A Day of Reckoning Read online

  To do so would put him at risk, for if his target somehow turned the tables on him Ace could easily be killed.

  But Ace knew there were times in a man’s life when that life had to be placed at risk for the greater good.

  This was one of those times.

  He was willing to take that knife and to thrust it into the throat of one of Sennett’s men.

  Then, by Ace’s reasoning, God stepped in.

  By Ace’s reasoning God had Sennett order his men to conduct a weapons search.

  And to take Ace’s knife so he’d have to use a non-lethal weapon instead.

  By Ace’s reasoning God wanted him to remain pure.

  He didn’t want Ace to kill.

  He didn’t want Ace to perform the ultimate sin and to disqualify himself to carry His word to others.

  He, God Himself, gave Ace Ashton an out.

  For although a face full of wasp spray was instantly incapacitating and would subject his target to unimaginable agony and pain, it was not necessarily lethal.

  Ace could play his part in the assault on Sennett’s men without having to kill.

  He found a new resolve.

  He was no longer filled with self-doubt.

  He no longer wondered whether he could go through with it.

  Now he was anxious; he was chomping at the bits to go.

  He was excited. His adrenaline started pumping.

  He was ready, and for the first time, really willing.

  At that moment, in the shadows of the storage room, Marty could hear the faint rustling of men making their way through the duct work toward the open vent.

  They were coming.

  Richard Sears’ head appeared in the chasm.

  He poked his head into the storage room and looked around. He saw Marty off to one side.

  Marty said nothing, but nodded.

  It was a nonverbal message that told Richard it was all clear.

  Richard scrambled out of the hole and pressed his back against the heavily shadowed back wall.

  He was followed quickly by his men: Paul, Red and Tony.

  It took mere seconds for all of them to gather.

  And they, like Ace, were chomping at the bits to take back their shelter.

  -7-

  “Colonel Wilcox, you have a visitor.”

  Wilcox fairly leapt from his bunk. He was anxious to talk to somebody… anybody, after not hearing another human voice in four full days.

  Officers in grades O-5 and higher were confined in Administrative Segregation: a fancy term for solitary confinement.

  It wasn’t necessarily because they were considered a danger or a high-risk prisoner.

  Rather it was because many of the enlisted prisoners had a dislike for high-ranking officers.

  Some of their grievances were real. High ranking officers oversaw the courts-martial which landed them in the brig.

  Or they administered the “non-judicial punishment” which landed them there.

  Other grievances were pure fantasy or not rooted in fact. Some saw high ranking officers as “the man,” or representatives of the establishment they’d come to hate.

  In the same manner a judge or district attorney who went to prison would be housed away from the general population, the same was true of high ranking officers in a military prison or brig.

  It wouldn’t have been so bad if the guards who came by to bring Wilcox’s food would utter a word now and then. But they were under strict orders not to communicate with him.

  Three times a day the trap door on his cell door would drop open. Wilcox would place his empty food tray from the previous meal into the slot, and in turn would get another tray full of what the kitchen called “food.”

  Not a word, not a grunt, not a cough from the guard.

  The silence was maddening.

  A visitor… any visitor… was welcome.

  A man came down the corridor, escorted by one of the guards.

  Wilcox had never seen the man before. But based on his dress: service dress uniform decked out with all his ribbons and medals, he guessed him to be a lawyer.

  The briefcase in his hand confirmed his assessment.

  The guard opened the cell’s door and let the man in. Prohibited by law from listening in, he walked to the end of the corridor and awaited the pounding on the cell door that would indicate the visitor was ready to leave again.

  Salutes are not in order when indoors, except when officially reporting in.

  The visitor instead offered his hand to the colonel.

  “Good afternoon, sir. I’m Captain David Wright from the Area Defense Counsel.”

  “Thank you for coming, Captain. I assume you’re my counsel?”

  “That I am, sir. I’m sure you’ve got a thousand questions of me. Why don’t we start by getting them out of the way first, then I’ll let you know what we’re up against.”

  “What are they charging us with, Captain Wright?”

  “Treason against the United States of America under a national emergency.”

  Wilcox nodded. He’d expected as much.

  “What is the maximum penalty?”

  “Normally it’s life in prison. However, the Manual for Courts Martial provides for a death penalty under two circumstances.

  “One is during wartime.

  “The other, I’m sorry to say, is during a national emergency.”

  “Should I dare ask?”

  “Yes, sir. The Chief of Staff has already gone on record saying he wants to seek the death penalty. He says he wants to set an example to discourage others from assaulting his bunker again.”

  Again, he was not surprised. He’d never met General Mannix before their encounter outside the bunker. But the general struck him as a man who took no guff and offered no quarter.

  “And what is the process should we be found guilty? Are we transferred to Fort Leavenworth until the thaw? Do we get executed by lethal injection after all our appeals have been exhausted?”

  The captain chose his words carefully.

  “I’m afraid not, sir.

