Nuclear Spring Page 4

  Still not saying anything, Bradley paced to the radio room and looked up and down at the vast amount of electronics. Turning back from viewing the radio room, Bradley looked first at his XO, Lt. Col. Jane Barlow, and then Callahan.

  Bradley spoke his voice more than a harsh whisper that he directed to his poodle. “Well, Sarge, your leader has his head up his ass for the past four years. We’ve got some catching up to do.”

  He turned to Barlow and Callahan. “We have some serious work to be done. Set up a meeting with our cyber experts. Captain, include your electronic guru, Dr. Hains, and his computer whizzes. Add all our geeks, no matter their age. This will be a long work session, so arrange for snacks and beverages.”

  Bradley left the Command Center and walked the short distance to the duty officer station with Sarge at is heels as always. “At ease,” he said when the duty officer jumped up to stand at attention. “Lieutenant, assemble my staff for a meeting in one hour. Have Mr. Bronson standby. I want to see him after I’m through with my team.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Barlow and Callahan glanced at each other wondering what bothered their leader. “When the Colonel has a premonition, you can lay odds that something major is about to happen,” Barlow said to Callahan. “He has sensed beforehand every attack on the mountain. Whatever it is, Captain, I recommend that we take it very.”

  Callahan stared at the alcove entrance where Bradley departed. Nodding his head in agreement, he replied with a note of admiration. “I agree. I have never known anyone with his level of perception. I imagine he made one hell of a soldier in combat. That accounts for his making 06 at such an early age and his selection by DIA. Thank God, he was here to take command when the Chinese fried the world. The colonel sets the impetus for our survival.”

  Bradley followed Sarge into the mess hall with a stern look as he searched for two individuals with whom he needed to consult. One was Don Pierce, a 53-year-old rancher with a serious, weather-beaten face who often wore a beat up western hat from when he entered the mountain rather than his Kevlar helmet. The other was Doctor Ivan Jensen, the nuclear scientist. Locating Pierce, he marched over to his table, noticing that all conversation stopped so they might hear his whispery voice.

  Don, I hoped you would be here and save me a trip to the southern portal. Will you please join me at my table for a moment? Bring your food tray with you. I also need to talk to Dr. Jensen.” Seeing Jensen looking his way, he signaled him to join them at the commander’s table.

  Knowing Colonel Bradley’s psychological craving for coffee, the mess hall officer recognizing the leader being here on business, filled a coffee mug and sat it on the table in front of him. Bradley looked up at him and nodded his thanks.

  “What’s up, boss,” Jensen asked after they took their seats.

  “Gentlemen, as you can imagine, I always have a plan B. My concern is that the winter may return before we have time to grow feedstock for our livestock. We need to step up the breeding project; however, I am concerned about our food inventory getting low here inside the mountain for both humans and our livestock alike. My pitch to you, Don is the question, “Is there haystacks and grains stored at the ranches around here, Amargosa Valley, and Beatty that we can haul to the mountain. My question to you, Doc is, “Has the four years of radiation fallout damaged any such inventories that prohibits consumption by our animals?”

  “I’m sure we can find stored hay and feed,” Pierce said. I left both haystacks and silos of grain at my ranch when we evacuated. I don’t have a clue as to radiation or radioactivity.”

  Both looked at Jensen for his input.

  Jensen was a brilliant man with enormous pride in his knowledge and accomplishments in the nuclear fission field. He was also the type who remained silent about his life until asked something technical. Instead of a simple answer, such a question opened a floodgate of knowledge, whether you wanted it or not.

  “Well, first, I need to explain the difference between radiation and radioactivity. Radioactive atoms emit radiation, which makes radioactive fallout dust dangerous because it is emitting alpha, beta and, most, penetrating gamma radiation that is like X-rays. This gamma radiation travels through walls, roofs, and protective clothing. The radioactive fallout dust collects on everything but does not penetrate it. The dust can be washed off with water.”

