have been removed and no one is in sight. We park the Strykers in a triangle pointing outward with the Humvees in the center. I have Lynn call Cabelas to fill them in. With the vehicles idling, we wait.
“I was kind of hoping the SEAL Team would have joined us. It seems we could really use them,” Robert says as we wait.
“Yeah, I thought the same thing and was this close to trying to talk them into it,” I say, holding my pointer finger a hair’s breadth from my thumb. “We really could use their expertise. However, Captain Leonard needs them even more. They are his only combat force with training. They would be a welcome addition, especially seeing the night runners seem to be adapting quickly.”
“Ah, sir, we don’t need ‘em. We have Red Team and we can handle a bunch of sweaty runners,” Gonzalez says poking her head through the opening.
“Please tell me you don’t have a ‘hooah’ coming somewhere,” I plead.
“What would ever give you that indication, sir?” She responds.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it,” I say.
“Hooah, sir,” she says with a wink and disappears back through the open hatch.
An hour passes and the clouds thin in places showing a hint of sun above. Sam finally radios that they are ready and making their way to us. A line of vehicles, trucks, cars, and moving vans, appear from a side road and enter the highway with Sam’s pickup in the lead. Sam parks, steps out, and walks over to us.
“I hope there are no hard feelings, captain,” he says extending his hand.
“None here and I hope for the same on your end,” I say accepting his shake.
“No. We have one grieving wife that will have to be cared for. She went into hysterics but the doc sedated her,” he states.
“You have a doctor with you?” I ask.
“More of a family doctor, but yeah,” he replies.
“Good to have. We only have medics with us and could certainly use him or her.”
“I’m sure he’d be happy to help. So, what would you like for us to do?”
“Just follow along. I’ll have some units behind you in case someone breaks down and for protection. We’re pretty cramped at the moment but we’ll see you situated once we arrive. How many are with you?” I ask.
“I don’t have a firm count, but we have about forty all told,” he answers.
I direct one Stryker and Lynn to bring up the rear of our now larger caravan. We set out across the bridges and south toward home. I can’t believe it’s only early afternoon as it feels like a couple of days have passed. I plan to meet with the group when we return and then settle in for a nap. The day is only partially over. There is a night flight to take and I want us to be rested for another long night of work. Each step we take brings us closer to an eventual safe haven. If something like that can even exist.
We snake south down I-5 and through the gates. I have McCafferty and Gonzalez exit on our entrance to the parking lots to direct the vehicles following into a farther lot. I pull into the lot where the other Humvees are parked. The Strykers park adjacent. The large maintenance and vehicle storage garage Bannerman had started is near completion and we’ll soon park our vehicles under cover. We’ll then bring down additional vehicles from Fort Lewis and store them here. Those will be in addition to the ones we now have in the hangars and maintenance buildings up north.
The new group gathers just outside in the chilly, damp weather. With Frank’s assistance, Bannerman makes his way to orient them and assign them places. I know I’m going to hear about the overcrowding and barracks at our meeting. And, to be honest, with the new additions, it’s time we address it. With the winter and shorter days coming, meaning longer periods crowded indoors, tempers will flare. Bannerman was right to bring this up early on. It just seemed like there was always something else to do. There still is and I don’t see how we are going to be able to do this with everything else, but we also have more hands to help. And, we now have a doctor and another pilot. Not that the pilot aspect will be useful for much longer but we can rig speakers up to a light aircraft and cover more ground in our search for other survivors.
With Sam’s group, we are now around two hundred and fifty people. I’m not sure of the exact number on a sub, but if Captain Leonard joins us after his trip, that number could reach four hundred. That’s enough to do some serious work in a hurry. I almost wish that Leonard wasn’t heading back out. Although it would be nice to have more intelligence on what is going on in other places, he has a crew trained in a variety of useful areas. It will be nice when he returns. Hopefully he will see for himself what is going on and relax some on the rank thing. I once again wish there was someone with qualifications to take over. I’d like to just take a backseat for a while on the other hand, I also know that isn’t in my mentality. No, we push on, build a secure place around us, make it survivable in the long-term, and then I’m grabbing my fishing pole. Yep, with a hammock and a cooler at my side. I sigh at the pleasant thought knowing that’s what it is — just a daydream of things that will never be. I close my door and head inside with Robert.
Captain Raymond Leonard watches as the Strykers and Humvees carrying Captain Walker’s troops drive up the paved street and vanish over the ridge. The sounds of the vehicles gradually fade until only the sounds of the lapping waves are heard. He thinks over the interesting morning and conversation. Interesting is putting it mildly. He lost seven crew members today because of his decision. He realizes now that he dove beneath the waves off the Philippine shore and rose to a completely different world, one he would never have imagined possible and doesn’t quite understand. The world he once knew and loved being a part of has disappeared to become an alien one. He has a fleeting thought of staying until he understands better what they are facing but he needs to see it for himself, and not just this little corner. His mind still can’t wrap around the idea that this is world-wide.
“Come on, chief, let’s get below,” he says, turning toward the gangway.
“Aye, aye, sir,” Krandle replies, turning with him.
Back on the bridge, Leonard watches as the crew leaves the deck to the stations or quarters below with the exception of those casting the lines off. Backing slowly away from the docks he has docked at for years, he clears the nets and turns the Santa Fe into the channel. As they make their way across the gentle waves, he briefs his XO on the events. Leonard knows that the scuttlebutt will be making its rounds among the crew about now.
“Are we going to close the nets, sir?” his XO asks.
“No. There’s no real need now,” Leonard states, understanding the finality of his statement. With those words, his mind shifts away from the world he was has known.
“Sir, shall we prepare to dive the boat?” The XO asks.
A melancholic feeling settles within Leonard. “No, XO, we’ll make the run on the surface. I want to see things with my own eyes and feel the fresh breeze for once. It’s not often that we’ve had the chance to do this and I want to enjoy it.”
The sad feeling departs to an extent as he looks over the black hull of his boat making its way into the strait. The pride he has always had with his sub rises as does his love of the sea; his love of all waters. It’s in his bones and he’s loved every minute at sea regardless of the situation or mission. He’s always run a tight ship and it shows. He’s proud of his boat and his crew. They’ve made it through many sticky situations before and they’ll make it through this one. Fresh supplies will be his only problem. Maybe they can keep coming back here and restocking. He’s not sure how many supplies Captain Walker and his soldiers have but they seem confident enough with what they have. He likes the captain but turning over command, his command, to someone else goes against every fiber he has.
“I’m going below for a moment to make an announcement. Keep us off the rocks, please,” Leonard says to his XO with a grin.
“Aye, aye, sir.”
In the control room, Captain Raymond Leonard, commander of the fast attack sub, Santa Fe, picks up the mic about to make the strangest announcement of his life. For one of the few times in his life, he feels at a loss of words. There’s so much to say yet so little.
“Attention all hands, this is the captain speaking. I’m sure you have all heard a story or two by now. I would delay this until the stories get really good and run a contest on the best one but I’m sure the one I’m about to tell you tops them all… As you may already know, we lost seven good men today. Men we lived beside, laughed with, and counted on. There will be services held on deck at 15:00. Now, for the rest. At some point during our transit
