I.
David set the green duffel down next to the towel he had just laid out a moment before. He looked out at the ocean and removed his rose tinted sunglasses. They seemed to be the only color left at the drug store where he had stopped to pick up a Styrofoam cooler and a six pack of beer. The irony of the glasses seemed not to be lost on the advertiser's display stand, and neither was it lost on David.
The gulf seemed to extend off to infinity. The aquamarine water, which would normally be crystal clear and leave an unfettered view of the floor of the gulf, was clouded by the hulking cruise ship to is left. Calypso music drifted on the light breeze. David settled with a crunch on his towel and he began to unzip the duffel to reach the cold six pack nestled inside.
Footsteps approached from behind David just as he has twisted the top off the first beer. Shit! He thought to himself as he replaced it in the cooler, his mind already coming up with a good story should he get questioned. A second later David chastised himself for acting like a kid. He was old enough to drink, college graduate, and a naval officer. Albeit, never served aboard a naval vessel, but he finished his submarine training and was heading to a ship. His speech nearly completed at this point, he was ready to give the Key West beach patrol, or whoever they were, a severe tongue lashing. What he was not ready for were the two BDU clad sailors that were approaching him.
"Excuse me, are you active duty?" The first sailor asked. David glanced at them. Both enlisted, one a First Class, the other a Second Class petty officer. No use in trying to lie. The haircut gave it away. Besides they were probably shore patrol and saw me open the beer. Again, why am I so worried about the beer?
David thought, maybe I can use rank to get out of this. "Yes sailor, I am. I am an Ensign actually, what can I do for you."
"Sir, all active duty military personnel have been ordered by the NAS commanding officer to report to the base auditorium at 1800 hours tonight."
David breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, I am not stationed here. But thanks for the heads—"
"Sir, ALL active duty. Whether you are attached to NAS or not, must attend this briefing. All branches including the coasties or reserves. Do you know where the auditorium is on base?"
David had done the cursory tour when he came down here, had reserved a pontoon boat for tomorrow from Sigsbee Marina. He remembered where the auditorium was located.
"Yes, I know where it is. What the hell is going on? I am supposed to report to King's Bay in a week."
The two sailors looked at each other with hidden masks of disgust on their faces. "With all due respect sir, maybe you should try turning on the news. Things have gotten ugly over the last day or so." The second class took out a clipboard.
"Sir, what is your Name?"
"Ensign David Anderson."
David sat in place trying to figure out what just happened. It was true he hadn't been paying attention to the news, and why not? He was on leave. The world could go piss up a rope for the next week. He stood up, dusting his hands off once he was up. He then dusted off his legs, which were covered in sand.
Isn't it funny, he hadn't done anything but walk down the beach and sit on a clean towel. He thought to himself. He bent over and dusted off his legs. He grabbed the towel and duffel on the way back up. He looked out at the beautiful view once more, marking all of the women lying out in their bikinis.
What the hell is going on? He thought to himself. The only thing out of the ordinary the last few days that he could remember were some racial tensions due to some associations of the president. I know I am sworn to obey the orders of the commander in chief, but that guy was really an idiot. It had gotten so bad that there were demonstrations in the streets that got violent. People ending up getting hurt, sometimes seriously, just marching in the street. I guess it's time to go watch CNN.
Cursing softly under his breath, David flipped his towel over his shoulder and began walking back toward the Jeep. He reached up and pulled his sunglasses off. Suddenly the world did not feel so rosy.
II.
David walked out of the shower, quick toweling off his close cropped head of hair. Wrapping the towel around himself, he listened to the television in the adjacent room. He had rented this small condo on an island just east of Key West. Originally the plan was for not just him, but several of his new buddies from prototype up in New York to come down and accompany him on this rabble rousing good time. Unfortunately, their orders hadn't been as liberal with their time allowances, so David had decided to just go it alone. At least he wouldn't need to worry about any noise should he meet someone on the beach tomorrow. That is depending on what this meeting tonight is about.
