Chapter 8
For several more days, I struggled with the information in the folder and got exactly nowhere. I remember sweeping everything off the table once in a fit of frustration, only then I had to pick everything up and reorganize it again. When Debra showed up after she finished her work for the day I was sulking, kind of childish I suppose, but the frustration was really starting to affect me.
“Bad day?” She asked.
“Does it show that much?”
“Yeah, I think you need to step away from it for a while and adjust your attitude.” After a trip to the fridge, she handed me a beer and then sat on my lap. “I’m serious, last night you were talking in your sleep nonstop.”
“I talk in my sleep?”
“Yeah, you didn’t know that?”
“No one has ever told me I did, I mean how would I know I was talking while I was sleeping?”
She laughed and then said, “That little dagger like knife of yours, you know, the one you have on your FLC?”
“Yeah?”
She had previously said she thought it was too short of a blade for a fighting knife and the full-length double edge made it impractical for a General-purpose knife. “Did you break that or something when we were in the exhaust tunnel?”
“Before, I broke off the point trying to pry open the door.”
She got up, went to my gear rack and pulled the blade out of the sheath and then sat back down on my lap. “Well, I guess by the time you rework the blade it could be good as a letter opener.”
“Debra, I really liked that knife.”
“Well, it’s no good to you as it is and I thought I remembered it being broken, so after you mentioned it in your sleep…” Debra has taken to carrying a sort of satchel like shoulder bag with her all the time now when she is off-duty. Inside she has two thirty-three round mags for her Glock, the shoulder stock, a couple of MRE sandwiches, and two one-quart water bladders. She has a few other odds and ends in it as well; she says she doesn’t want to get caught with her ass in the wind again like the day at the Child Care Center. She pulled the satchel too herself and put her hand inside and withdrew a knife in a worn and stained leather sheath. “I brought you this.”
I took the knife and examined it. There was a small flapped pocket on the front that held a wet stone and the sheath looked as though it might be designed to be tied off to the side of your lower leg, or worn on a belt. The knife itself, had what appeared to be a leather washer hilt with a prominent hexagon pommel, a blade at least five inches long and the spine of the blade had what looked like a short saw blade ground into it. I studied it for a minute, other than showing some wear from sharpening and the fact the Blueing, or Parkerizing, was worn off, it looked to be a good quality knife. “This looks like the one you have on your chest rig.”
“It is, the only difference is it’s about fifteen years older than mine. It belonged to one of our Wing Sergeants at Bahgram, he was killed in an IED explosion and mine was stolen out of the barracks. We figured one of the Afghan cleaning boys made off with it. Anyway, one of the other Sergeants asked me if I wanted it to replace the one stolen. That’s how I came by it. The stains on the sheath, next to the handle? That was his blood; I tried to clean it off, but it was soaked into the leather.”
“Babe, this knife is a keepsake, it has meaning for you, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, Sergeant Morris was a really good guy and he looked out for me. He was kind of a father figure for me.”
“I really appreciate the offer, Babe, but you should keep this, you know?”
“No, Morris would get a kick out of that knife still being put to good purpose; his grandad was a pilot in Vietnam and carried a knife just like it. Besides, you need a knife you can count on; you can count on that one. It’s part of my history, it means a lot to me and that’s why I want you to have it. Please, take it.”
“Okay, I’ll get some paracord and use that to tie it off to my FLC. Thank you, Babe, it means a lot you would give this to me.”
She smiled, wiggled around on my lap until she was facing me, and then gave me a kiss before saying, “Have you had any training in knife fighting?”
I frowned, “You mean there are martial art schools that teach the use of knives?”
“Of course, there are, but I doubt there are any around here. Luckily for you, one of the guys in EXSEC is a practitioner of Eskrima. It isn’t necessary to commit to a long training regime, but he can teach you some basic fundamentals that will definitely help if you ever need it.”
“Couldn’t you teach me that kind of stuff?”
“Well, yeah, but he’s the expert and…”
“I want you to show me what you know, and then maybe I’ll take some lessons from your friend. Okay?”
“Daniel…”
“Please?”
She blew air out of her pursed lips before saying, “Look, I’ve seen guys I knew teach their girlfriends to fight, and girls teach their boyfriends; it usually doesn’t, in my experience, work out well.”
“Why?”
“It just doesn’t.” The sudden shift in the tone of her voice informed me she wasn’t going to budge. There was a story here, but I wasn’t going to hear it.
“Okay, anyone else that can show me some fundamentals?”
“Danni is very good, but she can get pretty rough, physically and mentally, especially with guys.”
“Even with her friends? I mean, I can understand if it’s some guy that’s given her a hard time, but would she get rough with a friend, like me?”
“She and I train in hand-to-hand at least once a week and I can hold my own usually with most guys, but she can rough me up pretty good and I’m sure she’s taking it easy on me.”
“Really? Does she train with Daniel?”
“Just once, he refused to tap out and she ended up dislocating his shoulder.” I must have got a shocked look on my face because she hurriedly added, “Not on purpose! She cried when it happened and refuses to train with him anymore.”
“So, I take it she’s really, really good.”
“Yeah, she fought professionally in the MMA for a while and was undefeated, but she injured another fighter so bad in one of her matches that she quit.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah, she’s really good.”
“Okay, but that reminds me, is there a gym I can use to work out? If I’m going to try and gain my weight back, it might as well be muscle rather than fat.”
“Yeah, but it’s pretty primitive. Primitive like in, crudely made benches, bar bells that are simply pipes in concrete filled buckets, stuff like that.”
“You mean with the money they spent on this place, there’s no workout room?”
“EXSEC and INSEC used to both use the fitness gym in Phase Four, but the commander of INSEC said the female External members couldn’t use the gym anymore because they were, quote, distracting, unquote.”
“From what I’ve heard about the INSEC guys, I guess that doesn’t surprise me.”
Debra shrugged, “They’re not all bad and some are actually pretty nice and squared away, but there seems to be a lot of roid rage over there.”
“Steroids?”
“Yeah, the only way you get bodies that are bulked like some of them are is with intensive long-term training, or steroid injections. That kind of training pretty much excludes any kind of job.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Packer adamantly bans any steroid use among the EXSEC crew, but Major Philips tended to look the other way.”
