He got in underneath the shotgun and pushed Long onto his butt. It shocked the hell out of him to see a Humvee roll by. The pair of them nearly went under the tires.
The other man was much younger than him, but Brent had the experience and weight. He’d fallen on top of him and rung his bell. His next move was to wrap his thick hands around Long’s tiny neck.
“Die, you sick son of a bitch.”
Long kicked and squirmed, but there was no way Brent was going to let go. A pair of explosions shook the ground, though he barely heard them. They’d hit rather close, but he didn’t care about himself.
Two of his men rallied to him, offering to help.
“Run, you guys! Get inside the tunnel before those Hellfires hit you!” He figured the black Humvee was drawing the heavy ordnance. They would be dead men if they didn’t find hard cover by the time one of the tankers took a hit.
His heart came up his throat as he fought to stay on top of the struggling man. A black mist swirled around the edges of his vision as the singular focus at killing his enemy exacted a physical toll.
“We got this, boss.” Kevin, his small black friend, had a large M1911 pistol pointed at Long’s head.
“Yeah, let him up so we can off him,” Andre added.
Brent pumped air like a locomotive, still gripping Long’s throat. “Not necessary, my friends. This little puke has been put down like the dog he is.”
He dropped the dead man and finally looked up. “Please. Run into the tunnel. I’ll be there in a second. I just need to see—” The words stuck in his voice box as he glanced over to Trish. There was no doubt about her condition.
He scurried over, killing his knees in the act of dropping by her side. “Trish!”
She opened her eyes at hearing her name.
“You’re alive!” he declared.
“Am I?” she asked matter-of-factly. “I can’t feel anything below my ears.” She tried to laugh, but it came out as a croak.
Brent caught sight of his two friends, still standing behind him. He was mad they weren’t going for cover, but it also made him feel good knowing they were there.
“Rest,” he replied. “I’m so sorry about all of this.” The shotgun blast had devastated her side. Blood pooled on the ground next to her. If he’d intended to put compression on her wounds, he would need a queen-sized pillow. All he could do was take her hand and hold it tight.
She spoke in a low voice. “No. I’m sorry. I should have told you I was offered a bribe. I thought about it a lot, too, but I didn’t want you to think less of me once the world changed. I never imagined—”
“I forgive you, kid. I forgive you. I always thought of you like the daughter I never had. Truth be told, there’s nothing you could do that I wouldn’t forgive. I love you.” His salty old eyes let go of a few tears.
She smiled weakly, but she looked behind him for a second.
A strange sound, almost a tiger-like growl, came in on the wind.
Brent had enough time to turn his head.
A long, thin aircraft went by like a lightning bolt.
Then his story ended in light.
NORAD, Cheyenne Mountain Entrance, CO
Ted screamed to those close by. “There’s a nuclear missile heading for us. Does anyone know how to work the freaking door out there?”
There were dozens of dictators and generalissimos, but none of the black pajama soldiers. He couldn’t fathom why it worked out that way, but someone had to know how to operate the place. Right?
The PA system came to life with a woman’s computer voice. “WARNING: NUCLEAR STRIKE INBOUND.”
To his surprise, the outer door began shutting, almost as if on voice command.
“Thank God!” he said to himself, glad it was happening.
He retreated into the inner vault, which turned out to be a good idea. The men had gathered and were pushing it shut. He doubted they would have waited for him if he’d stayed outside, even for a second.
Ted caught the attention of one of the portly gentlemen watching the activity at the door. Clearly, he was from one of the banana republics south of the border. He wore an ornate red ribbon around his neck and had two dozen pins, medals, and gold medallions attached to his oversized uniform shirt. His interest wasn’t in his awards, however. “Can you tell me why you all came here together? I’m, uh, from a different post.”
“David invited us. We are to each get a new country for our people. Mine is to be Missouri!” He tried to stand up, proud at his statement, but he couldn’t overcome the slouch of his roundness, so he went back to leaning against the wall.
Silently, he thought maybe David had done a bit of a double-cross, but he didn’t want to give himself away.
“Well, good luck.”
The man waved him away like a peasant.
Wanting to get away from the enemy, he looked for a place to retreat. There was a short hallway leading to a larger cavern, which he assumed was where he would find all the NORAD structures. He grabbed Emily’s hand and dragged her away from the activity near the door. When they were clear of the men, he whispered, “It might not be enough. I saw the outer door closing, but it moves slow. If it doesn’t get all the way shut, we might still get snuffed out. This bunker is really old.”
She stopped him. “Are you saying this might be it? The end?”
He put on a brave face. “I was going to run deeper into the complex. It might give us the extra protection we need—”
Emily put a finger to his lips.
“But—” he tried to reply.
“Shh.” She smiled.
