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Bruce Holleman made a quick call to Julie during the ride to to Six Commando. "Are you OK?" she asked immediately. "All good," Bruce replied. "We were just observing but it went clean with no casualties on our side. I'll probably have to stay for a day or two but just debriefing and stuff like that. How's everything there - no signs of trouble?" "About two hours after you left," Julie said, "there was a hit on Cassandra-Six. About three minutes of probes before the Guardian shut it town. Elliot is going over the logs and will have an an analysis for you." "What do we get," Bruce asked, "one of those a week? We definitely need to give it some love. Holler if anything else happens - there's gonna be some serious activity for the next few days." "Will do. You be safe." "Don't hafta remind me, you do the same. Love you a whole lot, you know." "Love you too. A while lot." Julie's a sweet kid ought to be workin' in a bank or something fending off dirty old men. And young ones. But neither of us would sell out for a safe and easy life. He put the phone away. Mason was doing something with his Commpad and he drove on in silence. Not that a safe or easy life was available to those not buying in - or selling out - as there was no safety there. Ease maybe, as long as it lasted. "Take 193," Mason said, closing the Commpad. "Looks like some kind of checkpoint about Hamblin." "Dumbasses," said Bruce. "The 193 junction is less than five miles from there." "Yeah, they may figure that out so we need to get through there quick." "Three minutes," Bruce said. "42 is about six or seven miles from there. Anything on that?" "Not yet, I'll check after we make the turn." "Gotcha. The cutoff to Brushy Lake is at three miles." "Right. Hope we don't have to use it." The junction was marked by a small group of buildings - a county road shop, liquor store across the highway, a church just around the corner. Bruce checked the mirrors and hit the turn signal. The white cargo van that had been behind him for a few miles didn't.... he completed the turn and the van continued on. The regime operators seemed to be getting smarter at times but as often regressed. Mason was looking at his 'pad at mile three and gave no indication that he should deviate. There was another option almost a mile ahead and that one passed. A year ago they would have had the resources to cover Highway 42. A few minutes later they were at the intersection. "Nothing," Mason said. "Make a left." Highway 42 could be a treacherous road. The shoulders were gravel with a sharp drop from the asphalt and Bruce knew of at least two fatal one-car accidents on that stretch. Nothing in the mirrors and he took it easy. The Hickory Ridge junction came up and he stopped at the blinking red light. A truck was coming a couple hundred yards away and he proceeded. The town was a quarter mile to the right and with a population of under three hundred the local law had no interest in the intersection even in the good times. "Looks good the rest of the way," Mason said, but continued looking a the 'pad screen. Bruce set the cruise and watched the rice fields roll by, many of them idle the past season and the farmers hadn't even bothered to prep them. Things were definitely looking bad for someone. "All good," Mason said as they passed a sign with the 'Amagon 7'. "Next left if you don't remember." Bruce remembered and turned onto County Road 417. It was a gravel road and in decent shape even though there was nothing at the end except their destination. Six Commando had the road maintained in a servicable state but not in such good conditon as to attract attention. Weeds and small bushes grew in the ditches and vehicle tracks were regularly brushed away. A little over a mile from the highway was a small creek with a dubious-looking but servicable bridge. Once across the bridge Bruce drove Albert into a small grove of ancient trees that would hide the vehicle even in the fall with most of the leaves gone. He killed the engine and waited. Mason's Commpad chimed and he looked down, tapped and swiped a couple of times and closed it. "Let's go," he said. "Follow me and walk casually, there are some few guys here." Mason led the way to a small mound that looked like a storm shelter, as they approached the door opened and several men emerged. One separated from the group and approached. "Good show, boss," he said. "Mr. Devasier, I presume." "Don't presume me an old man," Ronald said. "Mr. Devasier is my father." "Still in good health I hope," the man replied. "Good to meet you at last." "You're something of a legend in these parts," Mason said. "This gentleman - and I use the term loosely - is none other than Samuel Blackstone. Sam to friends of course." "Heard about you, Sam. Good to meet you too." Sam was wearing the usual outfit of khaki and was wearing jungle combat boots. A old-looking Ruger Redhawk occupied a vertical shoulder holster and a couple of speedloaders shared the other side with a long knife. Gabe Stone wakizashi. Heard about how Sam's a holy terror at close quarters. Don't want any of that. "Let's get underground," Mason said, walking to the entrance. Several of the men were dragging large camouflage nets to cover Albert. What looked like a storm shelter actually was but served only as an entrance to the undergrould complex that currently housed Six Commando. It was on two levels with the lower one serving as storage space. The