Apache Dawn - - (classic fiction .TXT) 📗

decked out in blood-splattered green scrubs, who stared open-mouthed at the arrival of the SEALs. Cooper watched as the nurse nodded and moved back toward the plastic tent, eyes still on his grim-looking SEALs.

“The Chief of Emergency Medicine for the hospital is in with the President right now.” The pretty doctor pointed over to the corner. “Dr. Fletcher—he’s our top thoracic specialist—is resting. He’s the only other doctor that made it…down here…” She pulled off a bloody latex glove and extended her clean, soft hand. “I’m Dr. Alston. Brenda.”

“Master Chief Cooper Braaten, ma’am,” he said as he shook her hand. It was soft, in the way that women’s hands were, yet had a supple strength to it that sent electricity shooting down his spine at her touch. He had to force himself to remove his hand before the handshake turned awkward. He cleared his throat again and looked around, suddenly grateful to be watching his men talking with the agents as they helped to secure the perimeter.

Dr. Alston hugged herself and sighed. “You guys couldn’t have picked a better time to show up. When those soldiers arrived and started shooting everyone…”

“Ma’am, you don’t know the half of it.” Cooper shook his head. “I never would’ve believed what I saw outside if I hadn’t lived through it. I need to talk to the President.”

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Alston said with a genuine look of sorrow on her face. “He’s got a really bad fever. He’s actually delirious most of the time…”

Cooper frowned and looked around the basement, trying to organize his thoughts. He’d never before had to fight himself to remain on mission. Every time he glanced at Dr. Alston, the world seemed to grow brighter.

Goddammit, sailor, there’s a war going on! Think about the doctor’s ass some other time! It is pretty nice, though…

“We need to move him, now,” Cooper said in a tone he immediately regretted. He hadn’t felt so flustered like this since high school for cryin’ out loud. “This basement isn’t secure enough. Hell, the damn city isn’t secure. No, we gotta get him out of Los Angeles.” He put his hands on his hips and rolled his neck. After a satisfying crack, he sighed and said, “We put a hurtin’ on the NKors, but they’re gonna be crawling all over this place pretty soon.”

Jax walked by and smiled at Dr. Alston, reloading his M60 in stride. “The North Koreans are easily frightened, but they’ll soon return…and in greater numbers,” he said in his best Alec Guinness voice.

“I’m serious, Obi Wan,” said Cooper. The lopsided smile on his face softened the tone of his voice. Dr. Alston actually giggled. It was a sweet sound that made him really, really wish the North Koreans weren’t out there trying to kill them all.

A balding, elderly man burst from the medical tent. He appeared to be in his mid-sixties with a fringe of unruly gray hair orbiting his gleaming dome of a head. Obviously in charge, the short man bustled promptly up to Cooper. He pulled the mask off his face and fixed Cooper with a suspicious glare hooded by the biggest, bushiest gray eyebrows he had ever seen.

“I’m Chief of Emergency Medicine, Dr. George Honeycutt. Can you tell me just what in the Sam Hill is going on around here?”

“‘Hell’ about sums it up, sir. The President—can he be moved?”

The older doctor snorted a laugh. “Moved? Hardly. The poor man is barely holding onto his life. We’ve got him so pumped full of Tamiflu and…” He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know if we can even control the fever.”

“It’s the mystery flu that’s hit all up and down the West Coast,” offered Dr. Alston with a concerned look on her face.

Cooper nodded to hide how upset was at himself for letting that look on her face affect him so much. He soldiered on. “We were briefed that someone had weaponized a strain of The Pandemic and deployed it to the West Coast. Maybe New York and Chicago, too—at least, that was what we heard before we lost all contact with the outside world.”

“Who are they?” asked Dr. Alston. “The soldiers that attacked?”

“North Korean marines,” said Cooper. “Probably some of their spec-ops thrown in for good measure. I don’t know; they all died the same.”

“Hooyah, Master Chief,” grunted Mike with a smile as he and one of the agents walked by carrying a heavy piece of equipment for the barricade.

“Look…we need to get the President out of here. They know he’s here; that’s why they’re trying to take this place. We cut a good and bloody swath through them to reach you, but as I told Dr. Alston here,” he flashed a smile at her, “there’s bound to be more coming. We’ve got to be gone when they come back.”

“Can’t we just hold out till reinforcements arrive?” asked Dr. Alston.

“I’m afraid not, ma’am. I think the NKors are invading.”

