Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12

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Authors: Dirk Patton
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housed 155 mm guns, but now
they were empty and overgrown. 
    “This is going to be a target for the Russians.”
    The Governor’s voice was whiny as he stepped farther away
from the gravel road.  A large truck carrying an anti-aircraft missile
battery rumbled past and into the tunnel.  Behind it was a long line of
heavily laden trucks, grinding their way up the primitive trail that was carved
into the side of the mountain.
    “Yes, sir.  It probably will, but there will only be
military personnel inside.  You and your staff will be in Battery
405.  It’s 200 feet below ground and will probably be the safest place.”
    “Then we should go there,” the Governor said, sounding
relieved.  “I don’t know why you’re bothering to show this to me.”
    Glass took a deep breath, trying to hide her exasperation
with the man.  The Admiral had asked her to give him a quick tour of the
defenses that were being set up to protect the island, but the Governor seemed only
to be concerned about his personal safety.  Not once had he brought up the
topic of the plight of the civilian population during the coming Russian
invasion.
    “I’ll take you there next, sir,” she said in a tight,
professional voice.  “But we have to wait until these trucks have cleared
the road.  There’s no other way down.”
    “Can’t you have a helicopter or something come get us?”
    She looked at the man.  At the obvious fear on his
face. 
    “No, sir.  There aren’t any available.”
    As if to punctuate her statement, a flight of several Apache
helicopters roared overhead.  They were escorting a dozen heavily laden
Chinooks that were transporting equipment and personnel from Pearl Harbor to the
mountain top.  Turning away, she looked out at the ocean stretching away
from the island.
    Hundreds of boats of every size carved white scars into the
blue water.  The other islands were being evacuated, the people being
consolidated on Oahu.  There weren’t enough ships, planes or men remaining
to defend all of the islands in the chain.  Meghan didn’t think there were
enough to protect the one island which was the last outpost of America.
    It was only a few minutes later when one of the trucks
ground to a halt next to where she was standing.  A large radar antenna
rested in its bed.  The passenger door opened, and three men who had been
crammed into the cab climbed down.  With a grinding of gears, the truck
moved away, and they quickly crossed the gravel track to where she was
standing.
    Glass came to attention when she saw the eagle on the Army
uniform of the man leading the way.  He waved at her to relax as he walked
up to face her.
    “Colonel Blanchard,” he said.
    “Sir.  Commander Glass,” she responded, taking his
outstretched hand.
    The quarantine that had been imposed on Blanchard and the
troops he’d brought from Nevada had ended as soon as Packard saw what the
Russians were planning.  The Admiral had placed the Colonel in charge of
the island’s ground defenses.
    “Are you in charge here, Commander?”
    “No, sir.  I’m escorting the Governor on a quick tour
of our preparations.”
    Blanchard’s eyes slid over her shoulder and took in the
nervous man standing a few feet away.  As quickly as he looked, he
dismissed him and returned his attention to the naval officer.
    “Carry on, Commander,” he said.
    Turning, he looked into the tunnel, then stepped close to
Colonel Pointere, who had a large pair of binoculars pressed to his eyes as he
surveyed the surrounding jungle.
    “Brutal terrain,” Blanchard commented.
    “Damn brutal.  For the fucking Commies,” Pointere
growled, then lowered the glasses and raised his arm to point.  “We put
men all along the top of these two ridgelines.  That gives us control of
the valley leading up here.”
    Blanchard took a moment to look over the terrain, then
nodded.
    “Agreed.  But, we’ve got seven more locations to
defend, plus Battery 405 and the

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