He couldn't imagine what they would want all military personnel, active and reserves, all mustered together at the base at one time? I mean, there were special forces guys, Top Gun pilots, even coasties for drug interdiction ops. What the hell could be going on to require all personnel, whether stationed here or not?
At that moment, he could hear the show coming back from commercial. David grabbed his boxers and made his way back into the great room of the condo. He glanced at the television to see a raven haired woman in what appeared to be a red pantsuit broadcasting from the rooftop of some urban area. Sirens can be heard going off at random intervals, and faint trey fingers of smoke can be seen reaching into the sky beyond her.
"Maria, can you hear me?" Asked the male reporter.
"Yes John, I can hear you fine."
"What can you tell us is going on Miami?"
Miami, David thought, that is just 130 miles or so from here.
"Well, all I can say is that the city is pitched in chaos. As you have heard reported from other large cities: Los Angeles, New York and Chicago, there seems to be roving masses of people who have turned from peaceful protests against the president into rabid violent attacks against the city and its populous."
"Maria, what can you tell us about these mobs? Do you know what sparked them to become violent?"
"All th officials we have spoken to—" There is a loud crashing, like a fire door being broken off its hinges off camera. Incoherent yelling and cursing follow suit. Maria looks off camera and motions for he camera man to move back. The picture becomes unsteady as it is obvious the camera is no longer on a tripod. "Excuse me John, but it seems a mob is trying to get their fifteen minutes of fame" She laughs nervously, "But as I was saying, no official sources have any comment on this growing public concern. Earlier John, we spoke with the public affair officer for the Miami-Dade Metro Hospital system, Jennifer Haynes, and she informed us that while the hospitals were very near capacity due to these violent attacks, they were still able to help everyone that came thought their doors. John I –" The crashing was much louder now, even though the news team seemed further away. The cries and curses David heard from the television became a howl of fury. Maria said, "Get the hell outta here," and ran straight forward off camera. The camera man had the same idea and half dropped, half threw the cameras to the ground.
Meanwhile a mass of people came running toward the camera.
A split-second before CNN switched away from the broadcast, several things happened/ First, the splitting screams of abject terror came though with cruel clarity, as did the splintered cries and curses of her attackers. Additionally, the bloodstained bodies and injured body parts that explained the stains came into view as the masses ran by the camera. Most injuries appeared to be bite marks. David Shivered. The also seemed to bu scratches, cuts, the occasional missing ear or eye, and even a few broken bones. None of this seemed to matter, and all this detail in a mere moment.
David suddenly had the whole scene play out in his mind. The fire door bursting its lock from the shear force of so many bodies. Before the door can even slam back to the wall, the mob is out. They home in on the sound of the woman in the red pantsuit, and begin their attack run.
On hearing the door finally bust open, Maria wastes no time running for the other end of the building. Where should I go? She thinks, and has no idea. She just continues to run in the opposite direction. She is faintly aware of the heavy breathing of Rob, her camera man for the last six years at CNN, coming from directly behind her.
Suddenly she reaches the edge of the building. The damn Channel 8 affiliate that was supposed to be safe, even though bands of those monsters roamed outside. She thought briefly of jumping, and spun around to see Rob fighting the first five. He threw a couple hooks that took out the two front runners, and tried to bare hug the next three, corralling them so that they could not get to Maria/ Maria saw one of them take a bit out of his left ear.
In the midst of it all she snickered and thought of the Mike Tyson fight she had covered years ago, where he took a bite outta the champs ear.
That was all forgotten a moment later when 3 attackers lunged at her with apparently to regard for life or limb. Maria, her balance lost, screamed that final terrified scream on her way to the parking lot below. The young women of top of her taking a huge bite from her nose prior to all four's hasty exit from this world.
David shivered again. He watched as the anchorman cleared his throat. "Ahem, we will try to catch up with Maria a bit later when things start to calm down. I would like to go to Jared Monson who has a status update on this civil unrest. Jared?"
