Ex-Patriots

Chapter 12 NOW

A huge crowd gathered a little before noon to watch the second Black Hawk land in the Pickford lot on the other side of the Melrose Gate. Thousands of people packed the streets and rooftops. A few of them glared at the helicopter as it settled down and the wind whipped up clouds of dirt and dust, but most of them stared in amazement. Some applauded.

St. George and Stealth stood on 3rd Street with the crowds behind them. She had slipped back into her cloak and the bullet holes vanished in its folds and gathers. Every now and then a shaft of light would slip through one of the dime-sized holes and St. George would feel his jaw tighten.

Barry sat in his wheelchair next to them. He’d powered down as a concession to Freedom’s people shouldering their weapons. Danielle lurked behind the chair. She’d given up on anyone helping her with the armor and stood with her head bowed and her arms crossed.

Freedom was a few yards away with his soldiers standing at ease behind him in a loose circle around their helicopter. The man in the suit was inside the circle. They’d insisted on separating him until they could have more troops on the ground.

The Black Hawk had barely settled when a second group of soldiers leaped out and loped across the pavement. Each of them carried the same oversized rifle with the bulky ammo box. They formed their own loose circle around their helicopter.

“Supporting units,” said Stealth. “Each positioned to keep us in line of sight.”

A woman with a collection of chevrons on her jacket gave a set of hand signals across the way to Freedom. He looked back at the man in the suit and gave a nod. The young man called John whispered a few words to the captain, and then made his way across the space to the heroes. Freedom followed a few paces behind. The man in the suit beamed a broad smile. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

“Sure,” said St. George.

“The Mighty Dragon,” said the young man. “This is a real honor. Wow.” His smile got broader. “Can I shake your hand?”

St. George was caught off guard. He held his hand out without thinking and the man pumped it five or six times. People cheered and applauded. “I’m going by St. George these days.”

The smile shifted. “St. George,” he echoed. “Clever. I like it. And you must be Stealth,” the suit continued. He stepped past St. George to stand before the cloaked woman. “You’re just as formidable as I’ve always heard. I’d love to shake your hand too, if that’s okay? No hard feelings?”

It was so unexpected; she held her hand out. There were more cheers and applause.

“It’s just amazing,” he continued. “You’ve saved so many people. People talk about superheroes and you think about fighting monsters and supervillains and stuff. You don’t think about things like this.”

“I’m sorry,” interrupted St. George. “I didn’t catch your name.”

The young man’s smile faltered and in that instant the hero realized the man in the suit was probably older than he was. “Sorry,” he said. “Caught up in the moment. This is just…It’s so rare we find survivors, let alone such a huge group with, well, people like you.” He straightened his tie. “I’m John Smith. Department of Homeland Security, seconded to DARPA and working with Project Krypton as…well…” He shrugged. “These days I just try to help out wherever I can, like most people.”

He took a few steps back until he stood near the soldiers. “Good job, Captain Freedom,” he said. “You and your people did great considering the opposition. I’ll make sure the colonel and Dr. Sorensen know.”

The huge officer gave a sharp dip of his head. “Thank you, sir.”

“St. George, Stealth,” said Smith, turning back to the heroes, “I believe you’ve already met our super-forces commander.”

“Captain Freedom,” said St. George with a smile. He rubbed his jaw and held out his hand. “So that’s the best name they could come up with, huh?”

“Captain John Carter Freedom, sir,” he said. He took the hand, gripped it hard, and gave a single shake.

“Ahhh. Sorry.”

The crowd, not hearing any of it, applauded again.

Smith broke up the awkward moment with more babbling. It was like nervous hero worship. “You can imagine our surprise,” he said to St. George, “when our sentries looked west on the Fourth of July and saw fireworks out over Los Angeles. Two miles over, as far as we could tell.”

“Yeah, I bet that was a bit of a shock.”

“Of course, we sent out a Predator to investigate,” he continued. “It was a little more disturbing when it stopped sending back telemetry and started pounding out ‘Radio Nowhere’ by Bruce Springsteen.”

