Fractured State: Rogue State Part 1

Fractured State.

Rogue State.

Steven Konkoly.

To Kosia, Matthew, and Sophia, the heart and soul of my writing.

PART I.

CHAPTER 1.

The dune buggy carrying Nathan and his family slowed with the rest of the convoy as they drew even with a dense stand of trees several hundred feet to the left of the road.

After bypa.s.sing a lifeless town along one of the few paved roads they had encountered, they'd driven at breakneck speed down this unimproved dirt path for the past fifteen minutes. This was the first time they'd slowed since emerging from the tunnel under the border.

The mix of tall Mexican elders and low, sprawling mesquite surrounded a modest, hacienda-style home, mostly concealing it from view. Some kind of rendezvous point, Nathan suspected.

The synthetic daylight image provided by Nathan's helmet-mounted night-vision goggles confirmed his suspicion. Two military transport trucks with covered cargo beds appeared beyond the far corner of the hacienda as their dune buggy continued down the road. A few SUVs were parked behind the military trucks. Nathan looked over his shoulder; the last compound they had pa.s.sed was a speck on the horizon behind the last dune buggies on the road.

"What is this place?" yelled Nathan.

The driver half turned his head. "One of our staging areas. We'll swap the dune buggy for a more comfortable ride. We have a long drive ahead of us."

Keira looked at him from the front pa.s.senger seat. He couldn't see her expression beyond the night-vision goggles pulled over her face, but he could guess what she was thinking. Where the h.e.l.l was Jose taking them?

The first dune buggy in the column turned sharply toward the hacienda, and the rest of the squat vehicles followed. Looking across the empty expanse of spa.r.s.e scrub brush between the road and house, Nathan wondered why they followed one another so closely. Then he noticed the signs. Yellow background with a black skull and crossbones on the top; black with the yellow words DANGER-MINES on the bottom half. Either the signs had been posted as a deterrent, or Jose wasn't messing around.

"Dad. Look." Owen was pointing at one of the signs less than twenty feet from their vehicle.

"I see it," said Nathan. "I'm sure the driver sees it, too."

"We're good to go," said the driver.

The signs ended once they reached the trees, and the dune buggies headed toward the group of trucks and SUVs parked next to the hacienda. As soon as the buggies stopped, the soldiers that had hitched a ride with Jose's team jumped to the hard-packed ground and began unloading their gear. They were loading their spent parachutes and packs into the military vehicles before Nathan got Owen unbuckled from the dune buggy and lowered him to the dirt. The trucks' diesel engines roared to life moments later, carrying the soldiers back down the same path through the middle of the minefield.

"Almost like they didn't exist," said Keira, standing next to him.

"Not 'almost,'" said a voice to their right. "As far as anyone here is concerned, they don't exist."

Nathan and Keira turned to face Jose, who walked briskly toward them.

"You're working for the Mexican government?" said Nathan. "I suppose that makes sense."

Mexico stood to gain from an independent California, particularly in terms of trade agreements. Federally imposed trade restrictions with Mexico had hit California hard, severely limiting the amount of petroleum the state could import. Even worse, the new ant.i.trade laws rendered California's plan to fund the construction of several nuclear triad plants in Baja California impossible. The deal surrounding the nuclear plants would have guaranteed a significant source of fresh water and electricity for California.

"Nathan. I guarantee you I'm not working for the Mexicans. I can't wait to explain everything to you, but it can't happen now. I need to get you on the road immediately. Grab your gear and follow me," said Jose, gesturing for them to move toward the SUVs.

"Where are we headed?"

"Let's walk and talk. I seriously need to get you moving."

Nathan helped Keira shoulder her backpack, then grabbed his own. They walked as a family with Jose to the running vehicles.

"I'm sending you about four hours south to a coastal town called Puerto Peasco, where you'll take a boat to Cabo San Lucas."

Keira beat him to his question: "How long will we be on that boat?"

He held queasy memories of more than a few spur-of-the-moment, beer-fueled Friday-night road trips to Cabo in college. The prospect of spending twenty-plus hours in a car driving through Mexico had sounded far less appealing the next day, nursing a hangover. If the trip to Puerto Peasco took four hours, that still left them with a lot of distance to cover-on a boat.

"Admittedly, the transit will take about twenty-four hours," said Jose. "But it'll take you completely off the grid for a full day. We'll sneak you ash.o.r.e in Cabo."

"That's a long time in a boat," said Nathan.

"It's a luxury yacht," said Jose. "Trust me, it won't be uncomfortable, and you'll be completely safe. Same with your accommodations in Cabo. Totally secure. You'll have a private beach-the works."

"Whoa," said Owen.

"It really is a nice place, and you guys deserve a break," said Jose.

Nathan almost started to tell Jose about their plans to travel north and meet up with his parents, but decided to keep that to himself. Jose had s.n.a.t.c.hed them from the jaws of death, but he was still a complete stranger whose ultimate motivations were unclear. With Nathan's parents safely hidden in Idaho, there was no reason to turn down Jose's offer. Not that he really had a choice.

Jose ushered them to a white SUV and opened the rear gate so they could off-load their backpacks and rifles. While Nathan swung his pack into the cargo compartment, he saw a man carrying a body over his shoulder toward the next SUV in the column. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head. Keira stood next to him, watching the somber event.

"I'll see you in a few days," said Jose.

"You're not coming with us?"

"Unfortunately, I have to tend to a few things before I can break free. I'll explain everything in Cabo."

"What happens after Cabo?" said Nathan.

"That's completely up to you. I promise."

Nathan shook his hand. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Nathan," he said, accepting Keira's hand next.

"We owe you for this," she said.

