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Colonel Harris lightly tapped his creamer spoon in rhythm on the edge of his steel coffee mug as the team of engineers updated him on their work with the electric grid. Bruce was a soldier, not an engineer. He had told these men a million times to keep it simple for him, but at every meeting they held, the men insisted on getting into the specifics. It was all he could do to look like he was paying attention. The engineer currently talking was in his early fifties and worked for the refinery prior to the EMP. He had a wiry frame with greasy black hair and a beard which held bits and pieces of the man’s breakfast. The worst part was his high-pitched voice, which would have been better suited to some character from a Disney cartoon. Bruce smiled back and nodded at the man, trying to show that he had interest in what was being said. Finally, the man trailed off and finished his report. Bruce was ecstatic until he realized there was one more person waiting to speak from the Army Corps of Engineers.
After sitting through the hour-long briefing, Bruce still wasn’t sure if they would be able to get the whole system working or not. “So, in a nut shell, each of you still need another shipment or two of parts before we can even try to fire that power plant up. Those parts may take another three or four days to locate. Is that correct?” The eight men standing before him all nodded their heads in agreement with varying degrees of enthusiasm. “Alright then, let’s schedule another meeting one week from today. Remember, if any of you need to speak with me beforehand, my door is always open.”
The men all replied with various versions of thanks, and a few even shook his hand as they made their way out the door of his office. Bruce saw Major Samuelsson waiting patiently, leaning against the wall in the hallway, so he waved him in. Sammy came in and shut the door, taking a seat across from Bruce’s desk.
“Good Lord, Sammy! I can’t tell you how bad I hate those meetings,” Bruce complained. “You have eight engineers that all want to speak but say the exact same things in eight different complicated ways. At the end of it all, you can sum up the entire hour in three sentences.” Bruce looked up to see Sammy smiling at him. “Keep smiling, Sammy. I’m going to make you sit in on the next one,” Bruce threatened his friend with a grin. “So, what’s new?”
“Our new friends with the radio tower near Tionesta had an interesting night,” Sammy started.
Bruce raised his eyebrows at Sammy and placed the report he had been skimming down on the desk, suddenly interested. “Go on....”
“Apparently, four well-armed men were doing recon in the area and tried to get into their compound. They were just getting ready to engage the men when they left.”
“Okaaayyyy?” Bruce said curiously, waiting for the punchline. “So what’s the big deal?”
“The four men were picked up later by a small convoy of six civilian vehicles loaded with armed men. They didn’t come through Tionesta and they definitely didn’t come from here,” Sammy said.
“So they came through the National Forest from the east...from the direction of Bradford,” Bruce finished Sammy’s thought.
“Scouting party?” Sammy offered, “...looking for a place big enough to replace the prison?”
Bruce nodded his head in agreement, “Quite possibly....” He rubbed his stubbled chin in thought. “We need to give the mayor down in Tionesta, and that group with the tower, a discreet heads up. With comm’s up, it’s probably time to keep our end of the bargain and station a couple dozen soldiers down their way as well.” Sammy nodded in agreement. “Also, for the next ten days, I’d like to have whatever Company is on standby operating under Condition Orange. If those guys try and set up shop next door to us, I wanna be ready to rock and roll.”
“Yes, Sir. I’ll let the Company CO’s know right away,” Sammy assured him. “I’m kind of surprised those raiders have hung around, knowing what they are up against.”
“If it was your wife and kid that were killed, would you run away?” Bruce asked darkly.
“Probably not,” Sammy agreed solemnly.
“What I should do is give them General Oates’ name and address down there at HQ!” Bruce responded angrily as he stood up and stalked over to the window. He sighed once more as he stood there in silence. Sammy knew that the colonel was still upset over the innocent civilians killed during the airstrike, and he felt it was best to just sit quietly and wait until his friend was ready. After a few minutes, Bruce continued. “What else?”
“Sergeant Wilson passed away sometime during the night. I was wondering if we could give him a military funeral.”
Bruce didn’t reply, just shook his head sorrowfully; he had known the day would come, and he wasn’t surprised that the day had arrived so soon. He had admired the veteran’s strength and attitude in the midst of utter chaos and the worst circumstances. Each day one of his men had been assigned to drop off an MRE for the elderly master sergeant he had met on their drive into Warren. They had buried his wife, but Bruce knew that ‘Old Crazy Joe,’ as the townspeople had called him, was happy to be reunited with her and to have put the suffering world behind him. Bruce realized that Sammy was still waiting for an answer. “I think it would be appropriate. We’ll gather the men at 1100 tomorrow; you can give them the heads up.” He gave Sammy a few seconds to make a note. “What’s next?”
“Well..., we had four AWOL this week.”
“What?” Bruce exclaimed, turning back from the window. “I thought we were done with this crap.” Colonel Harris’s regiment had lost nearly a third of its soldiers in the month following the EMP, but it had been weeks since the last time a soldier went AWOL...and now four in one week.
