Under a Tell-Tale Sky: Disruption - Book 1 (45 page)

The synthetic fabric of the upholstery caught first and filled the air with the vile smell of gasoline and burning plastic as a satisfying plume of smoke billowed from the cab to float across the road, obscuring but not totally blocking the view of their attackers. The fire in the bed produced less smoke, but did contribute somewhat to the haze.

“I think that’s about as good as it’s going to get, boys,” Kinsey said. “We gotta haul ass, but don’t bunch up or run in a straight line. Got it?”

The two men nodded.

“We all raise up and unload on them through the haze to get their heads down, then you two take off while I stay back and lay down cover fire. Then I’ll run past you and you return the favor, shooting over the truck and through the haze from some distance back. Then we’ll leapfrog again. If we’re lucky, we might be able to open up the distance before they figure out what we’re doing—then we all run like hell.”

The plan almost worked. The wind shifted to blow at right angles across the road just as Kinsey finished laying down covering fire, sweeping the road clear. Left with no smoke screen, Kinsey had no option but to drop back down behind the now blazing pickup while his men in the open survived solely due to the timely arrival of Hughes, who pulled the SUV across the road to form a defensive position. Forced back by the heat of the now blazing pickup, Kinsey bolted for the cover of the SUV as rounds ricocheted off the asphalt around him.

He ran for all he was worth, expecting a hammer blow between his shoulder blades at any moment. Then he heard the familiar and authoritative bark of a Barrett fifty-caliber sniper rifle, speaking three times in quick succession. By the time he’d reached the shelter of the SUV scant seconds later, incoming fire had all but ceased as the big gun continued to speak. Kinsey turned to watch in amazement as the huge rounds penetrated the cop cars like they were cardboard, and screams of maimed and dying adversaries filled the air. In moments, the few remaining ambulatory survivors leaped into a partially intact cop car behind the barricade and fled back the way they’d come.

Kinsey keyed his mike. “That you, Magician?”

Torres’ distinctive voice came through the speaker. “Abra-fucking-cadabra, boss. Sorry I’m late. I had to find a good spot.”

Kinsey looked around. “Where the hell are you?”

“Look up and to your right.”

Kinsey did and spotted Torres waving at him from the catwalk high atop a massive storage tank three hundred yards away in the neighboring tank farm.

“Outstanding job. Now pack up and get down here. We need to get back to the ship.”

Chapter Eighteen

M/V
Pecos Trader

Sun Lower Anchorage

Neches River

Near Nederland, Texas

Day 18, 9:00 a.m.

Hughes set his coffee cup down and leaned back on the sofa, reaching for Laura’s hand as he did so. She gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze and settled back beside him as he looked at the group gathered around the coffee table in his office sitting area. His gaze rested on Kinsey.

“I can’t thank you and your folks enough for helping me get my family here, Matt,” Hughes said.

Kinsey shook his head. “You’d have done the same, and none of us would be here if it wasn’t for you. My only regret is I didn’t think to grab one of those bastards still breathing. We could sure use the intel. I know we’re all frantic to bring the rest of the families in, but we have to know what we’re up against before we leave
Pecos Trader
shorthanded defense-wise.”

“Well, that sheriff’s boat increases our mobility a bit, anyway,” Gowan said, flashing a smile at Georgia Howell. “Fast thinking, Mate!”

Monitoring the radio traffic the previous evening and hearing of the disabled police boat, Howell set out with a few volunteers and retrieved the vessel from the bank. It would be a welcome addition to their boat fleet.

Howell flushed at the praise. “Have you had a chance to check it out?”

Gowan nodded. “The First and I went over it this morning. Other than busted windows and bullet holes in the aluminum superstructure, she’s fine. None of the controls were hit at all.”

“Definitely a plus,” Kinsey said. “I planned on taking the patrol boat to Baton Rouge to look for my family anyway, but I was really worried about leaving you here without some cover. Now we can mount the second M240 on the police boat and leave a couple of my guys here to run it and train some of your folks. I’ll feel a lot more secure knowing you have adequate protection.”

Hughes was about to speak when the phone on his desk rang. He excused himself and walked over to his desk.

“Captain speaking.”

“Captain,” said the second mate, “I’ve got Wilmington on the radio and they have a message for Chief Kinsey.”

“What is it? I’ll pass it along,” Hughes said.

“Ahh … they’re still on. I think Chief Kinsey may want to take this one personally.”

“Okay, we’ll be right up.”

Moments later, Hughes followed a puzzled Kinsey across the bridge and over to the radio station.

“Fort Box, this is
Pecos Trader
. I’m putting Chief Kinsey on. Over,” the second mate said, handing Kinsey the mike.

“We copy,
Pecos Trader
. Wait one. Over.”

Hughes raised his eyebrows. “Fort Box?”