"You don't owe me anything," said Jose.

"Where's Mr. Quinn?" said Owen.

"He'll be in a different SUV," said Jose.

"Why?"

"Well, he . . . uh . . . ," Jose faltered.

"He's riding with Alison," said Keira.

"Oh," said Owen.

"I'll see you guys soon," said Jose.

Less than a minute later, they had threaded their way out through the mines and were headed south on the dirt road that had brought them to the hacienda. Their dune buggy driver had a.s.sumed the same role for their transit to Puerto Peasco. A second heavily armed and body armorclad operative sat in the front pa.s.senger seat, his head panning back and forth as he scanned the sides of the road ahead with night-vision goggles. Nathan craned his neck between the rear bench headrests, examining the compartment behind them. His rifle and Keira's weapon were within easy reach if needed.

Nathan squeezed his wife's hand. Her arm was draped around Owen, pulling him tight against her vest, as the SUV bounced on the rough dirt road. She squeezed back and smiled under her night-vision goggles.

"You should close your eyes and get some sleep," said Nathan. "We're in good hands."

Their vehicle was squeezed between two SUVs loaded with Jose's people, heading rapidly away from the border.

"What about you?" she whispered back.

"I'll rest when we're on the boat."

"All right."

Keira raised her goggles and looked through the windows before leaning her helmet against Owen's and closing her eyes.

"It's dark out there," she said.

"There's nothing to see, really."

"I love you," she said.

"I love you more."

Nathan surveyed the landscape, seeing little more than scrub and the occasional tree. A line of utility poles appeared in the distance ahead of them, growing closer as the convoy sped down the road. When they reached the tall wooden posts, the SUVs turned right onto a paved two-lane road.

"What road is this?" said Nathan.

The driver responded, "It's part of the Highway 2 bypa.s.s. We'll take this south for about ten minutes, then use an old farming road to cross the Colorado River and intersect with Highway 40. Forty takes us most of the way to Puerto Peasco."

"Thank you."

He had more questions, but he didn't want to distract Jose's people from the critical task at hand-safely transporting his family south. That was the only thing that mattered right now. Getting them as far away from Cerberus as possible.

The convoy navigated through the lifeless expanse of land that had long ago given up its fertile soil. Every half mile or so they pa.s.sed a derelict irrigation well on the side of the road, recognizable solely by the concrete footing that had once supported a pump. Thirty years ago, the hardscrabble ground flanking this road would have held lush green fields of cotton or vegetable plants. The water fight north of the border had destroyed the Colorado River Valley in Mexico.

Their SUV dipped in and out of a shallow gulley.

"You just crossed the Colorado River," said the driver. "Hard as concrete. You can cross anywhere south of the border at any time, outside of flash flood season."

Soon after crossing the dry riverbed, they turned south on another two-lane paved road that his driver identified as Highway 40. They'd follow this road along the eastern banks of the Sea of Cortez until they reached their destination. Nathan had just contemplated shutting his eyes when the SUV slowed. He leaned over Owen, peering between the front seats at the road ahead, unable to determine why the driver had decelerated.

"What's happening?"

"Lead vehicle spotted a checkpoint ahead," said the driver. "They'll check it out and report."

Their SUV came to a gentle stop while the lead vehicle continued down the highway.

"Will it be a problem?"

"Depends. We have agreements in place with federal and state police authorities, and the local cartel, but the situation is fluid. Nighttime checkpoints are pretty rare."

"Is that a good or bad thing?"

"Usually bad. You might want to grab your rifle and wake your wife."

"I'm awake," said Keira.

Nathan reached over the seat and retrieved Keira's MP-20, placing it in the foot well between her legs before grabbing his rifle.

"Windows down," said the front pa.s.senger, lowering his window and unlocking the SUV's doors. "Keep the hardware out of sight for now."

Nathan pressed the b.u.t.ton to lower his window, breathing in the cool night air. He glanced at Keira, who fumbled for the b.u.t.ton with her one free hand.

"Lower your night vision," said Nathan.

"I got her window," said the driver, the gla.s.s next to Keira dropping quickly.

She flipped the goggles in place and gently moved Owen off her shoulder. Pulling the MP-20 into her lap, she faced the door and asked Nathan if he could see anything.

Nathan leaned his head out of the window, staring down the road. The lead SUV had traveled about several hundred yards, approaching three military-style vehicles arranged in a roadblock. At least one of the vehicles had some kind of turret-mounted machine gun. He lifted his goggles, weary of the bright synthetic daylight image, taking in the scene with the naked eye. The cl.u.s.ter of vehicles blocking the road was little more than a shadowy silhouette.

"Shouldn't we find another way?" said Nathan. "This looks serious."

"Highway 40 is the only easy way south. When the river started to dry out, they built a maze of concrete irrigation ca.n.a.ls here. No way to get past those. We might be able to buy our way through if this is a group of bored federales."

"What if it isn't?"

"We could backtrack a little and work our way west to Highway 4. That would take us south through a s.h.i.thole of a town called Estacin Coahuila. Jose wanted us to steer clear of it."

As if on cue, a sudden explosion due west of the SUV exposed a distant town-the s.h.i.thole in question, Nathan guessed. Streams of green tracers floated across the horizon between the low buildings, answered by red tracers headed in the opposite direction. Nathan couldn't guess the distance, but it felt uncomfortably close. Dozens of tracers ricocheted skyward, arching into the flat landscape surrounding the town. He lowered his goggles, changing the scene to daylight. Colored tracers continued to race back and forth through the distant town.

Their driver addressed the lead vehicle over the radio net. "Alpha, this is Echo. You seeing this? What's going on up there?"