John Ringo - Under a Graveyard Sky

“You girls just know too damned much about guns,” Sherill growled. “Moving around to the far side. I do want to watch, but not enough to get hulled.”

“We were approaching your location,” Chris called from the Cooper. “But on consideration, I’m stopping about five miles out. Nice to see the bloody USN decided to finally show up to the party.”

“Navy’s here?” someone called. “Hallelujiah!”

“Submarine,” Sophia said. “It can’t do much but fire from range. They’re not contaminated and don’t want to be that way. But, yeah, we’ve got some support. Finally.”

“Chuck, switch to twenty-three and I’ll fill you in,” Chris said. “I was monitoring the conversation.”

“Be nice to get some help. Switching.”

* * *

The “radio” was a blue satellite phone with no markings on it. Steve set the Toy on autopilot and hit the only number listed.

“Strategic Armaments Control, is this Commodore Wolf?”

“Roger,” Steve said.

“Stand by, please.”

There was a click.

“Wolf?”

“Roger.”

“This is quote Blount, Commodore. My actual name is Frank Galloway. Prior to the Plague, I was one of several people rotated to secure points to act as NCCC in the event of something like, well, this.”

“Zombies high on the list of possible problems?” Steve asked.

“No,” Galloway said. “Not really. And to give you an idea how bad it is, I was number one hundred and twenty-six on the list. The current Commander of the Joint Chiefs is a brigadier and you can guess how low the rest of the people are. The reality is that there probably are other survivors higher up the chain. There may even be functioning secure points which have just lost commo. But…”

“But possibly not,” Steve said.

“CDC is still there as well. And several other nations have maintained at least one functioning fraction of their former government. Russia, notably. One of the reasons we haven’t called you back is that we’ve been getting…flack from the Russians. They’re insisting on equal access to the vaccine.”

“I don’t have an issue with that,” Steve said. “I mean… I’m not some sort of tranzi, but right now there’s no real point in worrying about borders. They’re basically gone.”

“My Russian counterpart is an interesting chap,” Galloway said. “He’s stated that Russia is no more and that it is again the Soviet Union and that absent supplying all of his nuclear wessels ///sic/// with vaccine, immediately , he will solve our zombie problem with nuclear strikes.”

“ What ?” Steve said.

“I’d appreciate you keeping that to yourself, Commodore,” Galloway said. “As I said, the reason you’ve been out on a limb is that we didn’t have a secure line. I had considered this method earlier but it was not… I should have done it sooner. I apologize. While this is not exactly a busy job, it’s not all beer and skittles.”

“Going to have to leave that in your lap, sorry,” Steve said. “Any idea if this cruise liner has an x-ray machine.”

“It does,” Galloway said. “But the overall lab supplies and equipment will be miniscule. And the nearest hospital ship with one is in the very south Atlantic. It was on its way from the IO when the plague broke out. And it managed to still get contaminated. Do you think you can clear a land area?”

“Depends on how large,” Steve temporized. “And right now, no. But I have some notional plans for clearing, say, small towns that are remote from major infected presence.

“Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, had barely nine thousand personnel,” Galloway said. “However, it had been upgraded to support not only the detainees but as a support base for disasters in the Caribbean region. Also…sometimes there were refugees with medical conditions from those disasters that needed a better hospital. If there wasn’t a hospital ship available, they could be treated at Gitmo without bringing them to the U.S. So a second hospital was built, which has a full epidemiological lab. It should have everything you need to produce attenuated vaccine. However, there is a significant infected presence on the base.”

“I think I can clear it,” Steve said, rubbing his chin. “Possibly. Probably.”

“How?” Galloway asked.

“Well, you have information I need,” Steve said. “Is there a large source of fifty caliber ammunition somewhere nearby? At sea, I mean. I’m thinking of a SeaLift ship. There aren’t any on the AIS I’ve got. But that’s not complete. AIS stops working when the ship does.”

“Standby… There is a Marine amphibious assault carrier, the Iwo Jima , approximately eight hundred nautical miles southeast of Bermuda. According to my senior Marine that would have a large store of fifty caliber. You need fifty caliber to take Guantanamo I take it.”

“Mount fifties, water cooled, at the level of the docks,” Steve said. “Make lots of light and noise overnight. Open fire at dawn. Then continue clearance on land. If there are survivors on the Iwo Jima … That would increase our chances. So far we’ve only found the one life raft from the Iwo . Most of them probably went east of Bermuda and we’ve been searching west. God knows I could use some Marines. As well as trained Navy people.”

“The question of your ability to prepare the vaccine has been raised again. Is your tech… Without naming any names or… Oh, skip that. Can he or she do it?”

“Quality control is the issue,” Steve said. “We have the recipe if you will. But the doctor checked the quality and we won’t have the materials or equipment he had. Then again… We don’t know what we’re going to get off this cruise ship. In terms of help, that is. There are people alive.”

“Yes, we’re getting a live feed from the Dallas ,” Galloway said.

“Some of them could be doctors,” Steve said. “Biologists or MDs. Possibly. Or not. That’s the problem with making plans with this job. You never know what you’re going to get. You change your plans on the basis of whatever shows up, however it shows up. Fortunately, my masters is based on that.”

“Excuse me?” Galloway said.

“Have you ever wondered why my daughter is called Faith?” Steve said.

“I had assumed you were a fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” Galloway said. “Or at least that was suggested by one of my advisors.”

“Never saw it until after she was born,” Steve said. “My masters was on logistics in a low support condition, specifically keeping the Gloster Gladiators flying on Malta during the Siege.”

“I have a lot of history, but… Standby… Ah, my senior Air Force advisor just filled me in. Faith, Hope and Charity. I see.”

“Three obsolete biplanes faced down the Luftwaffe for nearly two years and kept flying, sir,” Steve said. “Their crews had to make parts from scrap metal. Parts would come in for Hurricanes. Hurricanes. They didn’t see their first Hurricane until 1943. So they would rework Hurricane parts to work in Glosters. They would beg, borrow or steal. Rework, refit, literally use chewing gum. When they had chewing gum.”

“That makes sense,” Galloway said. “I guess you are well prepared for your current situation.”

“Does your Air Force advisor know which aircraft had the most kills, sir? That never missed so much as one battle?”

“She admits that as a bomber pilot she’d sort of consider them the bad guys, so, no.”

“Put it this way, sir,” Steve said. “Whenever they went to battle, they always had Faith.”

* * *