Project - 16 by Martyn J. Pass Read Free Book Online Page A

coming NSU storm.”
    “ You think they have any control in the US?”
    “ Oh yeah, plenty!” cried the Colonel. “They've been
engineering this recent trouble for decades.”
    “ Trouble?” I asked.
    “ Riots, burnings, all part of the uneasiness of the masses.
They see the big bad NSU wolf huffing and puffing and they're
afraid their house of red, white and blue bricks is about to fall
down. They see England and fear what New York would look like with
most people dead and gone. L.A. San Francisco. Even
Vegas.”
    “ So they're calling back their troops,” I said.
    “ Yeah, they are. Home land defence they're calling it. I'd
call it drastic measures.”
    “ When do you ship out?” I asked.
    “ The end of the week. I'm overseeing the last of the equipment
lifts, then the personnel. It'll mean you'll be on your own for a
while and there won't be any supplies coming any time soon. We'll
leave you what we can including the items you asked for last
time.”
    “ Thanks,” I said with little enthusiasm. I was used to being
alone but somehow this was different in a bad way. It meant the
loss of my only support, my only contact with other humans. Was I
bothered? I hadn't thought I would be until now. Maybe I'd been
wrong.
    “ It's a shit-sandwich,” said the Colonel, returning to the
window and lifting a slat with his finger. “And even you have to
take a bite. Unless of course you'd prefer to fly out of here with
us.”
    “ I'd considered it,” I said. “But I'm not sure I could. What
would there be for me in the States?”
    “ Your knowledge, your skill, it's teachable and maybe in the
coming months it might make the difference to a lot of people
who'll need to wise up and survive if things get really ugly.” From
the way he said it I could see his expression despite the fact that
I couldn't see his face. It was the beginning of the end for his
own people and he knew it. He was looking out of the window at
desolate England, the old 'Great Britain' and he was seeing New
York.
    “ I'll give it some thought,” I said, finishing my coffee and
pouring another.
    “ You can think about it while you help Riley here,” he said
and spun in his seat to gesture to the soldier who nodded and
turned to face me, those eyes tearing through me like sunbeams in
the dark. She reached into a canvass bag at her feet and withdrew a
manilla folder and passed it to me. Out fingers touched as the file
was exchanged.
    “ If you're willing, I could do with your help, Miller. The
folder you have there is of my nephew, Alex DuPont, a Marine of
some 6 years serving aboard the aircraft carrier, the USS Dauntless, in the Gulf. The story goes that Alex was a model
Marine who was average in the class room but phenomenal on the
training circuit. His marksmanship, his drills, the whole package
was near perfect and if it hadn't been for the poor grades he'd
have easily been promoted.”
    I was skim-reading the file as she spoke. “It says here he
was given a medical discharge? Cause isn't listed.”
    “ Training exercise,” muttered the Colonel. The soldier
laughed.
    “ Okay, what was it? I asked.
    “ Severe depression. It's not listed because it wasn't properly
identified until he went AWOL. Then the pieces of the puzzle about
his odd behaviour fitted into place,” said Riley in her lilting
accent.
    “ How did he manage to go AWOL on an aircraft
carrier?”
    “ He was on shore leave when he stole a taxi and fled north. He
wasn't noticed missing until that evening but by then he'd melted
into the sand. It was the kind of thing he was trained to do, to
disappear if he needed to, escape and evade, that sort of
thing.”
    “ You think he's here?” I said and the Colonel slow-clapped
me.
    “ I told you he was quick,” he said to Riley.
    “ I have a pretty good idea he is,” she replied, doing her best
to ignore the Colonel's chuckling. “I picked up a signal on the way
over here, not much of one but a fragment of coded signal