Beware the Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Posted on Tue Jul 2nd, 2024 @ 9:38pm by Hale Stratton [Major, United States Army] & Emma Lynn Starsky & Victoire Olaffson [Lieutenant, United States Navy] & Chloé Rouen

1,791 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Winter is Coming
Location: Maine General Medical Center, Augusta, Maine
Timeline: 6 September 2010 - 8:30 a.m.

Vic stood atop the hill at the highest elevation she could find nearby Augusta, Maine and looked out over the city. She was trying to get her bearings before heading into City Limits in the hopes of finding some medical supplies to restock her field kit. From prior visits to the States she knew that Augusta held two decently sized medical centers and it was those that she was looking for though she had never come into the city from the same angle she was at now. She had hoped that with Augusta being a smaller city center that it may have escaped the same fate as Bangor and so she had come here.

She shuddered briefly at the memory of the percussive blasts washing over her at the house they had been staying in overnight and cleared her throat softly, panning her view across the city below her as she looked for sign of one of the medical centers.

Emma, one knee drawn up to her chest, sat on a low stone wall and watched. The road. The buildings. Vic on the hill with Jasper at her side. She watched and waited, wishing they were moving again. Moving always felt better than sitting still. Moving meant putting distance between her and him. How she knew she couldn't say but she knew that he hadn't given up. Wouldn't give up. At some point soon, she would have to disappear. Go on her own. She knew this like she knew who she was and how little hope there was for a future. Dog though, she thought, as she looked at Jasper. That's not a bad idea. Early warning system.

Vic walked back down the hill to Emma; extending out her Sig. "Do me a favor.... find someplace secure nearby and hunker down... perhaps the cabin we saw about twenty minutes back?" She looked over the girl with concern. "I know you are plenty capable but I don't want to risk both of us if something goes wrong and it's safer here on the outskirts than it will be in the city proper."

Emma signaled her agreement as she accepted the Sig. She made sure the safety was on and tucked it into the back of her jeans before heading off down the road toward the cabin. Separation is good, she thought. Give me time to think things through, leave a note.

Vic watched Emma depart; a pang of guilt settling in her stomach briefly; though she shook her head after a moment. Better that she is safe out here than for me to risk her life down there, she told herself. She watched for just a moment longer until Emma's figure faded into the sunlight and then she turned, giving Jasper a silent command to follow, and picked her way down the hill.

Someone had made an effort to clear the roads leading to the medical center. Vehicles had been placed across the adjoining streets to prevent the not-quite-dead from moving onto the main road. Buildings had been marked with "X" in bright red paint to indicate that the building had been cleared. All of them at first but less and less as one got closer to the medical center.

Vic stuck to the edges of the main road, glancing into the vehicles for the first hundred feet or so and then disregarding them altogether as she made her way as carefully as possible down the road; though that task proved to be more difficult than she’d have liked with there being very little to no cover to move between which forced her to hug the walls of buildings and to skirt the vehicles shoved to block the crossroads.

Harry Ayers was a man who prepared in advance and covered all the angles which meant that, while the convoy prepared to arrive in style, sentries were dispatched to find cover and vantage points. Stragglers would not be welcome and the orders were to dispatch them, preferably without making too much noise, though that could be covered if anyone mentioned it. His men taking care of shufflers in the area. That sort of thing.

The sentry in question, as cold-blooded as they came, someone who genuinely liked his work, had settled in a rooftop, lying flat and low. He trained his scope on the woman making her way toward the medical center and took aim.

Vic’s neck crawled with the feeling that she was being watched and she froze; hunkering down next to the derelict hulk of a bus as she looked around, trying to figure out what was causing the feeling. She wished she had her firearm for a moment but simply told herself that Emma would be safer with it than without as she loosened her knife in its sheathe to make it an easier draw.

They didn't always make it easy, sad to say, which was why they worked in pairs. Harry's orders. He signaled with a hand gesture to his partner opposite, on another rooftop, and saw him settle into the same position, bringing his weapon to bear. His partner, new to the apocalypse as they all were, went with two hits straight to the heart. Kill shots both of them.

Vic heard the shots and had just enough time to whirl on her heel toward the sound before they impacted her chest, catching her completely unexpectedly. Her hand shot to the wound and the adrenaline allowed her to pull her hand away, covered in blood before she fell backwards, sprawled across the ground as blood pooled out around her and her face dropped to a thin grimace.