“Ah, yeah, he was the commander of the FBI Hostage Rescue Teams, wasn’t he?”
Debra nodded. “Steroid use would explain some of the cowboys you’d hear about when the HRT would raid someone. I saw it myself in Dallas, some of the guys would take steroids to bulk up for when they would get into physical confrontations on the job.”
In some of my encounters with Internal Security, I have to admit I felt somewhat intimidated by how big they were. One of the physical requirements must have required a plus six-foot height just to be considered. By big, I don’t mean just how tall they were, a lot were muscular monsters as well. Some of them have been pretty nice and professional, but the majority were like the one that turned Danni and I away when we went to bring Debra to safety. I could readily understand the friction between the two security components of The Facility.
Debra and I would often have long in-depth discussions as we grew closer to each other and internal walls started dropping. We both had extensive bad experiences as we were growing up. One of the things she had trouble understanding about me, at first, was how many fights I used to get into at the schools I attended. I was always pretty small in my early years and was the brunt of quite a few bullies. In the foster program, the powers that be, didn’t want foster parents and kids to get emotionally attached to one another, thus the reason we were shifted and relocated so often. The bad thing about being relocated was, very often, the school you attended was also different.
When you’re the new kid in class, there is always someone who thinks you need to be taught who is in charge of the playground, or the hall, or whatever. Because I was smaller, I was picked on a lot and I learned to fight dirty. When I finally got a growth spurt in 9th grade, I caught up with the rest of the guys, but I kept my fighting philosophy none-the-less. I fought dirty and I fought to win. It physically hurt too much to do otherwise, but I also spent an inordinate amount of time in detention halls and suspended from schools. I was considered a troublemaker, but after the first week of a new school, I would usually be left alone and the councilors would brag about how well they had handled me and worked me past my violent tendencies. No, the bullies learned to leave me alone. That was my mantra, you leave me alone, I leave you alone. It was still an integral part of who I was.
For Debra, it was different, but the result was the same, she fought a lot. She fought because she was insulted concerning her parents, she was picked on because of her wild head of hair, she fought because of the poor clothing she had, hell, the first new clothing she ever owned was her Air Force uniform. Then her parents’ lack of ability to express love for her caused her to throw herself into a series of bad relationships with men that treated her badly. They would become physically abusive and instead of submissively suffering through it, she fought back, viciously.
I would look at her and wonder how could anyone treat someone who was so sweet, and loyal, and beautiful in such a manner. She was still spending many of her days off at the Child Care Center in Phase Five. I would always meet her there when her shift was over and watch as she cared for the kids until it was time for her to leave. She was always hugging them, playing with them, laughing with them. The kids were constantly hanging on her, trying to climb up her legs, and standing on her feet as she walked them around the center. She might be in a bad mood when she arrived at the Child Care Center, but she was always in a good mood when she left. The children seemed to fill her up with joy. I wondered what that joy would look like when it was her own child she carried and played with.
Watching Debra play with the kids brought up another thought, if you walked around the Facility Exchange, you could spot holes in the stocked shelves. I hadn’t been paying much attention to it until I went to the pharmacy to purchase some condoms, there weren’t any. Yeah, the first time I notice a shortage is when it affects my sex life. I’m a guy, okay? I discussed the lack of condoms with Debra and she said she would check with the doctor at the clinic about getting a prescription for birth control pills, but she had side effects the last time she took them. She said she started becoming emotionally erratic with wide mood swings. I told her never mind, we would figure something else out, but she added it had been several years since the last time she had taken the pill and maybe now she would react differently.
I was uneasy about the idea of the after effects, but though we both wanted kids, now didn’t seem to be an opportune time to do so. In addition, though we both wanted to get married, we still hadn’t made it official and both of us wanted the marriage out of the way before children. She saw the doctor, got the prescription and within a week of starting the pill, I threw them away and forbid her from ever taking them again. The term ‘wide mood swings’ was an understatement, to say the least. Several times I would find her quietly weeping and when I asked what was wrong, she would say she didn’t know, she just felt horribly sad. She would suffer from sudden bouts of anger that came out of nowhere and say things to me, and others, that were bordering on cruel. The final straw was when she dragged me out of bed at three in the morning and proceeded to scream at me for leaving the toilet seat up and then sat on the floor and cried as she apologized. I dumped the pills in the toilet and flushed them right then and there. It took a couple of days, but soon she was her old self and told me if she ever mentioned birth control pills again, just shoot her. Yeah, like that was ever going to happen. The thing is, when she was normal while on the pill she was, well, normal, but when she wasn’t like herself, lookout.
The knife she gave me? I was really liking it and started wearing it on my Fighting Load Carrier. It was strong and durable, but I just didn’t have it in me to get rid of the dagger completely. I ground it down while not allowing to it overheat and lose its temper until it looked as it did before I broke off the tip. Yeah, it was short, but I just had a thing for it. I put together a sort of shoulder harness and started wearing it concealed under my left arm.
I had stopped watching the news because almost all of my free time I dedicated to Debra. We literally spent hours talking with one another. Eventually though, her work hours would shift and she would be sleeping while I was at work and vice versa. I actually got a lot of work done during those periods. I had returned to working at facilities and taken part with the restoration of the labs that had been affected by the containment breech that had caused so much trouble. Workers from the janitorial division of facilities went in first to clean the affected labs while wearing hazmat suits and it was a long, drawn out, procedure, but they did successfully finish and then the construction trades followed. Many of the workers and residents of The Facility had a tendency to look down on the janitorial staff because of their job title, but the majority of the staff were intelligent and highly motivated in their approach towards their jobs. As noted, they were responsible for the successful cleaning of the labs and that was not a low brow type of operation. These folks were well-trained and well paid because they knew their jobs. Once the actual restoration started, it didn’t take long for the labs to return to their former functions. Personnel were brought in, some new and some transfers, to replace those lost in the accident and the labs soon returned to a normal work schedule.
Felicia was duly impressed with the efficiency of the whole operation. Me? I was rather suspicious of the whole situation. Like they say, once burnt, twice shy. However, Administration finally returned and that alone caused some to be less concerned. I guess folks figured if the people who bailed out as soon as the alarms went off were willing to return, then things must be okay. Personally, I wasn’t so sure.
