The End of the Beginning

“What time is it Colonel Morrison?” asked one of the subgroup generals as they stood at the top their planes boarding stairs in Anchorage.

John looked at his glass tablet. “Its o-three thirteen hours, sir.”

“Did she not order you to leave if she wasn’t here by o-three fifteen hours?”

“She did, sir,” John sighed.

“Then we will respect that order. The world is a shit show right now and we need to get back to it. Global stock markets are already falling in response to this threat. The US has dispatched its Third Fleet to St. Lawrence. This is causing friction with the Russians who have already nearly had a midair collision between one of its recon flights and the US’s. The UN Security Council is going to hold an emergency meeting but we both know UNIRO isn’t ready to respond to anything Terra Nova may yet do. We’re powerless.” John looked at the subgroup general and shook his head. “I’m sure someone will respectively disagree with you, sir.” The subgroup general grinned. “I hope so, Colonel.”

“Excuse me, sir,” called the planes copilot. “Tower says Base Commander Hammond’s plane is on final approach. She’s landing in less than two minutes.” “Thank God,” John whispered.

Her plane landed and then taxied right up to the waiting staff plane, which had fondly come to be known as the Bus by its passengers over the last few months of its use. Hammond rushed down the boarding steps of her plane only to quickly run up the Buses. The subgroup general tried to say hello but Hammond ignored him. She only acknowledged John.

“Colonel, I told you to leave. It’s past o-three fifteen.”

“Engine trouble, ma’am.”

“That’s bloody horseshit and you know. Let’s get this bird in the air and back to base, shall we?”

John noticed a reddened bandage over Hammond’s left eye almost concealed by her hair. “Are you alright ma’am? What happened?” he asked, trying to get a better look at it.

“Fine,” snapped Hammond. “Give me a sit-rep, please.”

“Well, Commander - ”

“Not from you Subgroup General, from Colonel Morrison.”

Everyone began taking their seats. The planes cabin door was shut and locked. The hydrogen engines began to smoothly rev up.

“Oh, well,” started John, sitting next to Hammond, “St. Lawrence is still under threat from Terra Nova. All bases have gone into Sequence Red and have been so for some time now. But, we haven’t been able to contact Base Tranquility. All communications are down. We’ve had no contact now for about three hours. We have no idea why.” “Hernandez hasn’t said anything?”

“No, ma’am. We’re in the dark. No base procedure involves a complete communications blackout so we’re a little baffled… and concerned.” “With all due respect, ma’am, we’re also concerned over where you just flew off to and why you haven’t told any of us about it,” said an annoyed colonel two rows up.

Hammond glared at him with irritated frustration and impatience.

“Compared to current circumstances, Colonel, I wasn’t aware my travel plans had become the biggest issue of concern! Pilot!” yelled Hammond. “Get us in the air, now! Move it!” She looked back at the questioning colonel. “Do I need to order you to shut up if you are going to speak with such bloody stupidity?” “Ma’am,” said John, leaning in close to here ear, “I was able to get a hold of Captain Emerson before the blackout…” “And?”

“Reception was horrible and the call dropped pretty quickly but it sounded like he said we’d be coming home to a trap of some kind.” Hammond leaned back heavily into here seat and turned, looking out the window. She put her thumb in her lips and chuckled. “Well, you of all people John should know Captain Emerson. He does like to exaggerate sometimes.”