Read Carlie Simmons (Book 5): One Final Mission for Free Online

orbit drifts in space. We will have a
broadcast out with significant updates on shortwave radio every two hours at
this frequency,” he said, handing a stack of index cards which all bore the
same number to Shane, who took one and passed them along to each member.
Although they would have radio contact with Fort Lewis for part of the flight,
the individual comms they had would only work between themselves.
    “The ham radios loaded in the cargo are
already dialed in to the correct frequency but any shortwave or improvised
transistor radio will work, though you won’t be able to relay any messages.
We’ll keep you posted regularly on the location of the Olympia whenever
we get updates from the sub commander.”
    The hallway terminated at the large
double-doors that led to the airfield. On either side were two guards who
pivoted and swung open the heavy doors.
    As they walked in two rows onto the
airfield, their cumbersome packs and duffle bags bobbing against their bodies,
they saw the rooftop of A-Wing lined with people. All manner of intel
personnel, operators, team leaders, and other members they had come to call
brothers and sisters were silently watching their procession to the waiting
C-130.
    Shane stopped and looked over his shoulder
at the hundred or so people filling the edges of the roof while the rest of his
group did the same. He glanced back at Duncan whose face normally bore an
eternal look of confidence and saw a solemn expression, his eyes still fierce
but backlit with a haunting uncertainty.
    The individual personnel that flanked them
from above raised their right arms in unison, holding their salutes as Shane
turned around and resumed leading the group to the rear ramp of the plane. He
and the others dropped their gear in the center of the cargo hold and then
strode back down the ramp. Duncan met each person with a firm handshake, the
roar of the engines serving as their farewell symphony. The personnel on the
roof were still standing at attention. Shane moved a few feet out from under
the fuselage along with the rest of his group, each one of them standing
shoulder-to-shoulder beside him to return the salute. His boots felt firmly
rooted on the blacktop as if they had grown tendrils into the earth below.
Though he had always been the first one to spring at a new mission, Shane found
the fibers of his soul yearning to remain tethered to that spot as he looked
out at the faces of his brethren in the distance. He felt his heart already
racing with longing for the place that had become his home. The rush of
countless joyous moments with Carlie swept over the fields of his mind. He forced
himself to do as he had done on many missions in younger days and bid a
permanent farewell to his countrymen, knowing he wouldn’t see these shores
again. He swiftly lowered his tense hand in a salute then pried his boots free
and turned towards the ramp, giving Duncan a final nod as they filed back into
the belly of the plane.

 
    Chapter 8
    Once the plane had disappeared from the
horizon, Duncan returned to his office in A-Wing. He searched the cobalt-blue
skyline one last time from his window for the faint image of the C-130 and then
he sat down on a rolling chair beside his oaken desk. The same desk that had
been occupied by his predecessor Conrad Lavine. The same nightmarish
considerations that Lavine had faced bore down on Duncan’s shoulders and he
felt like there was a concrete hand preventing him from moving. Duncan took out
a key from his pocket and opened a drawer, extracting a manila envelope. Inside
were numerous pages of handwritten notes indicating the current food stores
present at Fort Lewis. The number “68” was circled in heavy black ink, like a
crater was trying to contain the pressing meaning of what lay inside. Sixty-eight
fucking days of food left for our current personnel. How am I supposed to feed
all these people after that? He slid another paper over the first one and
studied the handmade