  “Bradley grinned at Pierce. “Don, I don’t expect our getting a yes or no answer.”

  “I’m trying. The Earth’s atmosphere consists, from the ground up, of the troposphere, the stratosphere, which includes the ozone layer, mesosphere, thermosphere, which contains the ionosphere, exosphere, and the magnetosphere, also. The firestorms and the mushroom clouds from the nuclear bombs projected smoke and debris into several of these levels. The lower levels dumped much of their bad stuff after the events. We saw this with the black snow and ice. From here out, we can expect grit and dust to contend with once the fallout cloud passes. Exposure to the fallout causes skin burns that can produce considerable discomfort, but not endanger our lives or that of our animals. Radioactive materials in recent fallout give off rays that penetrate deep into the body. The permanent damage comes from this and inhaling the dust. However, and I emphasize that rain can concentrate the fallout into localized hot spots of much more intense radiation with no visible indication. The concentration raises our standard background radiation level by a thousand times. You don’t want your livestock drinking any pond water for a few days. Fallout particles settle promptly, and soluble radioactive materials diffuse into the water, reducing the contamination at the surface. Replenishing the water from an uncontaminated source dilutes the radiation.”

  Pierce continued eating while Jensen spoke. With his fork loaded with a bite of food, he paused long enough to ask, “Will my stored grains and stacked hay be safe for our livestock?” He loaded the food into his mouth and resumed chewing while looking at Jensen for his answer. Bradley grinned at Pierce’s effort to get Don on the subject but said nothing while he waited for a reply to his question.

  Both saw Jensen loading up for another long deluge of technical data. “My haystacks,” Pierce said to get Jensen back on subject.

  “You can cover a pile with a tarp, and it will be okay. Fallout particles settling on hay, silage, or a stack of feed bags contaminates only the outer parts. You can remove the outer layers and use the feed inside.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. That tells me what I need to know.” He turned to face the rancher in a manner to dismiss Jensen.

  “Sir. One other thing. Poultry is somewhat more resistant to radiation than other farm animals. Most birds live under shelter and eat only stored feed never exposed to radiation. Chickens and turkeys grow fast, so these factors combined make them reliable sources of fresh food. If our hens eat any contaminated feed, it will produce eggs that contain some radioactive elements. However, radioactivity in eggs decreases after the chickens are removed from the contaminated environment and given uncontaminated feed and water.”

  “That helps, Doctor. You may go back to your dinner. Don, stay. We need to talk further about this.”

  Addressing only Pierce, he said, “Don, we’ll organize a hauling crew to gather up all the hay and feed that we can. You can educate them on what is acceptable. We will trust you to keep an eye on their radiation dosage. If the feed is too hot, leave it be.”

  “My, my. My two favorite cowboys,” Stacey cheer said as she surprised them with her appearance at the table. Sammie and Ray stood grinning at her side.

  Pierce jumped up like a shot and chivalrously removed his hat all in one motion. “Evening, ma’am,” he said bash.

  Stacey held her face towards him for a kiss.

  “Give her a smooch, Don,” Bradley said with a laugh.

  Don obliged her and then Sammie who did not settle just for a peck on the cheek but gave him a big hug as well.

  ####

  Bradley smiled at the members of his staff all arriving with a mug of coffee in
hand. After four years, Bradley’s addiction for coffee rubbed off on most spending any time with him. His S-1, S-2, S-3, S-4, and adjutant served no real purpose, so he treated them like advisors to the mountain operations and kept them out of the chain of command of day-to-day military activities. He reasoned that a battalion size staff for a less than company size contingent made it a unit of all chiefs and no Indians.

  The first one to arrive went through the military ritual of saluting and reporting his presence to Bradley. Bradley returned the salute and informed the officer to stand by for the arrival of the others.

  The others arrived one by one and recognized that they were to assemble rather than perform the protocol of reporting in. Lacking a place for all of them to sit, they clustered in the only cleared out area of the alcove where they nervously looked around and at one another while wondering what was going on to warrant a meeting with them all as a group.

