S Ison - Russian Doomsday

Mikey took the paper and looked it over. There were six addresses, all in the ritzy part of town. “Looks good. I say we start about 9 pm and hit and run.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to hang around those houses too long. Nosey neighbors, you know.”

“Hell yeah, you got that right. With the cameras nowadays, it’s getting harder and harder.”

“We need to get in and out fast. Some of them have silent alarms. So, three minutes at the most. In, out, and gone. Cops usually get there in about five, so I want to be well away,” Kalvin said.

“Just so you know, I got my eyes on a new source for some pills. I’m checking it out before I do anything.”

“Good, Mikey. Let me know and I’ll get it to my guy.

“I’d say this is going to be one of our nicest Christmases,” Kalvin laughed.

“Merry Christmas, Kalvin,” Mikey laughed, and lifted his beer.

Harley and Christy sat on the couch watching the boys. They were playing with their Legos while the three dogs were passed out. The lights on the Christmas tree twinkled and, in the background, soft Christmas music played. He and Christy were drinking hot chocolate.

Christy lay against him and he leaned down and kissed her head. She tilted it back and smiled up at him. He was dreading the next few months. He had a lot of trips planned. Thankfully most were only a couple days away from home.

After Christmas was a busy time. He was glad he was able to spend this precious time with his family.

“Thank you again for the bugout bag. What made you get it for me?” he asked his wife.

“Well, with you on the road so much, and all the bad news, I figured why not.”

“Thank you for thinking about me.” He leaned over and kissed her head again.

“I’m glad you got the gun. Just so much violence out there, all I want is for you to be safe.”

“I know honey, and thank you for getting the targets for me. I’m really getting good.” He grinned at her.

“Well, just keep the boys away from it. And don’t let them near it when you put it in the safe. I just don’t like it around them.”

“You know I’m always careful. I hope it wasn’t stretching the budget with the bugout bag.”

Christy supplemented their income with her work on computer graphics. She designed book covers and magazine covers, and was able to work from home. She also sold their milk and eggs to locals, who appreciated the fresh organic milk and eggs. They weren’t rich, but they were very happy. He’d never before thought he’d live this kind of wonderful life.

“Trust me, I got everything on sale. If not Black Friday sales, other sales. You know me,” she sniggered.

He grinned at her.

Jackson came to them with his creation. “Look, Daddy, look what I made.”

“Wow, a tiger! That is terrific.”

“Look at mine too, Daddy,” Jacob cried, running to the couch.

“Wow, you boys sure can build something fantastic.” He grinned and hugged each boy.

He’d grown up in a dysfunctional home with ambivalent parents. They were so wrapped up in their own lives and miseries that Harley had fallen to the wayside. He’d never felt loved until he’d met Christy. He’d needed some pamphlets done and had gone to her for the design work. She’d had a small office in Rowland back then.

It had been love at first sight; at least, for him. She’d loved him and given him what he’d needed to feel whole. He’d never looked back. She’d made his life richer with her common-sense love and care. He could not imagine life without her.

As shown by the gift of the bugout bag, she had his safety uppermost in her mind. Since he’d begun to pay more attention to the world situation, he really appreciated the gift. He wondered if most Americans were like him, in a fog when it came to the world around them?

Hamish shuffled papers as he spoke on the secure line. “An accident? Do you know what kind of accident?”

“It was in the housing section. Mermaid indicated that it’s unclear if it was mechanical or explosion,” said the voice on the other end of the call.

“It means they’re in production. If it was the housing on the nuclear reactor chamber, I guess we’d know about it,” Hamish said, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut. He was tired and needed a break.

“Production may have stopped if equipment was damaged severely enough. That would slow them down,” the voice said.

“It also might mean there is a saboteur at work. It isn’t us. We can’t get that close, though I wish we could. Mermaid has come through wonderfully. This is good news,” Hamish said, a smile stretched across his tired face.

“I’d say so. It may be MI6. I know they have assets over there. It wouldn’t surprise me,” the voice said. Hamish could hear the humor even across the encryption.

“Thank God we aren’t the only ones worried about POSEIDON. I’d hate to think we were alone in this. I’m sure China and Israel have assets involved too. If our intel is correct, they do. The Russians are at least hampered for the time being. Hopefully Mermaid will send us more. Thank you for the SITREP. Have a good Christmas if I don’t hear from you sooner. OUT,” Hamish said, and hung up.

Hamish leaned back and blew out a long breath. It was good news and bad news. An accident meant that they were shut down, but it also meant they were actively working on POSEIDON. It bought time. But time for what? Was Russia planning to enable POSEIDON for launch? Was Orlov’s visit in April a sham to make the U.S. lower their guard?

The diplomats and secretaries were checking calendars and finding a reason to be in Washington during that time. No one wanted to be left out. These kinds of meetings were high profile, and everyone wanted a piece of the pie. There was always a lot of glad handing and deal making.

So many questions and very few answers. At least Mermaid had given them a clue: POSEIDON was moving ahead. So what were they planning? Planning for the future? Planning for long term? Planning a show of force? Perhaps he’d speak with his contact at MI6, James Kilian.

He and Kilian had a pretty close working relationship and were willing to share a little bit more intel than what was normal. In this day and age, both men felt it prudent to share, though it was usually kept between themselves. James was reliable and Hamish trusted him. He’d met the man briefly on a visit and had liked him.

Maybe, combining intel, they could get a clearer picture. He didn’t like it when he didn’t know the answers. Or the questions, for that matter. With their combined efforts, they had stopped many terrorist incidents on both sides of the pond. They did more between them than they could going through normal channels. This issue warranted aggressive pro-action.

Pike pushed the cart around the store. He planned to make dinner to celebrate; he’d gotten two houses under contract. Expensive houses, they were, and he could just envision the hefty commissions. He was happy, and really proud of himself. He thought with a pang of Johnny and Bev. He stopped in front of the wine section to read labels.

“Can I help you?” a store assistant asked.

“Sure, I guess. I’m making chicken parmesan and I wanted a good wine to go with that. What would you suggest?” He had no clue and figured anything would go, but since the woman was asking, he figured he’d let her choose.

“I would suggest this nice Montepulciano, I think it would pair very well with the chicken and red sauce. Or perhaps this Italian Barbera? You can’t go wrong with either one,” she said, smiling.