Barry cleared his throat. “Told you it’d be memorable,” he said to St. George.

“That was you?” said Smith. “You’re Zzzap, yes?”

“Yes.”

The suit pumped Barry’s hand three or four times. “This is just such a great day. People are going to be going crazy back at Yuma when we report in. I mean, we had some wild hopes of what we might find out here in Los Angeles but…”

Smith stopped talking. Even the crowd sensed it and grew quiet. He stared at Danielle, his mouth open.

After a moment she registered the silence and raised her head to see what was going on. She glanced around, shrunk when she saw everyone staring, and finally registered the man in front of her. She blinked and opened her eyes wide.

“John?”

He lunged past the wheelchair and hugged her. “We thought you were dead,” he said. “Everyone thought you died years ago.”

She pulled away and stared at him with a look that was half amazement, half anger.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “After all that’s happened, you’re not going to say you’re glad to see me?”

Danielle smiled and bearhugged him back. “I am glad to see you,” she said.

Barry inched his chair out of the way. “Soooooo,” he said, “you two know each other?”

She released the man in the suit. “We…kind of dated,” she said with a smile.

This time Smith pulled back to look at her but also didn’t let go. “Dated? We were living together for six months.”

She pulled him back. The embrace lasted for another few moments and then his manic energy took over again. “This is…This is unbelievable,” he said. “We got the news your plane was diverting to Van Nuys and then no one ever heard anything from your team again. Not to sound morbid but, well, we all assumed you were dead and the battlesuit was a rusting statue somewhere.”

“The suit’s fine,” she said. She turned her head and pointed over at the scenery mill she’d converted to her workshop. “It’s right over there. I’d be wearing it right now but…” She shrugged. “You remember what it was like putting it on.”

“The suit’s here?” He blinked. “And it still works?”

“I built it to last.” She looked at the others. “John was my first liaison with the DOD. We met while I was building Cerberus.”

“I think most of us figured that out,” said St. George.

“We need to get you back to Yuma,” said Smith. He looked around. “All of you are welcome, of course. Captain, can we arrange to get some kind of cargo transport out here?”

Freedom glanced at Sergeant Monroe. The man took a look around the Plaza lot and nodded. “Yes, sir,” the captain said.

“One moment,” said Stealth.

Her voice cut across the festive mood. They all paused. The cloaked woman had moved, taking a position between Smith and the workshop.

“You are planning to take the Cerberus suit?”

Smith shifted his gaze from Danielle to Stealth. “Well, I just figured Dan…Doctor Morris would want to come back with us,” he said. “We’ve got better facilities, machine shops, and…well…” He looked at the redhead again. “You know.”

“I do not,” said Stealth. “Cerberus is an essential part of both our community and our defensive measures.”

Danielle’s brow furrowed. “Are you telling me I can’t leave?”

“I am saying—”

“Okay, let’s all stop for a second,” said St. George. He could feel the icy glare Stealth gave him through her mask. “Big day, a lot to take in, everyone’s a little over-stimulated. Not to mention,” he tilted his head at the crowd, “there’s a lot of people here who’ve been waiting for a day like this for some time now.”

“I agree,” said Smith. “We can talk about all this later. Captain Freedom, would your people like to say hello to the crowd?”

“Yes, sir,” said the huge officer. He turned to the soldiers. “Unbreakables,” he snapped, “dismissed.”

Their salutes shook the air. Then they moved to the crowd, shaking hands and hugging strangers. Some even posed for photos. St. George saw Billie Carter exchange salutes with one and the two began to speak at length about something.

Danielle dropped her voice. “What the hell are you talking about?” She looked at Smith. “Both of you, for that matter.”

“We should discuss this matter in private,” said Stealth. “It is not good for the civilians to see us argue amongst ourselves.”

“We’re not arguing,” said St. George. “We’re just talking.”

“I’m ready to argue,” said Danielle.

“Look,” said Smith, “I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn. I just got excited. This is like winning the lottery three times on the same day.”

“You were so excited to find us here,” said Stealth, “yet your first response was an assault.”

