***
Billowing dust trailed the Humvee roaring along a dirt road through the mesquite-brush desert of southern New Mexico. The crackling heat made the Hueco Mountains shimmer in the distance. Tank troop Captain Victor Suarez was behind the wheel, sweltering in full combat dress from boots and desert-tan fatigues right up to his standard-issue dark sunglasses and fabric-covered Kevlar field helmet. He glanced at his second in command, Lieutenant Joe Abercromby, in the passenger seat. Crom looked as hot as Suarez felt but there would be no bending of the dress codes, no out-of-uniform duty today. They had to be at the ready. Suarez wondered how Crom was feeling. Sweaty? Sure, that was normal on the training grounds of Fort Bliss. But apart from the heat, how about scared? Another glance told him Crom looked calm enough, although you couldn’t really see anything behind the dark glasses. Of course, if Crom felt anything like Suarez did, then you might as well call it fear. Neither Crom nor anyone else had said anything about being scared, but everyone in Fox Troop was acting that way. As their leader, it was Suarez’s job to know they were worried and confused by orders that told them to stop their tank training exercise and sit still in the desert. Orders that told them to take cover and keep silent. Orders that told them to await further orders that never came. And orders he and Crom were now defying because of smoke they had seen rising in the sky since just after daybreak.
They had left their column of Abrams M1A2 tanks ten miles behind on the target gunnery range to come on this unauthorized reconnaissance drive together, understanding that they would back each other if they were caught and court-martialed. The order they were disobeying had come from headquarters over the secure encrypted channel. It had read, “Abort training exercise. Establish defensive formation with camouflage cover. Maintain strict radio silence and await further orders. This is not a drill. Condition RED.”
Condition RED. That meant War. Real War. But with whom?
Captain Suarez’s tank with the name “Fox One” stenciled in black on its desert-tan cannon barrel, now sat smack in the middle of the desert under camouflage netting as part of a defensive ring of M1A2 Abrams main battle tanks and Bradley armored personnel carriers. That armor, plus transport trucks and support vehicles, made up his command: a hundred twenty-five fighting men and 27 machines; Armored Cavalry Unit F, code-named Fox Troop.
They had been detailed to target practice because their proficiency had fallen short during the previous week’s training. Remedial gunnery was an embarrassment to Suarez personally, but he had intended to correct Fox’s shortcomings by making them the most effective shooters in the entire battalion. They still had a way to go but they were hard workers and he was confident they were the best troops a commander could hope for.
The thing was, they had sat still today on the target practice range until the desert heat had them all about to go stir-crazy. And following the sun as it rose up the sky was that damn moon, with that blue laser light. Didn’t matter who, tankers or truckers, medics or Humvee drivers, they were all asking Suarez what it meant. The moon laser reminded everyone of the target-designating lasers on their tank gun barrels. Didn’t take a military genius to come up with that idea, or to know it meant trouble.
And then there was the smoke cloud. Long and black, it had stretched across the sky to the south of them through the morning without letup. It was right in the direction of their Army Battalion Headquarters at Fort Bliss on the outskirts of El Paso, Texas. That’s where the cloud rose from and that’s what worried them most. It kept growing until it stained half the sky a foreboding black. Everybody in Suarez’s own tank had popped up to have a look at it and make worried noises. His driver, his gunner and his loader had all begged him to go find out what was going on and then get Fox Troop moving again. They were getting buggy from the heat and low on rations. Most importantly, if there was action they wanted to be in it.
And the radio silence was too complete. They hadn’t heard a peep out of headquarters since the first message bringing the orders that now kept the troop motionless. Other than that, the team in the communications vehicle hadn’t heard a thing on any military channel. They hadn’t even been able to pick up the usual police band and civilian signals. Nothing. When their link to the global-positioning satellite network crashed, everybody agreed it was way too quiet out there.
The countryside through which Suarez drove was studded with low desert ocotillo and mesquite brush. It was almost flat on the desert floor between the mountain ranges, except there was just enough curvature to the terrain that you couldn’t see any great distance ahead. When they finally reached a rise where they could get a look to the south over the remaining five miles to Fort Bliss, Suarez gasped.
“Sweet mother of Jesus!” He stopped the Humvee on the crest of the rise and stood up through the open top to take in the scene. The entire Army base and adjacent airstrip were billowing thick black smoke. He reached for his binoculars as Crom stood up beside him, and together they looked in silent horror at what lay in front of them. It confirmed the worst fears that had run through everyone’s mind this morning.
“This is for real, man,” said Suarez. “Fort Bliss has been taken out.”
From the vantage point of the rise, he could scan his binoculars across the entire broad Rio Grande Valley below him to take in a frightening scene. Buildings all over the base were either burnt black or still billowing smoke and flames. And over it all the sky was streaked with the long black cloud that surged out of the ruins and towered straight into the stratosphere.
A bolt of fear swept through Suarez as he realized that his family, Maria and the kids, were closer than he was to the danger. Quickly, he swept his binocular view across the flat landscape until he found the family barracks area. To his great relief the little neighborhood seemed undamaged. Nothing was wrong with the rows of stuccoed houses or the streets lined with cottonwood trees as far as he could tell.
“Hey,” he elbowed Crom. “Take a look at the barracks. They’re okay.”
“I know. I’m looking at ’em.”
Suarez took a moment to glance across the river to Ciudad Juarez in Mexico. It was mostly unharmed, with just one or two small columns of smoke rising. His grandparents were probably okay then, too.
