Jacqueline Druga - Fallout

When Troy arrived, he showed his military ID. He was still in uniform but looked worse for wear. Dirty, bruised, and tired. After he walked out to retrieve his men, Gus told the check in man, “Send them down. I’ll get them situated and acclimated.”

“Got it. We didn’t unpack the truck of tents yet,” the young man said.

“We’ll get to it.”

Holding that crinkled flyer, Gus headed back to base. He could hear the sound of running water, but very few voices. No loud sounds were permitted; they were under the radar and wanted to stay that way.

Steve had made it half way up the path as Gus walked back.

“Everything okay?” Steve asked.

Gus handed him the flyer. “Another forty on their way down. These ones all soldiers as well.”

“Christ, Gus, where we gonna put them?”

“We have enough room. We’ll figure it out. Besides, I want to move the first group out.”

“Where to?”

“Something easy. Obtainable victory so we can keep momentum.”

“Proc Checkpoint. Breezewood?” Steve asked.

“That’s what I’m thinking. We’ve waited long enough. It’s time…” Gus said. “It’s time we start the fight.”

Russian President Petrov initiated the meeting, called all the leaders personally, and accepted Switzerland’s invitation to host.

A part of him should have known better. The joke about Switzerland being neutral wasn’t just a joke, it did have merit behind it.

Petrov was in one of the fortunate countries. He was able to keep it together and amped up the military presence before things went awry.

The summit was more of a meeting, a large conference table with only a few countries in attendance. China did not show and they continued to deny any wrong doing.

Petrov, along with the leaders of Great Britain, Australia, and Canada offered documentation to the others in the room. Information they were already aware of.

The point of the meeting was to collectively decide what could be done. Clearly the events in the United States were affecting the global community.

After three hours of discussing the situation, when they returned from a short break, it was over before Petrov knew it.

Everyone voiced their concerns.

“And what does this have to do with us?” asked Switzerland.

“We will have humanitarian aid, but no more than that,” said Japan.

“There’s no reason, if China has taken over, that we cannot work the same deal as we did with United States,” said Germany.

The general consensus was… it was a new order, and let it go.

The responses were echoed around the room and as they filed out one by one, Petrov wanted more than anything to storm out. But he didn’t. He stayed. Wallowing in that room in defeat and an abundance of worry.

It seemed everyone had their own problems, which were valid, and they couldn’t be bothered, nor did they have the energy or resources to deal with what was happening in the United States. They all seemed to want to take the path of least resistance and damage. What would end the crisis soon. What would put everything back on the right path?

It was understandable, no one ever really wanted to have a military interference. But sometimes, it was necessary.

As Petrov stayed in the room, he was surprised when the door opened and Prime Minister Winslet along with the prime minister of Canada stepped inside.

He knew why they walked in, or at least hoped he did. He felt a sense of relief when he saw their faces.

“Please don’t think I’m abandoning your efforts,” Winslet said. “I’m not. I am just trying to do what’s best for my country.”

Petrov nodded. “So am I.” He shifted his eyes to the Canadian prime minister. “And you are here, why?

“This situation affects us very much.” The Canadian prime minister said. “It is too close. We will do what we can to aid you and assist you in whatever endeavor you decide. But we ask that in exchange for our participation, you wait until our intel comes in.”

“What intel would that be?” asked Petrov.

“We have people in there. But we cannot reach them. We are sending teams in to find out what is going on. To get an in-depth look.”

“That I can agree to,” said Petrov.

“May I ask,” said Prime Minister Winslet, “while I realize the urgency in the situation, there seems to be a rush to get a decision. A good offense is planning. Is it because of the food shortage now?”

“It is not the food,” Petrov answered strongly. “Do you not get it? At all? Yes, they are now controlling sixty percent of the world’s food supply, that is troublesome. But more so, they are now in control of the second biggest nuclear arsenal in the world. I cannot have that. The world cannot have it. Can you?”

It looked like the classic version of the old school game Stratego. Little flags set up on a map. But instead of a generic landscape it was a topography map of the United States. It was spread out on a table, with Gus center of it all, Steve to his right and a few military men joined.

“Right now, we know of nineteen camps,” Gus said. “There are probably more but this is all we can confirm.”

“Here’s the problem,” Troy said. “Once you hit any of them, the others are going to go on high alert.”

“That’s why we are going to have to hit as many as we can at the same time,” Gus replied.

“Can we coordinate that?” Steve asked.

Gus nodded. “I believe we can. We don’t need the manpower, it can be done quietly if done correctly.”

“Infiltrate?” Troy asked. “Two, three people on the inside.”

Gus moved his finger down to the map. “Exactly. Two or three on the inside, get us intel, get us in. If we do this at the right time, we only need a few good snipers to take out the guards, and the detainees can walk right out the door. That many people, they don’t have enough soldiers to hold them back.”

“Which begs an answer to the next question,” Steve said. “What are we going to do with all these people. Here… Caldwell.” He touched the map. “Thousands of people. Most of them displaced as it is, lost their homes, we open the fence, they walk out, then what? What are they going to do? To be honest, they’re being fed and cared for in that prison. Freedom is a good incentive but so is living.”

“The United States is huge,” Gus said. “There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of small towns not even on the radar of the Procs. We get them there. Spread the word.”

“We’d have to get the towns on board first,” Steve said. “Find them. Secure them, before we even liberate the camps and lead the detainees there.”

“Then what?” Troy asked. “We get them there. Then what? Convince them to fight with us?”

“I don’t think that will be a worry,” said Gus. “This country was under attack, their homes were destroyed, family members lost, dead. After all that and then being taken prisoner, I don’t think they’ll say, ‘thank you’ and walk away. I think they’re gonna say to us, ‘what do you need us to do?’ They’ll fight,” Gus stated assuredly. “Once we get enough people that are over the shell shock and standing up for themselves, we’re gonna see a whole different war unfold.”

It was the seventh hospital General Liu had visited in just a few days. Dragging his aide around with him. He was grateful for the aide, Sergeant Huang. While Liu was quiet around him at first, Huang had not betrayed Liu or turned him in for veering from mission.

His mission went from restructuring effort on paper, to a humanitarian one that wasn’t acknowledged or allowed.