Lariat Advance

[brucearmstrong65]

Lariat Advance – Chapter 1

Thursday, November 22, 2018 – Thanksgiving Day

Dave Schmidt loved Thanksgiving. Actually, he loved any excuse for getting friends and family together, but for some intangible reason, Thanksgiving was his favorite. Food, friends, family, football just struck the right note with Dave. A retired Air Force colonel, Dave settled down within a 90-minute drive of F.E. Warren Air Force Base, where he had been stationed several times over his career with the Strategic Air Command.

How things change, Dave mused as he helped Rosa, his wife of more than 30 years. I pulled missile duty God knows how many times there over the years, and now my son's doing the same thing. Hell, he might even be in the same LCC I served in years ago.

Bruce was Dave & Rosa's only son. Now a captain, Bruce was stationed at Warren and serving at the Alpha-1 Missile Alert Facility, part of Warren's 319th Missile Squadron. Luckily, Bruce got the leave he requested for Thanksgiving, along with a friend and fellow officer, Lieutenant Chuck Conner. The two officers didn't have to be back at Warren until Monday morning, when they were due for another 24-hour tour at Alpha-1, which was located two hours away from Dave & Rosa's house, on the other side of Cheyenne.

At least it's *supposed* to be a 24-hour tour, Dave thought, depending on the weather. He remembered a couple of 24-hour tours that had turned into 48-hour tours – and, during one memorable blizzard, a 72-hour tour until Warren could safely get a relief crew to the rather isolated MAF.

"Are you going to stand there and wool-gather or are you going to help me?" Rosa asked with a smile, bringing Dave out of his reverie as she brought plates and silverware to the table. Dave laughed and took Rosa in his arms from behind, giving her a gentle caress. "Not that kind of help, mister! Well, at least not right now."

A roar of noise came from the living room, signaling either that the Redskins had scored or, more likely, the Cowboys, since everyone gathered in front of the TV was a diehard Cowboys fan. From the doorway between the dining and living room, Dave surveyed the crowd and once again remembered how much he liked Thanksgiving.

Rosa slipped in beside him. "Okay, folks, here's your choice: My Thanksgiving feast or a football game. Dinner is now ready." Had Dave and Rosa stayed in the doorway, they would likely have been trampled. Rosa's Thanksgiving feasts were a wonder to behold, and a Thanksgiving invitation was well and truly appreciated by all who attended.

A voice from the crowd yelled out: "You made tamales this year, didn't you, Rosa?"

Rosa stopped for a moment and put a look of concern on her face. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't?" Bruce spoke up and said, "Not a chance, mom!" Everyone laughed and applauded as Rosa carried a serving tray stacked high with the homemade Mexican dish that had become a staple of their gatherings. Dave followed with a turkey, the size of which, he joked, was bigger than the first plane he ever trained in at the Air Force Academy.

When all the trays of food were brought to the giant handmade oak table, more than one person thought it couldn't hold up under the burden – though, every year, it somehow was equal to the task.

Everyone stood behind a chair at the table and, taking hands, bowed their heads for Dave's prayer from the head of the table. "Lord, we thank you for the food we are about to receive. We thank you for allowing us all to gather here for another Thanksgiving of good food and even better fellowship. Help us to remember how very much we all have to be thankful for. In Jesus' name, Amen." A hearty chorus of Amen's rang out from around the table.

Later That Same Night

Dave walked Jerry and Patience Garner, their next-door neighbors, to the front door and watched them walk across the side yard, through a gate built there many years before, and up to their front door. “Next-door” was a relative term in Centennial; the Garners’ and the Schmidts’ front doors were separated by a good 200 yards, which was considered closer than most. Once the last car had left their driveway, Dave locked the gate remotely and went back inside to the living room – earlier filled with football noises, now quiet except for Bruce and Chuck talking in front of the fireplace. Rosa brought the coffee tray in from the kitchen and she and Dave joined the boys.

"How're things out at Alpha-1, boys? You enjoying the MAF duty, Chuck?"

"Yessir, Colonel. I wondered if I'd get a little claustrophobic at first, but it hasn't been a problem so far."

"Enough of that sir stuff, Chuck. I gave that up almost five years ago for a very nice pension check each month. Now it's just Dave."