"Thanks John, as you know..." The rest droned off into the background as David thought about what he had just seen, whether his mind's eye or his own. Dear God. What about my folks in Daytona? Whatever it was, it had already made its way to Miami. Granted there are a ton of tourists and immigrants that populate Miami, but still. If it had made to Miami.
Another mental picture flashed in his mind. This time it was not Maria who was being plunged off the building, but his mother. All five foot four of her, falling in what seemed like slow motion. The middle attacker grotesquely disfigured trio plunging his face at his mothers, biting down on her nose with a sinewy snap and ripping it away like Velcro. The other two were pulling hair away in bloody clumps.
David clenched his eyes shut and shook his head violently from side to side. Damn, he thought as he darted across the room to the telephone. Grabbing it he punched the numbers in without thinking. It rang, thank God! And rang. And rang. Come on, COME ON!
"Hello!"
"Mom, how are you--"
"You've reached the Anderson's! Please leave a message after the beep. Goodbye!" Then a click not a beep, "Mailbox Full"
"Dammit!" David cursed as he slammed the phone into the receiver. He remembered a conversation he had with his father not two weeks ago.
"Dad" he said, "It's a new millennium for chrissake! You can have a cell phone. The 'man' has no desire to track down the whereabouts of the elder Anderson. I have this on good authority, I work for the man." David smirked.
"Funny David, but I don't see the point in spending a hundred bucks a month on a digital leash. I like being left alone. Like the great shylock Chili Palmer once said,'If you're important, people will wait.'"
"Fantastic idea Dad. Base your philosophy of a John Travolta movie."
"Hey, it worked in the 80's, you're here aren't you?"
Sighing and rolling his eyes, David said, "Look, when I get to King's Bay, I will buy you guys one of those prepay jobs. No GPS, no bills, just emergency cell phone usage and your son will be able to get a hold of you. I told you guys, I may not even know when I ship out. I would like to at least say goodbye."
"Sure son, whatever you say. Listen, gotta go, Saturday Night Fever is on Flix!" David's father said chuckling.
David, snickering himself. "Alright Dad, talk to you later."
David's heart dropped. He picked up the television remote just as a map of the United States covered in red dots covered the screen. Flicking it off, enough bad news for now, he threw the remote back on the bed.
III.
Sweat ran in rivulets down Davids back, as he waited to get on the base. The south Florida sun was relentless, and he was currently reconsidering his decision to rent a Jeep Wrangler. Sure, Jeeps were great for the jungles of Asia, but for the asphalt atoll of upon which he was currently stopped—not so much. I suppose I could but the top up, he thought, but that just seems like an awful lot of work. Snickering at himself, he flipped the A/C from high to max. The traffic moved another hundred yards and he could see the entrance to the naval base up ahead, along with a uniformed sailor directing traffic. David could see the sailor waving people into the base and telling others to keep going. Even going so far as to step in front of a Denali when it tried to turn against orders. The Jeep crept to the sailor, who turned out to be a female, tall, blond and filled out her working whites quite nicely. Along side the pleasant surprise, she asked,"Military ID please."
David flipped his wallet out, showing his id through the cheap plastic.
"Thank you sir," David smiled at her,"You can pull right through there sir."
David started to put the Jeep in first, then said, "Thank you Petty Officer?"
"Williams, sir," she said, letting her guard down. He was an officer but what the hell. "Say, why don't you have your uniform on, Ensign Anderson?" She had read the name on the ID.
"Oh nice, remembered the name…well I am actually here on vacation."
"Lucky you!"
"I know right" Someone honked from behind the jeep, "Well, I will see you around Petty Officer Williams. David released the clutch and depressed the gas at the same time and the Jeep sprinted through the turn as another vehicle pulled up to Williamson.