entrance opened onto a large lobby about twenty by thirty feet. Behind a reception desk in the center were two corridors. Two young men in olive fatigues were chatting with the young woman at the desk. All greeted Mason as they approached. "Ashleigh," Mason said as the two men discreetly vanished,"this is Bruce Holleman. Bruce, Ashleigh Bradley. Is all in readiness?" Related to Oliver Bradley? She's about the right age. "Yes, sir," Ashleigh replied. She was in civvies so it was hard to guess her standing but the receptionist for the big guy was probably up there. "Paul is delayed at..." " Bruce is cleared," Mason said. "Paul has been stuck at Mesa Verde for the past day and it's not looking like he'll be here for another day at least." "I figured on that," Mason said. "I should have pulled him out before we caused all the ruckus but as long as he's not in danger of being burned he's good as is." "He wasn't apprehensive," Ashleigh said. "That was two hours ago. Everyone else is in the conference room." "Thanks," Mason said. "Hold any calls below Level Two." Bruce had never been inside the current Six Commando HQ - the one he was familar with had been history for months now. He followed Mason and Sam down the left-hand corridor. The conference room was a short distance and Mason opened the door and walked in. There were several empty seats at the far side of the long conference table and Bruce and Sam followed him that way. He gestured to the seats on either side of the one he selected. Four large video screens at one end of the room, each about six by eight feet, had some sort of screen-saver pattern. As Mason sat down a young man with a Mike Charlie Red shield on a lapel tapped a screen and the displays changed. The second one from the left went through an old fashioned film countdown before switching to a live video. That's the operation. Pretty quick if it's been thorough production. There were about two dozen people in the room and they watched as the scene that Bruce had watched a few hours earlier was replayed. When it ended Mason spoke. "We'll watch the reactions in a few minutes," he said. "Any questions?" "All that in under ten minutes," a man a couple of seats down on the other side said, "and zero casualties. Impressive even when you're used to it." "Indeed," Mason said. "Complete surprise but we can't count on that always being the case. This will... it already has a serious response. Not that we expected to get away with it forever." He nodded to the operator. Another scene appeared on the third screen. It was a television news broadcast, such as television was these days. Nearly a hundred percent of the audience was streaming it whether live or a replay. A young black woman identified as Ja'Terrica Wilson was the anchor with a Kyle Erwin in a guest box. "Kyle, thanks for joing us on such short notice," she said. "What can you tell us about the incident at Masjid Aisha" "Thanks, Jaterrie.... Ja'Terrica," he replied. "As you know Masjid Aisha is an Islamic coummnity northeast of Austin. Earlier this morning it was attacked by what appears to be a paramilitary force. We don't yet have a firm casualty count but it seems to be in the hundreds." "We have reports," Wilson said, "that the mosque was destroyed." "Sadly it seems to be a total loss, Jame... Ja'Terrica," Erwin replied. "It seems that the mosque was the primary target, as we have seen in other cases." "Kyle," Wilson said, "can you stand by for a minute? We have someone... someone apparently representing the attackers. We've seen this before let's take a minute if you can..." A third talking head window appeared, occupied by a famlilar face. Good old Tylo Arnjard. "Mr. Arnjard," Wilson said, "Can you tell us anything about an apparent attack on Masjid Aisha?" "Thank you, Ja'terria," Tylo said. "We are aware of it." That subtle misprounciation, always there. He's mocking her. "Do you have any idea why a peaceful religious community was attacked?" she asked. "There was a mosque," Tyle replied. "The attack was because of a mosque?" Been through this enough times but they still have to do it. "The mosque is a symbol of conquest," Tylo said. "The facility was destroyed because of it." "Facility," Wilson asked. "Isn't that a strange... " but Tylo had vanished. "Standard procedure," Mason said. "Give them a feed from a mandroid, rub it in some." "I'd say you did that," Bruce said. "Anything else we're supposed to get from that?" "No, as I said standard procedure, but on the other side it... accelerates the process. By now they know we're doing these attacks at will and to show them who's in charge." "What will they do?" Bruce asked. "What can they do?" Mason asked. "Nothing. That's why we do it. And it reduces the Muslim population." "How much?" Bruce asked. "We killed a few dozen, a couple hundred...." "And destroyed the mosque," said Mason. "Without it the colony is done - they don't have the resources to rebuild. There will be a handful of diehards that will join other groups but Without the mosque - and the central authority to keep them in line - they just sit around and survive any way they can. The indoctrination has to be continued constantly. "So on to the next project?" "We'll continue to monitor this site," Mason replied. "If there's any trouble out of whatever is left we'll deal with it when it happens. We should have some reaction by now, let's take a look."
Leonard Parrish -- |
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