John Ringo - Islands of Rage and Hope

“How much of it have you cleared?” Harry asked.

“Ten liners, two super-max, the rest ranging down, one helo carrier, sort-of cleared six towns in the Canary Islands,” Faith said, ticking off her fingers. “Bunch of piddly freighters and oil tankers. One oil platform. Gitmo and three…no, four islands in the Caribbean. St. Barts and Saba are only half-ass cleared. Anguilla and Statia are sort of chartreuse, maybe lime green. Still some betas running around but all the alphas are seagull bait.”

“And how much of that have you been involved in, Lieutenant?” a new officer asked. He had a thick accent and was clearly a Gurkha.

“Captain Dattahadur Thapa, Lieutenant Faith Smith,” Captain Whiteshead said.

“Sir,” Faith said, nodding. “And pretty much all of it, sir. I’ve been clearing in the Atlantic since before we hooked up with the Navy, sir. Over eight thousand hours combat time in the last nine months. Starting in New York, sir. Like I said to these gentlemen, there’s a video. So, again, how many troops are we getting? ’Cause we’re really bleeding for troops.”

“Seventy-two,” Captain Thapa replied. “We’re leaving twenty-six including myself and the chief warder. Will that do?”

“It’ll help,” Faith said, making another note. “Hell, we’ll be outnumbered. As soon as we get them back in shape. And retrain them on clearance.”

“Retrain Gurkhas, Lieutenant?” Captain Whiteshead said, smiling in amusement.

“Fighting infected ain’t the same as fighting people, Captain,” Faith said, looking him in the eye. “If you use the techniques you use fighting people, you get in the scrum. Which is fun, don’t get me wrong; bashing heads with a Halligan tool and chopping necks is what makes the job worth doing. But it ain’t getting the mission done. So, yes, sir, retrain Gurkhas, sir. Just like I had to retrain an SF sergeant and all my Marines, sir. Although at least Gurkhas know how to use a knife when they get in the scrum, sir. Which is when you really need a kukri. Nothing better for cutting off hands. Except a machete, maybe.”

“I…see,” Whiteshead said.

“May I inquire what the badge is, Lieutenant?” Thapa said after a moment.

“Master Boarder Badge, sir,” Faith said. “Struck post-Plague. Nine million feet of belowdecks cleared of infected, sir.”

“Nine million ?” Harry said.

“Estimated, sir,” Faith said. “I got it after only two super-max cruise ships, the Iwo and a couple of piddly ones. I’m not sure it was well thought out, sir. Stand by…” She held her earbud and nodded. “Roger. Understood. Bird’s on its way back.”

“Where is the ship?” Captain Whiteshead asked.

“Mouth of the river, sir,” Faith said, thumbing over her shoulder. “It’s nothing but wrecks from one end to the other, sir. Couldn’t safely get any closer. We talked about doing a water insertion but we had the helo so…”

“Even getting through to the Traitors’ Gate would be tough,” Harry said.

“I have, trust me, done crazier shit, sir,” Faith said. “But we had the helo so we took the easy way. I’ve got to do a rope insertion tomorrow and I’m still arguing for fighting our way in on foot. Do not like rope insertions. Stand by, please, sirs. Gunny! Bird’s on the way back! Chalk ’em up!”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Gunnery Sergeant Sands yelled.

“You guys okay for ammo?” Faith asked. “We’ve got a bird coming back after this and we use Barbie ammo if you need some.”

“Barbie ammo?” Captain Whiteshead said, confused.

“Sorry, sir,” Faith said, tapping her M4. “Five-five-six. Also seven-six-two. Barbie ammo for five-five-six ’cause it’s a Barbie gun,” she said, tapping the weapon again. “And it don’t kill infected for shit. I’m carrying my Saiga tomorrow. Stand by… Kodiak, Shewolf, over… Need the ammo drop… Roger… GUNNY!”

“Ma’am?”

“Ammo drop coming in on this bird! Get some bodies!”

“Aye, aye, ma’am!”

“Figures the colonel would anticipate me,” Faith said.

“Can you cover some of the conditions outside, Lieutenant?” Harry asked. “Do you know…anything about the rest of the Royal Family?”

“We have a pretty good report, fairly confirmed, that your grandmother passed away, sir,” Faith said gently. “Pneumonia from a non H7 influenza. I’m sorry for your loss never cuts it, but…sorry for your loss.”

“I see,” Harry said, shaking his head.

“Other than that,” Faith said, shrugging. “We’ve got about four thousand or so that we’ve picked up one place or another. Started with small boats and life rafts, then liners and small towns. If we can get the vaccine produced we can vaccinate the sub crews and that’ll be another four thousand or so. We just…find people. And get the ones that want to help helping. We sort of dumped most of the people we found in the Caribbean on Statia. Most. Oh, you may know some princess named…Shit…” She stopped and pawed through her notebook. “I just call her Rapunzel…long story…Julianna Gustavason?”

“Julianna survived,” Harry said, nodding. “That is good to hear.”

“Also some other actresses and stuff,” Faith said. “Found them on St. Barts. Anna Holmes for one. Anna’s actually along on the float. But…the world is a very screwed up place. Just got to keep pushing the ball. The more people you have, the more you can do. We couldn’t have done this two months ago. Well, we probably would have figured out a way. We do. Okay, I suppose I should start with: “There are three command posts left, American, Russian and Chinese. American is the Hole in Omaha. The NCCC is Under Secretary Galloway who was something like a hundred something on the list. Russian and Chinese are similar. You’re the most senior people we’ve found of the Brits. We’ve got one former…congressman sort of? Like military police?”

“Member of Parliament?” Whiteshead asked. “MP?”

“That’s it,” Faith said. “One of them. Most of the subs were uncontaminated and they’re closed up. They’re surviving on fish. No serious land areas cleared. There are some people forming in various places but…you gotta have a lot of ammo to clear much land and even civilians in the U.S. don’t have enough. And we got a lot, trust me. We had ten thousand rounds when we started and it burned up fast. My dad is LantFleet which is, yeah, part of the reason I’m an officer. The other reason is I’ve been doing this since right after the Fall and I’m getting okay at it, I suppose…”

“Permission to poke my head in the cockpit?” Harry asked.

The last lift was going out. Staying behind were twenty Gurkhas and ten Warders. The Warders were all former military, all veterans and all determined that whatever happened, the Tower would remain in British hands.

“Grab the jumpseat,” Colonel Kuznetsov said, pointing to it. “Colonel Nikifor Kuznetsov, Your Highness.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Colonel,” Harry said.

“Captain Milo Wilkes,” Wilkes said. He was piloting the bird. “Pleasure to have you aboard, sir.”

“Very glad to be out of there, Captain,” Harry said. “I shouldn’t feel that way but being trapped like that was… unsettling.”

“You’re the first people we’ve pulled out of a city,” Wilkes said. “It’s… unpleasant. I can’t believe the fire damage.”