David made another sharp right and saw a sea of cars. Another sailor was directing him to park in the Navy Exchange across the street from the auditorium. He pulled into th lot and looked at his watch, five thirty. I might as well grab a uniform while I'm here, he thought. Why don't you have one? I didn't think I would need one, and what was that they say? He then mumbled under his breath, "That's what you get for thinking."
He jumped out of the Jeep, walked over to the cement walkway, and followed it until he walked through the front doors. The inside of the Nex, which normally looks like mall department store. Everything from tools to neckties laid out with precision.
Today on the other hand, it looked like one of those everything must go sales had blown through. Items were in disarray on the floor, draped across counters, on racks, with the only tidy section being uniform items in the back. There was a line ten deep as well at the checkout line. He could only imagine what the commissary was like. I know things are bit sketchy right now, David thought, but let's get a grip people.
He continued walking back through the mess to the uniforms. A quick mental checklist of what he needed, and five minutes later it was all assembled on the counter top. He walked back toward the counter to get in line and spied his salvation. The "Active duty military in uniform are served at the head of the line," was prominently displayed on the wall behind the counter. David walked over to a dressing room and, paying special attention to keep the tags, changed into his uniform. He looked at himself. A bit disheveled and without a name tag, but at least I am in uniform. Gathering up his jeans, polo shirt and shoes, also remembering to put the tags in his pocket, David made his way to the counter.
IV.
"Ladies, Gentlemen, Sailors, Soldiers and Marines, please be seated or find an area to stand. The Admiral will be out in a few moments." David was standing in the aisle on the right side. Typical of most military gatherings, when the seats were full, everyone stood in the back. David made his way close enough to the stage that after the Colonel came off stage, he read the name tag, Larsen.
Moments later, a powerfully built man in his mid-fifties walked into view as a call of, "Attention on Deck," was called by the Colonel. The entire room hushed as all military personnel in the room stood at rigid attention. This would be the end of the lie-swapping portion of the evening.
Upon reaching the podium on the stage, the admiral said, "Please, be seated." There was a thrum as roughly two thousand people took their seats and another thousand shuffles their feat for what would undoubtedly be long evening.
"First I would like to introduce myself. My name is Admiral Caleb Simms. I am the new Commanding Officer of NAS Key West, Naval Reservation and Sub base." There were a few gasps at the mention of the Sub base and Naval Reservation.
"I am not going to sugarcoat anything. As some of you may have seen on the news, the civil unrest or plague, or whatever they have labeled it, is in fact much worse than the public has been told. We have severe outbreaks in all major American cites. From Seattle and Los Angeles to New York and Miami. Further, Canada, Great Britain, Europe and Asia all have cases reported, and what intel we have says that it is spreading even faster than here. The only continent that has no known cases is Australia, who closed and armed their borders. At this juncture,we have no successful treatment, either medical or psychological for this ailment. There is so cure."
Murmurs of concern & quiet side conversations erratically erupted in the seats. The Admiral, seeing this, took control of the situation.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, twelve hours ago the Whitehouse was overrun." Gasps, louder this time, erupted from the gallery. "Quiet, please," Admiral Simms continued, "Reports state that the President and Vice President fought along side their Secret Service personnel, but were mortally wounded. Speaker of the House Mears has assumed his role as President. His first directive was implementation of Directive Continued Freedom. From this moment, the entire length of the Keys, from Key Largo to Key West is under military quarantine. Checkpoints will be established at all bridges to prevent spreading of the 'condition' into the quarantine area."
"All civilian law enforcement will fall under the command of base security, currently commanded by Colonel Larsen. A dusk to dawn curfew has been implemented for all civilians not on official business. Finally, we are to become a safe port for our ships in the Atlantic and the Gulf. Therefore, the Naval Reservation and Naval Sub base has been reactivat—"
There was a low rumble from outside the building. The Admiral stopped for a second, began to lean over to the Colonial, and a vibration ran through the floor. Looking at the the crowd briefly, a mask of annoyance painted on his face, the admiral leaned even closer to the Colonel. With no regard whatsoever for the thousands of people in the auditorium, the Admiral screamed at the Colonel. "Larsen, what the fuck was that?!