Eventually, I did return to training with the Auxiliary, but not as a member of Dan Smith’s squad. By the time I returned, there were three full squads of EXSEC Auxiliary and I was placed in a new, fourth squad that was being trained. Fourth Squad contained two male members and eight female members with co-training instructors, Sargent Bellows, and newly advanced in rank, Sargent Monroe. Yeah, Danni. Bellows trained us in infantry tactics and sentry duties, while Danni worked us in hand-to-hand combat and emergency lifesaving procedures. Both of them were very good at their jobs. Danni was also assigned the duty of teaching us to march in formation. Debra knew the marching was going to be part of the first day’s instruction and drilled me in our room on commands and actions. How to stand at attention, how to salute, about face, left and right turn. I never realized how technical some of this stuff was. I was a little embarrassed at first and was joking around some, but after she bit my ass and explained the purpose of close order drill, I got my shit together, paid attention, and by the time we finished, she was satisfied with my ability to follow simple commands. She told me there were three reasons why close order drill was important: first, it helped to develop an immediate response to commands in an orderly manner. Second, to instill espirit de corps amongst new trainees, and third, which she said was the most important, not to reflect badly on her. She wanted to be proud of me. If for no other reason, the third was good enough for me to take her tutelage serious.
Before we left what I had started to call, our room, instead of my room, Debra told me to change into the coyote brown pants that I had received when I was first assigned to the Auxiliary. She told me to wear an OD green tee-shirt, the Marine RAT boots and the boonie hat. The last thing she handed me was the improved militia smock that Gillian Packer had made me, but told me not to put it on until I was told to. We walked together to the briefing room and from there we went our separate ways. I was supposed to meet Bellows and Danni in the parking lot next to the rifle range.
Monroe and Bellows were already there, but I was the first recruit to arrive and we spoke briefly until the others began to show up. Danni and Bellows both told me they would not demonstrate any familiarity with me while training, because they didn’t want any of the other recruits to think I received special treatment. The other guy that was part of our training squad was blatantly irritated when he saw the number of women in our squad and announced he wouldn’t serve with a bunch of pussies, his term, not mine, and walked away. That was his right to do, after all, there was no extra pay or privileges as a member of the Auxiliary and it was strictly voluntary; anyone could quit the training squad at any time. Bellows left with him and returned later with another man who was on the list of potential volunteers. After about an hour delay, an hour Danni spent demonstrating some of the hand-to hand training we would receive, we actually started learning close order drill. I have to admit the time Debra spent with me the previous day worked to my benefit and Bellows used me to demonstrate some of the things he was teaching us.
When he and Danni thought we were ready, they formed us into a column of twos and marched us to the outside of the EXSEC Bunker where they told us to stand at ease. Bellows entered and a few minutes later he returned with Lieutenant Packer. As Packer exited the Bunker, Danni shouted “ATTENHUT,” and we all snapped to. Danni saluted the Lieutenant until he returned her salute and then he said, “At ease.” He spent about fifteen minutes giving us a pep talk and thanked us for our desire to serve the community. Then he presented each new member a militia smock and told us we were to wear them whenever we trained. When he finished, Danni brought us back to attention while he left, and then we spent the next hour marching around the facility parking lot while wearing the smocks. It was actually pretty cool.
It was almost noon, when Bellows announced the training would continue after we had lunch and they handed out box lunches from the cafeteria. After lunch, it was training on how to man the watchtowers that were located around the parking lots and the razor wire topped chainlink fences around the front of The Facility. By five o’clock in the afternoon, they again formed us into a column of twos and marched us back to the EXSEC Bunker where we were finally dismissed until the next morning.
Bellows and Danni waited until everyone was gone and then discussed what had happened through the day as I listened in. Finally, Bellows left and there was just Danni and I. “Daniel, tomorrow we are going to be handing out some basic MOLLE equipment, so the trainees can start getting their gear sorted out. I’d like for you to bring your gear, so we can use it to demonstrate to the recruits the possibilities, do you mind?”
“Of course not, but wouldn’t it be better if you showed them yours, or Bellows? You guys know your gear and what will work best. Heck, you guys have been in combat. Me? I’m just some guy that read a bunch of closet commando crap on the internet and used the information to put my ‘oh shit gear’ together.”
“Yeah, Bellows and I could, but your gear will be effective, and is cheap. That’s the main thing, these people need to purchase a lot of equipment and weapons and we want them to see what you did because what you chose is effective and inexpensive.” Then she laughed, “Closet commando, huh? I’ll have to remember that one.”
Debra showed up and said ‘hi’ and ‘bye’ to Danni as she walked away, but I noticed that when Danni didn’t think I was looking, she pointed at me and then gave Debra a thumbs up gesture. I guess I did okay for my first day and Debra was pretty happy during our walk to our room. We were going to go to the cafeteria, but we both wanted to shower first.
As we were walking, Debra kept up a running dialog and somehow, she got onto the topic of one of her ex-boyfriends who was a real dumbass. He started working extra hours at work, but said he wasn’t getting paid for it because he was on salary, Debra said she started getting suspicious, but figured she was being silly, until she was cleaning out the pockets of a pair of his dirty pants for the washing machine and found a slip of paper with a girl’s name and phone number written on it. She asked him about it, he told Debra she was a vendor that delivered merchandise to the warehouse he worked in and she had given him the number to give to his boss, but he forgot.
She called the number the next day and identified herself as her boyfriend’s sister and said he had asked her to call the girl and say he was sorry, but he wouldn’t be able to make it that night. The girl got a little angry and wanted to know what she was supposed to do with the theater tickets she had already paid for and then hung up. Needless to say, the guy wasn’t at work the next day because he was busy moving out of her apartment.
We both got a good laugh out of it and then something popped into my head, vendors and suppliers. I started rushing Debra along because I needed to go through that damn folder of Packer’s again. There were lists of supplies that Gupta’s lab had been using and I had no idea what they were for, but I bet a vendor or supplier might know.
