There was a second click, and Rena’s voice came over his piece. “Sir, Mister Gervais has asked for an update on Springfield,” she said softly, though it wasn’t necessary. “My last update was that we had it well in hand. Anything I should add?”

  “You can tell him that we’ll be arranging a supply line in the next seventy-two hours,” he told her, confident that he could keep that schedule. And that was plenty of time to move enough personnel into the settlement that Welcher’s ‘martial law’ wouldn’t pose any kind of complication his people couldn’t handle.

  Rena’s connection clicked off, and a moment later the president finally picked her phone up. “Alan,” she said with a mix of relief and faked exasperation, “so sorry to keep you waiting like that, I had to run my FBI director out of the office.”

  He smirked at that. Doubtful she had anyone around her as she waited. It was annoying, but ultimately a good thing. A petty little play like that meant she didn’t have anything else at hand to throw at him; her position was precarious as it was, and she couldn’t afford to do anything that might make a real enemy out of him. “Not a problem at all. I was just getting up from lunch.”

  Welcher hesitated long enough that he knew she’d felt a pang in her stomach. “Excellent. Listen, Alan—my people picked up a woman from outside Lebanon. She’s been telling some of them about some terrible conditions there, making it sound like a concentration camp situation.”

  She paused. “I tried to calm everyone down, but some of my cabinet suggested we do a kind of… site visit. Something we can compile a report about, file it away, and toss to Congress if the question ever comes up. I’d like to arrange it as soon as possible. I can get an official inspector out to Lebanon in about a day.”

  As she spoke, Trusk idly pulled up Margaret Welcher’s Dimension profile. It estimated her at a B-class, and recommended low-level bureaucratic work, with a short list of options that included Supply Line Coordinator—along with a yellow flag warning that there was about a 24% chance she’d leverage the position to fill her own pockets. “Inspection is a strong word,” he said casually. “Is that what you mean to say? I can tell you right now, we don’t exactly have the luxury at the moment to live up to OSHA’s standards.”

  “Inspection is what the report would say,” she clarified. “We both know you’re running the best operation possible in this climate. But the thing is, Alan, it’ll only take one of my people going to Congress for them to take over and launch their own inquiry.

  “I want to head this off at the pass, get someone I’ve personally selected to be on it. Someone objective, of course, but also understanding of the conditions we’re all dealing with. I’ve got two people in mind off the top of my head. When can I send someone out?”

  So, she wasn’t entirely in control of her cabinet. And not confident that Congress would back her if they got an inside look at an Apex hub. That was a legitimate concern at this stage. He drew up the most recent status report on the Lebanon hub. A number of security issues had been flagged and recently dealt with. Troubling, but nothing TARA hadn’t accounted for and made appropriate recommendations to correct in the future.

  “By all means.” He fine tuned TARA’s settings for handling Lebanon up a notch. No sense in letting things get out of hand. “Send someone along whenever you like. I’ll have an ID issued, and they’ll have no trouble getting in. You can have Aaron forward a name and picture to Rena.”

  “I do appreciate the cooperation, Alan. This partnership is so important. For both of us. While I have you, I understand the Springfield operation is… all wrapped up?”

  He was careful not to let any amusement into his voice. “With a bow.” He switched back to the satellite feed. The infiltration unit was inside the wall now, clustered in position at the far eastern end of the settlement. He pulled up the text transcripts of their communications. Nothing alarming so far, and TARA was issuing tactical directives based on the observations they’d reported back.

  “Now if you’ll forgive me, Madam President, there are a handful of pressing matters I need to attend. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  There was another pause on her end. She did not like being dismissed. But she also wasn’t the only one who could play petty little power games. “Nothing at the moment. I’ll look forward to this first shipment out of Springfield.”

  “Very good. Have a pleasant rest of your day, Madam President.”

  He tapped his earpiece to end the call, not waiting for her response. A minor barb, but not enough to push her to retaliate in any meaningful way. On his tablet, an execution query popped up as TARA encountered the limits of its authority he’d set for the operation. Not that he didn’t trust his AI to make the right call at the right time.

  From time to time, he just enjoyed being the one to give the final order. He smiled, tapped the button, and sent his display to the larger screen on the wall of his study.

  It was a shame he didn’t think of stocking headquarters with popcorn before the apocalypse.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CALEB

  Springfield, CO

  Tuesday July 31st, 8:00 pm MST

  Caleb squinted into the dark to read the time on his watch. Lana should have finished by now, but he’d heard nothing. Knowing her, she’d take her squad and post up somewhere they’d have a clear shot at anyone coming into Springfield. But it worried him all the same.

  For the tenth time in the last half hour, he tugged his radio off his belt and lifted it to check in with her, then sighed and replaced it. Last thing they needed was too much radio chatter. No telling what Apex could pick up, and while their tower was up and working, they hadn’t had the time or equipment to set up any kind of security. Instead, everyone had their orders and schedules and had to carry them out as independently as possible.

  Including Lana.