  “I suppose you all heard about the overflight this morning, Bradley said to his staff in general. Each of them indicated that they.

  He continued, “This and our picking up that previous transmission in Tucson confirm our observations that the wind currents have moved the fallout to the north of us. Comm reports considerably less magnetic disturbances on the radio bands. You’ll recall the traffic on our military tactical group spoke Arabic, and we suspect it's coming from Davis-Monthan.”

  He looked towards his S-2 intelligence officer, Lt. Col. Raymond Schwartz. “Any thoughts on this, Colonel?”

  “Sir, I suspect our old enemy, al-Qaeda is taking an interest in this region of the United States. I am compiling a list of any Islam nations who may have escaped the EMP and the nuclear winter effects enough to be flying over the USA. I think we can guess that they have us on their minds.”

  “Al-Qaeda?” An officer towards the back stated questioningly.

  “They are the most logical suspect. When the EMP hit, we 2000 mosques, Islamic societies, and such in the US that were an increase from 1200 that existed ten years before that. We knew before the EMP that a tyrannical, despotic, evil regime of Islamic and Marxist operatives established the Muslim Brotherhood in the United States, an army made up of the disillusioned and illiterate in the cities and religious converts incarcerated in prisons. Even worse, the Brotherhood set up all through Central America all the way to Mexico. Many of these locations never experienced the EMP and even the nuclear winter.”

  Bradley noted to himself that Schwartz, in keeping with military policy concerning partisan political activity, did not mention how political correctness by the politicians and administration made this possible and encouraged their presence with the belief that they could Americanize them. Military regulations allowed him to express an opinion on political candidates and issues, but not as a representative of the Armed Forces. He nodded in acceptance of what his S-2 said.

  At DIA, Bradley known about the Islamic jihad terrorist fundraising sites and terrorist training sites in the US. The mosques, etc. and fundraising sitemaps were near mirror images of the training sites for recruiting and training domestic terrorists in the US to scream “Allahu Akbar!” while claiming to be sharing the perfection of the Quran and the beauty of their beloved Prophet Muhammad.

  “I agree with your assessment, Colonel. After all, we are talking religious activists who have spent a lot of their lives hiding in caves and living off the land. The EMP eliminated their predators, which allows them to spread into the open. Our war with the jihadists did not end with the EMP and the bombs. In a sense, they have won because now they can walk in and take over wherever they choose.”

  “My, God,” someone muttered in shock or disgust.

  “Major Pruitt,” Bradley addressed his S-6, communications officer. “As you all know, when we heard the transmission coming out of Tucson, we went passive with our radios. We listened but did not transmit. At the time, we did this as a precaution, but now we will make it policy. Lock the mountain down on all signal transmissions or emissions. Total EMCOM, electronic emissions control. I want full COMSEC, communications security to prevent giving away our location and existence until we know what we are dealing with.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Expressions and movements of those in the room visually changed as they processed in their mind the implications of all that they just heard. Reactions starting with surprise advanced through the stages of shock and disgust before erupting into a rage.

  “Damn it, everyone, why did this surveillance concern crop up just now when it is safe for us to come out of the mountain? We have no choice but make a break for it before the fallout returns. We must create an external source of food for our livestock and before long, the colony. This is daunting enough without our having to defend our existence against yet another enemy besides Mother Nature.”

  What Bradley said did not invite comment, so he continued, putting aside his rage and frustration to proceed with the confidence and purpose expected of a strong leader.

  “Gentlemen, I’ll get right to the point. I am afraid that I am guilty of doing the same damn thing that our Air Force and Navy leaders did in the Vietnam War. They came out of the Korean War shooting guns and went into the Vietnam War doing the same, shooting guns at an enemy using missiles. The MiG program at Area 51 eliminated the enemy planes being what was killing our aviators; instead, we learned that our people did not know how to fight an enemy with missiles. The Air Force and Navy realized that it took ten sorties for our pilots to be proficient enough to defeat the enemy. This provided the genesis of the Navy’s Top Gun and Air Force’s Red Flag training exercises here in Nevada.”

