G Hopf - Sanctuary

“We’ve managed to get some drones back online and they’re now operating around the Pocatello area. We have estimated our forces would have linked up with them around there,” Baxter added.

“Any thoughts if this was all a ruse by the colonel?”

“Sir, your guess is as good as mine.”

“We don’t need guesses. I need solid information. Get the colonel on the phone immediately. Let me know when we have him patched through.”

It took an hour to arrange the call with Barone. When Conner picked up the phone, he had no idea where the conversation was going to go. Their treaty was built on trust, and if Barone had betrayed him again, he might very well be faced with a two-front war.

“Colonel Barone?”

“Yes, this is Barone.”

“Colonel, do you have any idea where the vice president is?”

“They’ve been gone for a few days, so I’d suspect they might be close. But they are driving, so there are a myriad of issues that could have happened.”

“Why didn’t you fly them here?”

“We don’t have the resources to fly people everywhere. I’m sorry.”

“You have choppers. I know you have to have surplus fuel,” Conner challenged.

“Mr. Conner, I did what I did because my needs on the ground dictate it,” Barone fired back.

“I’d prefer it if you called me Mr. President.”

Barone paused a few moments before he replied, “No, I’ll call you Mr. Conner; you’re not my president anymore, remember?”

“Whatever! Why didn’t you mention that you weren’t flying them when you called me days ago? If you didn’t have the helicopters I would have offered to come get them. This is just crazy.”

“Frankly, you never asked how they were getting there; I was quite astonished you didn’t ask for that very important detail, but then again…”

“Stop the bullshit, Mr. Barone. Did Vice President Cruz and Secretary Wilbur leave Coos Bay?”

“Ha, you’re asking me because you suspect that I might have lied to you and am holding them? Let me assure you, I want the deal we’ve agreed to. Holding Cruz and Wilbur would do nothing for me now. I wouldn’t be so foolhardy as to blow a good thing.”

Barone was right—it wasn’t sensible for him to hold on to Cruz and Wilbur.

“Why do you suspect that they’re not heading your way?” Barone asked, curious.

“Because they’re not here yet. Once we found out you were driving them, I sent out a team to intercept them. By our estimates they should’ve crossed paths, but nothing. No signs of them. We’ve since launched drones along the route they were traveling. Somewhere along the way they disappeared and we have over twelve hundred miles of road to search. Not impossible, but it’s quite an operation.”

“I see why you’re concerned. What would you like from my end?”

“First, how well do you know the men taking them?”

“I sent one man.”

“What?! You sent one man?”

“Yes, that’s all I could spare. The local civilian authorities also sent a person and my guy had two others who he handpicked to go with.”

“So it’s not just one man, there’s a four-man team that went with them?”

“Yes,” Barone answered, lying about the team size so as to not enflame Conner any more.

“Can you dispatch some air and ground elements to trace the route?”

Barone was silent for a moment.

“Well, don’t answer right away,” Conner said, annoyed by Barone’s silence.

“I’ll put together several teams and have them deploy right away. Please have General Baxter keep in contact with me. If you find them before I do, I want to know so I can recall my teams. I need every person here,” Barone answered.

“Since we’re allies now, may I ask if everything is okay? I’m seeing red flags with all the ‘needing all people’ or ‘can’t spare the resources’ talk coming from you.”

“We are dealing with things not unlike you are. By the way, how is Cheyenne? I hear it’s windy and cold there.”

“It’s just fine here,” Conner replied, then drove the conversation back to a more professional topic. “Please return the favor and stay in touch with General Baxter.”

“I will, if that’s it. I’ll get right on sending those teams out.”

“That’s it, thank you. Oh, before I let you go, I did want to thank you for destroying the PAE’s naval forces. I can’t tell you how much that helps us both.”

Both men hung up.

“Dylan! Get in here,” Conner hollered.

Dylan ran in from the adjoining office. “Yes, Mr. President.”

“Get Baxter on the phone or in here, whichever is fastest. The colonel made some interesting comments and I need to see what is going on over there in Coos Bay.”

“Is everything okay with the colonel?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I need to have Baxter’s help. I’m concerned… very concerned.”

Barone hung up the phone and stepped back into the main CIC. He was on board the Makin Island , as it was the only place he could have long-range communications.

“Top, we need to send out a few teams. Apparently our guy Van Zandt can’t follow directions. He might be lost, shot up, or, worst case, dead.”

Simpson was talking with a senior chief petty officer about a ship issue when Barone interrupted his conversation. “I’m sorry, sir, what was that? Who might be dead?” Simpson asked loudly.

“Van Zandt and the vice president.”

“Roger that, sir, I’ll get several teams ready to green light in six hours, will that work?”

“Yes, that’ll be fine.”

Barone left the CIC and went directly to his old stateroom. He was feeling the beginnings of a migraine and needed some privacy. He lay down and closed his eyes for what seemed like a minute, then the intercom sounded.

“Colonel Barone, Colonel Barone, please report to the CIC.”

“Shit!” he cried out as he sat up. He was so tired he hadn’t even taken off his boots. He looked at the bed and said, “I’ll be back.”

Simpson met him outside the CIC. “Sir, we’ve got a problem.”

“Isn’t there always a problem? What is it?”

“The protest out front of the city hall has exploded into a riot. They’ve stormed the building looking for you. The report is they’re heading down to the ships.”

“Oh, fantastic ,” he said dryly.

“There’s rumor that you had the vice president and the mayor’s aide killed,” Simpson added.

“What? Who’s saying that?” Barone asked, irritated by the reports.

“Mayor Brownstein is leading the riot, that is all I know.”

“Christ, really? I am so fucking sick of these people. We have things to fix, we don’t need our time and resources wasted because people want to be heard!” Barone yelled. “Call general quarters, get the men down along the docks in front of the ships. Let them know to prepare to restrain some rowdy civilians.”

“Roger that!” Simpson said and went back inside CIC.

Barone made his way to the flight deck to get a bird’s-eye view of everything.

Men were scurrying inside and outside the ship. Barone watched as the large protest made its way down the road. They were chanting and yelling. Many were holding up signs or banners.

“Seriously!” he said out loud to himself. “What do they think this is, a fucking college campus? Idiots!”

At the head of the group was Mayor Brownstein. She was walking hand in hand with the other councilors from both Coos Bay and North Bend.

Barone couldn’t resist getting involved. He exited the flight deck and jumped in with his men as they disembarked the ship.

NCOs and junior officers were organizing their men into riot formations around the side of the ships. The men were all wearing their tactical gear and helmets. Barone hadn’t issued an order for firearms but Simpson must have taken the lead.