Kyle Pratt - Through Many Fires

Caden made small talk for a few moments then said, “I hope you are able to talk to your family soon.”

“Thanks. I would really like to before we ship out to Korea or wherever.”

Caden agreed and departed.

The rain stopped as he walked from the barracks. The clouds were thinning and the day felt brighter and warmer. The world might be falling apart, but at least he was rebuilding his life. His pace was quick as he walked down the street. As he entered the flight operations building a C-130 roared down the runway.

“Washington state?” The officer stared at the computer screen. “Yes, we have two planes tonight headed for Fairchild. One is full of cargo, the other full of soldiers.” He shook his head. “Sorry, no space.”

“Come on, I need a seat for a governor. This man may be the next president.”

“When Monroe is president he can bump military cargo and get on the plane.”

“Is space that tight?”

The officer nodded. “I might be able to get him onboard a flight, but not his entourage.”

Frustration grew in Caden’s gut. Governor Monroe would arrive tonight and if he was to get this job, and get home, he would need to prove his usefulness, but as of yet he had no flight and therefore no security detail either. Caden shuddered at the thought of reporting failure and then asking for a job. He tried to think of all the larger bases in the region.

“Northwest,” the man mumbled as he stared at the screen. “Only Fairchild today, but…. What about Joint Base Lewis-McChord?” He said looking up. “That’s in western Washington.”

Caden nodded. He knew JBLM well. “How many flights are going there?”

“Oh, we have three flights tomorrow to that base.”

Caden’s brow shot up. “Three?”

“How many spots would you need on the plane?”

Caden thought quickly, the governor, his wife, David Weston and himself. Weston had also mentioned two Secret Service agents were with the governor. “Six and a security detail of maybe four more.”

“Ten people?” He bit his lip as he scanned the computer screen. “Maybe…yes, I think I can do that, but I’ll need an okay from the commanding officer.”

Caden smiled as he slid the general’s order across the counter.

Late in the afternoon Caden walked from the military police office. He unfolded his to-do list. Before the MPs had cleared him to leave, they had taken every piece of identification he had and entered it into a database. Finally, they approved him for travel and issued a red, white and blue ID badge.

“Don’t lose this,” one said sternly. “This is your Homeland Security ID. You will need it to cross state lines, get through checkpoints and onto any federal installation.”

Caden slipped it in his pocket.

Running down his list he checked off, “Get approval from the MPs to leave.” Now only ‘Brief David Weston on progress,’ remained on his list. Caden ambled along the road that followed the flight line. Several planes were being fueled. Dozens of military personnel with assorted trucks and tankers busied themselves about the hangers and aircraft. All regular army personnel sent west? A large formation of troops marching toward the flight line caught his attention. Multiple flights to JBLM and Fairchild tomorrow. What’s going on? The image of the boiling mushroom cloud over Washington and the firestorm filled his mind. Wars and rumors of wars. He shuddered at the thought. The war has already begun—and we’re losing.

Briskly he proceeded toward the refugee center. After talking with Weston he would share his good news with Maria. He approached a large asphalt lot that had been used for military formations, but the refugees had converted it into a bazaar. As he reached the edge of the market, the sun hung low in the sky casting long shadows amidst the rows of improvised stalls covered with tarps and canvas. His eyes darted from stall to stall as he walked through the market. There seemed to be some of everything there, car parts, camping supplies, computers, dishes, books and magazines. It was possible to buy food from local farms, but the price was high. Ahead was a stand with apples. He would buy one and share it with Maria over dinner that night.

As he walked away from the booth, apple in hand, he saw Maria approach with Adam on her hip. The two seemed to be attached these last few days. He waved and Maria smiled.

As she neared, her eyes seemed to twinkle in anticipation. “Did you get the job?”

“I think so.” He told her that Weston had eagerly asked for his help and how he had arranged a flight to Joint Base Lewis-McChord.

“Where’s that?”

“Just south of Seattle,” he said with a broad grin. “So, I am out of here.”

She frowned. “When do you leave?”

Caden looked toward the airfield with a smile. “Tomorrow.”

“So you’re leaving Adam and me behind?”

His head snapped around and he looked into her eyes. “I…ah, Adam? And you? You want to go? I hadn’t thought….”

“I agree.” She turned on her heels and walked briskly away.

Caden stood for a moment reviewing what had just happened. He was hurt by her anger. Admittedly he had forgotten about Adam in the excitement of the day. Perhaps subconsciously he had expected Maria to care for him. Everyone in the camp assumed she was his mother. And me the father? He pushed that out of his mind. Did she say anything about wanting to go with me to Washington? No! But then has she had the chance to ask? No.

He grunted and walked slowly along as people passed him on all sides. They would only complicate the trip. I’m not even sure I have this job.

Someone bumped into him. “Excuse me.”

Caden didn’t look up or reply. I can’t ask the governor to help strangers. He walked in the direction she had gone, trying to decide whether to talk to her. I don’t owe her anything. He winced. Yes, I do. She had saved his life and that was a debt he was honor-bound to repay. Shuffling along, his eyes fixed on the ground, he realized he had been thinking only of himself. Her company was pleasant and he wanted to share with her all he had accomplished during the day, but now he felt alone and his triumph was diminished. It might be nice to have someone to talk to, if she wanted to come along. Even Adam was growing on him.

From behind Caden heard a familiar voice call him.

“Were you able to make the arrangements?” David asked.

Caden briefed him on his successful day.

“That’s great.”

Caden smiled, but his heart was not in it.

“Come back to my camp. I’ve got some news stories I want you to see. I figure with your military and intel experience you might have some insights into what is going on.”

Caden wanted to find Maria, talk with her, change flight arrangements so she could come with him, but he felt obliged to go with David.

As the last orange glow in the western sky faded, a C5 cargo plane lumbered along the tarmac. David led him away from the refugee camp toward the base administration buildings at the far end of the installation.

Dozens of men with shovels and two backhoes dug a trench several hundred yards long across their path.

“They’re dividing this place into a secure military section and a refugee camp.” David pulled a badge from his pocket and clipped it to his shirt as they crossed a makeshift bridge over the trench. “In a few days civilians will need a Homeland Security ID to get on this part of the base.”

Caden glanced at the badge. It was the same type he had been issued earlier in the day.

Moments later, they walked around to the back of the administration building. “This is my new car,” David said as he approached a silver Ford SUV.