"I'll try to remember that, Col – um, sir – I mean, Dave." Everyone else chuckled and, after a moment, Chuck did too.

"We've been busy out there, Dad, more so than usual lately. The tempo of things seem to have picked up a little bit – inspections are sharper than usual, for example – and you remember how sharp the inspections could be."

Dave nodded at that. "Any idea why things are tightening up?"

"No clue, Dad,” Bruce explained. “Our alert level hasn't been bumped up, guys are still going on leave the same as usual. The inspectors are really cracking down, though, even on the littlest stuff. Mind you, I'm not saying that's a bad thing when you work around nukes, but it's a definite change – especially in the last couple weeks. Say, did I mention that they doubled our emergency supplies day before yesterday?"

That bit of news got Dave's attention. "No you didn't, son. Anybody tell you why?"

"Nope, the guys from topside just said 'Orders from the wing commander,' though I suspect they came from Omaha." Omaha was the home to Offutt Air For Base and the Air Force's Global Strike Command, successor to the Strategic Air Command Dave had served in for so many years.

Dave asked, "That brings you up to what now, about four weeks' post-strike supplies?"

Bruce nodded. "That's the official length of time, four weeks, but as you remember, most everyone plans to stretch the supplies out for twice as long, if we have a need to."

Dave grunted and took a sip of his coffee. Each MAF, he knew from personal experience, was equipped with food, water, medical supplies, and other items to allow the Launch Control Center crews to survive for two weeks after a nuclear strike – if the LCC survived the expected counterforce strike from the then-Soviet Union. Most crews had decided to go on half-rations post strike, allowing them to stay underground for four weeks. Now, the crews were being equipped to stay down for as long as eight weeks post-strike.

By itself, Dave thought, the increased readiness meant nothing except the upper echelons cracking down on the LCC crews. Increased readiness and doubling supplies suggests somebody's anticipating trouble.

Rosa glanced at the three men as everybody sipped their coffee. She knew the tension in the room had gone up, and having been an Air Force wife for more than three decades, she knew more than the men – even Dave – gave her credit for. She kept her peace and, in a light tone of voice, asked if anyone was ready for some leftovers.

The three men groaned in unison. Dave stood up and stretched. "Any more of your good cooking and I'll have to go back on active duty to lose some weight!" Everyone laughed and stood up, placing their now-empty mugs on the coffee tray. Dave suggested they call it an evening and, to a chorus of yawns and stretches, everyone agreed.

Still later that night – Dave & Rosa's bedroom

As the couple readied for bed, Rosa, after checking to see the bedroom door was closed, quietly asked her husband, "The increased readiness, the extra supplies. Somebody's bracing for trouble, aren't they? Maybe even an attack?"

Dave briefly thought about trying to "happy talk" Rosa, but they'd been together too long; Rosa would have seen right through it.

"You hit it right on the head, mi esposa. Somebody in Omaha or the Pentagon is expecting trouble – probably with Russia, maybe China. We're damned lucky Bruce and Chuck were able to get out here for a couple days. I wouldn't be surprised if they got recalled before they leave Sunday."

Rosa and Dave climbed into bed. She took his hand and asked softly, "What'll we do if there is a strike?" Dave put his arm around her and squeezed her hand. "Just what we always planned to do – head down to The Hole and hang on tight. The alert facilities and silos might not even be hit in an attack."

Rosa snuggled up against him. "But it is possible, right? What you used to a call a counterforce strike? The enemy hits our silos, launch centers, and command bunkers in an effort to prevent or at least delay retaliation?"

Dave smiled slightly. "I guess you really did listen when I talked about that stuff over the years. Russia doesn't have the warheads to hit all the silos with multiple warheads anymore. Even if they fooled our intelligence and kept the warheads, we’re a fair ways to the west of Warren and the missile fields here, and we've got The Hole, so I think we'd come out okay."

"What about Bruce and Chuck and all the others at the launch centers?"

"A direct hit on a Launch Control Center and they've probably had it. Anything *but* a direct hit, and they could survive. The Air Force thinks so – that's why they doubled the supplies, I guess."

Rosa sighed. "Well, we'll worry about that tomorrow. Now, I believe we talked earlier about your helping me with something..." She smiled and turned the bedside light out.

