Chapter 12

17 January 1994

It was now 2330 hours, only seven minutes from Alex’s first, panicky call.

Bear got back on the line, but messaged me privately. ’Can you handle two calls at once?’

’Yeah, I may have to cut out from time to time, but..., yeah. Go ahead,’ I told him.

’Jed was asleep. When I told him it was invasion day, he protested. “That’s not gonna be for three months.” I told him I didn’t make the schedules. He said he’d sound the alarm and get to the McKesson Creek guard house. I think he meant the one at the fence. That’s where we just plugged in the NSB. We didn’t get to set up the other one at McKesson North, yet. And he said to get you to the secret cabin.’

“We can just talk, Bear. It’s easier for me to monitor the mental stuff if we just talk,” I said aloud.

“Oh, sorry...”

“Where should we place the dogs, d’ya think?”

“Jed didn’t say he needed them, so ... How’bout inside the fence at the power station?”

“That’s good! Very good.” We loaded up the northern pack and took them to the power station, inside the fence. There was a pickup full of our guys, packing M16s and body armor getting comfortable in the desert dirt.

“Not a drill this time?” one of them said.

“Afraid it’s the real thing,” I said. He was attaching his branches and twigs outfit – that’s what I called the gillie suit. “The dogs won’t bother you, ‘less you try and get inside the fence.” I smiled at the guys. “So don’t do that ... We gotta go.”

We drove back to the Hacienda and parked. With an armful of M16s we took off at a slow trot for the secret cabin. When we got there, we bolted ourselves in, shut the window shutters, lined up the M16s and the grenades, and turned on the external cameras and sat down to play some cribbage.

I tuned in to Bear and then checked over to Alex and Jim, down south.

’Hi, Mom and BearDad,’ chirped Alexandra, happily. ’They tried to put us in a cave, with two armed guards, but we convinced ‘em that it was WAY too early to put us into a cave.’

’Yeah, so now we’re walking around leading a parade,’ sent Jim. ‘Well, in the middle of a parade. There’s a guy in front, then the dogs, then us, then another guy with a M16. We’re just walking around town. We went over to the hacienda, expecting to see the pack, but they were gone. A. says they’re on guard, inside the inner set of fences, with Uncle Sam.’

’Okay, y’all be good and do what Sam says,’ I sent.

Then I checked in with Linc, silently of course. He wasn’t adjusted yet to having me pop into his mind. I could see and hear what he sensed. He was on his radio. It was 0019 hours 18 January.

“Status check,” he said. The pill boxes checked in from 1 to 20, all with ‘On station’ or ‘Ready here.’

The radio squealed. “Go, B3,” he said.

“B3. I count about 100 tandem axle trucks. Can’t tell the cargo. All are olive green. Looks like Army vehicles. Overflight by a light armored Huey. Say again. 100 truckloads with one Huey chopper. Over.”

“Roger that, B3. We copy,” said Linc. “Wash, we’re staying on Tac 2. You have Tac 3 ... all units on Tac 2. Stay alert. We’re turning off the grid. Stay alert.”

I knew what he was planning and this was the period of maximum threat.

...

Quick check with Jed’s folks.

“We got ‘em now, Control. All our people are inside. There’s about a million of ‘em. Two or three hiding behind every damn tree. Scared all the squirrels up into the trees.”

“Roger,” came from Jed. “Blue, how are they armed?”

“Control, we see a lot of hunting gear, shotguns. Some armed with a sledgehammer or an axe.”

“Roger that, Blue. Gold, anything on your screens?”

“All clear on Gold’s screens, Control.” Gold was in McKesson Creek, monitoring the cameras in the woods.

“Okay. We’re shutting down the grid now, now, now.”

“Roger that.” It was David’s voice. “NSB ready.”

“Switch room, ready.” A voice unknown to me.

“Standby.” That was Jed Somerville.

Looks like we were as ready as we were gonna get.

...

Peeking at Linc again.

“Outside NavEl. Linc, there’s a whole bunch of MF’s unloading here.” That was somebody watching from close.

Linc again: “Apache Joe, what the fuck are you doing out there? You’re supposed to be a quarter mile back.”

“Just counting coup, boss. Just counting coup. I’m heading back now. They won’t see me, don’t worry. Whoop! Huey overhead now. Clear in 5.”

“We’re not waiting on you Joe. You better be clear. I want no casualties, you hear? There’s too much paperwork.”

His mind was filled with a bunch of expletives. ’Fuck. Damn Apache. Thinks he’s invisible to night vision or infrared.’

“Standby. All hold. I want two NSB’s on that chopper. Confirm. NSB 1.”

“NSB1 Confirms. Nothing in sight.”

“NSB2?”

“NSB2 Confirms. Hot target on scope. Say again, target on scope.”

“NSB2. Roger that. Hold. Do not paint the target yet.”

“PB3. I’ve got maybe 20 men scaling outer fence. With many behind.” That was from pill box #3.

“PB6. Same report. Many on the outer fence. Can I shoot?”

“All PBs. Hold fire. I say again. Hold fire. We’ll shoot with NSB,” said our commander.

“On my mark, NSB2. 3... 2... 1 ... FIRE. All guns loose.” There was no shooting that Linc heard.

Nothing.

Then there was an explosion and a bright light in the sky, as a good part of the Huey disappeared from the night sky. The fireball landed somewhere out where Apache Joe probably was.

And the lights dimmed everywhere simultaneously, as ‘Switch 1’ pushed a button, and the entire output of a fusion reaction was sent to the electrified fence and the horizontally placed grid that extended 400 meters beyond it, under their feet. It fried to many men to count.

The equivalent of the electrical output of ¼ of the Hoover Dam didn’t have to light up the area for long.

Then Linc picked up some scattered fire from the darkness. ’Probably the Outside NavEl forces, picking off some stragglers,’ thought Linc.

“Central to North. Say status,” Linc said into his microphone.

Washburn answered, “North here. We had about 100 to 150 invaders. They became past-tense invaders when our local fence went live. No friendly casualties, except one twisted ankle, by the local commander. His comment when everything went live was ‘Holy Shit’ and he jumped back and tripped on a trash can.” He laughed.