The second mate shrugged. “Yeah, that’s what they’ve started calling it because—”

“
Pecos Trader
, this is Fort Box for Chief Kinsey. Over.”

“This is Kinsey. Go ahead Fort Box. Over,” Kinsey said.

There was a pause and then, “Dad? This is Luke. Over.”

Kinsey looked shocked; then his face split into a wide grin and his eyes glistened before he turned away from the others and wiped them with the back of his hand, momentarily speechless as emotion washed over him.

“Dad? Do you copy? Over.”

Kinsey spoke into the mike. “Yes, Luke, I’m here. It’s great to hear your voice, son. How did you get there? Over.”

“It’s a long story, Dad. I’ll tell you when I see you. What about Kelly and Aunt Connie’s family? Are they okay? Over.”

“I don’t know,” Kinsey said, “but I’m going there as soon as I can. It may take a few days. We have a lot of issues here. Over.”

“Yeah, here too, but I’ll try to get to you all as quick as I can. Meanwhile they don’t want us talking too long, so I need to sign off. Over.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know about the family as soon as I know myself. And work hard on getting here.” Kinsey looked around, a bit embarrassed. “I love you, son. Over.”

“I love you too, Dad. Be careful. This is Fort Box, out.”

Kinsey handed the mike to the second mate and turned to Hughes, still smiling.

“That’s the best news I’ve had in over three weeks,” Kinsey said.

Hughes nodded, returning Kinsey’s smile. “Maybe this will all work out after all, Chief.”

Sun Oil Dock

Neches River

Near Nederland, Texas

Day 18, 9:00 a.m.

Spike McComb stood behind the huge loading arms and looked straight across the river into the anchorage inlet. He glared at the massive ship floating in the distance, with the Coast Guard boat and HIS patrol boat moored to its side. The longer he watched, the madder he got. He exploded at the most convenient target. Snaggle saw it coming and steeled himself before McComb even opened his mouth.

“TWELVE MEN AND MY NEW PATROL BOAT! CAN’T YOU IDIOTS DO ANYTHING RIGHT?”

Snaggle hesitated, unsure of the proper response. He tried positive spin.

“But we know where they are now, right? And they likely can’t get away. That ship ain’t goin’ nowhere fast.”

McComb grabbed Snaggle by the shirt and threw him against a vertical pipe so hard his head bounced off it. “SO WHAT, YOU MORON? THEY GOT OUR BOAT! And did you see that machine gun? They obviously got radar too, so we’re not likely to be able to sneak up on ‘em, and they’ll cut us to pieces crossing open water, even if we get another boat.”

McComb released Snaggle so abruptly the small man banged his head on the pipe a second painful time. McComb turned to glare at the ship once again.

“But I’ll figure out something. ‘Cause this is MY county now, and nobody comes in here and messes with me. I’m gonna have that ship and everybody on it, and you can take that to the friggin’ bank!”

Fort Box

Wilmington Container Terminal

Wilmington, North Carolina

Day 18, 9:30 a.m.

Luke Kinsey stood in the radio room, smiling like an idiot in the wake of his conversation with his father. He’d put the various possibilities out of his mind over the last few stressful weeks, dreading the worst. Confirming his father was alive and safe impacted him more profoundly than he would have thought possible. Now if his sister and Aunt Connie’s family could only be brought to safety, the family group would be complete.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see the smiling face of Major Hunnicutt.

“I imagine there’s a happy man in Texas about now.”

Luke nodded. “No happier than the one right here, Major.”

“So you’re planning on joining your father in Texas? How you gonna get there?”

Luke shrugged. “Not a clue at the moment. Everything happened so fast I haven’t had time to give it any thought.”

“Well, we can provide supplies. That’s the least we can do since y’all rescued Anthony, but beyond that we can’t do much for you.” He hesitated. “Of course, if you change your mind, you’re always welcome here. We can always use more good folks.”

“I appreciate that, but—”

“But family comes first,” Hunnicutt said. “I get that. However, while you ARE here, I’d like to include you in our daily progress meetings so you can get a feel for what we’re trying to accomplish. I’m figuring your dad and Captain Hughes are gonna set something up in Texas, and the more we share info, the better chances we all have to get through this. We’re a long ways apart, but we’ll face similar challenges. And I’d also like you to share what you told me about this Special Reaction Force.”

“Sure, I’d like that. But what’s the setup? I mean, who’s in charge? Is it military or civilian or what?”

Hunnicutt grinned. “We’re sort of making it up as we go along. I’m senior military, but both Sergeant Wright and Chief Butler have a lot of experience and some damn good ideas. And Levi Jenkins isn’t military at all, but he’s got a better handle on this whole situation than all of us put together, so he’s welcome to the meetings anytime he’s here. Then together we pick other folks to attend the meetings if we have any need for their particular skill set. We actually kind of do things by consensus. I’ve never been a big fan of ‘committees,’ but damned if it doesn’t seem to be working for the moment, mainly because we don’t seem to have any dumb asses involved.” He frowned. “I suspect that won’t last, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Okay. I’m in. Just let me know when,” Luke said.

