Title: For The Grace Of God (1/?)
Author: Faline
Rating: PG for now
Timeline: Post series, follow up to 'Admitting One's Destiny'
Summary: Beck's got a real war on his hands now and there's far too much going on to be thinking about anyone. Especially not a female. Especially not Heather Lisinsky.
- - - - - - - - - -
He was home, when it happened. Not real home, but base. Fort Polk. Louisiana. Home was in Colorado with his wife and child. They were intending to visit for the weekend, just a few days off.
It had been not even two weeks when the division had returned stateside and it had to coincide with a new recruit cycle. Of course. Exhausted, in every possible way, he was talking with his wife when the phone cut out.
Supremely irritated, Edward Beck had tried to redial, getting no dial tone whatsoever on the cell. So, he picked up the landline.
The running steps in the hall outside his room picked at his ears and he rose from his desk, pulling on his coat, and stepping out in to the hallway. The PFC almost bowled him over without even seeing him.
The young man didn't even pause. A mumbled apology and he was around the corner and gone. Beck was tempted to go after him, make his day a little horrible, but something felt off to him. His spidey sense was tingling, as Mallory would say.
The thought of his daughter brought the lost phone call back to his mind. His feet carried him to the office next door quickly. A Major Reynolds's office. He'd yet to meet the man, having always arrived at a different time than the other. Reynolds wasn't there now and he continued, just walking right out the door.
The yard was in chaos.
Brigadier General Felton was yelling. This was unusual on base. The General was one of the quieter CO's that Beck had worked with. But he was sure worked up at that moment. He had a bevy of first and second lieutenants rushing away from him after getting rushed instruction.
Beck hurried over.
It took him a few minutes to be noticed. What he heard in the meantime chilled his bones. The US had been bombed! Shock stole the warmth from his body as the cities hit were listed off by people nearby with radios.
"Captain Beck!" Colonel Hoffman's voice caught Beck's attention and he turned crisply and saluted his direct CO. Hoffman returned it and beckoned him away from the General.
"Have you heard?"
"Yes sir!"
The Colonel nodded thoughtfully and continued leading Beck away. They were headed for the Colonel's office. "We're not sure where the attack came from and at the moment, we don't care. Dallas was hit, so we've got about four hours before the fallout hits us. Get your troops in formation. We need to start battening down the hatches."
Another quick solute and the Colonel was gone, disappearing inside his office building. Beck watched the door close before he turned and started off towards his company's barracks.
It seemed as though they had just finished storing all the gear that was left on the ground when the winds picked up. The storm clouds could be seen rolling in from the west and time was running out.
Three of his sergeants had supervised the men, getting them in to the fallout shelter located under the mess hall. His last, a taller man with lean features, Thames had remained outside with him, watching the sky.
"Sir, do we know of any other bombs? The men are all frantic, trying to find out if their families are safe."
Beck glanced at Thames, hearing the worry in the man's voice. His eyes were still skyward, not really feeling the need to directly address his CO. Thames was a good man, and an even better soldier. He was always finding the next thing to accomplish before the first was even done which made him one of the most speedy workers in the company.
He'd been promoted as soon as they'd returned from the sand pit.
The look on his face was unlike his usual stoic nature now. Panic almost. Beck knew the man had a wife of his own who'd stayed in his hometown in Illinois. He seemed to remember Thames mentioning a son, born a few months in to their deployment.
"Word is spotty at the moment. We're getting information in slowly though. We know of twelve so far. Atlanta, Boston, LA, Denver, Dallas, San Diego, Baltimore, Houston, Seattle, Norfolk, Chicago, and DC."
He said the last two a little slower to allow the man time to digest. Thames' eyes turned slowly to him and the panic washed out in to horror. "But, DC . . . that means . . . "
Beck nodded. "The President is dead." He placed a hand on Thames shoulder. "Come on Sergeant. We need to get inside."
