CHAPTER ELEVEN - Trouble at Base Camp

The next morning, Barlow found her cabinet members waiting for her at her office door when she returned from breakfast. Despite them now being civilians deactivated from military service, they treated Barlow with the military protocol as though she was still a colonel and former executive officer of the 422nd Signal Battalion when the EMP struck.

Gentlemen,” she greeted them as she joined them. “I still find it strange our not being in uniform,” she commented. Instead of exchanging salutes, she shook hands with each member of her cabinet, each chosen because of their military rank and training. These included Lt. Col. Jack Hayes - former S-3 Operations, plans, and training, Capt. Gerald Anderson - S-4 Logistics from Joint Force Headquarters, Capt. Barry Sanchez - S-5 - Plans & Strategy from the 421st Regional Training Institute, and Capt. George Pruitt - S-6 - Communications from her old National Guard unit.

I assume Ray briefed you on what this is all about. I realize that inside the mountain you were out of the loop due to the mission and small size of our military force. Up until now, most everything occurring was beneath your pay grade and outside your job qualifications. I need you now to lead us into the future, to set standards for our people.”

Colonel, you’ll have to excuse the long hair,” Hayes commented. “We left our barber at the mountain.” His hair was not all that long. He was apparently referring to it to make a point.

Barlow looked amused. “Jack, we can drop the rank bit, and as civilians, we are allowed to be a bit lax on the haircuts. That said, I was considering personal appearance and responsible actions as standards to be set by each of you.” Two young boys ran between them to hide behind Sanchez in a game of hiding and seek.

Let’s get out of here. We can talk later,” Barlow said above the medley of children playing and adults talking in the bunk area. “We are taking a tour,” she said, looking toward the Rad-Safe technicians waiting near the exit.

We can talk upstairs” She quickly scanned the group. “Wearing your dosimeters?” It was only after she shouldered her weapon that she noticed the others not carrying their weapons.

Gentlemen, grab a weapon out of the armory. We may be civilians, but like the Swiss, you are still members of the reserve and will at all times have access to your weapon.” She pitched Anderson a key to the room next door that served as the armory.

To minimize radiation exposure, the Rad-Safe technicians took the lead, rushing the armed group down a wide corridor connecting two huge lobbies that joined to serve the north and south hospital entrances. During the rush down the corridor, each looked in concern at the gale force winds pounding against the large, glass sliding doors and outside, the wind blowing the rain horizontally. Now they could put a face on the monster storm causing the banging sounds heard even in the basement and the ominous feeling of danger this presented from the unidentified problem.

They followed a trail of duct tape plastered on the floor and walls displaying yesterday’s radiation levels marked with a magic marker. The dash stopped in a much narrower corridor hosting small waiting rooms that connected to the various clinics and examination offices. Here, a simple S on the duct tape indicated a safe radiation reading.

The technicians ushered everyone through a door outside a waiting room with an Orthopedic Clinic sign where they saw a series of examination rooms. They stopped in the patient checkout area containing four desks and enough chairs for everyone present.

Everywhere they looked, they saw cabinets pilfered and vending machines broken into after the EMP by survivors seeking food and drugs. “We will be right outside in the waiting room,” a Rad-Safe technician said to excuse the others and himself.

Sit, gentlemen,” Barlow said. “I believe that each of you received a heads up that you will head a department within our reserves. Your mission will be to have our civilians trained and prepared to defend our people and our livelihood.”

I assume we are remaining under martial law,” Hayes said.

Yes, but in a relaxed way. We will encourage our people to be and think civilian as much as possible. We will encourage entrepreneurs. As the colonel said, ten years from now there will be very few usable highways, so someone needs to put on their entrepreneurial hat and design transportation that flies. Our way of growing food must adapt to the environment in which we now live. You have seen the grizzly. It is futuristic, so militarily, we are already thinking outside the box.”

Barlow saw Anderson shaking his head without saying anything. “Penny for your thoughts, Gerald.”

He physically snapped his thoughts back to the present. “I was wondering how we can think futuristically while pinned down by the nuclear winter and that storm howling around us.”

Good point,” Barlow replied. “We need to keep our people busy to maintain morale, and this is a good time for each of you to brainstorm the needs and priorities for when we resume activities outside. Your and my offices will remain in the basement shelter, but you will have all these facilities in which to set up operations. To the extent that you can, I want each of you to seek and recruit personnel interested in or suitable for your particular department. Some will already be qualified; however, you or your qualified personnel will have to train the others.”