Major Samuelsson shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe it had something to do with the attack on the prison?”
“Baaah,” Bruce dismissed his observation with a wave of his hand. “Our boys have been through all kinds of hell. That was a walk in the park. We didn’t even take a single injury.” Bruce leaned back against the window sill, staring at his friend. Major Samuelsson just shrugged his shoulders once more, not sure what to say. “I want you to personally interview the men in each of their units. Find out who their friends were and see if you can find out why those soldiers left. Don’t turn them into interrogations, stay friendly and just try and get a feel for general morale. I want a report on what you find.”
“Roger that,” Major Samuelsson agreed as he scribbled a few lines into his notebook.
“What about the scout team from Bradford?” Bruce asked, changing the subject.
“They returned last night. All is quiet at the prison and airport. The prison is still smoldering in a few places, but it hasn’t seemed to draw much attention from any surviving locals. If there are any survivors in the area, I doubt they care much that the prison is gone. More surprising is that the multiple landings we’ve had at the airport this week haven’t drawn more attention. I’d have guessed that at least a nearby family or two would start poking around and waiting at the airport for food or information, but no one yet.”
“They will,” Bruce interrupted. “Just give it a little more time and a few more deliveries and they’ll start congregating near the airport. Whoever heads out to the airport for the next delivery, I want them to post some signs at the entrance to the airport. Something to the effect of ‘No trespassing, military installation, trespassers will be shot’...whatever you think is best.”
“Okay,” Sammy answered while jotting down some more notes in his notebook. When he was done, he looked up. “Any word from HQ or General Oates?”
Bruce shook his head, “Nope. And as long as they’re not talking about it or bringing it up, I’m fine with that.”
“Yeah, it’s probably best to let a dead dog lie,” Sammy agreed. The day after the assault on the McKean Federal Penitentiary, Lieutenant Jenkins’ replacement arrived on a small Cessna at the tiny airstrip just outside of town. The man had been mostly polite and did an investigation into the letter the Rangers had left behind for him. He had visited the farmhouse the Rangers had been staying in, as well as made a trip to speak with the new mayor of Kane. He hung around for a few days interviewing Bruce and Sammy and some of the other men before leaving abruptly one evening with only a one-hour heads up for Bruce to secure the airstrip. Bruce hadn’t heard anything from the man since. He had expected a call from General Oates or General Duncan to let him know how the man’s investigation went, but no one had brought it up and Bruce sure wasn’t going to.
“What about the women we rescued?” Bruce asked, changing the subject again.
“We lost one yesterday...the same woman we had spoken about previously. But there wasn’t much hope for her to make it, if you remember....” Sammy watched Bruce’s face darken as he turned back to the open window. Sammy continued, “But the rest are doing well, Bruce. We rescued a total of 45 women and teens. The town of Kane took in twenty, Tionesta took in twelve, we were able to return eight of them to their families locally...the ones that we could locate. We still have the four sickest hidden in town. I spoke to Doc last night and he said they should all be okay within the next couple days.”
“Those poor girls are never going to be okay, Sammy,” Bruce muttered without turning around.
“I suppose you’re right, Bruce. What I meant was that they will be okay to travel or move to a safer environment....”
“I know what you meant,” Bruce said, cutting off his XO. “I want those sons of bitches bad!” Sammy didn’t have to ask who Bruce meant. After returning from the prison assault, Colonel Harris and Major Samuelsson had made a trip into Warren to the house in which they were keeping the women who needed more advanced medical treatment from the Regiment doctor and surgeon. It wasn’t a pretty sight as Sammy watched his friend try and help console some of the more abused and hysterical women. One of the women had a young daughter who was still inside the prison during the rescue. By the time they made it back to the Regiment HQ, Bruce was livid and didn’t want to even speak about it. The next day, Bruce wanted to send patrols to look for the prison survivors, but with the arrival of Jenkins’ replacement, Captain Zedaker, Bruce didn’t want to take the risk and raise the man’s suspicions.
Bruce still stood facing out the window, thinking about the evil in the world outside the protected gates he slept behind. “Sammy, send three squads to Tionesta tonight and our best Scout Sniper team. Have the Scouts do a little recon in the local area and see if they can figure out where those vehicles may have come from. Make sure you give the men the briefing we discussed about fraternizing with the locals. If one of those local girls winds up pregnant, I’m personally going to castrate that soldier with a butter knife. And you can let them know I said that!” Sammy didn’t say anything in response, just choked back a chuckle, knowing that Bruce might actually be serious. Bruce half turned back from the window to look at Major Samuelsson, “Anything else?”
“Nope, that’s about it,” Sammy answered.
Bruce turned back to the window once more. “Alright, then. Let me know if anything comes up.”
“Will do, Boss,” Major Samuelsson replied before slipping out the door and quietly closing it behind him. Sammy knew one thing for sure from the meeting: If Colonel Harris ever caught up to the survivors of the McKean Federal Prison, they were going to have a very, very bad day!