Larsen, keeping the cool marine facade, responded, "I have no idea sir. Felt like an explosion."
"Like hell you don't! Didn't you and your Recon platoon leader discuss an explosion idea this very morning?"
"Sir, I can assure you, we would never defy your orders."
"Larsen, when I find out what the hell happened, you had better hope your name is no where near it, or I will stick you so deep in the brig, you will forget sunlight."
"With all due respect Admiral--"
"Shut up" He turned to look where David was standing. "Ensign, what if your name?"
"Ensign Anderson, sir"
"Anderson. Are you stationed at NAS?"
"No sir, I am on leave from power--"
"Good," The Admiral interrupted. I want you to take the current base watch team out to survey whereabouts that explosion came from. It felt like a long way off."
"Uh, yes sir."
"Be careful, I have a suspicion it was a bridge. Take this," He grabbed the cell phone of the Colonel and typed a number into its keypad. "call me with your report as soon as you have one."
"Aye Aye sir."
The Admiral returned standing erect at the podium. "The current watch team will muster with Ensign Anderson immediately in the parking lot. He will coordinate you from there."
David had made his way to the back of the auditorium, pushing through the crowd that had moved up to hear the admirals rant. On his way out the door, he heard the Admiral say, "Ladies and Gentlemen, there seems to have been an explosion..."
He burst into semi-darkness with his mind reeling. What the hell is going on? The Admiral had ordered 'me' to do something? A lowly butter bar. I guess any old port in a storm. Also, what did he mean by, 'Are you not stationed here? Good.' He was still paying more attention to thinking than to walking when he ran directly into a Petty Officer.
"There are a lot easier ways to cop a feel than that, sir." The female voice said, followed by the assorted snickers from behind her. David was suddenly thankful that it was only a half moon, maybe he could play off the plum red face after his sudden realization of just where his right had landed. "Sir, it was a joke. I am sorry."
The snickers seemed to become deafening. "No, that's fine. Petty Officer Williamson, right?" He said solidly, then ruined the effect by clearing his throat.
"Yes, sir." She said with a smirk.
"Alright," he stated, buying himself time to look the scene over. There were four petty officers, pale white U.S. Navy issue Chevy van and Williamson. "As I see it, it will be a tight fit in the van for the six of us." He motioned Williamson to follow. "Which of you is senior"
"I am, sir, Johnson"
David glanced to Williamson and she nodded. He started,"Ok, Here is the plan. Williamson will brief me as we take point, and Johnson, you will follow in the van. Keep the strobe on, I want to know where you are at all times. If you see my brake lights, emergency flashers, me turning or anything, stop immediately. Do you understand?
"Yes sir." Johnson blurt out.
David continued, "What we are looking at here folks, from what I could gleam with my head apparently straight up the admirals ass in the front row," more snickers at this,"is that there has been an explosion up ahead. Now we will be scouting the area, and if it is a bridge, I do not want to end up in the warm waters of the gulf. Now who has a cell phone other than Williamson?"
"I do sir" Johnson replied.
"Johnson, didn't anyone ever teach you to 'Never Again Volunteer Yourself'?" Again snickers, I am going to have to be careful around here. These guys don't know what to do with cool officers, even lowly Ensigns. "What is the number?"
"Five-Six-Zero-Five-One-Five-One, sir"
David punched the number into the Commander's cell phone and punched dial. A popular tune that he just could place played out. "Ok, at least for this mission that will contact me directly. David stopped, he looked at Williamson to see if she had anything to add.
She did. "You guys wait at the gate in the van for us to lead, is this all clear?"