What about our military personnel? Being National Guard, most already have a civilian occupation,” Sanchez asked. “Hell, some of the enlisted personnel owned businesses. A sergeant could well be the employer of his platoon leader in the reserves.”

That is true. You are free to staff your departments with active duty members of Kellahan’s military department, however, only as embedded military with their primary allegiance remaining with Major Kellahan. The point is that our young soldiers from the 17th Sustainment Brigade, 991st Aviation Troop Command, and the 1st Squadron, 221st Cavalry Regiment provide us with a joint force unit of soldiers and airmen highly trained and experienced in domestic chemical, biological, or nuclear events.” She thumped her forefinger on the arm of her chair for emphasis. “However, they must train for something different should we ever find peace. This applies to our motor pool personnel from the 593rd Transportation Company.”

Obviously Schwartz, our former S-2 from Joint Force Headquarters is not among us today. I assume he will handle intelligence since he remained at the IC.”

Yes, all intelligence will be handled from the mountain. As you all know, Major Kellahan commanded the 92nd Civil Support Team for weapons of mass destruction. This makes him highly qualified to help you with your selections. Use his experience with his specially trained people. Remember that we already have some proven leaders, these being the OCS graduates at the mountain. Also, keep in mind the two CIA UAV design specialists from Area 51. There is no telling what useful knowledge they possess. We mentioned earlier the colonel wanting us to develop aerial vehicles for individual travel. This might be a place for these guys.”

Barlow turned her attention to Hayes. “Jack, I want you to continue with training. You must ensure everyone in this community continues with cross training, especially now that we are focusing on industrial reconstruction. Work with the other departments to schedule their people to serve both as instructors in their profession and as students to learn the others’ trades.”

Jack leaned back in his chair with an exaggerated look of shock on his face. “Here it comes, fellows. Here comes the old shaft. Barlow is about to slip us the bad news that we have to train the brains.”

They all grinned, and Barlow laughed and pretended guilt. “The best for last, boys. Yes, you are getting all those my mother warned me about — the chosen ones of the bastards who put us in this position. That coward, Carlos, brought to us wearing Department of Homeland Security colors set a good example when he murdered our people. You are getting 17 DOE scientists, 22 HLS, 6 DOD, and 7 Wackenhut from the brains department. The Colonel stole a few who wanted to return to the mountain, but you are stuck with the rest. There will be some good ones and some, who, as the colonel always says, can’t find their ass with both hands.”

The group remained silent and thoughtful as they mulled in their minds the challenge of dealing with the former government employees, most not knowing anything helpful under the current circumstances.

Barlow added, “Calhoun, my chief of staff will also serve as adjutant. He will manage human resources administration and liaison with my office. He will also serve as commissioner over our currency exchange. He will need your input on setting compensation rates for our various trades. This will be much more challenging to achieve than was Obamacare. It will be a job more demoralizing than any of yours.”

Thus far, Calhoun had remained silent and listened. Barlow could tell by his frown that he wanted to say something. “Raymond, it is your nickel. We are listening.”

Calhoun’s frown persisted as he spoke. “A few of our people have businesses that will serve us well. For that, they will receive compensation for services performed or for product produced. Under what financial mechanism will we compensate those, especially the brains, choosing to go the entrepreneur or inventor route?”

Everyone looked at Calhoun, but no-one volunteered a suggestion.

He continued but did so in a manner suggesting his expressing occurring thoughts. “Our businessmen and women did business out of an unoriginal business or product idea regardless of whether it is his original idea or borrowed from someone else. On the other hand, an entrepreneur is an inventor who invests time, energy, and money on his idea. He or she starts on a startup while a businessman starts with a business. What happens if his idea does not work? Does he starve?”

Barlow looked on with interest. “I see your point. My husband had an electrical business before the EMP. That is something that we need, and he can resume as a livelihood and being his boss. From what I’ve seen, entrepreneurs are more concerned about changing the world, pursuing their passion, and achieving an ultimate goal.”

