Life Goes On by Tayell, Frank (large ebook reader txt) 📗

he was talking to her team, or to the passengers on the bus. The figure who jumped out wore dark blue naval fatigues, a stained bandage on her forehead, and a Ta Moka tattoo on her chin.

“Kia ora,” Tess said, exhausting one quarter of her Maori vocabulary.

“When do the other planes arrive?” the New Zealand sailor replied.

“We flew out of Perth,” Tess said, approaching the woman. “They said the refugees were gone. Only five thousand soldiers and three ships remained.”

“I’ve five thousand ready to go, right now,” the sailor said.

“You’ve got five thousand refugees still here?” Tess asked, as the ship fired its cannon.

“I’ve five thousand kids expecting an airlift which should have begun at dawn,” the sailor said. “There’s another thousand wounded, waiting in the cathedral, and twenty thousand volunteers who said they’d fight but only as long as the kids, the sick, and the old were taken to safety.”

“Damn,” Tess muttered. “Canberra doesn’t know. Clyde, get Mick.”

“I’m here,” Mick Dodson said from right behind her, with the rest of her team right behind him. “I heard. I’ve seen,” he added, pointing at the bus.

Tess followed his finger and saw the terrified faces of the children who were no longer crouched low in the seats, but were staring at her, and their far-too-small plane, with forlorn disappointment.

“Have you got fuel?” Tess asked. “Can you refuel this plane?”

“Of course,” the sailor said.

“Mick?”

“Ditch the cargo,” Mick said. “I’ll need webbing, ropes, straps, anything you’ve got to keep the kids in place.”

“Sergeant, unload the carbines. Get our gear off the plane. Elaina, Bianca, get those kids lined up and ready to board as soon as the pilot gives the go-ahead.” She turned back to the sailor. “When the plane arrives in Perth, Mick will organise the airlift. But it’ll take sixteen, maybe twenty, hours before the next plane arrives.”

“I was told the same thing by a pilot yesterday,” the sailor said.

“Perth thought the civilians were gone, so redirected the rescue-planes to the Andaman Islands,” Tess said. “Once Mick brings them this news, they’ll send help.”

The sailor nodded. “Our orders are to protect the refugees. We’ll hold until relieved,” she said.

“I guess we’re staying, too,” Tess said. “I’m Commissioner Tess Qwong, Australian Federal Police. We’re in pursuit of the people responsible for the outbreak, the nuclear war, and an attempted coup in Australia. We’re supposed to pick up a Canberra-class warship here.”

“Commander Kuara Tusitala, executive officer of the Te Taiki. We’re the only warship here.”

“There are no U.S. frigates?” Tess asked.

“One was sunk a week ago. The other set off in pursuit of the pirates,” Commander Tusitala said, just as a distant cannon-thunderclap echoed from the ocean. “We’ve two fuel-freighters, a lot of dhows, but we’re the only combat vessel.”

“You said pirates, is that with whom you’re engaged?” Tess asked.

“Zombies,” Tusitala said. “They’re approaching from the south.”

Tess turned to look. Having expected to rush from the runway to the ship, she’d only taken the briefest of glances at the map. She recalled Inhambane was on a curving, bulbous peninsula. Immediately to the north, and twenty kilometres to the east, was the sea. To the west was a wide river-estuary. To the south, the headland narrowed, but then joined the African mainland.

“Where’s your fuel supply?” Mick asked, coming over to the pair.

“Mick, when you get back to Perth, you need to organise an airlift,” Tess said.

“No worries,” Mick said. “I need this runway extended. Double its length. Knock down those buildings. Level the ground. Flatten it if you can. You’ve got sixteen hours. Plan-A is I find more planes which can land on this runway as it is. Plan-B is flying in with every 777 I can find in Oz. We’ll pick up the kids and fly them on to Diego Garcia.”

“The runway was submerged, Mick,” Tess said.

“But waters recede,” Mick said. “We’ll land, and push the planes into the lagoon. Or maybe it’ll be Mauritius. Depends on what and where we can secure. We’ll use as little of the fuel here as we can, because there’s no way there’ll be enough. I’ll get the kids out. Get the injured out. We’ll get a ship underway. Those two freighter ships I saw at sea, are those fuel tankers?”

“Diesel-transports,” the commander said.

“We need those ships, and that’s how we guarantee Perth listens,” Mick said. “So I better get back there before Anna leaves.”

“Who?”

“The deputy prime minister,” Tess said, relaxing an inch. “I’ll explain later, but I can guarantee this will get done. We’ve got M4-carbines, ammunition, and some Special Forces soldiers in our team. Where would they be most use?”

“The bridge in the south,” Tusitala said. “Luis can take you. I’ll get your fuel.”

“Check your boots, Tess,” Mick said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tess took a deep breath, and turned around. Bianca and Elaina were each now carrying a bandage-wrapped child off the bus. By the driver’s door, the olive-green-clad driver stood, watching, his brow furrowed, his left arm rubbing his right which was held tight across his chest in a splint and sling.

“G’day, I’m Tess, are you Luis?” she asked.

“Luis Magaia,” he said.

“Bianca, Elaina, get the kids to the plane,” Tess said. “Everyone else, get those crates of ammo and carbines aboard the bus. We’re going to the front. Luis, can you show us the way?”

“I can drive,” he said.

“With your arm in a splint?” she asked.

“Perhaps I could drive, sir, and you could navigate,” Clyde said with practiced diplomacy.

Tess was the last to board the bus, entering at the back, and found them two passengers too many. “Leo, I don’t think you and Dr Avalon should come with us,” she said.

“We’re no strangers to war zones,” Leo said, opening a crate of M4-carbines. “We’re where we need to be.”

“Ugh,”