The small crew snapped to attention, and in unison, "Aye, Aye"
David and Williamson walked toward the exchange parking lot, where David had parked, in what seemed like years ago. He shook his head and laughed. I guess it just hasn't sunk in yet, he thought to himself.
As they climbed into the Jeep, Williamson was the first to break the formality. "Listen sir, I am really sorry about the 'cop a feel' joke," she was testing the waters here, and David could see the laughter in her eyes,"I did not mean to be so informal. I guess I just let my mouth get me into trouble sometimes.
David decided he would make her stew, he started the Jeep, and flipped the lights twice. When the van was behind them, he turned left onto A1A.
"No problem." David finally replied with a smirk. "Had it been anyone other than myself, it would have been funny as hell. As it is, I still think it's pretty damn funny. By the way, out here in the boonies you can call me David." There, he did it. What they tell you never to do in knife, for and spoon school. Piss on it. Things changed the minute the turned the Keys into a military safe house. He turned toward her, noticing the light of the setting sun playing in her dark eyes.
She giggled,"Ok David. You can me Heather." That laughter returned to her eyes, "Geeze David, on your first command you have not only managed to feel up your Leading Petty Officer, but you have also become too familiar, I can see fraternization in your future.
"This isn't my first command, I was also the head of my unit in officer school! And the way I look at it, if that truly is how the start of my first command is going, it'll have a hell of an ending." She looked at him with a raised eyebrow."Irregardless, we will talk more about that later." David said, changing the subject. "Keep your eyes peeled. We have enough light to see, but I think this sea breeze will blow any smoke away before we get there. I figure we got about a half hour of light left, give or take.
After a few minutes of studying the horizon, Heather asked, "So where are you on vacation from?"
David sighed, "Oh here we go." She shot him a glance,"Actually I am on leave before I report to my first ship. I was supposed to be in Kings Bay in a week. This was my post prototype graduation present. Nice huh?"
Heather responded,"You are the luckiest man alive. Think about it. Have you seen that shit on the news? I tried calling my family probably in Minnesota, probably a hundred times. Nothing ever happens there and I couldn't get anyone. I don't know what exactly is going on but it has got to be bad. I mean the whole keys became an isolated base." Just then two of the four lanes became immobile. A huge Winnebago blocked any view of the road ahead. The sign announcing the state park blocked even the shoulder view.
David put on his flashers. He turned and motioned Johnson to follow in the van. He started making his way through the sandy median of the state park. "Ummm, David, I don't think this is a good idea." Then as if to make her point, "sir." David kept the Jeep steady and easily pulled out into the westbound lane.
Partway into the median, the van's passenger tire burst on a sharp shell. David looked to see Johnson jump from the driver side door. An elegance dance between Chevy and Johnson. First, he bent down to look at the destroyed tire. In disgust at the apparently offensive tire, Johnson leaped and kicked at the same time, doing nothing to the Chevy but knocking Johnson down into the sugar sand of the key. David, barely able to contain himself yelled, "Johnson, we'll move ahead. Get that tire fixed and I will call you if we need you. Otherwise, just stay on the median."
"Yessir" Johnson answered while dusting himself off and getting laughed at to boot.
David put the Jeep in gear. "Heather, lemme ask you a question."David said driving the wrong way on the Seven-Mile Bridge. "Did you see any traffic go by in the last five minutes?
"No, but that doesn't mean--" She was cut off.
"With all that traffic eastbound backed up, something has stopped the bridge. And from the look of the traffic, both sides are stopped." David stated.
Heather stopped to think. It was weird that there was no westbound traffic. And all that traffic backed up onto the park. "You don't think that explosion was the bridge?" She was deathly pale. Making her dark eyes almost look black in the fading light.
"That is exactly what I think that explosion was. Further, I think the Admiral knew without having to look. Hence the reason we are on our mission."
