Free Sanctuary: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series) by G. Michael Hopf Page B

would have to stay two steps ahead of Conner and the U.S. forces. Their silence did not indicate they were gone. They might be dealing with other problems but they would never leave him alone forever.
    Barone had grown attached to this area and wanted to find a way to stay and make it work. The city council had not made a final decision, but it appeared it would end in his favor. From a preliminary vote, three members wanted them to leave. The other members knew that would result in utter chaos. The council wanted to present a unified decision to the towns. Having political disagreements in the past was fine, but now political disagreements could literally end in bloodshed. Those in favor wanted to spend a few days attempting to convince their colleagues to change their votes. Barone had also planned to take the time to speak with those people. He would go to each one and plead his case and see exactly what they wanted. If there was one thing he understood, it was how a politician thought.
    When he came aboard the ship, the officer of the deck greeted him and informed him that Master Sergeant Simpson was looking for him. There was something important that he needed to relay to him.
    Barone made his way down noticeably empty passageways. Many of the men were gone, either in town or deployed throughout Oregon and Northern California on long-range recon patrols. He missed the hustle and bustle of a full ship, but he gladly exchanged that for the knowledge that his men were accomplishing great things out among the people.
    Simpson had requested that Barone meet him in the CIC upon his return to the ship. When he opened the door of the operations center, he walked into a flurry of activity.
    “Colonel, back here, sir,” Simpson called out.
    Barone still had sweat clinging to his skin and his clothes were soaked. When he stepped back into the briefing room he was greeted by his entire staff. All eyes locked on him as he wiped his face and took a seat. On the screen he saw a map of Northern California with two red areas circled.
    “I see the map of NorCal up there. What happened?” Barone asked, cutting to the point.
    “Sir, two of our LRRP patrols were attacked. One in the city of Eureka and the other near Redding,” Master Sergeant Simpson said.
    “First question I have is what were our guys doing so far south?”
    “Sir, that was my call. They called in permission to go down there,” Major Ashley said.
    “Major Ashley, why didn’t you think that was important to tell me?” Barone asked, irritation creeping into his voice.
    “Sir, our men have been encountering troubles here and there, but they have always been successful in setting up contact. I thought it wasn’t a request that needed your approval.”
    “Major, I can’t stress enough the importance of chain of command. If it pertains to large-scale operational decisions, you must run it by me,” Barone chastised.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Now, what do we have?”
    “As you know we have had small engagements with civilian gangs throughout Oregon. What makes this different is they encountered another military force.”
    “Marines, is it the other ARG?”
    Ashley looked at the other men and Simpson, then turned to Barone and said, “No, sir, these are not Marines. These aren’t U.S. forces at all.”
    “What happened to our men?”
    “The patrol in Eureka was ambushed after meeting with the mayor there. We lost five men. Outside of Redding, our patrol came upon them along the side of the road. When our troops pulled up, this group opened fire. Our men returned fire and destroyed them. We know they’re not U.S. because this is what was transmitted back.” Ashley took the remote and clicked a button. The screen flipped from the map to a picture of a light utility vehicle with a machine mounted in the back.
    “What is that?” Barone asked, leaning in to get a closer look.
    “We didn’t know right away either, but we found out once we ran it through our