He walked to the edge of the onetime village and saw where Cam was looking with his weapon at the ready. From the tree line, some few hundred yards out, there came a man walking while waving a white flag. Several other soldiers came near.
“Keep at the ready but no one fire unless I say so,” Wallace ordered.
When the man was close enough to be heard, he lowered the flag and spoke. “Is your name Wallace?”
Surprised at hearing his name from a complete stranger, Wallace answered, “Yeah. How would you know that?”
“You know someone named Bishop?”
“Keith Bishop,” Wallace asked.
“He never did say his first name. We usually only use one out here ourselves. His was Bishop; said he came from your mountain base.”
“Where is he,” Wallace asked.
“I think that is what we need to talk about. I’d like to speak with you before you destroy anything else we’ve worked so hard on,” Weston said, not unfriendly, but trying to set the tone of the discussion.
He thought it over and decided there was no harm in talking, “Come ahead,” Wallace said.
As he got closer, they could clearly see he was an American. Aside from a full red beard, and well-worn clothing, he looked as normal as they did. When it was obvious to them that he had no weapon on his person, they relaxed noticeably though they remained alert to their surroundings for any surprises.
“My name is Weston,” he said “former Commander United States Navy. I came here with my crew, the crew of a Russian sub, and many others who joined us on the way during the great event, as we call it. About twenty-five percent of our original numbers survived until now. There are a little more than eight hundred of us here. If you insist on murdering us, we’ll have no choice but to defend ourselves. None of you will make it out of here alive. Sure, you’ll kill a lot more of us, than we will you, but you’ll still die. And for what?”
Wallace looked at him, ‘You killed our men. They were here to establish contact with you, and you murdered them.”
“If that is what you heard, I’m afraid you are mistaken. I wouldn’t think someone trying to make contact with us would try to sneak in through a remote part of the valley, one hour after midnight, if it was for the purpose of simply making contact with us.”
Wallace thought that over, and could not deny the logic. They were not briefed on many of the specifics on what unfolded that night. “Get Carson over here,” he ordered. One of the soldiers left to find him. A few moments later they returned.
“Yes sir,” Carson said to Wallace.
“You were here when our guys were killed. Where and what time of day was it?”
“It was late, after midnight. East of here… steep valley, only a single trail down the draw.”
“Alright, go back to what you were doing.”
“Yes sir.”
“Okay, so what now. Do you just expect us to apologize, leave, and call it even,” Wallace asked.
“I’d expect you to take a little time to think about what you are doing. Why do you think you were sent here, to retaliate against us for killing your men? Do you think we are so bold here as to look for more danger than we already face? You think we want to attack our own kind with swords and spears while they have bombs and machine guns?”
Wallace did think about that now. At first, the mission seemed straightforward. But now, things were changing.
“We’re just trying to survive out here. There is enough trouble to be found without looking for more. We welcome you into our valley, but we’ll not leave what we’ve worked so hard to establish.”
Wallace was becoming more unsure of himself. He decided to move on to a subject he was more comfortable with. “You mentioned Bishop. Where is he?”
“He’s back at your mountain. He’s the one who described you to me, and explained how you would attack our village,” Weston said with a smile.
Wallace returned the smile now understanding why this was unfolding the way it was.
“He said he had a score to settle with his father. He and his wife were expelled from the mountain. Said it was something his wife found out about, but that his father wanted kept hidden. When he came here, she was not with him. I can imagine where she is,” Weston said evenly. “He told me this before he left. I can only guess it was for your benefit, more than it was mine.”
“Damn,” Wallace said.
“He said you are a good man and have a good head on your shoulders. He wanted me to think well of you to see if we should let you live.”
“Let me live,” Wallace said incredulously.
“Yes. By now, I don’t know how he was going to do it, but he said he would seal up the mountain for a time. Said he would get his message across ‘loud and clear’ to those inside. There is no way you could get back inside anytime soon, and by the time you did, those who sent you would feel you are just as contaminated as the rest of us.” Weston paused letting that sink into, not only Wallace, but also the others who had gathered around before he continued, “That wouldn’t make you any different than us.”
“I’ll be damned,” Wallace said shaking his head in disbelief of how this day was unfolding.
“He said you were smart enough to come to the right conclusion. So what is it?”
“Hey Sarge,” Cam said interrupting the conversation, “Look.”
Along the edge of the tree line, men, women, and children could be seen from one corner of the village to the other. Some were haggard in appearance, others looked normal. They were of all ages, sizes, and shapes. They had no weapons in hand as they stood there looking at their attackers. While the soldiers remained at the ready, not one of them thought about shooting at what they were conditioned to see as innocent civilians.
Wallace looked at Weston, “Say I believe you. I’m still gonna need more than your word alone.”
“Okay,” Weston agreed.
“I’ll stay here with my men, you keep your people away, and we’ll see if Bishop returns.”
“Fair enough.”
“Just keep your people back. We’ll have a guard posted. If we perceive anything as a threat, we’ll defend ourselves,” Wallace assured him.
“Mr. Wallace. Welcome to our valley. When Bishop comes back we’ll get together again and see what help you and your men will be in putting this village back together again,” Weston said as he stood, and offered his hand.
Wallace shook it and smiled as he picked up on the similarities in behavior between this man, and one who he both worked with, and respected more than most others.
TWELVE
Two days after the explosions, the infirmary counted six dead, and dozens more wounded. The fires had been extinguished, and most activities returned to normal aside from the reconstruction efforts. Shock and frustration were the dominant emotions. Out of the disarray, several older men, along with their long-time assistants, stepped to the fore to assume control of everyday operations. When they regained a semblance of order, men were sent to arrest Director Bishop. He had not been seen, or heard from, since the announcement and subsequent actions of his son.
A search of his quarters yielded nothing so they moved on to his office. When they arrived, they found the outer door locked, but could see through the glass window that his assistant was inside. After refusing several attempts to persuade him to open the door, one of the men found a discarded fire extinguisher lying on the ground, and threw it through the plate glass. It shattered the window sending shards into the office. Two men went through the window, one after the other, and physically assaulted Lucas until he no longer offered resistance. Then, while the first man held him down, the second opened the door for the others.
The door to Bishop’s office was not a solid metal door like the one they came through, but it was still locked.
