out from behind
the reporter and turned his attention to what Becky was saying.

“…
efforts
of FEMA and the entire Department of Homeland Security, there are still
approximately 30 million displaced citizens. Estimates of those killed range
from four to six million with an equal number of injured. That is why this
country has recalled its military forces from Europe and Asia.”

As
Caden listened he noticed a Chinese army general standing on the podium along
with Carol Hatch. He had attended several meeting with Carol as an Under
Secretary of Homeland Security, but he now assumed she was the new Secretary of
DHS. He watched with growing unease as Carol and the Chinese general spoke to
each other in whispers. Becky, never at a loss for words, continued to speak.

“
While
we believe that all the perpetrators of these terrorist attacks have been
caught or killed, we are going to need long-term assistance to recover. Much of
the aid has been promised by the government of China.”

When
Becky paused a reporter across the room quickly spoke up. “General Lau, is it
true that tens of thousands of Chinese troops are already in San Francisco and
Oakland?”

The
General stepped forward with a smile. “A few hundred soldiers are working in
those ports to expedite food and medical distribution—not tens of thousands.”

“
General,
some are saying the treaty just signed by President Durant and your government
formalizes repayment procedures for U.S. debt to China and that the Chinese
soldiers are here as part of that treaty. Is your government attempting to
ensure that America repays its debt?”

“
China
and the U.S. have signed a treaty of mutual friendship—that is so. Regarding
the repayment of debt by your government I can only say that I am here merely
to manage food and medical assistance.”

Another
reporter jumped up. “But Chinese soldiers are not just in San Francisco and
Oakland. I’ve seen some at the port of Tacoma and I’ve read reports of them at
Long Beach and Eureka.”

Thousands
of troops…all the Pacific ports. It sounds more like an invasion than a relief
effort.

The
general smiled. “Some soldiers are here with me and have inspected the port of
Tacoma. They are at those other ports under the terms of the treaty of
friendship. For the duration of the emergency they will ensure the aid is
quickly and fairly distributed.”

“
Chinese
currency is showing up in those ports,” Another reporter said. “Why is that?”

“
Our
soldiers are paid in yuan. Some of it would naturally leak into the surrounding
community.”

“
Are
Americans being paid in yuan?”

“
Despite
the fact that your dollar has ceased to function as a currency we are not
paying American workers in yuan. Currently we are paying American laborers with
vouchers for food and fuel.”

A
reporter in the front row stood. “When do you believe that the current crisis
will end and your soldiers will be able to return home?”

The
General sighed. “We are here as peacekeepers, to distribute aid and assist with
stabilization—that is all. Our troops will be here only for as long as needed
to implement the newly signed treaty. I am a military man. Our departure is a
political decision.”

Becky
raced to the microphone. “Thank you. That is all the time we have for
questions.” Everyone on the platform turned and walked briskly through a side
door.

Caden
left the briefing room as quickly as possible, but didn’t see Becky in the
packed hallway. Heading toward the Adjutant General’s office, he saw David
Weston. The two men moved from the traffic into an alcove along the hall.

“
What
do you think of this friendship treaty?” Weston asked.

“
I
think Durant is panicking and making some bad decisions.” He shook his head.
“Having hundreds, maybe thousands, of foreign troops in the country doesn’t set
well with me either, even if they are doing relief work. We can do that and,”
he said with a frown, “I don’t believe they will march back on the boats when
this emergency is over. Does Governor Monroe? By-the-way, where is he?”

“
The
governor does not support the treaty, and believed that his presence would be
interpreted by many as approval for it, so he chose not to attend the press
conference.”

“
All
you heard is the spin President Durant and the Chinese government want everyone
to hear. General Lau is a politician as well as a soldier. I’m sure he’s been
told to deliver the talking points and he will do it well, but my sources are
telling me it’s not the whole story.”

Caden
gave him a questioning look. “Are you saying that Durant is part of some
Sino-American deception? I don’t like him, but why would he do that?”

“
Perhaps
I can find out. The ceremonial transfer of authority for the port of Tacoma is
tomorrow morning.” He made a discreet nod in the direction of another Chinese
officer. “But I’m to meet with Major Cheng this afternoon and finalize the
letter of understanding. He has a reputation of being a hot-tempered,
no-nonsense soldier.” He wrote down an address and handed it to Caden. “Meet me
there, okay?”

