Gilead is Doomed
Snow flurries pummeled the jeep on both sides. Nick Blaine had thought the East Coast winters were bad, but they were sprinkles compared to the Rockies. The further he and Commander Lawrence drove from Colorado Springs, the worse the roads and the landscape became. Nick had heard most of the damage wasn't from the war, but from guerilla activity afterwards. If so, General Haddaway's Army of the Rockies was definitely a force to be reckoned with. Every building they had passed for the last three hours was a bombed-out ruin. Every now and then they saw the word Wolverines spray painted on a burned wall. Gilead appeared to hold the cities, but the rebels controlled most of the high land from New Mexico to the Canadian border. From all accounts they were savage fighters who struck at night leaving unholy terror in their wake. This was all good news; the Resistance needed all the allies they could get. If he could secure communication and an alliance with the Army of the Rockies, it might just mean enough firepower to convince the rest of the world to openly battle Gilead.
"I'm no good to the Resistance frozen to death," Lawrence said for the third time that hour.
Nick swore inwardly. Struggling to keep the vehicle under control, he handed Lawrence a handwarmer. "Go easy with those things. We can't waste them. The chemicals are good for making bombs."
"How do we know this isn't a trap? There could be Eyes and Angels laying in wait for us. We could be driving to our death." Lawrence had said that several times every hour ever they left Boston.
Nick reminded him of the deal that had been struck "We don't, but communications from the Army of the Rockies has never been breached before. General Haddaway's message was clear. Two representatives. We come in person. And we come alone."
"You know, the Army of the Rockies calls themselves Wolverines," Lawrence said. Lawrence never just made small talk about what was obvious.
"So?" Nick responded.
"It's from a 1984 action-adventure movie called Red Dawn. Watching that will give you a way better understanding of the Cold Way and the Reagan Revolution, then most history texts. It's important intel on Haddaway whose rumored to be a mad butcher." Lawrence said.
"Gilead propaganda," Nick said.
Lawrence's voice lost the snark. "Not from what I found out in Colorado Springs. Of course, partisans don't have the supplies or the infrastructure to maintain P.O.W camps, so who can blame them for not wanting to preserve resources that their enemies will only exploit even if those resources are human. War is dirty business, Millennial."
The massive wall of rubble and metals was where the Army of the Rockies said it would be. They hung Angel corpses from the outcroppings. It reminded Nick of the Wall in Boston except the message was different. They were taunting Gilead. Come get your dead, if you're brave enough. The Colorado Commanders had declined this invitation. Nick wondered if Boston was fully aware of the situation out West. It was probably better if they weren't. He stopped the jeep. The wind howled around them. "Why do they have all these piles of tires?" he said.
"Beacons or maybe war machines. Set the tires on fire and they'll burn for hours. The smoke would be visible for miles in the worst weather." Lawrence said.
How did a freaking economist get so knowledge about guerilla warfare? Lawrence was an enigma wrapped in puzzle left in a maze. But Nick knew he needed the man if he wanted to keep June and his daughter safe. Then Nick's blood froze. A laser dot was on Lawrence's forehead.
"Looks like the Wolverines found us," Lawrence said without any change in his voice.
Haddaway's soldiers moved fast. He and Lawrence were pulled from the jeep, handcuffed, and hooded before Nick realized that the snowbanks, he had drove past had been winter camouflaged guerillas.
He heard Lawrence's voice. "We're going to die."
"Only if you don't keep your mouth shut," a voice answered. It sounded like a woman's voice. Did Haddaway have women combat soldiers? A few former handmaids or jezebels with bayonets could certainly explain some of the horror stories he had heard whispered throughout western Gilead.
The guerillas loaded them onto sled. For a long time, he felt the wind racing past them, so there had to be some form of mechanized vehicle pulling the sled. What he didn't hear was talking. Except for the one threat to Lawrence, the Wolverines knew to keep quiet. Nick's anxiety only heightened. It all could be trap like Lawrence suggested. These weren't mountain hunters and survivalist holdouts, but well-trained soldiers. But why would the Eyes send them so far from Boston even for an elaborate trap?