“Standard operating procedure, ma’am,” said Freedom. He loomed behind Smith and made the suited man look even less like an adult. “In an unknown situation, when you hear gunfire, your first duty is to protect your people and take control of the situation. I’m sure you can understand.”

“So you attacked us,” said St. George.

“Because you resisted our attempt to control the situation.”

“We resisted because you attacked us. Welcome to the real—”

“This country is under martial law,” said Freedom. “My authority here is absolute unless otherwise ordered by Colonel Shelly or the President himself.”

There was a moment of silence. His words reached some of the closer edges of the crowd and nervous whispers began to work their way through the people gathered to see the soldiers.

“Martial law?” said Danielle. She raised an eyebrow.

Smith cleared his throat. “As of July 2009, the country’s been under martial law. It still is. Nobody’s thrilled by it, but the fact is the military’s in charge. As the only known ranking officer in the American southwest, Colonel Shelly is the man running things.”

Stealth shifted her stance again. “What are you implying, Mr. Smith?”

“I’m not trying to imply anything,” he said. “I just think we all need to be aware of where things stand, with no confusion or illusions.”

“So the Mount is now under the Army’s control?”

“Technically, unless you seceded from the United States at some point in the past two years…yeah.”

“Which United States are you referring to?”

The question froze Smith and Freedom. It jarred the others, too. The man in the suit coughed once. “I…I’m not sure I understand your question.”

Stealth crossed her arms. “Which states are still united? California has not had a functioning state government for twenty-two months now. There are no social services in effect. No taxes levied or laws enforced. Its borders and lands are not maintained. As a state, California has ceased to exist by any possible definition. From our own limited reconnaissance, I can say with some certainty it is not alone in this respect. Alaska. Arizona. Florida. Hawaii. Massachusetts. Nevada. New York. Oregon. Texas. Washington.” She paused for a moment, then added, “The District of Columbia.”

Smith shifted his feet.

“So I ask,’ she continued, “which states are still running and operating to the extent they can form a united nation, one which you and these soldiers can represent?”

“Captain,” said Smith, “perhaps you could field this one?”

“Ma’am,” said Freedom, “it’s good that you’re reluctant to hand over everything you’ve saved. But let me assure you, we are here as representatives of the government of the United States. Our commanding officer is in regular contact with the President, who is still in office in principle if not the actual building. We represent one of dozens of military outposts which are trying to re-establish local governments and provide services.”

“Why has it taken you two years to do this?”

“Because, ma’am, believe it or not, you’re not the only people who’ve taken heavy losses.”

Smith cleared his throat. “Can I just say one more thing?”

St. George glanced between Stealth and Smith. Stealth nodded.

“I can’t really speak for the Army,” the man in the suit said, glancing over his shoulder at Freedom. “I’m a loose liaison at best. But I can tell you this is going to be good for you. We’ve got a lot to offer and I know the Army is going to want to offer it. We’re here to help. We’re not going to take everything you’ve got and leave you helpless like…” He shrugged and gave a smile. “Well, if you’ll pardon me saying it, like the military would in some bad zombie movie.”

Barry let out a loud cough and shot St. George a look.

“If Doctor Morris decides to come out to Yuma for a while,” Smith continued, “we’ll supplement your defenses with troops, weapons, whatever you need that we can supply.”

Stealth still hadn’t moved. “What do you propose?”

Something tugged at Danielle’s leg as Smith replied. Barry gave her a look. She bent her head to his. “What?”

“Seriously,” he said. “This guy?”

“What about him?”

“You and him? He looks like he’s barely out of high school and he acts like Burke in Aliens .”

Her lips pulled into a faint smile. “It was convenient, I guess,” she said. “We barely had anything in common, and he put his job above everything else.”

“I’m old enough,” said Barry. “You can just say it was for the sex.”

“Honestly, I don’t even remember the sex being that great. We were together for a few months while I was building the suit and then he moved out, left me with a drawer full of shirts he didn’t want, and that was it.”