When we arrived at our room, I immediately started going through the folder while Debra hit the shower, and I realized I needed more than just the partial list of supplies and equipment that was on the list I had seen before. I went to the barracks phone and called Dak, he was finishing up in his office and said he would run a preliminary check before he left and then touch bases with me at the cafeteria. After Debra finished her shower, I jumped in and then we headed for the cafeteria. After getting our food, we started eating and finally Dak walked in, waved to us before getting his own tray and then sat down at the long table we were at. As Debra and I finished he started eating and talked at the same time.
“Okay, I did the preliminary check on supplies going to Gupta’s lab and frankly this is going to be difficult. There are literally hundreds of separate items that her lab has requested. Without someone to give me an idea of what I’m looking for, I’m pretty much dead in the water, but I’ll get Fel to look it over and see what she has to say. She might be able to give me some pointers on what to look for.”
“Okay, good, is she coming to eat with us?” I asked.
“I called her lab, but one of the techs said they were working late and she probably wouldn’t be leaving until they finished a test procedure they were running.”
“Damn, Dak, try and get her on this as soon as possible. I know you guys have your own concerns, but I have a good feeling this idea could bear some fruit.”
He nodded in agreement, “Maybe, but it would help if we had some idea what it was you wanted us to look for. I mean there are plenty of items I know I can ignore, like, I’m pretty sure how many number two pencils they use, or who supplies them can be skipped, but what else? Eliminating things, I don’t need to check, could be just as important because it will cut down on the search parameters, you know?”
Debra asked, “Dak, your warehousing computer, is it set up to isolate particular items supplied by separate suppliers? I mean, let’s say your number two pencils for example, could you cross reference the pencils and the supplier, and then automatically eliminate everything supplied by that vendor?”
“Possibly,” he thought for a moment and then said, “Yeah, I think so. Most of the supplies we have warehoused can be provided by multiple vendors. Accounting always makes us check prices from different suppliers and then take the most cost effective. You know how bean counters can be; sometimes they spend a dime to save a penny. That’s a good idea, Debra.”
She smiled as she said, “I’m kind of enjoying this detective stuff, I guess my inner cop is expressing herself.”
“Oh, yeah, you used to be a cop,” Dak said, then he chuckled and added, “Working at Human Resources, I have the ability explore my curiosity about people and to tell the truth, I have wondered about the relationship the two of you have.”
I glanced at Debra the same time she glanced at me, and we both said, “Why?”
“You two are polar opposites when it comes to personalities.” He pointed to me and said, “You, are generally very somber, unsmiling, withdrawn, and really good at fading into the background. When you’re not, you don’t exactly dance on the tables, but you can be fun.” Then he turned to Debra, “You, are vivacious, bubbly, excited, and more than once I’ve seen, and heard you, basically denigrate yourself, especially when you’re with Daniel. You are always acting like you’re kind of dense, but I know you’re not, because I’ve seen your employment profile and I’ve seen the sparkle in your eyes when you do it, when you act dense, like you’re getting a kick out of telling people, ‘nothing to see here, move along.’”
The look of surprise on Debra’s face caused me to laugh out loud, “Dak’s got you pegged, Babe.”
Dak smiled as he said, “A lot of people see me as a glorified warehouse manager; they forget I’m also a psychologist.”
“Good grief,” Debra mumbled. “Allow a woman at least little bit of mystery.”
We laughed and then Dak stood up, “I’ll touch bases with you tomorrow, okay?”
“I’m going to be in Auxiliary training tomorrow, so why don’t I call you when I can.”
“Okay.” He left as Debra and I gathered our own trays and followed him out.
When we returned to our room, I re-attached the knife Debra gave me to my Fighting Load Carrier using paracord that I cut to length and melted the ends of, so it wouldn’t fray. Where I originally placed it wasn’t working out and Debra told me that was usually the case. Setting up your gear was an exercise in trial and error. While I was doing that, Debra informed me the knife was called an Air Crewman’s Survival Knife and the saw blade on the back of the blade wasn’t for cutting through wood, like I thought, but the aluminum skin of an aircraft. Go figure. I also had Debra go through everything I had on the FLC and make any changes she thought necessary, the only thing she suggested was the addition of nitrile gloves to my IFAK and the replacement of the components I had used on her when she was injured. I had totally forgot to do that, so we made a trip to the Facility Exchange and bought what I needed.
The next morning, Bellows and Danni had us perform calisthenics, that was followed by close order drill for about a half hour and then they had us run in formation to a large sandy pit where Danni started working us through some hand-to-hand drills for two hours and then we ran to another area where we started learning simple squad patrolling and skirmish formations. Every time we changed location, we had to run. I was discovering just how out of shape I had become since starting work for Global. At the end of the day, they marched us again to the EXSEC Bunker and the other members of the training squad watched as I demonstrated how my Fighting Load Carrier was rigged up. Bellows and Danni were constantly commenting on the gear, pointing out the what and whys. When I was finished, they opened several large boxes and passed out the individual components of a set of fighting load gear to everyone, canteens with cups, and finally several sheets of paper stapled together that illustrated common hand signals that we were to memorize before the next morning. They told us when we were done, we should stick around and put our FLCs together because we would be inspected first thing in the morning to make sure they were set up properly and then wear them whenever we were training. I started to leave, but Danni suggested I stay and help anyone that had difficulty assembling their FLC. It was a good thing I did, but I wanted to talk to Dak Sorenson.
I finally got Dak on the phone in his office and he told me that he and Felicia were working together on it. It was slow going because of all the extemporaneous crap they had to sift through, but they were making headway. Then Debra helped me with practicing the hand signals Bellows and Danni wanted us to memorize before quizzing me on them. I finally got all of them down. What a pain in the ass. I complained and told Debra it would be easier if someone just shouted commands, she gave me ‘the look’ and asked me, “What if shouting out a command gave away your position?” It’s time to start thinking and observing the way I normally do instead of shooting my mouth off.
The next morning, myself and the training squad met where we normally do, but Bellows and Monroe weren’t there. We milled around for a while until Sarah Mills, one of the women recruits, noticed movement near the far tree line and recognized our two instructors. “Hey everyone, isn’t that Sergeants Bellows and Monroe over there?”
I looked and agreed, “Yeah, that’s them.”
One of the other women asked, “What the hell is Bellows doing?”