  “You see, the government declared martial law ten years ago when Saris 7 struck and has never rescinded it. That was likely because the former president and his entire staff, including the highest-ranking members of the Department of Defense, were all killed in the Washington bunker. Irate citizens who didn’t know they were the continuity team murdered them all.

  “If that hadn’t happened, in all likelihood martial law would have been rescinded when the thaw came. But that never happened.

  “Add to that the fact that we’re under a national emergency situation, and… well, those two things added together are a major game changer.

  “The Air Force Chief of Staff, under those conditions, has a right under the MCM to allow a death penalty case. And he has made it very clear that’s what he wants.

  “Not only that, but provisions allow for a speedy execution of sentence, without clear grounds for appeal. And since the United States Military Court of Appeals is inactive for the duration of the freeze, there’s no place to submit an appeal anyway.”

  “That being the case, shouldn’t the sentence be stayed until the Military Court of Appeals is reconstituted after the thaw?”

  “Normally that would be the case.

  “But not during a declared national emergency or war.”

  “Who is the panel president?”

  “Mannix has directed a two-star general to fly in from Hill Air Force Base in Utah. A Major General Stephens. Do you know him?”

  “Never heard of him. How is he able to fly in weather like this?”

  “The weather has cleared temporarily and the runways at Hill and here have been plowed. The general told him to get here quick, before it starts snowing again.”

  Wilcox sat on his bunk and placed his head in his hands.

  He was in a mild state of shock.

  How could his best intentions go so terribly wrong?

  -8-

/>   “Tell me sir, if you will, what your frame of mind was when you learned of the bunker.”

  “I was angry. I mean, it was presented to me by a former patient who was injured in a helicopter crash. A crash that killed an Army colonel named Travis Montgomery.

  “Apparently he was in charge of the growing and gathering operations that provided the bunker’s food stores.”

  “Growing and gathering operations?”

  “They were gathering meat by scouring this part of Texas to find any livestock which had survived the first freeze.

  “They had instructions to commandeer all livestock they came across. They were to say it was to feed the people of Bexar County and San Antonio. In reality it all went to a top-secret facility on the far reaches of the old Kelly Air Force Base.

  “There the animals were allowed to breed; the females were artificially inseminated to facilitate that. They were fed as much feed and hay as they’d eat to help fatten them up. They were given growth hormones to maximize their weight.

  “That was the gathering operation.

  “At the same time they built huge greenhouses. They also converted some of the old C-5 aircraft hangars into greenhouses by replacing the roof panels with Plexiglas and using huge heaters to blow in hot air twenty-four hours a day.

  “They grew fruits and vegetables at an amazing rate. Again, the people who donated their seeds or seedlings to the project were told it was to feed civilian survivors.

  “But it was all bullshit. Every crop was dried or canned and placed inside the bunker.”

  “Sir, you said you were told of the bunker by a former patient. What was his rank, and is he still alive?”

  “She, not he. And she wasn’t in the military. She was a civilian. And I don’t have a clue where she is. I believe she said she lives west and north of here. Maybe in the Kerrville area.

  I assume she’s still alive, but I don’t know her address or know how to contact her. And under the current weather conditions, even if I knew exactly where she lived it would be impossible to recall her.

  “Why?”

  “It goes to state of mind. If you were told, and believed, the people in the bunker had nefarious motives, and you didn’t know for sure who was in there, it could be used as a mitigating circumstance.

  “At any time did anyone suggest to you, or did it occur to you, that the people in the bunker might have a lawful reason for being there?”

  “No, to both. If I’d thought they were the team tasked to reconstitute and continue the government of the United States I’d have realized their importance. I’d have backed off.

  “I just never saw past my rage to consider that possibility, I guess.

  “What was the name of the civilian patient who told you about Colonel Montgomery and his operation?”

  “Her name is Hannah Snyder. It was once Jelinovic. She was the scientist who first raised the alarm about Saris 7. But what good is that? All she could possibly do is verify she told me. She didn’t know they weren’t using the bunker for nefarious means. She came to the same conclusion I did. And as a civilian, she probably wouldn’t have known the federal government has a duty to create and provide contingency plans for the continuity of the government.

  “Yes, sir. But you say you don’t have a clue where to find her. And that could work to our benefit.”

  “How so?”

  “We could petition the court for a delay. A very long delay, until the thaw.

  “We could say the testimony of Ms. Snyder is essential to back up your claim you were told the people in the bunker were bad people.”

  “But wouldn’t that leave her in legal jeopardy?”

  “No. She planted the thought in your mind but didn’t take action. She, as an American citizen, is entitled to her personal opinion based on the facts at hand, and to voice those opinions under the first amendment.

  “She never yelled ‘fire’ in a crowded theater and she never advocated or incited violence. Therefore she’s not subject to criminal action.

  “However, the mere fact she planted that seed in your head would go to state of mind. It would show you truly believed, absence other evidence, that the people in the bunker were hoarding food and supplies that could be better utilized if shared with the base populace.