  No one spoke, recognizing Bradley making a point and not seeking comment.

  He spread his feet, squared his shoulders, and placed his hands on his hips to emphasize his stating fact and not seeking comment. “Well, we have trained and planned for defense against future attacks on our refuge and on our supplies. Our training has ranged from our conducting frontier warfare like the Indian wars to fighting against modern-day military equipment. We know someone is conducting recon flights. This tells us that modern technology still exists in parts of the world. While the EMP reduced most of the world back to the Stone Age, those spared the EMP have continued to advance. The only things that I can think of that could have survived to threaten us are cockroaches and al-Qaeda. We need to know who they are, their intentions, and their capability.”

  Some of the staff nervously shifted while nodding their heads in agreement.

  Bradley’s thoughts returned to his previous successes using cyber technology to deter the Iranians developing nuclear weapons, and how to prepare the US missile defense system better.

  “Our present military defense measures remain the same, but we must keep pace with any enemies if we want to survive with our independence. We must know who they are and what their plans are. In the past, we used our having a nuclear bomb as a deterrent, but the past no longer applies. We must develop a substitute deterrent.; we have the knowledge and equipment here inside the mountain to do that.”

  “I presume that you are thinking cyber exploitation,” said one of the staff officers. This comment caused the others to look at the officer in disbelief at the suggestion of using cyber-warfare tactics in a world now struggling to survive even the requirements for continued life.

  Bradley turned to the big screen and knocked on its frame, using the knuckles of his fist to emphasize his point before looking the speaker in the eye. “That’s it. Let’s face it. We do not have the individual numbers to defend ourselves using traditional warfare so we will prepare for offensive cyber-warfare as a defense and deterrent. By that, I mean that any future aggressors against us must realize that we know their intent. More, they should be aware that we have the means of smashing their balls if they even look at us.”

  An old sniper bullet wound to his throat caused the tone of Bradley’s voice to remain constant regardless the pugnaciousness of his mood or intensity of his emotions. Now,
his stubborn facial expression and the strain of his hoarse sounding whisper emphasized his mental strength and conviction.

  “At DIA, I engaged in cyber-warfare in conjunction with the world’s largest intelligence service, the National Security Agency; chief of the Central Security Service; and the US Cyber Command. You might say that we had our secret military, the Navy’s 10th Fleet, the 24th Air Force, and the Second Army.”

  Bradley chuckled. “You all recall when that traitor, Edward Snowden papers unmasked the close technical cooperation and the loose alliance among British, German, French, Spanish, Swedish spy agencies, and we. Our US director of national intelligence, James Clapper, suggested to Congress that European governments’ professed outrage at the reports was at least partly hypocritical. He said that it reminded him of the classic movie Casablanca: ‘Clapper said, My God, there’s gambling going on here.’ What a joke. Hell, we were all doing it, and everyone knew it. All Snowden did was force everyone to act shocked for the sake of appearances. Besides the NSA, we collaborated on intelligence with the German BND, the Federal Intelligence Service, British GCHQ, the Spanish National Intelligence Centre CNI, and the French General Directorate for External Security DGSE. We conducted covert Internet ops with the Swedish security service SAEPO, and two Dutch agencies, the external MIVD and the internal security service, the AIVD. The tone of his whisper strengthened to emphasize his conviction. “We will expand on what we learned with those programs!”

  One of the officers asked. “So, all that fuss and shock about NSA snooping on our friends was hype?”

  “Of course, it was. The documents showed British officials lobbying the NSA on sharing of data with the Europeans and haggling over its security classification for more widespread dissemination. In the intelligence world, Britain did far more diplomacy; Britain made itself an indispensable bridge between America and Europe’s spies for sharing information. All the release of those documents did was force everyone to cover their ass. It didn’t change a thing regarding our intelligence gathering.”