The road stretched, empty in both directions, without any other sign of life and because it was safe, because the first of the two would not be denied, he shifted his position so that he could get a line of sight on her. Not to shoot, that would be a waste of bullets. No, not that. He sighted down the scope and watched as the life drained out of her body.

[Maine General Medical Center]

Chloé was sitting with her grandfather, Henri Rouen, at a picnic table in the central courtyard of the medical center. She was unsure if she was ever going to see René again, much less her parents. She looked at Henri and spoke in French. "How are we going to find René grand-pere?"

Henri gave Chloé a reassuring smile as he responded in French. "God will present us the path to your brother princess. We must have Faith in Him."

Chloé nodded. She had grown up to always have Faith in God's Will. Her grandfather was right. They would find René or René would find them. Survivors in the region would make for Bangor or Augusta and since Bangor was being evacuated and Augusta was the seat of the state government. It was possible that René was already somewhere in the small city.

There was a sudden flurry of activity in the courtyard that caught Henri and Chloé's attention. They both stood up and approached one of the State Troopers tasked with protecting the hospital. Henri spoke. 'What is happening Trooper Vance?"

Trooper Vance looked at the old man and his granddaughter. "A military convoy has been spotted heading this way. Lieutenant Kelly thinks it's the supply convoy 10th Mountain promised to send."

[Hospital Entrance]

Lieutenant Kelly and Doctor Brooks (Head of the FEMA Detail) stepped out of the hospital to greet the arrival of the convoy of two Hum-Vees and four 5-ton cargo trucks. Doctor Brooks stepped forward with an extended right hand as men exited the two Hum-Vees and the back of the first 5-ton. "You gentlemen are welcome sight I must say."

Harry Ayers, wearing a name tag that said 'Williams', stepped out of the lead Hum-Vee and gestured towards his men. They all knew their jobs because Harry believed in planning and discipline. Easy when the penalties for misbehaving ranged from ejection from the group to maiming to a whole host of lethal options. His second, Marcus Mosley, came up beside him wearing round, silver-framed glasses that they'd picked up at an optometrist. No prescription but it helped sell the bookish angle; that too, was part of the planning. "What's the situation," Harry, who was wearing captain's bars, said as he stepped up to the Lieutenant and his companion. "We've been ordered to protect the facility and arrange for supplies if you've a need."

Doctor Brooks seemed a little disappointed. "I was promised more supplies and staff. That the 10th Mountain Division was going to transport and escort all that here."

Lieutenant Kelly tapped the doctor's shoulder. "These men aren't with the 10th Mountain. They're Maine National Guard. 488th Military Police Company." He gestured to the bumper numbers that indicated their unit and status with the National Guard. "Sorry about the confusion Captain Williams, let's get you and your men situated with lodging. How many of you are there?"

"Thirty in all," Harry said. "Allow me to introduce Lieutenant Mosley. He's handling logistics. If you'll show him what you have, he'll work with you to get you what supplies we can. Once they've rested, my men will be happy to help you keep the facility secure."

Lieutenant Kelly gave a grateful sigh. "That would be great. All of E Troop and most of D Troop is at the heart of the city at the Governor's Mansion." He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. There's only ten State Troopers, including myself to provide security here at the hospital. Lodging is a block West of the hospital. Two college dormitories and a small condo. Plenty of space for you and your men."

"And while you're showing Mosley your supplies, how about you take me on tour of your guard positions." Harry's expression all but radiated sympathy for the overworked troopers who had been guarding the hospital. "I'm sure we can get your men some relief in short order."

Lieutenant Kelly smiled with a sense of relief as he motioned for the National Guard Lieutenant in spectacles to follow him. He glanced at Harry Williams. "I will have Sergeant Andrews come and take you to lodgings while I show Lieutenant Mosley the facility and introduce him to folks."

The plan was a simple one. Mosley, the polite and educated con artist, would gain access to their supplies under the guise of taking inventory and arranging for more supplies to be delivered. His men would assume guard positions and then, while the troopers were sleeping and off duty, they would strike. If all went well, by 8:00 p.m. tonight, the facility would be his.

 

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