  “And as the base commander, you had a duty to try to retrieve that food for the good of everyone assigned to the base.”

  “And that’s our defense?”

  “Yes, sir. That’s our defense.”

  “Will it work?”

  “I don’t know. I think there’s a good chance. But a lot of it will depend on whether they grant our delay.”

  “How so?”

  “We need time for everyone to cool off. Word is that General Mannix is chomping on nails and demanding heads roll for this. He’s angry because the cat’s out of the bag now and he’s afraid others will attempt to breach the bunker as people on the outside get more and more desperate.

  “He’s demanding somebody be punished, severely and quickly, to deter others from taking their own shot.

  “But if we can get a delay, saying we’re actively trying to find and subpoena our key witness, it should play to our advantage.

  “Especially if we can delay until the thaw.

  “The longer we wait until trial, the more time passes, the more it’ll be obvious to the panel that your breach of the bunker didn’t cause any real damage.

  “Nobody died. Nobody was forced out of the bunker permanently. The people inside were still able to carry on their mission.

  “And most importantly, General Mannix will have time to cool off. Maybe he’ll stop trying to exert undue pressure to convict and execute you and Colonel Medley.”

  “And you think all of this will work?”

  “I sure hope so, sir. Your life depends on it.”

  -9-

  Colonel Wilcox was tired and stressed.

  He was having a hard time understanding the captain’s words and was getting frustrated.

  “Just exactly what is your game plan, Captain Wright?

  “What magic do you have up your sleeve that’s going to fix the biggest mistake of my life?”

  “I’m going to try to contact an old friend and ask for his help.”

  Wilcox looked at him, dumbfounded.

  He’d expected his counsel to say he was going to have his client throw himself on the mercy of the court. To point out his career had been exemplary up until that point. He’d had some tough assignments and was a highly decorated colonel. He’d served his country well and had been an excellent surgeon; one of the best.

  In that capacity he’d saved many lives.

  Surely he was due one break. Surely they could overlook one stupid mistake which cost no one their life, and which was not intentionally done.

  Surely they’d grant him that.

  Or maybe a different strategy: maybe Captain Wright could find a way to delay the tribunal. To talk General Mannix into waiting until the thaw came. He could say that since Colonel Wilcox had a well-deserved reputation in the military community as a hard-ass and difficult to get along with, perhaps he couldn’t get a fair trial in the local area.

  All of the colonels who sat on the court martial panel would know him directly or know of him. And they’d likely have a tainted view which could cloud their judgment.

  If Wright could convince the general of that risk, perhaps the chief of staff would agree to wait.

  And surely after the thaw clearer heads would prevail.

  Perhaps after the thaw, after everyone in the bunker survived, General Mannix would be busy reconstituting the United States Air Force.

  Maybe he’d decide he no longer had the time or desire to convene a tribunal and to try two colonels who never intended to hurt anyone but had made an error in judgment.

  Perhaps he’d just let them off the hook.

  Wilcox had had a lot of time to think as he sat in his cell.

  He’d expected his cou
nsel to try one of those two tactics.

  Maybe even both.

  Given ten guesses at what his Area Defense Counsel attorney’s course of action might be, “call a friend” wouldn’t be one of them.

  Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded his head in agreement.

  At the same time his head was spinning.

  He’d only met this man half an hour before.

  Didn’t know anything about him, really.

  But his very life was in the captain’s hands.

  Like it or not, he had no choice but to trust him.

  In a weak voice he pleaded, “Tell me more about your friend.”

  “His name is Jason Tomlin. We went to school together at the University of Texas. We didn’t have any classes together, since I was doing pre-law and he was heavily into science. But we shared a dormitory. His room was two doors down from mine. We spent a lot of time together.”

  Colonel Wilcox wasn’t exactly known for his patience. Especially when he was speaking to someone who droned on and on without getting to the point.

  “Pardon me for saying so, Captain. But you’re rambling. Exactly what does your old college friend have to do with my case?”

  “Two things, actually.”

  “After he got his degree he took a job at an observatory in west Texas. The University of Texas McDonald Observatory.

  “We stayed in touch for awhile. I visited him up there. He knew more than anyone I ever met about the stars and planets and such. When this whole Saris 7 stuff hit the fan I called him to see if it was real.

  “He said he knew Hannah Jelinovic. Not well, but in passing. She went to Baylor at the same time we were at UT, but he attended a couple of conferences with her. He said she knew her stuff.”

  Colonel Wilcox had a blank look on his face. Captain Wright knew he was losing him.

  “There’s something else too. My friend Jason is a prepper. He’s got a ham radio. That’s how preppers communicate. If I can get ahold of him, he may be able to contact Hannah.

  “She might be willing to testify on your behalf.”

  Wilcox flew into something just short of a rage.

  “She’s a civilian, Captain. She can’t be compelled to testify. And even if she could, why would she? Why would she jeopardize her own freedom on my behalf? I sure wouldn’t if the roles were reversed.”