A/N: Just noticed I'd been gone a whole year. Seems longer.

Not This August

Chapter 2

The Mackinac Straits are neither wide nor deep by most people's conceptions. The five miles was spanned by a majestic suspension bridge with tall towers, one of which sported a weird array of festive balloons – the antenna for the repeater units. This enabled the Colonists to maintain contact with 'recovery teams' as far as the eastern shore of Lake Michigan.

The 'commo shack' was continuously manned whenever teams were out on a mission. Every team reported in every two hours regardless of finding anything or not. It was a Rule and no one broke any of the Rules. If a team spent the night off-island, the Rule was strictly maintained.

Team Lennox had missed two consecutive check-ins and a response team was hastily thrown together and ferried over to Mackinaw City on one of the recovered car ferries they 'found' in St. Ignace. Most of the men were experienced combat veterans from Iraq and Afghanistan and so they were on high alert as they drove south to the area Team Lennox was surveying.

I-75 35 miles south of Grayling, MI

It was still daylight by the time they reached the convoy but it was too late to do anything except recover the bodies of the 18 men and women who'd made up the team. There were no survivors and no one was missing. They were all dead and their vehicles burned. If anything had been recovered, it was gone or burned up.

The Island was notified of the discovery and orders were given to return immediately but deferred to the team leader who said driving at night through enemy territory was begging to be ambushe. The Executive Council, less Howard Wolowitz who was on the Badger, met hastily and discussed the ambush and the loss of 18 of their friends and neighbors.

David Hampton had been a Marine captain and had seen service in Iraq, Somalia and Afghanistan. He was the nominal 'commander' of any military operation but deferred often to Wyatt Ford for no other reason than the man's experiences on the Upper Door Peninsula and his common sense approach to using force of arms. With his declining health, Hampton sought him out at his home and discussed various options and scenarios.

"It looks to me like they were caught napping and got lit up pretty good. Either the attackers didn't want prisoners or they got carried away and there were no survivors. They didn't take the vehicles but that could be for any number of reasons."

"Yeah, but there's still the question of how they could have been overrun so quickly given their position and the time of day." It had been just after lunch when the first check-in had been missed.

Dave Hampton rubbed his very short hair and then asked Wyatt the usual question. "So when are you going to quit skating and get back to work? All this headquarters stuff is driving me nuts, Wyatt." It was a joking courtesy since both men knew Wyatt was dying and losing ground fast. He tired easily and his wife stood at the door and pointed to an imaginary wrist watch and shot him the evil eye.

"Soon, Hamp, soon. Can't have you young guys having all the fun. Any day now."

When the response team returned, their commander met with Hampton and the Executive Council on the docks. While his team transferred the bodies of their friends to trucks, the response team leader briefed them on what he'd seen.

"Whatever happened, happened fast. It looked like they were all just standing around with their thumbs up their asses when they were killed. Not one of them had a weapon in their hands or near their bodies. Sidearms were still in holsters. They were torn up by large caliber weapons, probably .50 caliber from the size of the holes in the vehicles. You know how it tears a person apart. It just doesn't make any damned sense!"

"Could it have been an aircraft on a strafing run?" asked Bomber. He was thinking about his armed Provider and the damage a Ma Deuce could do.

"Not unless it was stationary and 20 feet away. We found shell casings in clumps in a semi-circle around where the vehicles had stopped."

Sheldon cleared his throat as much to get everyone's attention as to calm his nerves. "So what we have is experienced scavengers, armed to the teeth, taken unawares at close range by military grade weapons and their bodies left where they fell and the vehicles destroyed. Either the attackers were invisible or they'd gained the trust of our team. Either way, we don't know what we're up against so I recommend suspending any operations in that area until we know more."

"Do you think we should recall the Badger and the other teams?" asked Leslie.

"To what end? We know the threat lies to the south. Howard and his teams have the Lake between them and the mainland. I suggest an armed reconnaisance, heavily armed, augmented by air power. If nothing else is accomplished, perhaps a 'show of force' might deter further aggressive acts."

There was a lot of discussion about what constituted 'heavily armed' and finally Sheldon just got up and walked away from the loudly debating group. Put any three of them in a room and they'll soon be loudly debating some arcane point of order.

Hampton watched the group prattle on and then grabbed Bomber by the elbow and followed the odd duck who was their 'nominal leader' up the quay to the town.

"Why can't the Doc just say 'do it my way'. Hell, we'll end up doing it his way anyhow. All this gab fest will accomplish is – "

"Hamp, it's his way. He tells us what to do by 'suggesting' things. He really doesn't want to tell anyone anything. He's really big on making people think it's their idea in the first place. There were some hairy situations before you joined up that really affected him. He hates being 'in charge' of anything."

