“Right. I forgot. Shamus was a professor at MIT. What hasn’t that man done?” said Colonel Starkes.
She glanced at their pilot with newfound respect, making a mental note to better explore this aspect of his career in the future. The dossier had glossed over these facts when she viewed them back at Mt. Storm.
“So, lemme get this straight. You and Shamus think another fishing expedition is in order? Even though these fishing expeditions have resulted in nothing that we can use in finding Connor MacMillen?”
“And the possible military presence may indicate a number of potential recruits.”
“I’m not sure that I’m as optimistic as you, major, but proceed with your plans to contact the local leaders. Major?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Don’t lose sight of our primary objective. We’ve located Nicole and her child. Our primary objective at this point remains CJ’s safety. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course.”
“Okay, major. Instruct Shamus to set this bird down away from hostile infiltration. You and five men of your choosing can contact the leader of this small community—the rest of the men will remain with the helicopter. You have six hours to complete your mission. If you’re not back by that time, we’ll leave without you.”
“Yes, ma’am. Understood.”
Nicole stared out the window, enjoying the helicopter ride immensely. She had always wanted to do this, but gave up hope after the Sickness had effectively grounded all air traffic. She glanced at Major O’Malley who was trying his best not to stare at her. She covered her mouth to hide her smile—she was pleased with his attention. He was easy on the eyes and it was clear to her that he felt an attraction. She wondered if he had someone back at Camp David.
CHAPTER 1.16-Brown Two-story with Green Trim
“Which one?” asked Amanda.
“The brown two-story with the green trim. See that ‘tot finder’ sticker in the upper left window?”
“Okay, I see it.”
“I thought I heard something. Maybe a voice.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” said Amanda.
They were well hidden near a batch of weeds and rock that used to be rear-wall landscaping before returning to nature.
“It’s your sub-hunting trip. Your mission. You call it from here, Snuff.”
She scanned the surroundings carefully with her binoculars for a few moments and made a decision. “We go, but we avoid that house. There’s a white house with red trim at the end of that road. That one is promising. Let’s keep that as our target. We’ll move another fifty yards and determine if it’s still a good target.”
“Point of egress?”
“We use the cover of the neighboring house, swing set, deck, and back deck to avoid any surveillance.”
“Not bad, Snuff. But you’re not considering tripwires and other warning devices. Check there again,” said Connor, pointing toward the house.
“Where?”
“Near the swing set.”
Amanda lifted her binoculars and studied the area. “Damn,” she said. There was a spider web of barely perceptible fishing line through all of the back yards for eight consecutive properties. It appeared that all the fishing lines tracked to the house from where Connor thought he heard something.
“I don’t know how long ago those warning devices were installed, but I’d say we have to assume likely hostiles. What’s your next move, Snuff?” When, after sixty seconds, Amanda hadn’t answered Connor’s question, he prompted her. “What about it, Snuff?”
“Hold on,” she said, scanning the area with her binoculars. “I’m thinking.”
“You don’t have that fucking luxury!” whispered Connor. “Let’s say you have possible hostiles—you have to make a decision. What are your orders?”
“Regroup at earlier mustering area using all possible stealth. We’ll consider a new approach from there.”
“Understood.”
They faded across the field to the access road and the small wooded area from which they had approached. The woods provided excellent cover without limiting their view of the target house. When they were safely within the trees, Amanda used her binoculars to study the area.
“Was that the best choice I had, Mac?”
“Yeah, definitely. It was time to regroup and make a new plan.”
“I thought you’d want to address the hostiles first.”
“Why do that, Snuff?”
“To get rid of them so we could explore safely without worrying about them.”
“Wrong,” said Connor. “Absolutely wrong. Never assume you’ve made an area safe. That’s a fortress mentality.”
“‘Fortress mentality’? That’s one I haven’t heard yet. What’s it mean, Mac?”
“A soldier can become accustomed to an area where he hasn’t died. Surviving a prolonged siege in a fortress or remaining as part of a group in a bunker that’s survived multiple assaults fosters complacency. And complacency is a soldier’s worst enemy. He begins to feel as if nothing bad can happen to him if he stays in that safe haven. Once he lets his guard down, it’s only a matter of time until he ends up with his throat cut.”
“I guess that makes sense,” said Amanda.
“Do you plan on returning to your target house?” asked Connor.
“If we can do it safely, yes.”
“Egress?” he asked.
She laid out her plan for him. He suggested some minor adjustments, but was pleased with her thought process. They began a cautious approach further east of the target house. Connor nodded and followed. The view had its advantages.
CHAPTER 1.17-Finding the Way
Standing on soft ground, devoid of vegetation, Marty studied the footprints in the soft mud, struggling to comprehend the meaning. The area had served as a reconnaissance base for surveillance of a soybean field, and, more likely, the subdivision beyond. There were two sets of footprints—one was probably a size eleven, but the other was only a size six at best. He walked around the muddy area, viewing it from different perspectives, but nothing shook his conviction that he was on the wrong trail. A man and a boy or a man and, more likely, a woman made these tracks—no way it was Connor and Snuff.
The muddy area resulted from a natural spring. It was running now and Marty had the distinct impression that it never stopped running. The two people belonging to the footprints had likely stopped for fresh water. He crouched to drink from the spring and while he filled his canteen, he wondered where he had lost Connor’s trail. The last place he had been confident in his tracking skills was at the intersection where he discovered the cigarette butts arranged in a makeshift arrow.
Several trail indicators emerged since, but they were all faint—a crushed berry, a broken twig, or maybe a flattened portion of weeds. This was the first time Marty had viable footprints—it hadn’t rained for several days and the ground was hard packed. He needed to backtrack to find out where he’d made his mistake.
Disappointed, he’d hoped to locate Connor and Snuff within the next twenty-four hours, but this would set him back another day, if not more. He considered returning to the highway to retrace his steps and shook his head in disgust. It might be a very long day.
CHAPTER 1.18-A Perimeter Breached
It was dark and the major was having difficulty seeing the captain from three feet away. It was three o’clock in the morning.
“Captain?” whispered Major O’Malley.
“Yes, major?”
“What can you make out?”
“I make seven armed hostiles on perimeter. Four more are armed and directly outside the house. It’s a safe assumption they all have ammunition for their weapons. They’re completing excellent overlapping security routes. There’s a strong sense of military precision and a highly elevated vigilance. It’s unknown how many are inside.”