Again
he looked at Weston quizzically. “What are you planning?”

“
I
haven’t worked out the details yet but,” Weston gave him a mischievous grin.
“I’ve got some questions I want to ask the Major.”

Caden
had never been down to the port, nor had either of the two soldiers he brought
along, so it took them a few minutes to find the building where the meeting was
being held. As they drove up the Chinese delegation was just outside the gate.
There was an American guard at the entrance, but two uniformed Chinese soldiers
flanked him.
A bit premature isn’t it Major?
As Caden stepped from the
vehicle he patted his holster. He wondered if he should have issued side arms
to his fellow soldiers.
No, don’t be silly. David is a politician. He fights
with words not guns. What could happen?

Caden
and Cheng exchanged salutes as he approached.

“
Where
is Mr. Weston?” the Chinese officer asked.

“
He is
coming by another vehicle and should be here momentarily.”
I hope.

Seconds
later a silver limousine pulled up and backed into a parking spot near the
group. David Weston stepped out from the front passenger side carrying a black
briefcase.

Caden
looked on questioningly.
Why is David riding around in a limo and who rides
around in the front of one?

Weston
walked briskly toward the Major. After shaking hands David said, “I have the
draft letter of understanding with me here,” he patted the briefcase with his
free hand, “but before we begin there are a few things I don’t understand. Why
does President Durant want to give companies controlled by the Chinese military
authority over our western ports?”

The
Major appeared surprised. “You make it sound so menacing,”

“
Well
isn’t it?” Weston asked “Would you allow us to control ports in your country?”

He
tilted his head back as if looking down his nose at Weston. “The situation does
not warrant your country controlling our ports.”

“
Why
does our situation warrant your control of them?”

Major
Cheng looked tired, “I do not answer to you. Come. Let us complete the business
at hand.”

“
Is it
the price we have to pay for the food assistance? If we want to eat do we have to
give up our ports and our resources?”

The
Major’s eyes flared with anger and for several moments he stared at Weston.
“You Americans owe my country nearly one and a half trillion dollars and now
you ask us for billions more in aid to feed your peasants.” He glanced left and
right. “How will you repay us for this kindness? President Durant has already
advised creditors that the United States cannot make the next interest payment
when it is due. Your currency is worthless; your people are in panic, your factories
sit idle, you have no exports.

“
Despite
your situation, the Chinese government has graciously agreed to provide
hundreds of tons of food and medicine on credit. However, the Chinese people do
expect to be repaid.”

Weston
smiled sarcastically, “You said our economy is ruined, if it is, how do you
expect to get paid?”

“
Why
do you ask me this, you have heard the answer. Your President Durant
understands the situation better than you. He has signed a new Most Favored
Nation trade agreement with the People’s Republic and a second treaty granting
China the right to manage your Pacific ports for the next ninety-nine years
while your western states provide needed raw materials to Chinese industry.”

“
What!
Ninety-nine years! Why should America agree to that?”

“
As I
have previously said, President Durant has already agreed to the terms and, if
I may be so blunt, if you refuse you will starve.”

“
No
treaty is binding until it is approved by the Senate.”

“
Such
legal niceties are no longer practical. The Chinese government has found
working with President Durant more advantageous than awaiting some future
restored government. Obey your President or forsake our most gracious offer of
assistance.”

Caden
shook his head. “America is stronger than you think. I know we can get the
country back to work and feed ourselves, without sacrificing liberty or our
natural resources to you.”

“
The
matter has already been agreed upon. As the treaty declares, Chinese troops
will soon manage security for western mines, oil fields and Pacific ports.
Surely, you would not want to violate the laws of your country.”

Weston
stepped close to Cheng. “Yes, I think I do want to violate that treaty.”

The
two Chinese guards ran toward the general.

“
And when
the American people hear about this treaty many of them are going to want to
shove it back where it came from.”

“
You
are a fool.” With a shake of his head he said, “But you are not my concern.
President Durant must deal with American agitators.”

“
I’m no
fool…”

“
You
and Governor Monroe should be arrested.”

“…
I am
a patriot.” With the last word Weston planted his finger in the Major’s chest.

At
that moment the first Chinese soldier arrived at the side of the major and
slammed the butt of his AK-47 across Weston’s nose.

Caden
jumped forward to catch his friend, but Weston fell to the pavement with a loud
thud. Blood covered much of his face.