  Boots crunched from his left, and he leaned over the railing half expecting to see her returning. Instead, Elizabeth strode up the road toward him, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, eyes down and pensive, brow pinched. He could guess at the reason for her grim expression. She’d been with Amelie’s people all day, managing the kids and arranging for hide-and-evade plans meant to be a last-ditch survival effort in the event everything went to heck.

  If it did, the chances of those kids or their caretakers managing to get far enough away, fast enough, and then survive whatever journey followed were… not great.

  “How’d it go?” He asked as she came close enough that he didn’t have to shout.

  Elizabeth paused, looking up at him as if surprised to see him there, and maybe surprised to be back at the house. She trudged up the steps to lean against one of the unpainted four-by-four posts at the top, her shoulders slumped.

  “I’m not even sure how to answer that. I guess it’s not something I’ve never had to deal with before. I had to lead school shooter drills. Those broke my heart, too, but it was… different. Preparing for something that might not happen, you know? Telling these kids how to… how to hide from people with guns, how to run for their lives, and knowing that there’s a good chance they’ll have to?”

  She looked away, shaking her head, and reached up to wipe her eyes.

  Caleb went to her. When he was in arm’s reach, she leaned automatically into him as he opened his arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head as she pressed her face to his chest for a moment before she let out a long, shaky breath and cleared her throat. She held him a moment longer before letting him go, rubbing her eyes with the back of her sleeve as her expression hardened.

  “We’ve got plans and contingencies in place. If everything goes the way we hope, none of the kids will have to run. No one else, either.”

  “Hope for the best, plan for the worst.”

  “And have a little faith,” he offered.

  She gave him a weak smile. “Yeah. That, too. Is Lana back?”

  He shook his head and brushed the radio at his belt with a thumb. “Not yet, no. We’re on radio silence for a while, though. It’s about to give me a stroke.”

  Elizabeth pursed her lips, and looked out toward the eastern end of Springfield, where Lana and her squad were meant to be working. “She’ll be fine. She’s clever. I wish she didn’t have to be. Not like this, anyway. How big a squad did she end up with?”

  “Thirteen. Samuels caved on two more rifles when none of them would back down. Plus Derek, of course.”

  His wife smiled faintly. “Of course. That’s good. Is he leading the squad then?”

  Again, he shook his head. “He didn’t even ask about it. I think he’s her second-in-command. He seems fine with it. I think it means he can watch her back instead of having her watch his.”

  She closed her eyes a moment, lips thinning as she held back some emotion. “That’s good. Makes me feel better about her being out there.”

  For a little while they were quiet together, staring into the starless darkness that made it feel like the town was going to sleep, even though chances were hardly anyone in Springfield would. There were only a few candles in windows, and anyone moving around the settlement would be doing it under cover.

  Apex wasn’t likely to launch a blitzkrieg, but it felt like that’s what they were prepared for.

  At length, Elizabeth leaned into him, and he put his weight against the rail to support them both. The throbbing at his temple dulled, his shoulder ache receded. She grounded him.

  “Are we ready for this?”

  Caleb wondered the same thing. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “But I also don’t know if it matters much. Not that we shouldn’t be prepared, but… whether we’re ready or not, this is coming. If you wanted to, though, we can still—”

  “No,” she said softly. “I know what you’re going to say, and… I need you not to say it. If you do, it’ll feel like permission, and it would be harder to say no. So just… no. We have to be here, have to stand with these people. We have something to fight for beyond just our family.

  “Those kids today… I couldn’t live with myself. And I want a future for Lana. Even if she’s got the military bug that bit you, I want her to have consistency. Friends. A home. We have that here, for now, and I want to keep it.”

  He tightened his arm around her shoulders and resolved not to ask. Though, if she’d wanted to leave before Apex arrived, he’d have understood. And, he realized, he would take his family away from this place if that was what they wanted.

  Wouldn’t even look back. Not that he didn’t care about Springfield or the people here, but on the scale of things, there were only two names on his list of priorities.

  The radio hissed at his belt. Lana’s voice came over, tense with worry. “This is Lieutenant Machert. Anyone have eyes on Diego? Someone find him and get him on the line, he’s not answering. Could be his radio is down, or he fried it accidentally. I’ve got a broken EMP unit and need repair directions ASAP, someone get eyes on him stat. Over.”

  Caleb snorted, and pulled the radio free, a half-smile on his lips. “This is Machert, I’m on it. Over.”

  “Thank you, Staff Sergeant,” Lana replied.

  Elizabeth chuckled softly, peering up at him as he replaced the radio and gave her a brief kiss. “She put that hat on fast,” she said as he withdrew and headed down the stairs. “Be safe out there.”

  “Diego’s shed isn’t far. Be back in a bit. There’s some dinner inside, better get it while you can. See you soon, Baby.”

  “I love you, Caleb.”

  He grinned and came back to the stairs for a real kiss. One that lasted. When he pulled back, they were both just a little breathless. He kissed her hand. “I love you too, Liz.”

