Chapter Thirty

Everyone looked at me like I'd gone crazy, even the techs sitting throughout the trailer. I shrugged. "It shouldn't be too hard. Blow enough ice off both the north and south pole and you'll drop ocean temperatures real fast. The weather will turn to shit for a while, but that only helps our cause if we don't leave zombies anywhere to hide from it. The only hiccup is making sure you have enough bunkers and greenhouses to hold the survivors until things settle down again. We'd also need to firebomb everything a second time once everything melts to make sure the parasite is completely wiped out."

"What you're suggesting would have wide-spread impact and possibly permanent consequences to our planet's environment. There's no certainty we'd ever recover."

I huffed out a bitter laugh. "And you don't think letting zombies roam free will do the same thing? Humans have survived ice ages in the past and that was without any of our modern technology. We can do it again. I'm not saying it'll be comfortable or easy, but you asked what I'd do and that's it. It's the only way I can see the zombie threat completely wiped out. Then again, what the hell do I know? I was still in high school when the zombie apocalypse started."

"Your idea is certainly unique," the Secretary of Defense replied with amusement in his voice. "Unfortunately, there's two rather large problem with it. One is that, despite popular belief, dropping a glacier in the ocean isn't enough to cause an ice age. The second is that scientists have found ancient viruses and bacteria trapped in polar ice and melting it could potentially release those into our environment. Even if it stopped the zombies, we could cause a second, deadlier epidemic."

"In that case, I can't imagine a way to wipe out the threat except what I've already said—we press into enemy territory, do an in-depth search for survivors, knock down the nests, and firebomb them when there's nowhere left for them to hide. Then we wait a few weeks for the surviving zombies to climb out of the rubble and firebomb them all over again."

There was a moment of silence, then the President slowly nodded. "If no one has any objections, we'll try it. Commander Trent, consider Memphis the testing ground for Mr. Bryant's strategy. I expect a full report in three days about your progress."

The President reached across his desk and his side of the split feed went dark. On the neighboring feed, the Secretary of Defense shook his head in disbelief. "There's going to be hell to pay after you do this, but I can't find any fault in Mr. Bryant's logic. There's no point in saving infested buildings and clearing the field will give us a better view of what we're dealing with. You have our full support, Commander Trent. Whatever you need to make this mission a success, call it in and you'll have it."

Commander Trent craned his neck to look at me. "Well? It's your plan, son. What do you think?"

I took a second to collect my thoughts, then said, "Clearing out the usable supplies will take the longest. It'd go faster if we had a bunch of delivery drones we could load up and send to a drop point on the rear lines. That would save us from having to go in person. As for the buildings, setting charges to knock them down would take too long and bazookas don't have enough firepower. We need short-range missiles and air support prepared with the fire bombs I mentioned. I don't know what you have, but you want something that'll burn hot and spread the flames into the rain sewers. We'll also need the biggest construction machinery you can find so we can set up a fire break."

"I'll have the drones sent in the next supply drop and we can equip air support with the missiles you need. Just call it in when you're ready."

Commander Trent leaned forward to say, "We should be ready for the first missile twelve hours after the drone shipment arrives and we'll aim to take down a block at a time so we're not wasting ammunition."

"Sounds good. I expect a report at 0600 tomorrow." As the Secretary of Defense reached out to turn off his feed, Commander Trent snapped to salute. He relaxed as soon as the line went dead then glanced at me with a raised eyebrow.

"An artificial ice age?" he asked in amusement.

I laughed, short and humorless. "I saw the way the winds were blowing. I just said the craziest thing I could think of so they'd forget whatever plans they had in mind for me. Psychos don't make good poster boys."

"I hope you realize the rest of your plan is something Command already considered and dismissed."

I rolled my eyes. "Only because no one wants to take the blame for knocking down an entire city."

His eyebrow lifted even higher. "Exactly. Who do you think is going to get the blame now if this doesn't pan out?"

I winced, then sagged in resignation. "Whatever. At least we'll be doing something proactive while the real strategists are figuring out a long-term solution."

The Commander glanced over at one of the techs who were pretending not to eavesdrop on our conversation and said, "Horus, send the signal for a Company-wide meeting. Let's spread the word of our new SOP. Bryant, head out and rejoin your platoon."

I heard a buzzer sound as I headed outside. People immediately began pouring out of trailers to group up in the bare dirt at the center of the ring of trailers. When I found Hanson, White, and the rest of my squad, they all gave me looks of askance but didn't actually ask any questions. They instinctively knew the meeting would tell them everything they needed to know.

The Commander exited the Intel trailer a few minutes later and stood in the doorway as he provided new standing orders to the Company. I was impressed. In the few minutes he'd been alone, he'd taken my pitiful strategy and turned it into a working model.