Mills said, “He’s giving us hand signals.”
Bellows kept repeating the same three signals and Sarah said, “Rally point, on me, double time, oh shit, it’s a test.”
I agreed, and said, “Mills, take command, get us formed up and then march us over there, double time.” We ended up being a little ragged, but we got there.
Bellows congratulated us even though he said we were a bit slow and disorganized. The best part though? He said because Mills took command, she was now our provisional squad leader until she screwed up. I sighed with relief because I figured I had enough on my plate already. She lasted about two hours, and the other guy became squad leader. We had four squad leaders before the day was done. I lasted about thirty minutes.
Debra and I were sitting in the barracks common room watching TV news and to tell the truth, the news wasn’t good. The third wave of the debilitating flu virus was still raging and things around the nation were starting to break down. Too many people with critical jobs had been lost and as a result, the infrastructure of the nation was rapidly degrading. There were the beginnings of food shortages, while at the same time, crops were being stored, or destroyed, in order to maintain prices. People were striking for better pay in order to meet the increased costs of living and at the same time the federal government instituted wage and price controls, especially rent control. The problem was, many of the owners of large apartment complexes had died and the buildings were empty, or there was no one to collect rent.
People began moving out of homes they could no longer afford, or maintain, and relocated to apartment complexes, or gated communities, where they formed collectives and locked others out. They started raising their own food where they could and the ones that had access to solar equipment installed their own small utility co-ops. The state and local governments began running out of tax funds and began to force groups out of the co-ops. People began to resist forcibly and soon gun battles broke out. Anarchy was clearly on the horizon.
The thing that struck me the most? The climate alarmists began to proclaim the massive death toll as the best thing that happened to the human race in hundreds of years. The zero population growth people seemed to be ecstatic, they actually had block parties to celebrate the reduction in population, but still demanded government controls on the birthrate be instituted with forced sterilization for anyone becoming pregnant, or fathering a child. Debra and I found those reports to be particularly alarming because of our desire for children in the future. Religious strife began to spread and Europe began to burn as Fundamentalist Muslims attempted to install sharia law and governance. I listened to American politicians who seemed to fold to the demands of every stripe of extremist that had a platform to preach from. Socialists used the epidemic to put anti-capitalist laws in place. Anti-gunners passed laws to disarm the General population in order to reduce gun violence, but all it did was disarm the honest law-abiding people who turned their weapons in. California banned all guns weighing less than eight pounds, any gun that had an internal magazine greater than three rounds, all guns that used detachable magazines, and shotguns that held more than two rounds.
We sat through a two-hour long townhall meeting and listened to the radical justifications of the far left for the draconian laws they had passed and the ones they still wanted to impose. Basically, they kept saying the reason their previous actions had not corrected the collapse we were experiencing was because they had been held back from taking the more extreme actions required that would actually make things better. All three men of my sprinkler crew ended up sitting with us and watching the same program we were watching, all of them seemed morose and uncomfortable.
I finally turned to them and said, “I haven’t watched the news in a quiet a while, is it this bad all the time?”
Marvin was the first to speak, “Actually, I haven’t watched the news since the U.S. Military was ordered to intern itself on bases until further notice.”
“What! Why?” Debra exclaimed.
“You didn’t hear about the dust up in Seattle?”
“No,” I said. What happened?”
“One of those radical commie groups jumped a bunch of soldiers at the International Airport in Seattle. They were holding them hostage and demanding the military be disbanded.”
“What happened?” Debra asked.
“When the military asked the Seattle Police
what the plan of action was, the police told them they had been ordered to
stand down by both the Mayor of Seattle and the Governor of Washington state.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Well, it’s no secret both of them are self-proclaimed progressives; they said they were afraid the hostage takers might hurt someone if the police tried a rescue, so they were suggesting that the military actually be disbanded. Then the commies brought three soldiers out where the news cameras could see them and executed them as a show of their determination.”
Debra gasped and said, “No, they didn’t.”
“Yeah,” Marvin said. “I saw it live on MSNBC. They shot two of them, and beat the head in on the third with a baseball bat. That was about six hours after the stand-off started and two hours after that, they killed three more. MSNBC was saying that the military forced the hostage takers to take action, so the military was responsible for their deaths. One hour after that, every TV camera broadcast died, the power went off at the airport and a pretty large area of Seattle also. The Army sent a force of Rangers from Fort Lewis and attacked the airport. Some of the soldiers being held hostage were killed by the radicals, but there wasn’t a single living radical in the airport when the Rangers left. The Air force brought in two C-130s, loaded up all the freed, injured, and dead soldiers and flew them to Fort Lewis. They counted over 250 bodies the Rangers left behind and none of them were Rangers.”
“Outfuckingstanding,” Debra said. I could tell she was royally pissed.
“Yeah,” Marvin said. “But heads are going to roll; the General in command at Fort Lewis has been relieved of command as well as the commanding officer of the Rangers. Word has it that during the runup to the raid, the Ranger Commander warned his battalion that anyone who took part in the raid probably would end up on trial, so it was strictly volunteers only. The entire battalion volunteered. The Ranger Commander led one company of Rangers in the raid and kicked some major ass.”
“Geez,” I said. “American troops forced to take action on their own soil, things are falling apart.”
“Yeah,” Marvin said. “Remember I was talking about dragging up and moving on?” I nodded. “I think I’ll stick around for a while and see how things play out.”
I nodded again as I pulled Debra tight against me, “Yeah, I think we will too.”
We finally retired to our room and went to bed, but neither of us was in the mood for our usual lovemaking. Debra drifted off and I lay there for quite a while thinking about what I had seen on the news. Finally, I gave up trying to sleep and got up to putz around with the folder some more. It was while I was looking through a series of lab warnings that I heard him.
“You’re over-loading yourself with minutiae.”
I looked up and he was across the table from me simply staring. “Really? You think? It’s all I have at the moment though.”
“But it’s not. There’s the news, there’s what Sara said to you, oh and by the way, why didn’t you tap that when you had the chance?”
“What? Because she’s a crazy bitch. She purposely tried to ruin my relationship with Debra.”
“Yes, she did, and Debra bailed on you. Sara’s a hotty and you could have got some of it with no repercussions.”