Barlow paused, her mind searching for an example. “We must encourage our people to seek new product amendable to our new way of life. DuPont chemist Kwolek, the woman who discovered Kevlar, is a good example. She developed the lightweight, stronger than steel fiber that we have worn as helmets and body armor for years. People like her do not do it for financial return. They focus on what they can offer to the world. Their purpose for entrepreneurship is simply to make a difference in this world. Lord only knows that we need that now.”

I certainly have my doubts about most of our brains being worth a damn at business,” Hayes said in a tone suggesting his disgust. “In my opinion, working for the government or a large corporation breeds dependency produces bean counters. Entrepreneurs, on the other hand, are like skydivers. They take crazy risks. Unfortunately, they often do not care about losing time and money. However, they do things that they love the most, and do it with the best of themselves, resulting in greater success. An entrepreneur sees the world as a duty rather than an opportunity. History defines the success that he accomplishes.”

Barlow smiled at Calhoun. “Welcome to my world of tough decisions, Ray. We’re sure you will come up with a solution.” She addressed the others.

How do you suggest we billet everyone? Do you want our people segregated or grouped in any way?”

No one answered, so Barlow pondered her question for a moment before saying. “We allowed grouping because, for many, the protected, in particular, we had nothing to keep them occupied. Birds of a flock grouped together and never actually got to know the others socially. Now, everyone will have a job and cross-trained into other professions. I say no segregation. This includes families with children. I want everyone to share responsibility for the welfare of our children. They are our future. As we age, we need assurances that today’s children will have the inclination and expectation of caring for us, the elderly and handicapped.”

WGACA. What goes around comes around,” Calhoun muttered.

Yes, exactly. It is up to us to establish precedent and standards for our youth to follow.” She stood and shouldered her weapon. “Let’s look at what we have to work with here and discuss this further over coffee. We have only scratched the surface regarding what we have to do.”

 

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The midnight radio conversation with the Israeli submarine was the first news received in over four years. Those hearing the exchange sat silent, each digesting the implications of what they had just learned. It raised more questions than it did to provide answers to the world’s state. “Did this small group now represent what remained of a once great nation?” “Were they merely a band of survivors, a village, community, or tribe?” Sammie stood first, looked at the others, and said, “I suggest we get some rest and address this in the morning.”

Bradley, so deep in thought that he merely nodded, walked to the alcove exit with Sarge in tow. He stopped and turned to the Bronsons. “Have Jer here 0800 hours.”

Bradley spent a restless night, his mind weighing what he had learned from the conversation with the submarine crew, information that dashed his hopes of friendly immigrants emerging to join his survivor group. Dashed were his hopes of American ships returning to their homeland with their crews joining them.

Sometime during the night, his thoughts had turned to his people at Nellis. The mere mention of the survivors unionizing had undermined his faith in the VIPs sheltered inside the mountain after the EMP. Thoughts of anyone wanting to form a union reeked of the politicians whose socialist thinking had weakened America to the point someone would dare attack it. He returned to sleep thinking such thinking was in effect cancer on the others, cancer that he would not allow to exist, much less grow.

Doctor Bradley, Captain Bronson, Mr. Bronson,” Bradley greeted them, his raspy voice expressing an upbeat tone when they walked in the next morning.

This is not fair, Dad, you're addressing us by titles. How can we respond if we don’t know what you are these days,” Jer joshed back. He made a point of scanning his eyes up and down Bradley’s body, from his western hat to his cowboy boots. “Are you a sir, Colonel, czar, or what? We see a cowboy.”

Smart ass. When you learn the answer, please let me know. Come in and take a seat. We need to pick your brains.” He waved his hand to indicate Sammie, Raymond, and himself needing to know.

Sammie and Raymond exchanged glances, sharing an unspoken message wondering about Bradley’s high spirits. “Did you receive some good news, Dad?” She looked at the monitors and radiation level reading outside. “I see we got a fresh blanket of black snow.”

Bradley plopped into his chair with a sign, an indication of his spirited greeting fading away

No. I woke up this morning thinking of my fortune having my family with me. Can you imagine the chances of Stacey and me being here in Nevada with the two of you when the EMP struck?”

He turned to Jer. “Son, I realize that you are new to medicine, but I need your help. What I tell you is not to be repeated at this point.” He told Jer about the ocean waste headed for the West Coast. “You may confer with the other doctors if needed, but do so in a what-if scenario. We have a ton of reference books in the digital library for your research if needed.”

All three anxiously awaited Jer’s answer while he mulled the situation.

