G Hopf - Sanctuary

“So what’s our next move, people?” Conner asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table.

“We have air, he doesn’t. Since we don’t have an organized ground force to send against him, we could bring support to the insurgency if it turns out to be real. We can immediately send down what special ops teams we can spare to coordinate attacks that will greatly reduce and impede his army,” Baxter recommended.

Fillmore jumped in. “We use our air to destroy all roads leading north. We level all bridges, et cetera. This will force his army to go overland. With spring coming, the softer ground will work for us and slow down wherever he advances to next.”

“I like what I’m hearing,” Conner said with a smile.

“We can beat him. All he has is an army. It is a powerful force but he can’t fall back to ships nor can he be resupplied now. The main concern I have is if he was the one who was behind the EMP and nuclear attacks, then he might have more of those types of weapons up his sleeve. I know you have removed the option of a nuclear response to the PAE off the table, but we have to have it as an option,” Baxter said.

“No nukes on our soil. I won’t do it,” Conner said flatly. “Do we know his overall motives for this attack?”

“We have some info on that, sir. This guy Pablo fashions himself a new Napoléon.”

“So we’re dealing with a total psychopath?” Conner asked rhetorically.

“Yes, sir, a total nut job, but a nut job with an army.”

“Where did he go?” Pablo asked the young man, a former staff person of the governor’s.

Both men were walking in the outside garden of the governor’s mansion. The man stuttered repeatedly as he told Pablo about Pasqual’s movements.

“So you saw him actually go inside the house?” Pablo asked. Apparently, Pasqual had taken a vehicle, and by himself left to go into a residential part of Sacramento. Given the conversation that he’d had with Isabelle, his interest was piqued.

“Yes,” the man answered.

“Did you know who he was seeing? Anything?”

“No, sir. He-he-he went in and sta-sta-stayed for about thirty minutes, then came out. I-I-I didn’t see anyone else.”

“You saw nothing unusual about his interactions with other officers?”

“No, sir. Looked, ah, ah, normal. Talking, laughing,” the man said.

“What can you tell me about the area?”

“Like what, sir?”

“Was it nice? Was it a ghetto?” Pablo asked.

“Average, not too nice, but-but not a ghet— bad place,” the man stuttered.

“Fine, keep watching him. I want to know everything he does. I need you to see who he’s following and next time, get me the address. Be smart and look for a name or mailbox,” Pablo said, patting the man on the back and ushering him off.

Pablo walked the gravel path that meandered through the now-dead garden. Where rosebushes and flowers once bloomed, brown, dried-out dead plants remained. As he pulled an old rosebud off a plant, he pricked his finger.

“Damn,” he yelped.

“You hurt yourself?” Isabelle said, walking up behind him.

“Yes, this rose bit me,” he answered her, then placed his bleeding finger in his mouth.

“It’s sad, but things of beauty like the rose need thorns to protect themselves,” she said as she put her arms around him.

“Or maybe it’s a lesson that those things we think are beautiful also have ugly parts.”

“You are so cynical.”

“I am but that cynicism has served me quite well. I don’t intend on giving it up.”

“Who was that with you just a bit ago?” she asked curiously.

“Nobody.”

“He’s somebody, meaning you wouldn’t be talking to him if he wasn’t someone,” she pressed.

“It’s not your concern. Why are you so interested anyway?” he asked with a hint of an edge in his tone.

“You know us women, nosy. I just never saw him before.”

“And you might see more of him. He’s just helping me with some business that’s not all that important. But, then again, you really don’t need to ask me about my business,” Pablo said, harshly.

“Yes, my emperor,” she answered obediently, deflecting his more aggressive tone. She took him off guard by reaching down and grabbing his crotch. “Shall I be of service to the emperor?”

He pulled her hand away and said, “Not now.”

She pressed her body against his and tried again. “Are you sure?”

This time he couldn’t resist her; her sexual magnetism was intense. When he was with her he couldn’t think of anything but her. He knew this and would attempt to ignore it, but when she pushed, he caved. He took her by the hand and they both vanished into the small greenhouse located at the rear of the property.

Nelson’s truck rumbled to a stop at the gate that edged Truman’s long driveway. Judging by the amount of packed snow against it, it hadn’t been opened in a long time.

Nelson thought about ramming it but he didn’t want to damage his truck. He looked to the left and right but a large drainage ditch lay to either side, so that cut out the possibility of going around it. They would have to run the quarter mile to the house.

Nelson exited the truck and slammed the door, frustrated. “Shit!”

“Just ram it!” Mack yelled from the bed of the truck.

“Too risky; the gate has frozen snow covering the lower third of it,” Eric answered.

“No time to discuss. I’m not ramming the gate and I can’t drive off-road. Let’s hustle,” Nelson barked.

The men grabbed their weapons and began jogging down the drive. Nelson led the pack that included Mack, Eric, Frank, and Scott.

It took them only a few minutes before the houses came into view.

“Mack, Scott, go to the trailer. Eric, check out the barns in the back. Dad, you and I will stop by the main house,” Nelson ordered. All the men split off.

Nelson stayed focused on the main house and looked for any movement. Nothing. He and Frank stepped onto the wooden deck. Frank went right, he went left. Nelson peered into the dirty window but couldn’t see much. The house’s blinds and drapes were pulled back but it was too difficult to make out very much. From what he could see, it looked like a pretty normal setup, decorated with furniture, lamps, and knickknacks.

“Dad, anything?”

Frank had his face against a screen, attempting to see. “Nothing, looks like no one is home.”

“Only one way to find out,” Nelson said as he approached the front door and began to bang on it.

Eric walked onto the deck from the side. “Nothing in the barn or other structures!”

Mack then came up from the trailer. “Nothing there either. Looks like they’ve been gone for a while.”

Nelson, frustrated beyond words, stepped back and kicked the door. It splintered and flew wide open. He raised his rifle and walked in.

The force of the kick disturbed what looked like months of dust and dirt, which floated in the air and choked him. He proceeded through the front living room, looking carefully for any clue. Adding to the heavy dust, which was making him cough, a strong and pungent odor overwhelmed his sense of smell.

“Holy shit, what is that?” Mack said as he entered the house.

“I’m going to guess a combination of backed-up septic, garbage, foul food, and nasty redneck ass,” Eric joked, coming in behind Mack.

Nelson didn’t pay attention to the guys and looked everywhere for a sign, a clue, something that would tell him Haley had been there. But each corner he turned told him she wasn’t here and that Truman hadn’t been here for some time.

“There’s no one here. We need to go back now,” Nelson yelled, stepping back outside. He hadn’t bothered to search the entire house. He saw enough to know that she wasn’t there.