“I told Debra you never told me to do anything wrong, don’t make me a liar. Now, either help, or fuck off.”
“Packer is right about you; you are a little touchy.” He chuckled and then said, “Guilt by association, my brother, guilt by association.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“If you can’t get to Global, who can you get to? Use Global’s associations against them. Does Global have subsidiaries you can check out? Is Global a subsidiary itself? Who, or what, does Global make political, or charitable donations to? Come on, Daniel, use that IQ that Sara wanted to fuck so bad. Stop acting like a dumbass and get your shit together. I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself.”
“You are me, if you help, I am helping myself.”
“Bingo. Now, collect your prize.”
I hung my head for a moment and then looked back up to tell him I didn’t think it was cool to use Debra’s words against me, but he was gone. Pushing the stacks of papers aside, I pulled my laptop in front of me and opened it up. Connecting to the internet, I typed in my first query, ‘Global Research/political contributions.’ Let the fun begin.
I was startled when the alarm went off at five AM. Debra woke, stretched, and then looked around quickly as she realized I wasn’t in bed beside her. I displayed the palm of my left hand to her as a method of greeting, clicked save on the laptop and then closed it.
“For god’s sake, Daniel, don’t tell me you’ve been up all night.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
“You have training this morning; did you get any sleep at all?” Swinging her feet from under the sheet, she grabbed a tee-shirt and pulled it down over her head and then stood up.
“No, I didn’t, but I figured a lot out though.”
“I asked you to step away from that crap for a while, you’re going to screw your head up with that shit.” With that said, she went into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later brushing her teeth. She stood there watching me as she cleaned her teeth, and then finally, she pulled the brush out and mumbled past foamy lips, “Well?” Then started brushing again.
“My alter ego came for a visit last night, probably because of the news we watched.”
She stopped brushing and said, “Hold that thought,” before returning to the bathroom and rinsing her mouth. She came back out, grabbed a pair of sweats from the same chair as the tee-shirt and tugged them on. “Go ahead.”
“Charitable and political contributions, Global has their fingers in a lot of different pies, but all from the same bakery.”
“Huh?” She looked perplexed.
“Sorry, I’m more than just a little tired. Remember the news reports about the zero-population growth and the climate change people celebrating?”
“Yeah.”
“Global has made substantial donations to both groups and I mean substantial, as in millions of dollars.”
“Really?”
“That’s not all, I started tracing some other contributions Global has made. On the surface, they appear to be dead ends, but then you check where the organizations that Global donated to, made donations and it starts getting worrisome. You know the group that took the soldiers hostage in Seattle?” She nodded, “I was able to establish financial ties by way of contributions that passed through six different organizations until I came to, guess who.”
“Global.”
“Bingo.”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be considering the tentative nature of the loose connections. I don’t know, all of the groups I traced received donations from other organizations as well, but I’m willing to bet with a proper flow chart, we could establish some connections that are more than worrisome.” I rubbed my eyes and said, “I’m exhausted, did what I just said make sense?”
Debra sat on my lap and opened my laptop, “Okay, show me what you have so far.”
I reached around her and open the file I had created during the night, “This is it, all of these corporations, political action groups and politicians are all connected in some way through money. I was able to trace all of them back to Global, but I don’t know if Global is the original benefactor, or if it’s just another transfer point from further up. Like I said, the connections are tentative, but there is no doubt that Global is donating to organizations that are, at the grassroots level, very extreme.”
“What are you going to do with this?” She said as she scrolled down the screen, “I mean, who would you even take this to?” She kept scrolling down, “Good god! How much is there? You did all of this last night?”
“I don’t know who to give it to. I guess take it to Packer, but what is he going to do with it? This could add up to basically nothing, but with more investigation, professional investigation, it could be a smoking gun that could topple political and financial dynasties.” I twisted my neck to crack it, but I could still feel tension in my upper back, “Oh, and I need that recording Felicia had of me and Sara talking. I was pretty angry at the time, but I think she said some things that might be supportive of my conclusions if what I believe is true.”
“What do you believe?”
“It’s going to sound crazy, Debra. I keep looking at it and, on the surface, it seems almost like paranoia, I hope it is.”
“What?”
“I think there is a concerted effort to drastically reduce the world’s population.” There, I said it, and it sounded just like I thought it would. The schizophrenic rambling of a guy that talks to an imaginary version of his self.
Debra turned on my lap so she could look at me while she stroked my cheek, “You’re exhausted, you said so yourself, I want you to go to sleep and…”
“Debra, please don’t patronize me, I know how, what I just said sounds. I know how crazy I appear…”
“What? No. Daniel, I want you to get some rest, that is all I mean, period. I’m going to take your laptop to Packer and see what he says, maybe he can come up with something. I know he’s been cultivating a bond with that FBI special agent and maybe there’s a pathway there to a deeper investigation.”
“You, believe me?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Oh, okay, uh, let me take a quick shower…”
“And then go to bed, I’ll let Danni and Bellows know what is going on.”
“No, I made a commitment and I’m going to follow through with it.”
“Daniel…”
“No, Debra, I’m going, as you said, period.”
She threw her hands up and shook her head as she started getting ready to leave and I went to the barracks communal shower. When I returned, we were both ready to leave. Even with our later than usual start, we reached the EXSEC Bunker before any of the other trainees, and went straight to Packer’s office. He was leafing through some papers as he sipped a cup of coffee.
He looked up as we walked in and nodded, “Tarn, Smith, what can I do for you?”
I opened my mouth, but Debra spoke first, “Lieutenant, Daniel was up the whole night researching this thing with Global, and he’s come up with a lot circumstantial evidence that Global may be part of a conspiracy.”
He tossed aside the papers he was looking at, “Really, a conspiracy to do what?”
Again, I opened my mouth and Debra beat me to it, “A possible conspiracy to significantly reduce the world’s population, Sir.”
Packers eyebrows lifted, but it took him a moment to say, “Tarn, I realize Global is probably trying to cover up this SNAFU in their research lab, but global genocide? That’s a bit of a leap, don’t you think?”