[brucearmstrong65]

Lariat Advance – Chapter 2

Friday, November 23, 2018 – 7 AM Mountain Time

Dave sat at his kitchen nook looking first at the pile of Black Friday ads and then at his wife. "Rosa, have I told you how much I love the fact that you don't like shopping?"

Rosa smiled as she refilled his coffee cup. "I never said I don’t like shopping, hon. I said that I don't like shopping on Black Friday. I'll be checking Amazon's deals later today, so don't get too excited." Dave rolled his eyes for effect as Bruce and Chuck came into the room in sweats and T-shirts.

"Good sleep, guys?" Dave asked as he slid two empty coffee mugs in their direction, which Rosa promptly filled with coffee.

Before either one could answer, the phone next to Dave rang. He picked it up, answered, listened for a moment and then handed it to Bruce with the comment, "Don't get too comfortable there."

Bruce took the phone and said, "Captain Schmidt speaking." The conversation was one-sided and short. Bruce listened, only saying "Yes sir" or "I understand, sir" a couple of times, and then hanging up. Bruce glanced at the inquiring faces around him and spoke.

"That was the squadron commander. All leaves and passes cancelled. We've been recalled and ordered to report by 1200 hours." Turning to Chuck, he said, "Chuck, why don't you go on upstairs and get ready? I'll be along in a bit."

Rosa and Dave were both frowning as a startled but now very-awake Chuck headed up the stairs. Dave spoke first. "Any explanation why, son?"

Bruce took a sip of coffee, deciding what to share. "Not really, Dad. We're now at Round House, DEFCON 3, and because of Strike Command’s higher readiness, everyone’s being recalled. The CO didn’t explain any further, he just to get back to Warren ASAP."

Dave got up and walked into the living room, picked up the remote and turned the flat-screen TV on, then switched to Fox News and put it on split-screen with CNN. Neither channel seemed to be reporting anything out of the normal. "Well, the talking heads haven't announced our impending doom yet, so let's get some breakfast before you and Chuck have to take off. Huevos rancheros and a warmed-up tamale sound good?" Bruce nodded agreement and they returned to the kitchen, keeping an open ear for anything on the TV relating to the alert.

Lieutenant Connor came downstairs in his uniform a few minutes later and joined them in the kitchen. Addressing Bruce, he said, "All packed and ready to report, sir."

Bruce looked at his watch and then said, "Well, I'm not, so why don't you sit down here and have some breakfast while I get myself cleaned up? I'd like to head out within the hour, Lieutenant." Lieutenant Connor replied, "Very good, sir," and sat down as Chuck headed up the stairs.

Rosa leaned against the kitchen counter, studying Lieutenant Connor's face. "First alert, Chuck?"

Chuck smiled and nodded his head. "That obvious, ma'am?"

Both Rosa and Dave smiled, and Dave spoke up. "I can't remember how many recall and alert calls I got in the middle of the night. I swear SAC never conducted alert drills unless it was zero-dark-thirty! Nothing ever came of any of them, not even the alerts during the '73 war in the Mideast or on 9/11. But, SAC said jump and we jumped. That's what readiness is all about."

The chatter from the talking heads in the living room continued with no sign of trouble. It was the typical morning show blather – the latest political news from Washington mixed with funny animal videos and the weather.

0830 – In Front of the Schmidt home

Captain Schmidt put his bags in the trunk of his car next to Lieutenant Connor's and closed the trunk lid with a thunk. Dave and Rosa hugged their son, perhaps a bit tighter than normal, and Lieutenant Connor shook hands with both.

Dave looked into his son's eyes as they stood by the driver's side of the car. "Be careful, Bruce. Call to let us know you got back on base safely, OK? This weather could open up on us anytime."

Captain Schmidt smiled. "No worries, Dad. Chuck and I won't be much use to the Air Force if we're stuck in a ditch halfway back to base, would we?" He glanced back at Lieutenant Connor and then spoke to his folks, in a quiet tone of voice. "Look, if things get worse, or I hear anything else, I'll let you know. It's not strict OPSEC, but you're retired Air Force, you know the drill. I doubt you're going to call Moscow or Beijing with any details."

Dave smiled and said, "Nyet, comrade, I'd never do that." The bad Russian accent caused everyone to laugh. "Look, Bruce, whatever happens, if anything does happen, we're both proud of you, Rosa and I. Your grandfather would be, too." Dave's father had been career Army, serving in WWII and Korea and rising to the rank of lieutenant general before retiring in 1970.