When the soldiers finally removed the handcuffs and hoods, they were deep underground. There was no easy way of escape, but at least they were warm again. "We are going to die," Lawrence announced again.
Nick stared at the high ceiling above him. This wasn't a dugout made by pick axes and shovels. "What was this place?"
The computer in Lawrence's head went into action. "Cold War, I would say. Maybe one of the command posts the Nuclear Contingency Group made. My ears haven't popped, so we're not nuclear bunker deep, but this place can survive conventional bombing or at least what we have left of an arsenal to bomb with."
Then Nick heard something amazing, a crack of fear in Lawrence's attitude. "There were silos in the Rocky Mountains. Our computers couldn't take over their servers. If this isn't a Gilead base, Haddaway may have access to nukes. Better hope to whatever you believe, Haddaway isn't a lunatic." Lawrence said.
"The General's a genius. While Gilead looks to the Middle Ages, Haddaway's preparing for the twenty-second century." The voice came from a well-shaven officer whose tight hair-cut seemed pulled from a recruiting poster. "The General will see you now." The officer spoke crisp and clean. He was either an elite rebel soldier or an Eye.
Walking to the General's office fear swirled in Nick's stomach. This was either the strongest rebel base inside occupied territory or a virtuoso trap for rooting out rebels inside the state. Once he entered the office, the swirls converged a tornado. One corner was covered with Gilead material, statues, flags, furniture. It could be battle trophies no one had bothered to arrange or it could be office décor waiting to be put back in place. General Haddaway was shrouded in darkness, but looked to be medium height and slightly stout. About what should be expected for a middle-aged General.
"Well, well, what have we here? A tenured academic radical and a pretty boy. How the world does change?" The voice was hauntingly familiar, but not in a good way. Nick searched his memory feverously. Had he possibly encountered Haddaway at some point when Gilead was forming?
"Nice eyebrows, Millennial," General Haddaway said before stepping into the light.
Aunt Lydia! Aunt Lydia was standing in front of him! Lawrence had been right. It was all a trap by the Eyes! As Aunt Lydia walked closer, Nick scrambled for the knife hidden in his belt buckle. If he was going down, he would go down fighting. Then he heard a wet crunch and the world went black.
The next thing knew, his head was throbbing. Someone pressed an ice pack to him. It toned down the pain a little.
Lawrence started speaking. "Careful, Haddaway's boys hit you harder than necessary."
Nick fought to stop shaking. "You were right! We're going to die!"
Lawrence looked amused. The man was really irritating when he smirked. "Relax, Haddaway thought it was pretty funny. Who would have thought Aunt Lydia's sister had a sense of humor."
Aunt Lydia's sister! "What?" Nick croaked.
Lawrence was still smirking. "Rachal Lenora Haddaway, a colonel in the Nuclear Contingency Group before Gilead, made a Brigadier General on the battlefield as the government retreated and now commander of the Army of the Rockies. She and Aunt Lydia are identical twins." Lawrence laughed. "God must have really been drunk the day that ovum split."
The curtain was pushed away. Nick nearly stopped breathing. There she was, General Rachal Haddaway, Aunt Lydia's face on a somewhat firmer, more muscular body with eyes that could cut steel. Nick feared his shaking was about to start again.
"Judging from that reaction, it appears my sister survived and has found a place in Gilead. I was hoping they would hang her," General Haddaway said.
"Get in line," Lawrence said.
General Haddaway's mouth became cruel line. "I'm first in that line, boys. The bitch killed my son."
Once they were back in General Haddaway's office, Lawrence took over the talking. "It's incredible what you've done here."
"It's what I was trained to do, but against the Russians or the Chinese, not our own people. But the oath did say all enemies foreign and domestic." General Haddaway said.