The answer is pretty basic. Pathogens such as viruses, bacteria, or fungi can spread as an airborne disease through the air. In some cases, strong winds will carry anthrax, chickenpox, influenza, measles, smallpox, and tuberculosis airborne, however, most of these spread by coughing or sneezing. I suppose a strong wind might carry a virus wind borne even before it mutates much as it does radiation attached to dust and debris. I would be equally concerned about our animals. Foot-and-mouth disease virus spreads wind borne over land or water. I would be nervous about an avian disease such as Newcastle disease that affects domestic poultry. It transmits via airborne contamination. I think we should discuss this with our veterinarian. You say this is classified? I would think the others should know.”

There is more, Jer,” Sammie said softly. She looked at Bradley. “Dad, I think Jer, the veterinarian, and Don Pierce should know.”

You are right,” said Bradley, somberly. “Jack and Charlene already know, and Mitchell should also know since he works here in the IC. Doctor, is your schedule clear enough to accompany us to the south portal.”

I had planned on being there this morning anyway. This is a neuter day. Doc Kimberly and I are teaching youngsters how to neuter an animal. We have everything for them to learn on kittens, puppies, lambs, and one bull calf that will taste just as good as the one we cooked at the barbecue the other night. I get to practice my skills and both we doctors teach the kids, and each other, different techniques and how to apply them to caring for humans.”

Raymond looked observantly up and down the tunnel. “Looks as if the handcar is in use at the other end. We have a choice of walking or bicycles.”

During the stocking immediately after the EMP, a bicycle outlet store in Las Vegas had donated three truckloads of bicycles — no one realizing how invaluable they would be for transport in a tunnel stretching for 5 miles.

Sammie made the decision, “Bicycles. I have to get back to rescue Sarah. I stuck her with watching Thomas Junior this morning.”

No need to bullshit us, Sammie. You are just in a hurry to get back to the shooting gallery so you can beat me in a shooting contest.”

Well, that too,” she admitted. Her voice became flirty. “A girl must stay in shape you know.”

Raymond and Bradley chuckled at her inferring her staying in shape being by maintaining her proficiency with a sniper weapons system.

Outside the ordnance alcove, Bradley stopped and dismounted from his bicycle. “You guys go ahead. I want to inspect our ordnance storage. Sarge and I will catch up.”

For a bit, no one spoke as they continued. Raymond broke the silence. “Sam, Jer, what is the news last night going to do to your dad. He was so intent upon establishing satellite contact with other survivors.”

I think with this unexpected El Nino factor adding to the season changes brought by the nuclear winter is forcing him, all of us for that matter, to commit to the reconstruction and rebuilding under some very dangerous circumstances. He is worried sick about the people at base camp. Dad knows people. He had no say in those the government chose to survive the EMP, and he sees major cracks in the adaptability of many of them. He, you, or I would have chosen pioneering types and culled out the pantywaists that squeal and hop onto a chair when they see a mouse or a spider.”

Raymond mulled her reply in his mind. “He has been trying to act laid back since shifting the responsibility of caring for the civilians to Barlow and her people. Here, he could maintain control, but with us split, he cannot control what happens at base camp. However, you know him. He still feels responsible for everyone. This will never change. This is the way he is — what makes him the leader who enabled the survival of all of us. His losing your mom took a lot out of him.”

Sammie swerved her bicycle to dodge a large dog poop in the tunnel. “We have far too much backyard now and to few screw-ups to maintain it,” said she, observantly, referring to animal cleanup formerly being a chore for working off minor infractions. “I think what is worrying him most is his not knowing exactly who or what enemy to prepare for. Watch out for the rocks.”

They all maneuvered around pieces of broken rock in their path while looking up at the rock ceiling above them for others that might be ready to fall.

She continued. “Just as we obtained the means of obtaining a warning of when to expect radiation shutting us down, along comes El Nino. He never saw this storm coming. We came out of the mountain expecting encounters with roving bands of survivors only to find the Muslim Brotherhood moving in. Now that we have driven this threat away, what should we prepare for next? Our enemies are like weeds. They sprout and rise each spring.”

Raymond noted when Sammie unconsciously shifted from this being her dad’s concerns and responsibilities to them being hers as well.