A gleam of an idea came into the Captain's eyes. He spoke: "Lariat Advance."

Dave smiled. "I'd forgotten all about that." Turning to Rosa, he explained, "That was the phrase for a unit alert when my Dad was stationed in West Germany. They had two hours to be ready to move out and assume their wartime fighting positions. Dad said they rarely left the base, though. When Dad wanted us up early and quick, he'd stand in the hallway and yell "Lariat Advance!" He thought it hilarious, although I suspect we were less than amused at 3 AM."

Captain Schmidt put his hand on his dad's shoulder. "Look, if it's about to hit the fan, I'll try to give you a call or text you with 'Lariat Advance.' If you hear that from me, directly or indirectly, you and Mom dive for The Hole. Chuck and I will be okay." He shook his dad's hand, kissed his mom on the cheek, got into the car and drove down the driveway, heading towards the base many miles away.

Dave stood with his arm around Rosa's shoulders, both of them waving until Bruce's car was well out of sight. As they turned towards the front door, Dave – a bit too casually – said, "Well, I think I'll spend the morning checking out The Hole. I haven't been down there for a while. Then, if we don't hear from Bruce right away, and nothing comes up on the news, I'll make a Sam's Club run to Cheyenne."

Rosa stopped and looked at Dave, her hand on his arm. "Don't go all the way to Cheyenne. If anything happens while you're there, you'll never make it back here. Besides," she smiled slightly, "you've always got The Hole ready. What else could you need for it?" Dave laughed and said "You're probably right. But I'll give it a once over anyway, and if we're short on something, I'll head into Laramie for it. A regular grocery run probably wouldn't hurt anyway." They headed into the house together.

[brucearmstrong65]

Lariat Advance – Chapter 3

Later that same day

Dave ended up spending most of the morning watching the talking heads on Fox and CNN, learning nothing whatsoever about the impending crisis. He'd just put his empty coffee mug into the kitchen sink when the phone rang. Both Dave and Rosa jumped at the sound. Luckily, it was only Bruce reporting that they had gotten back to Warren safely and that there were no new developments.

Dave hung up the phone and smiled at Rosa. "Guess we're going to be a mite jumpy every time the phone rings for a while, my dear." He gave her a tight hug and then stepped back. "Well, I'm going down to The Hole and check things out."

The Hole, as the family and the very few other people who knew about it called it, was the basement of the Schmidt's home, and a cave beyond, which Dave’s father had designed to serve as a well-prepared, well-stocked bomb shelter.

The Schmidt home was built into the side of a big hill or a small mountain, depending on how you looked at it. The basement had no outside windows and double-thick walls on the side facing out into the open. A second room, accessible through a concealed blast door in the basement, extended into the mountain and provided additional storage and, if needed, protection. Its nickname mirrored that of SAC’s original underground command bunker at Offutt AFB in Omaha, where Dave had spent a tour of staff duty.

Dave’s father, Stanley Schmidt, had bought the property in 1967, while a brigadier general. He had just been assigned to Fort Carson, Colorado, as an assistant division commander, taking over the top slot two years later. With informal assistance from friends in the Army Corps of Engineers and a couple of Air Force contacts, Stanley Schmidt had designed the house and its accompanying bunker, and supervised the construction. It was finished the following year and became the Schmidt family’s full-time home, the General staying on base during the week and re-joining his family on weekends and during his annual 30-day leave.

Dave opened the hallway door to the basement, flipped on a light switch, and headed down the stairs, which took a 90-degree turn to the left halfway down. At the base of the stairs, and another 90-degree turn, this one to the right, was a blast door. Dave worked the mechanism, opened the blast door and locked it open, and stepped through.

Lights came on automatically from a battery system kept charged by regular electric power. They illuminating a large hallway with shelves on all the walls, floor to ceiling, holding all manner of supplies and equipment – neatly organized and labeled for easy access in an emergency. Dave reached behind one large metal shelving unit, about 6 feet to the left from the first blast door, flipped a lever that made an audible clunk, and swung the cabinet away from the wall. A second blast door was revealed. As with the first door, Dave worked the mechanism, opened the blast door and locked it open, and entered the actual shelter.