An enlisted soldier brought them sherry. Good stuff from before the war. It was obvious from the way the man filled the glasses that this was a gesture of respect from Haddaway. The moment was surreal to Nick. Aunt Lydia's face, but this time the witch of a thousand nightmares was on their side. Luckily, Lawrence opened the parlay. "What do you need?"
Haddaway's answer was surprisingly direct. Nick hadn't anticipated she would reveal a weakness so easily. "Trained people. I've got equipment, but it will take years to build an armed force capable of using it. I've got stealth fighters, but only a few dozen pilots. Unlike the movies, a crop-duster pilot can't actually fly a jet. There's over two thousand tanks hid in bunkers, but I don't have the resources to train more than a hundred crews a year."
Nick finally thought of something useful to say. "Mexico's tanks are compatible with ours."
General Haddaway gazed in his direction. "They have already offered. But I don't think we can trust them to give back any territory they wrest from Gilead."
An awkward silence followed. Nick had always had the dream that somehow the United States was coming back, same as it ever was, and Gilead would be a bad memory like the Southern Confederacy. If General Haddaway was right and she probably was, Nichole might never know an America like his childhood. Looking back, he knew it hadn't been a bad place, despite the rough times he had endured. It had certainly been a better place than what had come next.
"There is growing unrest among Gilead's armed forces that could be exploited," Lawrence offered.
Haddaway shrugged it off. "Too much trouble. Forget them. Do either of you realize how many military bases were in the south?"
Nick didn't know. He doubted Lawrence did.
Haddaway continued. "There are people in the southern rebel territories, in Texas, and in exile who would be more useful. They need to be recruited. If I have to build battle groups from scratch it will take years."
She would build them if she had to; however, Nick realized with a strange calm. This was a general of the United States Army. She would fight until hell froze over; then, fight on the ice.
"Most of the male American military personnel that wouldn't swear loyalty to Gilead were sent to agricultural colonies. Hard labor, but no radiation or toxins. Some would still be healthy." Lawrence said.
Haddaway nodded. "I've got air power. I've got Green Berets."
An amazingly sinister smile crept across Lawrence's face. The twinkle in his eyes made Nick think of an evil Santa Claus. "All right. Let's talk logistics," Lawrence said.
Before they left, the Army of the Rockies celebrated the restoration of communication and their potential new allies. It was venison and moonshine, but the best party Nick had been to since forever. Flags with fifty stars hung on the walls and for every Wolverine chant there were two more groups singing the American, the Beautiful or My Country Tis of Thee. Nick watched a pregnant helicopter pilot get a foot massage from her wife and tried to avoid depressing questions about how bad life was in Gilead. When Radio Free America played eighties rock-and-roll, Lawrence actually danced with Haddaway. Unfortunately, Nick overheard part of their conversation later.
Lawrence sounded a little drunk or strangely friendly. Of course, Nick didn't really know what Lawrence sounded under either condition. "You cannot tell me with that much toned young muscle out there that idolizes you like a god, that you have never been tempted to fish off the company pier," Lawrence said.
"No way. The boys can get away with it, but for women in the military the first rule is don't sleep with the staff," Haddaway said.
Lawrence continued talking in his almost human voice. "Now that's discipline. Did I mention I'm a widower?"
The next morning when it was time for them to leave, Lawrence was late. When he did arrive, there was jaunty skip in his steps inside of the usually shuffling. The guy was actually smiling.
"What happened to you?" Nick asked and regretted it a moment later. It was freaking obvious what had happened and those were images he did not want in this head.
"I spent some more time trading intel with General Haddaway.," Lawrence said. He started humming.
Nick stared at him for a moment. There was a patch of red skin just below Lawrence's beard. Involuntarily he shivered.
Lawrence rolled his eyes. "What? You think your elders don't have sex? Older women are great. Ask Ben Franklin." Then Lawrence meet his gaze. There was twinkle in the eyes of the evil Santa Claus. He patted Nick on the shoulder "Gilead is doomed!"
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