"We're splitting the camp," he announced. "Platoons one through four will be group one. Platoons five and six will be group two. Group two will taking up a forward overwatch position on the other side of the river. I need A1 and A2 equipment shuffled to provide two fully equipped armories, one for each group. Group two will be taking two of the billet buses and the command center. Medical, Intel, the Mess, and the Garage will remain with group one, so shuffle supplies to make it work.

Group one will be relocating to the nearest airstrip and securing it. A cargo plane is en route with extra equipment and personnel, which brings me to our new SOP. Our orders are to clear the city of survivors and clean out as many supplies as we can. Once we're done, we will clear the field for air support to level the remains via missile strike. The extra personnel on their way will be tasked with setting up firebreaks to keep fires from spreading out of control and driving the delivery drones we'll be using to move supplies.

From this point on, no one in the uninfected group is permitted to work alone. Pick a buddy and stay with them at all times. Group two, all Lich personnel are temporarily green lit for overtime. I expect you to keep an eye on the immunes going with you and continue to use them as guides to tell you when to take breaks. They are not green lit for overtime, so don't allow them to continue beyond ten hours. I'll leave each platoon's Overwatch to sort out shifts and make field decisions.

Prepare yourselves. The next few days aren't going to be easy, but there's hope the end result will give us a forward position we can use to begin pushing back against the zombie threat. As always, report any changes in zombie activity to your CO and don't be a hero. We need each and every one of you to prioritize your own health and well-being. Overwatch Sergeants, meet in Command for a more detailed briefing. The rest of you—dismissed."

My squad immediately turned to me and White asked, "What happened?"

I gave her an apologetic smile and shrugged. "I got grumpy and told the President he needed to get off his ass and actually do something. He asked me what I'd do and this is it. It's not a long-term solution, but at least we'll be slowing their advance."

"You got grumpy at the President?" Hanson exclaimed in disbelief.

I smirked at him. "What's he going to do? Kill me?"

Hanson spluttered. "Maybe!"

"Let's get ready to move," White said, cutting in as the voice of reason. "It doesn't matter how the orders came into being. Orders are orders and Overwatch won't waste time once the command briefing is over. Crazy, make sure our packs are on the right billet bus, then head to the supply stockpiles and grab anything you think we can use in the field. Sleepy, head to the Armory and find out which one we're taking. Make sure they don't stint us on incendiaries. Doc, get with Medical and help move the field supplies over to the Command trailer. Don't forget a few decontamination sprayers. Happy, Grumpy, both of you head to the Mess. We can get food in the city, but we'll need travel stoves to cook it and I don't want to waste time looking for ones we can loot. Pick up a few boxes of MREs as backup. I'll get the supplies we need from Intel. Regroup in twenty in front of the maintenance trailer."

The soldiers assigned to the Mess trailer had already predicted our needs and were in the process of stacking supplies out front. Hanson and I joined the group of Lich carrying them to the Command Center while another group worked to stow everything in the trailer's undercarriage. I made sure there were at least four of the travel stoves White had asked for, plus a basic supply of pots, pans, cooking utensils, paper plates, and plasticware.

It didn't take long to get everything sorted since the entire camp was on the same page about what needed to be done. By the time we regrouped at the maintenance bay, squads were forming up around their Overwatch Sergeants to get further orders, just like we were.

Sergeant James gave us a single command. "Prepare to sortie."

White gave him a proper salute, then led us to the Armory where we suited up in combat gear and were issued X-50 utility rifles with enough backup magazines to fill every pocket we had. I noticed Hanson had gone pale as the inventory Sergeant tucked a few grenades in his vest and I made a mental note to see what I had to do to get him assigned a supporting role if it turned out he wasn't cut out for combat.

I popped in the earbud I was given and listened for my turn. When it came up, I followed the same procedure everyone else had used. "Zed-363-5 to D-Nav. Bryant reporting. Register call sign Grumpy. Comms are clear. Grumpy is go. Over."

"Welcome back, Grumpy. I hear we have you to thank for kicking the nest. Over."

"I only said what everyone was thinking. The longer we wait, the more zombies are going to make it this far. Clearing out survivors is good and all, but we could be doing more."

"Um..." Hanson's voice came through my earbud and I turned to give him an encouraging smile. "Zed-363-6 to D-Nav?"

"D-Nav to Zed-363-6, identify yourself. Over."

"Hanson reporting. Register call sign Happy."

D-Nav hooted in laughter. "White almost has a full set. How's your comms, Happy? Over."

"You're coming through loud and clear. Over."

As soon as everyone was ready and accounted for, we returned to Sergeant James and formed up into two lines of three with White, Sleepy, and Crazy up front. Sergeant James glanced over our preparations with a penetrating stare, then said, "Your mission parameters are as follows. You will take two Humvees ahead of the main caravan and clear the road of obstructions between here Memphis International Airport where you will set up a forward operating base. Any questions?"

No one said a word.

"Move out."