Debra placed my laptop on Packer’s desk, opened it and turned it on. She brought up the file, opened it, and then turned it to face Packer, “I only gave it a cursory look this morning when I woke up, but from what I can see, Daniel did an in-depth report of what he found. It’s freaking seventy-five pages long and he even included footnotes.” She looked at me and said, “Anal much?”
I shrugged.
Packer smiled, and then started scrolling through the pages. After a few seconds, he told us to sit down as he picked up his phone and waited a moment before saying, “Gillian, could you come to the office please? Thank you.”
Turning to me, he said, “I assume you used the internet to gather this?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you think they would post information that might incriminate them in criminal activity on publicly accessible web sites?”
“Yes, Sir, “I answered.
Again, he raised his eyebrows, “Really? Why?”
“Rules, regulations, that require transparency when the source of funding is involved. Some of the organizations listed are charities, some are involved in politics, some are public advocacy groups. By not including financial statements they would be guaranteed an investigation by the IRS. This way, taxes are paid and no problem. A cursory glance wouldn’t be interesting to most people until they started connecting dots the way I did. What we need now is a professional investigation to dot the ‘Is’ and cross the ‘Ts’.”
Mrs. Packer entered the room, “Hi, Debra; hi, Daniel,” she said as she walked to the Lieutenant’s desk, “What do you need, Jerry?”
“I need this,” he said as he pointed at the computer screen, “Copied to a disc and to paper, a hard copy thing, can you do that for me?”
She nodded and taking the laptop, she placed it on a shelf behind Packer that held a printer. She switched a cord around, pressed a couple of keys and within moments, the printer came to life and started spitting out pages. “Jerry, you really need to learn to do this yourself, it will save you a lot of time.”
“Do you know how to knock out an armored vehicle with a Carl Gustav? I do,” he said smiling up at her.
She sadly shook her head, “If you weren’t so lovable…”
Packer turned back to us and winked at Debra before saying to me, “You were up all night?”
“Yes, Sir. We watched the news last night and some stuff I saw, and some things that Sara Gupta said to me, got me thinking and I started doing research. I guess I got caught up in it.”
“He has training scheduled for today, but he really should get some rest, Lieutenant,” Debra said.
“I’m alright, Sir, I don’t want to fall behind the rest of the squad.”
“I agree,” Packer said. “With both of you.” He picked up a sheet of paper and glanced at it before continuing, “Bellows has your squad down for equipment issue, close order drill, patrol formations, and skirmish formations this morning, then weapon familiarization this afternoon. A soldier needs to learn his limitations and how to push through fatigue. I want you to take part in everything this morning and then go home and get some rest. You’re fairly well-trained with a weapon, so you won’t miss much if you miss the weapons class; it’s going to be an introduction to the AR platform with no actual range time today.” He glanced out the window of his office and saw Bellows and Monroe walk past, “You better report for training, why don’t you leave your laptop here and pick it up when you’re done?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He started to turn away, but stopped and said, “By-the-way, a guy from the Mill Shop stopped in yesterday afternoon and asked to talk to you after you left. He needs you to bring him one of your magazines, so he can run it through your weapon he’s modifying. You might want to stop by there on your way to your room.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Debra and I stood up and Debra went to attention and saluted, I copied and did the same. Packer saluted, and we left. Getting used to military stuff can be difficult, I guess. Bellows and Danni were just calling the squad together when we walked out, so Debra gave me a quick kiss and took off. I fell into my normal spot, but I noticed we were short one of the women. Danni was just starting to explain the cardboard box she was standing beside when Stacy Menendez ran up and assumed her normal spot.
Danni just stared at her for a few seconds and said, “Menendez, front and center.”
Uh, oh.
Menendez actually performed the movement rather well, “Yes, Sergeant.”
“You will be provisional squad leader for this morning’s warmup exercise. I want you to lead the squad in a run around the air strip.”
“Sergeant, you want me to lead the squad? To the airstrip and back?”
“No, I want you to lead the squad, around, the airstrip and back. This is punishment for you being late to morning formation.”
Stacy audibly swallowed and then said, “Yes, Sergeant!”
She did an about face, so she was facing us and shouted, “Squad, right face!” she turned to her right, which was the correct direction to run, but we turned to our right, which was the wrong direction to run.
I heard an evil chuckle from Danni, and then she said, “Smith!”
“Yes, Sergeant!” Shit, what did I do?
“You have the record for the shortest period of time as provisional squad leader, am I correct in that assessment?”
“Yes, Sergeant!”
“And how long was that, Smith?”
“I believe Sergeant Bellows said I lasted thirty minutes, Sergeant.”
“Well, I do believe you have lost the pleasure of your claim to fame, I believe Menendez just aced the record.” She chuckled again, “Sergeant Bellows, how long did Menendez last?”
“About thirty seconds, Sergeant Monroe.”
“Oorah, you crushed it, Menendez, fall in.” Stacy assumed her normal position. “Lincoln!”
Shayla Lincoln was a young African-American who worked as an accountant in the administration office. “Yes, Sergeant!”
“You are now provisional squad leader; lead the squad around the airstrip.”
“Yes, Sergeant!”
When you haven’t slept for twenty-four hours, a run around the airstrip and back is a long way. The only good thing about the run was, after we got back, we were issued hydration packs to wear while we trained. Bellows and Monroe had even filled them for us. They left us alone after they told us we had twenty minutes to hydrate and figure out why all of us had to run when Menendez was the only one late and, come up with a corrective action. We finally decided that because the squad was a team, we would either succeed, or fail, as a team. The corrective action was to form two-person buddy teams whose responsibility was to ensure your buddy was on time. My buddy was the other man in the squad, John Trench, who was slightly younger than myself, but I think he was hoping to be buddied up with Stacey. I understand his interest in Stace, she was a hotty, just like Debra. Bellows and Monroe congratulated us on our logic and approved of our plan for corrective action and we returned to training.
When the squad stopped for our lunch, Monroe told everyone that I had been on duty for thirty hours and praised me for the toughness I demonstrated by showing up and participating in the training exercises, and then told me after I had finished eating, I was dismissed. Worked for me. I took off and went to the mill shop and met with Henderson.
The milling went much faster than I could have dreamed, but damn that aluminum shined like a brand-new quarter. “It looks good Eugene, but it sure does shine,” I said.
He laughed and said, “I haven’t anodized it yet.”
