They could never have anticipated that the vaccine itself would alter the DNA and bring about the ruin of their plans. Since the initiation of the first phase, there had been no communication from any of the other sites. Gav believed that no other personnel made it due to the short span of incubation the vaccine had — the deaths and DNA alterations that created the infected ones happened too quickly. Although none of the personnel took the vaccine, she believes that they succumbed to the madness that followed and never had a chance to make it.
She sent parties to some of the nearest sites only to find them sealed up with no one home. Even the military vehicles in storage were of no use as she didn’t have the proper forces to utilize them. She had her own contingent of vehicles, mostly Humvees and Strykers, but the others were useless without the personnel. She had no pilots or any other specialized personnel. Her facility was intended to function as a support compound. They were, in essence, stuck. The leaders of this fiasco were housed in the command facility, but they were still searching for a way to rise from the ashes.
There would still have been a chance if it weren’t for a single failure. They couldn’t communicate with the satellite controlling the nanobot’s signals. They were receiving information from it, but, from all appearances, the receiver aboard wasn’t functioning. They checked all of their equipment to find it working perfectly. Still, the satellite couldn’t receive a signal. Integral checks of the satellite revealed it was working perfectly except for this one, not so minor, glitch. Gav kept technicians working on it night and day, but so far, they haven’t found a solution.
If she could get control of the satellite, she could hopefully eradicate the infected ones, or at least thin them out a little; and then Gav and her group could come out of their facility to implement a modified version of Phase Two. As it is, there is no way they can implement the plan they had gone to bed with, but perhaps there is still a chance. With an exaggerated sigh, she rises, rinses her mug in a small sink, and departs the room to grab something to eat.
The next afternoon, she meets with the control room shift supervisors once again. The one going off shift slides a folder across to the table. Gav opens it as the supervisor begins the brief.
“Nahmer, we did a flyby of camp C-US-4 as you requested. The camp has established their main encampment around a large sporting goods warehouse just to the north of Olympia, Washington. It sits astride Interstate 5 with access to JBLM and Seattle to the north and Portland, Oregon to the south. As you can see in the pictures,” he says as Gav pulls out one of the high definition photographs, “they have erected a concrete wall around the entire facility…at least it appears to be concrete from our analysis. It measures approximately four miles on the long side by one mile wide. The land between the walls is mostly cleared and construction of outer buildings is apparent, with most either completed or nearing completion.”
The supervisor points out several closer shots with only the camp showing. “You can see here,” he points to some of the buildings to the south, “these appear to be barn-type enclosures and we can only speculate that is what they’re being used for. The others are storage and, from their size, they may be for vehicles. There is a large greenhouse along with shipping containers that we can only guess are used for supply storage.”
“Anything on the occupants themselves?” Gav asks, looking at more photographs and the annotations on each.
“We can’t really tell too much from a single pass over, it appears they are branching out. We took video as long as we were able. It looks like they may be searching for other survivors, but they are definitely gathering supplies. They travel in armed convoys whenever they send parties, those armed escorts being Humvees. They have a ready supply of arms and equipment from Fort Lewis to the north. The work groups we identified also have a guard of armed people. We can’t be sure with the one day observation, but there could be up to one hundred and fifty within the camp. Of those, it appears that approximately thirty of them are carrying arms. We also observed military-style training in progress. I’m not hazarding a guess at this point, that’s above my expertise, but if I were to lay money on it, I would say a good majority of those who are armed are, or were, either currently or prior military. This is only my opinion based on the footage we captured,” the supervisor briefs.
Gav only listens. She learned long ago that other’s opinions and thoughts were important. She has already reached the same conclusions merely by looking at the photographs. There is a definite military precision to the camp and in the way they conduct business. It’s what she would be doing.
“Very well. Good job. I want a satellite keyed to that camp. Can we do that?” she asks.
“We can, Nahmer. It will cost some fuel burn, but we can put one of the satellites we aren’t currently using to the task. It’s an older Keyhole satellite. The resolution of the pictures and video won’t be as sharp, but we won’t use up the fuel reserves in our newer ones. With your approval of course,” the supervisor answers.
“Do it. And I want that aircraft kept under constant surveillance as well. I want to know what they’re up to. Any news?”
“They took off early this morning and set down at Cannon AFB. They offloaded two Humvees and set out for the town of Clovis. I might add that they left the D-camp in place at Albuquerque. They met with another group we hadn’t identified and returned to the aircraft. They are still there,” he responds.
“Keep an eye on them. I want to know their every move.” Gav rises to leave.
Walking down the hall to her quarters, she ponders this new group. They have all of the intentions of gathering survivors, or at least meeting with them. She wonders whether these meetings are coincidental or if they have been communicating in some fashion. The airwaves have remained clear, so she isn’t sure. A part of her knows this is what her group should be doing, gathering others, but the secretive nature of her employers has made them overly cautious and paranoid.
However, she does have command of a battalion, complete with armored vehicles, and they aren’t limited to the diesel fuel sources, having been converted to bio-fuels. The vehicles may not have the power they once did, but they’ll function for as long as they have replacement parts and can manufacture the bio-fuel. There is no one who can challenge them, but this camp, C-US-4, has her worried. They have a range and ability she can’t match with regards to aircraft. And, they are at Cannon AFB which houses the fearsome AC-130 aircraft. If they can fly a C-130, they can fly those.
Bird’s Eye View
In the privacy of her own suite, Gav reviews the captured video of the C-130 group in the Southwest. Watching the enhanced surveillance video, she observes the dusk flight and subsequent HALO jump. Viewing the footage, she makes up her mind. She has been thinking about it for a day but, after looking at the replay, she is spurred into action. She calls the command center on her private line.
“Yes, Nahmer. How can I help you?” the supervisor asks, picking up on the second ring.