The sound of rain drops followed them along the metal roof all the way down to the shelter. Beck checked the door after a private closed and locked it, ensuring that it was properly shut.
- - - - - - - - - -
The sound of rain startled Beck awake. The black of the night enveloped him and the humidity in the air caused a brief moment of panic to flutter in his stomach. A few deep breaths later and he rose to a sitting position. He brought a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
He hadn't dreamed of the first day in months. Not since they'd been stationed indefinitely in Fort Hayward. Before he'd come to Jericho.
Beck's feet swung over the edge of his cot and he leaned his elbows forward, bracing them on his knees. Those first few days had been hard. Chaos had erupted everywhere at once. The small town right off of base had flooded their gates as soon as the rain had let up. Two thousand scared and angry men, women, and children all banging for entry.
Beck wasn't even sure what had happened with the townsfolk. Within an hour of the end of the rain he was on the road with two other companies, headed west.
Just west.
Everywhere. Just chaos.
He rubbed his eyes trying to wipe away the images of the towns and cities and the camps. Especially the FEMA camps. As those thoughts invaded his mind he stood and pulled on a pair of shorts. Walking to the door to his tent, he pushed on the canvas.
The awning over his entrance made a fantastic wind tunnel and his skin slowly cooled. It was just a spring shower.
It would do the land good. Renewal being so fantastic and all that.
He guessed the time to be roughly four AM. If the clouds hadn't been there, he'd be able to just see the beginnings of the sun's ascent. As it was, he knew the guards on duty by sight and knew they had drawn the short stick for the week, getting stuck with the third shift. The shorter one, he was a reader. His nose was buried in some book and Beck should go yell at him.
He'd taken it easy on his men. Their country had just betrayed them as well. Aside from a handful that refused to listen and had been stuck in a safe house a few miles on the other side of town, his company was in agreement. The ASA was not the rightful government.
He sighed and turned to go back inside.
It had been exactly four days and about fourteen hours since finding out the people who'd been supervising his army as well as this country were corrupt. Four days and fourteen hours since he learned that his wife and daughter had been dead for months now.
Beck supposed, again, that it was at least a relief to know that they weren't going to be out there, abandoned, when the next civil war broke out.
The re-enforcements that Valente had promised would arrive had not made an appearance yet. The secure connection between his office in Town Hall and the Cheyenne office had been severed the day after Jake Green had smuggled a nuclear device in to Texas.
A Morse code message from Cheyenne, with the strangest encryption his men had ever run across, assured him that troops were on their way. As soon as they could travel the roads. Whatever that meant.
Beck wouldn't hold his breath for their arrival. He would, however, hold his breath for the scheme the town had come up with to contact their man in Texas. A small contingent of mechanics, electronics, and computer nerds were trying to fix up their only remaining HAM radio to broad cast to San Antonio.
Beck wasn't sure how they'd get an encrypted message across these airwaves, but damn if he didn't like watching them work.
He shook his head at that thought. Of course he liked watching them work. Heather was the ring leader. Of course. He dropped the shorts and wandered back to bed. The covers were unnecessary at the moment and he kicked them happily to the bottom of his bunk.
Heather. The very thought of who had been one of the very few ways he'd made it this far. Heather who had secured the support of the townsfolk and made them see that he really wasn't evil. Heather who had wiped away his tears.
Although alone in the tent, Beck blushed at the memory. For someone always used to being in control, it seemed a shame that the one time he'd probably been able to allow someone else to see his fragile grip on it, they happened to be the one person he absolutely shouldn't be involved in.
At least not right now.
With a fight on the way and still no way to contact either Texas or the command out East short of driving there Beck needed to not think about her or her incredibly soft hands. His men, and the people of this town, needed him to be there.
He'd survived countless clashes with hostiles. He'd been to Iraq and the Mog and the Czech.
Heather Lisinsky was far too dangerous to think about.
His eyes closed and he was determined to catch the last hour and a half of sleep he wanted before getting back to not paying attention to Heather.
To Be Continued