“He didn’t even show up to end it? Not even a phone call?”

“Nope. We traded a few emails later. Guess we both knew it wasn’t working.”

“Want me to blast him for you?”

She laughed. It was the first time Barry had heard her laugh in months. The others glanced over and she waved them off. “You know what’s the worst?” she whispered to Barry. “I swore for ages I’d kick his ass the next time I saw him. Now it’s just so damned great to see someone from…from before all of this. Someone from the real world. Even if it’s him. Does that make sense?”

The man in the chair nodded.

“I can have another Black Hawk out here tomorrow,” Smith told St. George. “Two days, tops. It’ll take Doctor Morris and the Cerberus suit, plus anyone else who wants to come. You can meet Colonel Shelly, our CO, and we can all shake hands and talk about what we can do for each other.” He looked at Danielle. “We’ve got full machine shops out there and even some manufacturing facilities. There’s no way you can tell me the suit doesn’t need a full strip-down and cleaning.”

Stealth was a statue.

“Look,” said Smith, “they want to help. It’s their job, remember? Protect American civilians. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” He shrugged. “Do you want a tour of the Krypton base first? I’m sure I could set something up.”

“That might not be a bad idea,” said St. George with a glance at Stealth.

Smith nodded. “Okay. Do you want to do it yourself or have somebody else go?” He looked at Barry. “Didn’t I see on a television special or something that you can fly at the speed of light? You could be there and back before lunch, right?”

“I’m not that fast, but I could.”

Smith’s head bobbed again and he looked from the heroes to Freedom. “So how’s this sound? We send the three Apaches away so everyone feels a little more relaxed. We get another Black Hawk out here tomorrow morning. While we’re getting the Cerberus suit loaded and stowed, Zzzap flies out to Krypton, looks around, gives a yes or no. If it’s a no, he’s back here to say so before we’re even ready to leave. Does that work for everyone?”

They all agreed. Even Stealth gave a slow nod of her head. “I always wanted to fly to Krypton,” said Barry with a smile.

“Great.” Smith turned back to the huge officer. “Freedom, could you have someone report in and check on a helicopter for tomorrow morning?”

Freedom turned and barked out an order to Monroe. Monroe relayed it to someone else and a soldier broke from the crowd and headed for the Black Hawk. When Freedom turned back, Barry was in front of him.

“Have you ever thought of a shield?” Barry mimed something circular on his arm. “Maybe in a patriotic color scheme? It could really work for you.”

“If it helps,” said Danielle, “we ignore half of what he says, too.”

Stealth had vanished. St. George realized she was probably halfway back to her office by now. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. When he saw her next time he’d have to ask.

“This is amazing,” said Smith. The man had moved to stand near St. George as they looked at the celebrating crowds. “Sorry to sound like a broken record but it is. We’ve checked so many places and if we found twenty or thirty survivors it was a miracle.”

“I didn’t think we were special,” said the hero. “I figured every city had a few thousand survivors holed up somewhere.”

Smith shook his head. “I wish. Phoenix is a ghost town, same with Scottsdale, Mesa, Tucson. We’ve never been able to raise anyone at White Sands or Camp Pendleton.” He shook his head again. “You must have every living person in southern California here.”

“No,” said St. George. “There’s a group of about two hundred people down in Beverly Hills. They’re what’s left of a street gang called the South Seventeens. Real die-hards who refused to join us here in the Mount.” He shrugged. “We check in on them once a week or so, make sure they’re doing okay. And we still find a few survivors here and there who’ve managed to make it this long on their own, although…” He looked past the helicopters to the gate. “It’s been a while since we found anyone.”

“Hey,” said the younger man. “I know it’s been tough, but this isn’t the day to be getting morose. This is the day it all gets better. You saved all these people. You brought them through hell and got them home.”

St. George looked at Freedom talking with Danielle and Barry, the Black Hawks flanking the Melrose Gate, and the crowd mobbing the soldiers. “I guess we did,” he said.

“Hell, yeah, you did.” Smith gave him a punch in the arm. “Welcome back to the United States of America.”