“That would be now,” Hunnicutt said. He led Luke down a hallway.

The group was already gathered when they entered the small conference room. Sergeant Josh Wright and Chief Mike Butler were there as expected, along with both Levi and Anthony. The older man got a clean bill of health from the resident medic, though he was still moving a bit slowly after his beating. Despite his pain, Anthony smiled and nodded when Luke entered the room, obviously pleased to see him at the meeting. The last attendee was a bit of a surprise; Vern Gibson sat at the conference table beside Levi Jenkins.

Hunnicutt motioned Luke to an empty chair and took his own seat at the head of the table.

“Okay, folks, I know we’re all busy, so let’s get right to it. Josh, please give us a quick overview on the defensive wall and the aide station?”

Josh Wright nodded. “The perimeter wall around Fort Box is finished, at least until we decide to expand it. We have clear fields of fire between the new wall and the original razor-wire-topped fence around the original perimeter of the terminal, and protected firing positions for the M2s at regular intervals. We’re good to go there. As far as the aide station, we’ve picked out a level spot in the middle of one of the golf courses at the Pine Valley Country Club. We’ll start moving empty containers there today, and should have a basic defensive position built by sundown. I figure we’re two to three days from having the defensive outpost, storage area, and field kitchen completed. I think we can get the mess tents up the next day and be able to start feeding folks the day after that.” He paused. “Of course, we’ll try to shorten that if possible.”

There were nods around the table.

“Good work, and stay on it,” Hunnicutt said. “There are a lot of hungry people out there so this is Job One. Any intel on the bangers?”

“Just the usual,” Wright said. “Except for their ill-advised run at Levi’s place, they’re concentrating on low-hanging fruit. They’ve grabbed all available resources for themselves, and are using food and water to control the local population. They’re definitely steering clear of us, but that’s liable to change when we move out from the fort and start helping the general population.”

Hunnicutt nodded. “We’ll just have to deal with that when it happens. But speaking of threats, I’m getting a little nervous about our government friends. I’m sure you’ve all seen the choppers flying over these last few days and all know we’ve been in intermittent radio contact with FEMA. They seem very interested in our level of stores, supposedly so they can ‘supplement’ our local relief efforts. Like the rest of you, I’m skeptical.”

He nodded toward Luke. “Luke here was ‘recruited’ for the FEMA Special Reaction Force, and he’s provided the first hard intel regarding what FEMA is actually up to. I’ve asked him to share his experiences.”

Luke acknowledged Hunnicutt’s nod and then related everything he’d observed from his short service with FEMA. By the time he’d finished, there were clenched teeth and balled fists around the table.

“In light of what we now know,” Hunnicutt said, “we have to decide how best to respond to FEMA—”

“Fuck ‘em,” Chief Mike Butler said, a sentiment met with cries of agreement.

“I’d say that’s pretty much unanimous, then,” Hunnicutt continued, “but I doubt that’s going to go down well. We have to add them to our list of potential threats, probably near the top of the list. Again, something we’ll have to address if and when the time comes.

“But moving on and on a more positive note,” Hunnicutt said, “our list of allies has grown as well. You’ve all met Vern Gibson, who has a farm upriver. At Levi and Anthony’s suggestion, I invited him here. Levi, would one of you gentlemen like to tell us what you have in mind.”

The three looked back and forth, each waiting for the other to speak. When no one did, Levi sighed and broke the silence.

“Just this, Major. There’s a lot of stuff in these containers and the grain ships, but when it’s gone, it’s gone. For a community to survive, you need farms, and farms along the river are the best bet. Vern here says he and his neighbors are already trading among themselves, but with a little more labor and fuel, they can produce much more than they need. Likewise, we probably got stuff in these containers they need, and if we can get a stable community going here, at least it will be a place to trade. However, that’s gonna take a little help from Fort Box here.”

“I’m listening.”

“The bangers and other marauder types aren’t stupid. Sooner or later they’re gonna start raiding the countryside, just like they tried to hit us yesterday,” Levi said. “Fact is, I suspect they may already be doing that along the main roads. But between the Guard and the Coasties, y’all have fast boats and generally outgun the marauder types, at least for now. We’re thinking you can maintain the safety of the river and we can distribute radios to the river farms that don’t have them, kind of like a 911 to call a quick reaction force on one of those fast boats. In time, as you recruit more people out of the refugee population, maybe we can set up manned security stations up and down the river—I’m sure the farmers will donate the land and the labor to build small stations and docks.”

There were general murmurs of agreement as Levi finished.

Hunnicutt nodded. “Sounds like a damn good idea to me. I take it from the comments everyone else likes it too?”