"Well than be careful and watch were you are driving." She didn't have to wait long after to see if they were right. With about fifteen minutes of golden light they saw the bridge. Two spans of the bridge looked as though the had been surgically removed,
David thought back to his college days. He seemed to remember one class where they discussed shaped military charges. He stepped down from his Jeep and took a picture of the area leading up with the camera phone. He then crouched down near the site of the explosion and took a picture at the point of severing. Definitely planned. Most assuredly military execution.
Suddenly, Heather grabbed him by the shoulder. "LOOK!!" She screamed and pointed across the chasm. What happened next was so surreal that David had to look at the photos on the phone to prove to himself it happened.
The man was in his mid thirties. The man was wearing a dark three piece business suit. The man was running for his life. Behind the man, a small band of people gave chase. David could make outta guy in Bermuda shorts, a heavy girl in her late teens, and some homely housewife. They were all screaming incoherently. "What the hell is going on," David asked the air.
The man screamed, "God help me! Please Help!" He ran closer. David could see more closely that the man had a bloodied nose that ran to his chin. A limp was apparent, and his suit was ripped and torn, blood flowed freely from a fresh wound on his knew.
The gruesome details of the mob in pursuit were unfortunately in plain view. The plump teenie bopper's left eye was bouncing on her ample cheek. The skin of her lower jaw had been ripped away, leaving a gory maw. The guy in the shorts had three gunshots in his chest. They had bled down his torso. The housewife looked normal, except she reached out as she ran with her right arm, as it appeared the had had been ripped off.
Not believing his eyes, David's arm felt limp as he lifted the camera phone. Heather lost control and crouched on her haunches, all sense of reality lost. David clicked the camera as the man approached the far edge, yelling for help the whole time. The man stopped and turned, not noticing David. David clicked as he the mob rushed forward, yelling, arms outreached trying to grasp the man. Screaming as he did so, the man leaped off the ledge, into the water below. Click. The howling throng of people seemingly undeterred by certain death, followed, throwing themselves into the depths below. Click.
David ran to the edge, but all he could see in the failing light was the water churning below. Heather grasped his pant leg. "Jesus David, what just happened." She asked, confused and scared. "What the FUCK just happened?"
David's head spun. Images of the teenagers eye flopping up as she lunged over the edge kept replaying in his mind. He shivered, the hair on the back of his neck stood straight.. His mind then swam with questions. What the hell was going on? What was wrong with those people. His thoughts then drifted to the Admiral ordering him to see about the explosion. It was definitely professional, but who did it? What would have happened if those people had gotten over the bridge into the lower keys?
David suddenly realized that the cell phone was in his right hand. He looked down at Heather, and gently crouched next to her. He stroked her hair and wiped the tears from her face. First, I am going to call the admiral, then I am going to take you home. He gently kissed her forehead and sat back.
He selected the Admirals phone number and pressed send. Admiral Simms answered after the second ring.
"Go ahead," Simms commanded
"Admiral, the east and west bound lanes of A1A have have been blown, just past Bahia Honda.. It looks professional, sir."
The Admiral grunted in annoyance, "Continue."
"Yessir, but, umm, the next part I don't know how to describe. This group of, um, wounded people, were chasing a man on the other side of the gap. He screaming for help, afraid of being attacked He ran to the edge, and as he got closer I saw the wounds on the others. Gunshot wounds to the chest, missing eyes right from the socket, and limbs broken clean off! Sir, they chased the guy off, and then they went right in after him. All that I could see was some swirling water. The team is a bit shaken up." David played fast and loose here, but he didn't think it was too far.
"Listen Ensign, I want you to get your team out of there. I am sending civilian law enforcement to handle the bridge. We need your team back here. Get some rest and meet me in my office at 1000 hours. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir!"
See you then.
David looked down, "How are you doing?" He asked to Heather.
"Much better, wow did that really happen." She asked as David helped her up.
David could still see the terror in her eyes. "Yeah, but I think it's time for our little team to hit the showers."
"Oh yeah?" She asked, her playfulness coming back out.
"Admirals Orders" He said as he grinned at her.