Jer listened but said nothing. Instead, he mulled the new threat of the El Nino winds transporting all the world’s viruses into Nevada. He imagined the effect of it gaining influence over the Great Pacific garbage patch, an ugly mass of marine pollution the size of the state of Texas. “What did he and the other doctors need to do to protect the people? Did they have vaccines for all the viruses that might be coming? What about the animals upon which the survivors’ food chain depended for meat, milk, and eggs?” He said, “Sis, you mentioned that there is more. Care to elaborate?”

Jer, I think Dad should do that. I think he will want to include Pierce and Dr. Kimberly when he does.”

The animal kingdom sounds grew louder as they rounded a gentle curve in the tunnel with a straight shot to the south portal door. On the tunnel’s south end, the raging storm’s noise outside overrode the sounds from an air ventilation duct especially added to carry out the obnoxious smells associated with this end. They could hear the sounds of ranchers and farmers merrily going about their chores.

As they drew close, they could hear the sounds of families visiting while they went about their work, and the infant children playing in a protected area within sight of a family member. Jer slid his bicycle to a stop, and the others did as well.

Let’s wait for the old man and Sarge,” he said. The three of them turned their bicycles to give them a view of the turn in the tunnel and for the sight of Bradley and his dog catching up with them. They spun their bikes around and joined him as he passed.

Upon arrival, Bradley’s entourage noted his immediate transformation to his ranching upbringing, his whispery voice becoming a bit stronger, and a bit of cockiness appearing in his mannerism as he blended into the small group of families initially evacuated from Beatty.

He waited until the excitement of his arrival wore off before inconspicuously drawing Pierce and the vet away to talk to them. Jer, Sammie, and Raymond slipped away to join them as well.

Dr. John Kimberly was a tall, lanky individual, a true cowboy appearing man in his early 30s, raised in the state of Alaska where he received his Doctor of Veterinary degree. He had practiced with the Alaskan Fish and Game Department before hanging his shingle in Beatty a little over ten years ago. Neither he nor any of the others said a word as Bradley somberly told about the communications with the submarine and what, in his opinion, this knowledge implied.

He concluded by saying, “I see no benefit from our dropping this knowledge and burden on Governor Barlow and the others at base camp at this point. They have enough problems as it is. Don, I feel you need to know so you can observe the livestock for any signs of illness, and John, I want Jeb and you to know so you can take precautions for both our people and our animals.”

Bradley never noticed his ordering them to carry on out of habit from his years in command, but the others did.

Yes, sir.”

The ride back to the north portal was much more somber than the ride to the south portal. In a very short briefing, Bradley had exposed and shared another heavy burden for them all to carry, a new threat that they must worry about.

Sir, Governor Barlow called,” Charlene called out when she heard Bradley enter the IC after visiting the south portal. ‘She sounded happy. You can see the empty area on the computer screen from where the residents relocated outside the shelter and onto the first floor. The microphone is muted.”

He performed his automatic scan of outside radiation level readings, outside camera images on the monitor, and Mitchell’s meteorology updates on the big screens before setting down to view the laptop’s connection to base camp. He watched the activity for a moment before clicking on the mute icon to activate the computer microphone. Seeing a dependent wife passing by with a load of personal items, he called out to her, “Jody, would you let the governor know the outpost in on the net.”

Yes, sir.” She moved out of camera sight yelling for Governor Barlow, “Ma’am, Colonel Bradley is asking for you on the net.”

Seconds later, Barlow’s face appeared on his computer screen. “Colonel,” she said in a low whisper. “I have my space back. Everyone is moving upstairs except my cabinet and me. I’m keeping our offices in the shelter, so we still have access to everything for when we have to take shelter.”

It is Tom, not colonel,” he said in mild admonishment. “So you are losing your whorehouse,” he joked.

Her tone of voice sharpened, and she drew closer to the computer camera so he could hear her whisper. “Are you kidding? That stopped after the first night. It has been nothing but bickering, kids bawling, verbal abuse, bitching and moaning ever since the first night. The least little thing irritates someone, even me. I hope them having private quarters, and some privacy will fix that. It may all ignite again in a week or so when we publish work assignments, resume training and schooling, and introduce our monetary compensation plan.” Her voice turned to a conspiring whisper. “We are not telling our people about all of this until they settle in. They have enough on their plates just getting settled in with their kith.”

I agree. Pick your time and place to tell them.” Bradley thought, “If she only knew what he was hiding from her for the same reason.”

 

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