As with the hallway / storage area, the lights came on inside the shelter when the second blast door was opened. Dave picked up a red binder with several laminated pages from a shelf just over the light switch, and began running through a series of checklists. This took up most of the next hour. The generator was run for a few minutes, as was the air filtration system. The fuel supplies were inspected, as were the water, first aid, and other supplies.

Dave's last stop in the shelter was the gun cabinet – a heavily-built old safe that had belonged to Dave's father. It was large enough that it, along with some of the other equipment, had to be put in place before the shelter was finished; there was no way they could have gotten it down the stairs, loaded or unloaded. He worked the combination lock and opened the door.

A wide variety of pistols and long arms were on the right side of the safe. A large supply of ammunition took up the left side of the safe. There were shotguns and hunting rifles (all the Schmidt men were hunters of a sort), a couple of weapons Dave's dad had acquired while in the army, several pistols, and a couple sets of old-school "web gear." Dave's father had never been much into reloading but Dave had gotten that bug, and had some reloading equipment next to the safe.

Dave removed two .45-caliber 1911's from the safe and placed them on the reloading table, along with a musette bag full of loaded clips and two pistol belts with holsters. After securing the safe, Dave picked up the gear and, retracing his steps, secured the shelter. Finally, after a couple hours, Dave made it back up the stairs into the kitchen where Rosa was fixing lunch.

Rosa's eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of the pistols and ammunition. She wasn't afraid of guns by any means; in fact, she was a near-competition level shot with the .45. Still, seeing pistols and ammo on your kitchen table would tend to get anyone's attention. She looked inquiringly at Dave.

"Everything's ready down below. I'd like to get some more ammo and reloading stuff, and it wouldn't hurt to top off our food and first aid supplies, but we'd do just fine if we had to go down below right now. I wanted to have the pistols on hand where we could get at them, if things go to hell in a handbasket. They won't do us much good in the safe if we're in trouble up here."

Rosa picked up one of the pistols, ejected the “storage” magazine, and worked the mechanism to make sure it was unloaded. Picking up a loaded magazine from the musette bag, she inserted it with a tap, worked the mechanism, and made sure the safety was on. She placed the pistol in the holster, inserted extra magazines into the belt pouches, and placed the web belt around her. Dave came around behind her to help adjust the belt. At least, that was his excuse to get his arms around her.

A few hours later

Dave pulled his old Ford pickup right in front of their front door and stopped. He and Rosa got out and looked at the pile of stuff in the back of the pickup, secured under a heavy cover with a couple of ratchet belts. Smiling, she said, "We spent a lot of money for not really needing anything, Dave."

Dave laughed and agreed with her. "One way or another, we'll use it all. If the stuff hits the fan, there won't be any grocery runs for a while." Both began unloading the truck, with a few of the items going on the kitchen table to be put away later, and the rest of the items being taken down to the basement or The Hole.

[brucearmstrong65]

Lariat Advance – Chapter 4

Weekend – November 24th & 25th

The weekend passed quietly. There was no indication on the cable news channels of any kind of international crisis which had the most remote chance of going nuclear and involving the United States and Russia or China or whoever. Dave and Rosa stayed pretty close to home, only leaving to go to church on Sunday and lunch afterwards with several of their church friends. They were back home by 2 PM. One message on the phone was from Bruce, but it was just a quick one, letting them know that he and Chuck were pulling duty at Alpha-1 the next day. No mention of a change in alert status or DEFCON or anything.

Dave spent part of the afternoon checking around online about anything that could be moving the clock closer toward midnight. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doomsday_Clock) The mainstream news sites had nothing, and neither did the prep-oriented forums. A couple of private forums that were set up for retired Air Force officers confirmed what Dave already knew - DEFCON 3 / Round House was in effect worldwide, increased readiness for all nuclear-oriented personnel above & beyond the DEFCON change.

One bit of information that was concerning was that NORAD had fully reactivated their Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Due to the expense in keeping the CMC running and up-to-date, the Air Force had moved its functions to a less-protected facility at nearby Peterson Air Force Base some years before, but kept the CMC in a warm status under a skeleton crew. In 2015, NORAD / NORTHCOM had let a contract to upgrade communications facilities in the CMC due to its natural resistance against EMP, which the Air Force was upgrading.