  With that, she let him go, and he took off at a slow jog to find Diego and give him hell for being off his radio.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  LANA

  Springfield, CO

  Tuesday July 31st, 8:30 pm MST

  Lana tucked her radio back into its case at her hip, leaving it tuned to the general comms channel, and slipped the faulty EMP unit into her back pocket. “Let’s just get as many others set up as we can,” she directed, turning to wave her team back on task. Not that they’d stopped for even a minute since they started work that afternoon.

  It gave her no small amount of pride that they’d done as much work in just about six hours as they had. Piles of debris and unused materials were arranged from the gully, angling toward Springfield, making a perfect corridor to push any forces coming from the east. On the other side of the town, Samuels had his own security units spread around the places where there was good enough cover to mount a decent defense.

  Nearby, Derek rose slowly from where he’d set up one of Diego’s devices with a tripwire. “Wire set,” he announced. “No-go zone starts here. Where’s next, Lieutenant?”

  She gave him a slight smirk, but smoothed it away quickly. They were on a job, and there was no time to get distracted. He hadn’t batted an eyelash at her unofficially-official promotion, and didn’t seem to mind calling her ‘Lieutenant’, but she thought he put a bit of a tease in it each time he said it. That, or she was projecting a little.

  “Should be site 21.” She checked the grid chart with her flashlight. “Zone A-6, here.”

  He checked the grid as well, then looked toward the spot in the corridor. “Got it. Nothing from Diego?”

  She shrugged. “We had two EMPs go off on accident other than the ones we tested. Probably he just forgot to take the battery out of his radio and burned it out. He gets pretty single-minded. Here, this one should be working.”

  He accepted the unit she produced from her pack. He got about five steps away before they both heard the low rumble of an engine coming from the north and the road. No lights. Whoever it was, they were operating dark.

  “Scout?” Derek wondered.

  Lana’s heart beat faster, adrenaline already dripping into her system as she reached back and checked that the safety on her rifle was off, and tugged it forward from behind her back to her side, just in case. “That or the demolition team. Or… you know. Early arrival.”

  She heard the faint click of Derek’s rifle as he switched his own safety off. Around the area, a few more of her cobbled-together squad had looked up from their tasks as well. Lana raised her voice. “Let’s keep working. If they’re ours, they know not to come this way. If not, we don’t want to get caught in the kill box. Double time it, folks.”

  Derek blew out a tense breath. “Sounds like just one engine.”

  “Demolition should be set up already. Most likely the scout. That, or Apex is coming to make their offer.”

  “I better get this set up.” He began to walk away.

  It wasn’t the time for feelings any more than smugness, but the way Lana’s heart raced at the remote possibility that the incursion was about to start, she couldn’t stop herself.

  “Derek?” He turned to look at her, barely visible in the reflected glow of flashlights. She hesitated a moment, resisting the desire to gush about what he meant to her. It definitely wasn’t appropriate just then, and she didn’t want to let her squad hear or see her panicking. Still. “I’m glad you’re here. It means a lot.”

  “Told you before, Lieutenant,” he said, definitely putting a bit of tease on her rank this time, “I got your back. I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

  There was a lot in those words and, she guessed, in her own. However brief they might have been. Derek turned to finish planting his EMP, and Lana forced her attention away from it. Right now, he was one of twelve team members she had to look out for. No different than any of the eleven women she’d recruited.

  The radio clicked four times. Lana’s signal to move to the tactical channel. She plucked the radio up and turned the knob. “Delta unit checking in,” she announced.

  Two of Samuels’ units checked in as well before the news came down. “This is Mitchell checking in,” the scout told them. “Just got back from outside the eastern perimeter. Confirming approximately fifteen vehicles about five or six miles outside the outer checkpoint, holding position. Didn’t get a head count, but it’s those SUVs so… as many as a hundred and twenty if they’re packed like sardines. It’s… not good.”

  Lana’s heart picked up another pace. That was just the eastern road into Springfield. If the same number of agents were posted at the southwest and northwest roads, that could easily be as many as three hundred and sixty Apex agents.

  There were only a bit more than that in Springfield, including the kids. Between Samuels’ security team and volunteers, and including Lana’s own unit, they were potentially outnumbered around nine-to-one. Bare minimum, five-to-one.

  Her jaw hardened. It didn’t mean it would come down to a fire fight. If it did, though, there were plenty of ambushes and demolition points set up between them and the town. If they managed to get close, it was possible they could be whittled down enough to even out the disparity. Probably not entirely, though. “Delta unit,” she said into the radio. “Acknowledged, Mitchell. Glad you got back safe.”

  He didn’t answer, per protocol, and the other units gave their acknowledgements as well before she turned the channel back. “Lieutenant Machert here. Any word on Diego?”

  Before anyone responded, the sharp report of gunfire sounded in the night, snapping her head around. She tracked the direction. When another shot fired, she was sure of it, and a rush of cold flooded her veins.

  It had come from inside Springfield.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DIEGO

  Springfield, CO

  Tuesday July 31st, 8:30 pm MST

  Diego chewed on a three-inch length of copper wire as he carefully soldered down the trigger contact on a ten-foot range EMP he’d managed to scrape together along with about a dozen others. The faint scent of heated metal bit at his nostrils and managed to get to the back of his tongue. The wire probably didn’t help either.