"Waste of time, ya want my opinion. He's the brains behind all this. He needs to 'take charge' and get 'er done. Those idiots will debate and confer and discuss until supper but finally come to the same decision…waste of everyone's time."

"I think we need to hit that Guard unit over in Cheboygan and fire up a few more of those Abrams and maybe some Strykers for road patrolling. Too bad the only qualified chopper pilot we got is the Doc. Penny'll never allow him behind a stick again after hearing Melissa go on and on about his crash."

Hampton stopped in his tracks and pointed to a quickly disappearing Sheldon. "He can fly a helicopter?" The disbelieving tone of voice rankled Bomber.

"As long as it was on Flight Simulator he can. Don't know if it was but I figure he somehow mastered that in his living room back in Pasadena. He can't drive worth a shit though."

They caught up to Sheldon and explained what they felt should be done and he just smiled and nodded and then asked about a memorial service for those they'd lost.

"Captain Hampton, since they were yours, I'll leave that in your capable hands. Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to avoid overcooked food at the canteen. You know how it dries out when left in the warming pans too long."

In order to simplify distribution of food and to ensure everyone got something hot to eat, the Colonists had converted a Ryan's Restaurant into a cafeteria. Lunch and supper were served on a first come, first served, basis. Everyone took their turn at serving and today he was on the schedule.

In Sheldon's view, the canteen was the answer to the nagging question of 'who gets what when'. He remembered the fight between two women over a canned ham and the Council decided on centralizing storage and distribution and that went over like a lead balloon. After many loud and lengthy debates, someone mentioned the Ryan's Restaurant and the rest was, thankfully, history.

If you missed a meal, you could always take an MRE from the stores. For some reason Sheldon couldn't figure out, that option was rarely used.

Penny was waiting for him as usual. They tried to take their meals together, schedules permitting. They even volunteered for the same shifts. She liked keeping an eye on her husband but mostly she just liked him – a lot.

"Why the long face, Ace?" she asked him, putting some joy she didn't feel into her voice. Word had spread quickly about the massacre.

"You have no doubt heard by now the fate of Team Lennox, I posit that is sufficient reason for a 'long face' although in actuality – "

"What's being done about it? What have you decided to do?" She knew it would a 'consensus' of the Council but in reality, ever since putting a 9mm through the forehead of the rapist, Dixon, his word was pretty much law. Him and his 'Rule of 3 Fingers' was a heavy burden she tried to lighten at every opportunity.

"I've suggested curtailing recovery efforts in the area assigned to Team Lennox. I might have suggested an armed force make a reconaissance with possibly some air support but it's up to the Council to make that decision. I'm sure Captain Hampton will handle the expedition with his usual professionalism."

She sighed. Ever since Sheldon had painfully explained his Rule of the Three Fingers, she'd gone to great lengths to explain to the others that while he might be viewed as the Colony's 'Executive', he wanted no part of making decisions.

Well, he'd read the Concil's verdict to Dixon – Banishment – and then said "I don't agree" and shot him dead on the spot. She saw those fingers twitch through his Rules but was powerless to stop him.

Ever since, the Council went through the motions of rubberstamping his 'suggestions', something he either chose to overlook or was simply unaware.

He'd become more 'Pasadena Sheldon' over the months since that day. Penny suspected he was trying to reconcile his need for 'personal order' with this new orderless world they found themselves in.

Her father had commented to her later after the Dixon affair that she'd always had a thing for 'bad boys' and now she had the 'baddest boy of them all'. She'd blushed furiously, smacked her Dad lightly on the arm and stormed off in mock anger to go find her Bad Boy.

Ferry Landing
Manitowoc, WI

They were ahead of schedule and Howard was just preparing to call in the sentry pickets when one radioed in that there was a large contingent of refugees making their way on foot towards the ferry dock. He said they looked worse for the wear and wanted instructions.

"How many are in a 'large contingent'?" he asked impatiently.

"Oh, maybe…200 hundred or so. Maybe a few more or less but around 200."

Howard looked at the deck, only half full with scavenged goods, solar panels and collectors and the valuable equipment and other items they'd removed from the hospital. They even brought back 20 hospital beds they found packed in wooden crates.

"Bring them in. We have room for them. I'll radio the Island and let them know we're coming back and to have medical and food ready for them."

The refugee column looked like every other ragtag band of survivors except for one thing: there was not a single white face among them.