He turned his attention back to the military base. What had been the headquarters office buildings and communications center the day before were now burning piles of rubble. Nearer to Suarez, at the airfield, a fuel tank burned furiously, shooting orange flames hundreds of feet into the air and sending billows of inky smoke skyward. Yesterday there had been rows of jets, transport planes and an Air Cavalry Battalion of attack helicopters along the edge of the airstrip. Today each aircraft was a pile of wreckage set in a circular patch of charred pavement.
As they watched, another bluish-white light beam emanated from the moon and lanced downward to strike an intact fuel storage tank just beyond the airstrip. At its touch, the fuel tank ripped apart in a tremendous detonation that sent up a mushroom-shaped fireball. Then the beam leapt quickly across the airstrip to a damaged jet fighter that hadn’t been demolished completely in previous attacks. In seconds the jet too was enveloped in flames. Then the beam vanished as quickly as it had appeared and the quarter moon floated silently in the eastern sky.
“I can’t believe it.” Suarez shook his head in grim disbelief. “That light from the moon is bad business, whatever it is.”
“Russians?” asked Crom. “Chinese? What are they doing up there?”
Suarez’s mind boggled. He tried to imagine what he would tell his troopers when he got back to them. They had known instinctively that the light was trouble, but how it fit in to the Condition Red alert hadn’t been clear until now. What he was seeing was beyond belief, beyond reason.
“What the hell is this, anyway?” he wondered. “The Apocalypse?”
Crom sat back down in his seat. “Come on Vic, let’s get moving. I want to go down there and see my wife.”
Suarez sat down slowly an
d put his hands on the wheel. He wanted to go home too. He wanted to rush right down there and get Maria and the kids and split for the hills. But he needed a moment to think. Something gnawed at him. Crom watched him expectantly.
“No,” he finally said. “We’re not going down there. We’re going back to the troop.”
Crom’s face fell. “You gotta be kidding. Our families are down there. Come on Vic, there’s no one giving us orders anymore. Headquarters is blown away! I want to see Jessica. I gotta know she’s okay.”
“If we go down to see our families, Crom, I know you won’t come back to the troop with me.” Suarez felt the corners of his own mouth turn down to match Crom’s scowl. What they had to do next would be painful for them both but that was too bad.
“Look, Crom, you’re not in command here. If I said, ‘Okay, let’s go down there,’ then you’d be off the hook. You could go home if you wanted. But I can’t do that. I’ve got the responsibility of command.”
Crom was starting to look frantic. “What are you saying? We’re supposed to leave our families down there and hang out in the desert? You’re crazy, man. What if they’re in trouble? What if they’re hurt?”
“Then I know you won’t be coming back with me.”
“How can you be so heartless, man?”
“I got a heart in here too.” He touched a thumb to his chest. “And it’s aching to know about my own wife and kids. But I know my duty. And duty comes first.”
“No, it doesn’t. Not now. Not when everything’s in ruins. The chain of command’s busted, Vic. Just let me go have one look.”
“No. If the chain of command is busted, then it starts again right here.” He touched the thumb to his chest again. “You and me are still in a chain of command, even if we’re the only link. I can’t go down there and I can’t afford to lose my right-hand man. We’re going back to the troop to wait for orders.”
“Orders? There aren’t going to be any more orders. There aren’t ever going to be any more orders.” Crom yanked on his door latch, kicked the door open and got out. “You go back to the troop if you want. I’m walking home from here.”
Suarez’s temper flared and he kicked his own door open. “Hey, man! You stop right there.” He caught up to Crom, who had started walking quick-time down the road to El Paso. “This is insubordination,” he shouted. “I read about it in training manuals but I never expected it from my best friend.” He squared off in front of Crom, resisting an urge to pull his pistol.
“Out of the way,” Crom gave him a shove with all his might and that was enough. Suarez doubled his fist and swung it, catching Crom on the side of the chin and knocking him down into the dust.
Crom sat up, shook his head, pulled off his sunglasses and rubbed his jaw. There was a fierce but pained look in his eyes, one that mirrored Suarez’s own feelings.
“Look,” Suarez began. “We gotta think about more than just ourselves.” He extended a hand down to help his friend get up.
“What about our families?” Crom asked as he took the hand.
“Maybe the only way we can help them is to keep the troop together.”
On his feet again, Crom thrust his hands into his pockets and turned away to stare at the base. Suarez heard him cursing under his breath almost too faintly to be heard. He put a sympathetic hand on his friend’s shoulder but Crom shrugged it off.
“Come on, man,” Suarez pleaded. “Get back in. We gotta remember who we are. We’re soldiers. It’s our job to follow orders. Let’s get back to the troop.”
Crom hesitated another moment, letting one frustrated sob escape his throat. Then he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, put his sunglasses on and got in the Humvee. He slammed the door, folded his arms across his chest and stared down at his feet. There was nothing more to be said. Suarez turned the Humvee in a tight circle on the shoulder of the road and pushed the accelerator to the floor. As they sped back in the direction of the troop, he glanced into the rear view mirror and caught a glimpse of his neighborhood shrinking into the distance. He could just make out the roofline of his own house, still untouched by the beam and shaded under the arch of the black cloud. It almost looked peaceful but it gave him a pain in his chest worse than any gunshot could have.
Good-bye, Maria, he thought. God keep you and the kids until we meet again.