The Final Day (After, #3)(85)

“I prefer to keep my head on straight. Here and then wherever it is you are eventually taking me.”

“If there’s nothing else, sir, I’ll be next door down.” The sergeant turned to leave.

“Charlie?”

The sergeant looked back.

“At least tell me about yourself. Were you in the Pentagon on the day the shit hit the fan?”

“No, sir. I was actually part of the ceremonial team at Fort Meade for duty at Arlington. Final assignment before mustering out after twenty-five years.”

The sergeant’s trim but muscular build, ramrod-straight posture, and demeanor was a giveaway to John. The ceremonial guard was one of the most exacting assignments in the military. It was not just the very public task of standing guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier but also for all military funerals and beyond that any ceremonial event requiring military presence in D.C. itself. Behind the scenes, it was also a highly efficient combat force, one of the top ready reaction forces inside the beltway.

“How did you meet General Scales?”

“He and some others from the Pentagon came in the evening of the first day.” He seemed reticent to continue.

“And then?”

“Well, the general and I sort of fell in together, and he asked me to stick with him.”

“Mind if you tell me more about what happened in D.C. that first day, Sergeant?”

“No, sir. There was a lot of confusion. The whole city was down, communications down. By the middle of the first night, the city was burning.” Again there was a drawn-out silence; he was obviously reluctant to say more.

“Nothing classified—just curious,” John prompted him.

“After a couple of days, it was obvious to some we were doing nothing effective where we were. Some said we should try to link up with Andrews Air Force Base, but that was on the other side of the city, and we hadn’t seen any air traffic, at least not going out from there.”

That struck John as curious. “Did you see air traffic?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. A number of choppers, looked like special-ops-type equipment, most likely proofed against EMPs. They were moving about.”

“So something was at least flying?”

“Yes, sir. But nothing toward us. All our comm gear was down, and we were obviously written off.”

“What were these choppers doing? Where were they going?”

“Don’t know, sir,” he replied a bit too hastily.

John knew the sergeant would not speculate anything with him and dropped that line of questioning. “So you then went to Andrews?”

“No, sir. A group did set out that way.” The sergeant smiled. “A lot of those wandering in from the Pentagon were men like General Scales. Well, I should say around the same rank. There was a lot of arguing back and forth, which I stayed clear of.”

“Smart move, Sergeant. If two generals got into a row, I always made myself scarce.”

“The general said we should strike out for Fort Belvoir and link up with whatever was there. Most of us went along with him.”

“Most?”

“Well, sir, it did get a bit ugly. Not often you see a two star telling a couple of three stars to go to hell. The general, he had a hell of a lot more ground experience, not a paper pusher—we could see that and went with him.”

“Good analysis and smart move.”

“I understand you served under him, sir?”

At last, a question back, and John openly went over the times they served together, even how when he had decided to retire because of Mary’s cancer, it was Bob who had helped him find a position at Montreat College, which was Mary’s hometown.

The sergeant took it in, most likely not much that was new there if his job was to pump John as a “good cop” interrogator.

“Sergeant, you have family?”

And now the man did stiffen up. “Yes, sir.”

“And?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I understand. The general told me about what most likely happened to his wife.”

There was a momentary pause again.

“They lived on the other side of the Potomac. My wife, two daughters, a son. My boy was a plebe up at West Point. My daughters still in high school. I didn’t want them in some crap hole of a school in Washington. Unless you were able to pay forty grand apiece to send your kids to one of the schools where all the elites were sending theirs, you were stuck. I had in-laws up near College Park, good schools at least up there, so that’s where we bought a small, very overpriced house to ensure the kids were safe and at a good school.”

Again a moment of silence.

“I wanted to try to get to them; the general talked me out of it. I guess he was right. One man alone, trying to get through all that chaos. It was something I would think about at times before the Day. You know, trying to plan what to do if everything ever hit the fan. But you know how it was, sir. It was always figuring ten, maybe twenty megatons on Washington, an equal dose on Baltimore—one minute we’re here, the next we’re together with a lot of other poor souls waiting to talk to God. You know what I mean.”

John could see that the mere recollection was painful. All the worst nightmares possible most likely kept him up night after night. No quick, near-instant deaths. A woman with two teenage daughters. What chance did they have? And the sergeant knew it.