“Yes, sir.”
Charles was sitting in his unassuming sedan thinking about his employer. The thought of being transported across the expanding wasteland tied up in the trunk of a car or in the back of a filthy truck horrified his refined and dignified sensibilities. Charles would rather be shot than compromise his dignity by being bound, gagged, and blindfolded. Perish the thought.
Charles thought of his employer and was excited about his arrival. He hated Americans with every fiber of his being and was thrilled to assist in their downfall. Charles knew things about the Chinese that Jackson did not. Jackson was wrong on every front. They were not coming as allies to help them defend against Iran; they were coming to conquer and enslave the American people. They needed every resource imaginable—food, water, minerals, timber and, most importantly, land to establish Chinese colonies in order to alleviate the overcrowding caused by their massive population. The Chinese did not view themselves as invaders; they sincerely had the best interest of the entire world at heart. They believed The Great Empire of Iran needed to be stopped at all costs, and the Unified American Empire was in no condition to do so. Once they secured the UAE from east to west and devoured her resources, they would traverse the Atlantic and liberate Europe from the Iranians.
Two superpowers were fighting for control of the world, and the former United States of America was the unwilling pawn in the global chess game.
Dennis Twigg was not ready to be in charge of security. He was happy to be the number two man—plenty of power and influence but never the big chair. Dennis also knew that he could never fill Director Harris’s shoes, no matter how hard he tried. With Max recovering in San Francisco, it was obvious that the director would not be returning to Beck Castle for some time. Dennis knew the job well enough. He had memorized all the protocols put in place by President Beck and Director Harris, but when push came to shove, he was just not a pencil-pusher or an administrator. He was quite proficient in making rounds in the dormitory wing and conducting screening interviews for prospective residents on the quarantine level. Making serious decisions and having to answer for them was something Dennis had never done.
President Beck had summoned him to the command center. Not sure if he should knock, Dennis simply stood there. A few seconds later, the door opened.
“Mr. Twigg, get in here!”
Oh shit! I’m already in trouble!
Dennis had never had an extended conversation with the president. Though they’d met a few times, President Beck never seemed to remember his name. To Howard’s brilliant mind, it was a waste of time and energy to store minute bits of useless information. Only when something was important enough to remember did it get stored in his long-term memory.
“Yes, Mr. President? What can I do for you?”
Howard remained focused on the spherical monitor before him. Dennis couldn’t imagine how the man could process information from a dozen different monitors, but it seemed like he was doing it with ease.
“Howard.”
“Mr. President?”
“Howard, or if you can’t wrap your head around that, call me Mr. Beck. Name the four most competent security personnel on staff.”
“Uh, well, Mr. Beck, let me think…”
“Quickly, Mr. Twigg. This is important.”
“Well, Mr. Beck, I’d have to say Burba, Rodden, Goode, and Bell.”
“We have two high-level prisoners coming to the Castle. I will not tell you in advance who they are. I want you to personally strip search each officer for contraband, to include listening devices or any sort of lethal weapon. They are only to carry restraints and non-lethal deterrents. I want two officers in the detention area and two officers in the security suite at all times. Neither you nor your officers are to speak a word to anyone regarding the identity of the prisoners. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir. When will the prisoners arrive?”
“I’m not sure. Just have your people standing by the detention cell till further notice. Get to work, Mr. Twigg.”
Howard touched the holographic screen in front of him, and the door to the command center opened. Dennis took this as his cue to leave.
Colonel William Sanderson awoke in the back of his beat-up, twelve-year-old mini-van outside a run-down hotel within the secure compound of Oklahoma City. He’d rented a room and had his wife barricade herself and the children inside by pushing the dresser and tables in front of the door. He’d given Lindsay a pistol for added protection. William had lied to Lindsay about why he was going to sleep in the minivan. He wanted to keep an eye on the prisoners in the back of the trailer, but it was not something she needed to know. William had called in a few favors and gotten some powerful sedatives from the base hospital at Fort Polk. Both of his prisoners were sound asleep and had been for twelve hours. He had placed them in a large storage container with several air holes drilled for respiration. William’s only fear was—despite being duct-taped like mummies—they’d wake up and make enough noise to attract unwanted attention.
William woke his family and Chrissy Dupree at 5 a.m. so they could get an early start. Lindsay literally rode shotgun for the duration of their excursion. The shotgun was between her right leg and the door. They had no desire to be robbed or stuck in an ambush without the means to defend themselves. William continued to question his decision to keep Lindsay in the dark about the prisoners. Knowing his wife, she would’ve just become nervous and scared the kids with frantic questions if he’d told her. Surely Lindsay would agree that he’d made the right decision…eventually.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Maxwell Harris woke up in a strange place. At first he thought he was in the infirmary of the cruise ship, but then he looked out the window. After piecing together several hazy memories, he remembered being on the bridge of the Freedom of the Seas with Richard and Captain Konkoly. After that…well here he was.
“Welcome back, sweetie! How do you feel?” Elizabeth planted a tender kiss on his forehead.
“I’ve been better. My back feels like it was hit with a sledgehammer, and my right hip hurts worse than that. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You’re the one in the hospital and you ask how I’m doing? You’re a sweetheart. Now that you’re awake, I couldn’t be better.”
“Richard?”
“He’s fine; he broke his foot when he hit the water.”
“What happened? Was it really the Chinese who attacked us?”
“Looks that way. They sank all three ships. A lot of people are dead.”
“Captain Konkoly?”
Elizabeth shook her head.
“Such a shame. I liked that guy. Where are we?”
“San Francisco. You smashed your L2 vertebra when you hit the wall. They replaced it with an implant.”
“I’d always heard donating bone marrow was painful, but I had no idea. Are we safe from the Chinese?”
“For now. They’ve occupied the city and most of California. They aren’t engaging the civilian population as long as they don’t resist. They wiped out the UAE bases this side of the Rockies.”
“What about home?”
“Safe for now. Hal left a robot for us, but I told him to keep that thing in the parking lot. It scares the shit out of everybody inside. He’s been giving me updates. Howard and Hal managed to erect the EMP shield around the PSA just in time to repel the Chinese. They have some do-hickey that swats down artillery fire around the major cities. Seems like the Chinese are leaving us alone for now while they swallow up the UAE.”