I shook my head and muttered, “Sorry, I’ve been awake thirty hours and I’m starting to run down. Lieutenant Packer said you needed a magazine to run through the weapon?”
“Yeah, did you bring one?”
I opened one of my shingle pouches and pulled one of the magazines out to hand to him, “It’s a loaded mag in case you want to cycle it through to make sure it feeds like it should.”
“Good, I was hoping you would think about that. Look, I made this stock to match the one you had, but I made a few changes that I thought might be helpful. I watched some videos on weapon handling, and it seemed to be a good idea to make it ambidextrous, so the safety and the mag release can be activated from either side.” He told me this as he slid the magazine into the mag well and then activated the release so it would drop out when either side of the release was pressed. Then he demonstrated the safety worked from both sides. “Like I said, I watched quite a few videos and it looked like some of those picatinny rails would be handy on the foregrip, so I put one on each side and a shorter one underneath. If you don’t want them, they’re attached with screws and can be removed. The rails make it a little heavier, but I figured the possible pros out-weighed the cons. Now that I have the magazine, tomorrow I’ll dip the stock to remove any oil left on it and then prep it for being anodized. I tried to figure a way to match the camo you had on it, but It’s probably best if you just paint it the way you did before.”
“Okay, so when will it be ready to test fire?”
“Oh, we could do that now, but it’s just more I’d have to clean before anodizing it. Come back in three days and we’ll take it out and test it.”
“Great, I’ll see you then.” I left and by the time I got to the room I felt like I was walking through molasses. I took a shower and crashed.
I was waking up and wanted sleep to last a little longer, but things started coming back to me, slowly, but yeah, oh shit! My laptop! I forgot to swing by Packer’s office to get it back. It was dark, but I was alone on the bed, where was Debra? What time was it? What day was it? I groaned and swung my legs over the side of the bed, but my feet didn’t land on the cool linoleum, they thumped on something soft, warm and a little excitable.
“What the fuck!”
“Oh, shit Babe, I’m sorry. Why are you on the floor?”
“Because you were sprawled all over the bed and I didn’t want to wake you, so I just made a nest on the floor.” Debra sat up and picked up the alarm clock, “It’s three in the morning.”
“Sorry, Babe, I just woke up and you weren’t here. I don’t even know what day it is.”
“You haven’t missed anything; we were in Packer’s office yesterday morning. You came home early and went to sleep. I came home and read from your computer, you left it in Packer’s office by-the-way, then I tried to move you. So, here we are.”
“I’m sorry, I must have been really out of it.”
“Yeah, usually you sleep pretty light, so I knew you were really tired.” She yawned and started getting up.
“What are you doing? Go back to sleep and get some rest.”
“You didn’t have dinner, but it’s in the fridge. Let me pee and then I’ll take it to the kitchenette and warm it in the microwave.”
“Pee if you need to, but then go back to bed. I’m capable of heating my dinner.”
She got up and went into the bathroom. I stood up and went to the fridge to get my dinner. I sat it on the table beside the laptop while I turned the computer on. A few minutes later she came out and took my hands.
“I can heat your dinner, it’s not a problem.”
“I would have a problem if you gave up your sleep; go back to bed, hell, I might go back to sleep after a while myself.”
She gave me a lingering kiss and then said, “Okay,” as she returned to her ‘nest.’
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She laughed, then climbed up on the bed and curled up as she pulled the sheet over her head. I took the meal and my keys and walked to the kitchenette. After heating my meal, a small piece of roast with gravy, mashed potatoes and peas, I returned to the room and sat in front of the computer. There was a new folder on the desktop titled, ‘Daniel and Gupta, audio file,’ I clicked on it and the audio started, loudly; I paused it.
From under the sheet I heard Debra say, “The headphones are on the counter.”
“Sorry, Babe.” She didn’t respond. I retrieved the headphones and then listened to the recording several times. Finally, I took out pen and paper and transcribed the audio; I found listening to it made me angry and I missed some of what she said; the transcription was more dispassionate. I went through it and highlighted the areas that pertained to what I was interested in and then started going back over the notes I had made about the connections to Global. When I looked it over again, I could understand why Debra had described the information as circumstantial. There was nothing that would actually prove there was a conspiracy.
I shifted gears and went back through all of the websites searching for the names of the people who ran the organizations. I created a list of Chief Executive Officers, Chief Financial Officers, Presidents, et cetera. I went to the barracks common room and turned on the TV. Accessing the menu, I sifted through the categories looking for a list of administration officials, there was none, but there was an interfacility phone directory. I started typing in the names I had written down and searching for them to see if they were listed. Two were, The CEO of Global, and his wife, who was the CFO of an organization called “A Better World,’ headquartered in San Francisco. Using the laptop, I went back to ‘A Better World’s’ website and reread it and the list of organizations it was affiliated with. One of its affiliates was a major state university. The actual connection wasn’t really the university itself, but the school of science and in particular a tenured professor named, Doctor Ahmed al Ahmadii, Professor of Climate Science. Beneath his name was a list of his writings, both books and articles, there were at least a hundred published items. Several caught my eye, ‘The Muslim’s Guide to the Coming New World,’ a rather tongue in cheek title, but it was only available for purchase in Arabic. I skipped down to the titles of articles and glanced over them until I found one that piqued my interest, ‘Reaching the Threshold of Sustainable Population.’ I wrote down the title and then brought up the laptop’s search engine. Opening my Favorites menu, I clicked on the academic research site I subscribed to and then the search function for the articles. Typing in the title and Ahmadii’s name, I clicked ‘search’ and waited. They had it. I started to read the article and was shocked by the Doctor’s premise. He believed that climate change could not be stopped unless the Earth’s population was reduced to a more manageable, ten percent of its current level. As I read, I realized he was advocating the forcible reduction of population if people would not take part willingly, and only the most promising should be allowed to procreate. He ended the article on a hopeful note, he was sure the world could easily support the remaining ten percent if strict genetic guidelines were followed.
My skin began to crawl as I thought of the current flu epidemic, was this the opening shot of a war on mankind? Were they working on other methods of reducing the population? Could they create something that might cause people to turn on each other? Like the ones in Gupta’s lab?