“Invading? Los Angeles?” asked Dr. Honeycutt.

“America,” Cooper said, hardly believing his own voice.

“Apache Dawn?” asked Dr. Alston. She looked around. “Jesus.”

Cooper felt like he had been slapped. How the hell does she know about Apache Dawn? She grinned and Cooper felt his heart flutter.

“I was a combat medic in the Army. Did a tour in Iran, went to med school in the reserves, and here I am. I stay in touch with some friends who stayed on for another tour…” Dr. Alston sighed. “I just got out last week,” she muttered, looking around the basement.

“What rank?” asked Cooper. He was more impressed with her every second. He noticed with alarming satisfaction that Dr. Alston didn’t wear a wedding ring.

“Captain. And back on the front lines, it seems.” She frowned, creating an endearing little crease between her eyebrows.

Dirt and chalky smelling concrete dust drifted down from the ceiling as the ground rumbled beneath their feet. Emergency lights flickered. Conversation stopped as everyone looked up and then at the person next to them.

Cooper nodded. “Then I’ll give you the straight dope, ma’am. We’re deep in the yogurt if we can’t get the President out of here. We were dodging incoming ICBMs, jets on bombing runs, and cut through a company of NKor marines out there, just to get inside this building.”

“My God…” whispered Dr. Honeycutt.

“Mark my words, this is no small ‘international-incident.’ This is a well-planned, seriously coordinated, large-scale offensive action. They somehow took down our global comms—I’m talking net-wide. I can’t raise HQ at all—no signal on the sat phones, either. Everything is dead—except squad radios. We’re on our own here, folks.”

“What are we supposed to do, then?” said Dr. Alston, a hand raised to her mouth. Cooper suddenly felt angry that her hand was trembling slightly. He reined in his emotions and looked back at Dr. Honeycutt.

“First, you have got to get the President stabilized. Second, we’ve got to get the hell out of here and find a better place to hole-up. Preferably a military installation.”

“Well, where did you guys come from? Can’t we just go back?” asked Dr. Honeycutt.

“Negative, sir. We flew in on small helicopters. Two were shot down.“

Dr. Alston gasped. “Shot down? With what?”

“Stingers, we think. Or the North Korean equivalent.” The Chief of Emergency Medicine’s blank face prompted Cooper to explain further. “It’s an infantry weapon, a shoulder-fired heat-seeking missile. Very accurate and highly portable. They were on the rooftops waiting for us.” Cooper cleared his throat. “It was an ambush; we never had a chance.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Dr. Alston softly.

Cooper keyed his throat mic. “Charlie.”

“Yeah, Coop?” said his XO, moving up next to Cooper. He shouldered his rifle and nodding a greeting to the doctors.

“Oh, there you are. Hey, what’s the closest base around here? Anything. I’ll take a damn Coast Guard station.”

“Uh, Los Angeles Air Force Base, I think.”

“I believe that’s near Inglewood,” offered Dr. Honeycutt.

Cooper rubbed his chin. “Distance?” he asked Charlie.

A quick check with his wrist-mounted maps and Charlie looked up. “Little less than 20 miles. Down by the coast, El Segundo.”

“I like the coast,” said Cooper. He lost the smile and turned to the doctors. “You need to have the President ready to move as soon as possible.”

Dr. Alston looked at her boss. Cooper noticed the little crease between her eyebrows was back. Dr. Honeycutt shook his head. “Young man, I can’t tell you if he’s going to survive the hour, let alone be ready to move any great distance.” He snorted. “We’ve barely got him stabilized. We need the vaccine if he’s going to have even a fighting chance.”

“Great, where’s the vaccine? We’ll go get it for you,” offered Charlie.

The two doctors looked at each other and shared a sad expression. “I’m afraid you can’t, son,” said Dr. Honeycutt. “It was in Atlanta. All of it.”

“Of course it was,” said Charlie.

“El Segundo is still our best bet, then,” said Cooper. He pointed at the docs. “Get him ready to move as soon as you can. We’ll secure transport. We need to be out of here, pronto.”

“Son,” said Dr. Honeycutt, putting his hands into his lab coat pockets and adopting the air of the professor. “I think—”

“Doc, don’t give me that ‘son’ bullshit.” He waved a hand at his SEALs. “I did not lose half my men to those North Korean fucks and then fight our way to the President—only to sit here and watch him die. We’re going to have