Obviously, neither NORAD nor the Air Force were publicly announcing the reactivation, but the retiree forums Dave checked on said the change to "hot" status at CMC was a rush job, and that the order had been given late Thursday or early Friday – about the same time Bruce & Chuck got their recall orders.

One more piece in the puzzle that Dave thought might add up to a very bad picture indeed.

Dave and Rosa finished up what Dave devoutly hoped would be the end of the Thanksgiving leftovers for Sunday night dinner while watching the Broncos & Chargers game on ESPN when Dave's cell phone buzzed. There was a text message from Bruce:

FAST PACE. GODSPEED. 

Dave felt as if his blood had turned to ice water. Fast Pace was the code name for DEFCON 2, which was one step away from nuclear war. DEFCON 1, code name Cocked Pistol, meant nuclear war was imminent or underway.

His mind was a whirl of thoughts as he tried to figure out what to say to Rosa.

"It's happening, isn't it?" Rosa's voice – calm yet tense - brought him back to reality.

"I'm sorry, Rosa, what'd you say?" Dave heard her speak but honestly had no idea what she had said.

"I said, it's happening, isn't it? I'm guessing that text message was from Bruce and we're either at war or about to be. Am I right?"

No sense in trying to BS her now, Dave realized. "I think so. The message read FAST PACE. GODSPEED. Fast Pace is the code name for DEFCON 2, one step shy of nuclear war. If we hear COCKED PISTOL, it means that the missiles are flying, or are just about to."

Dave and Rosa were silent, lost in their own thoughts, as they stood up and took their dinner dishes into the kitchen, rinsed them, and put them in the dishwasher. Rosa started the cycle and turned to Dave. "Guess this means we ought to spent the night down in The Hole?"

Dave nodded mutely, then said "Better grab our bug-out bags, and anything we want from the house before we head down."

As they headed upstairs to get clothing, family photos and papers and the like, Dave asked Rosa, "Do you think I ought to call Tom and Sarah, try to give them a heads' up?" Tom was Dave's brother and Sarah his wife. They'd been married almost as long as Dave and Rosa.

Rosa chewed at her lip for a moment and shook her head slowly. "You can if you want to but I don't see much point in it. Tom and Sarah never have been into prepping, certainly not like we have been. Most likely, Tom would laugh in your face and slam the phone down, and probably block our number to boot. Maybe I'll give Sarah a call tomorrow morning, if things hold off."

Dave started to speak but Rosa just shook her head. Tom was the most stubborn man either one of them knew, and he thought prepping was a bunch of nonsense. Given that they lived less than a quarter-hour drive from the main gate at Edwards AFB in California, their ticket was probably punched, whether they prepped or not.

Dave and Rosa took their bundles down to The Hole. Dave came back up for the bugout bags in the hall closet as well as from their vehicles, closing the house up before going downstairs. I just hope I'll be coming back up here tomorrow morning, he thought, as he closed the blast door in the basement.

[pbbrown0]

Dear brucearmstrong65,

Thank you for your postings. I caught the first segment when it was the only one and read straight through the rest. You had me on the first segment. You clearly have talent as a story teller. There was a typo in the last segment "however bad, nad brightened up both Dave and Rosa."

As for suggestions, you are doing great. Of course, as a good writer you are already second guessing what you wrote in various places. If I could suggest; use this forum as a sounding board and keep asking for specific feedback as well as general feed back. For example, if there is a part you wrote that you are uncertain about how it came across, ask about that, and you will get honest responses.

Keep up the good work.

[brucearmstrong65]

Lariat Advance – Chapter 5

Sunday evening / Monday morning, November 25th/26th

The night passed and the morning came without incident. Dave and Rosa slept in The Hole; to be more precise, they tossed and turned all night, neither one getting into a sound sleep. They kept a small TV going all night, with the sound off, so that if war broke out, they'd get at least a few minutes' notice. Dave had his NOAA emergency radio on and sitting by his bedside as well as his cell phone and landline, though the cell's reception was near non-existent in The Hole. Of course, as Dave had said more than once in the past, if the worst comes, I doubt cell coverage will be one of our major concerns!

Finally, a bit before 5:30 AM, both Dave and Rosa gave up the battle for sleep and got up. Dave quickly dressed and went upstairs to check his cellphone with the better reception topside and saw no messages from Bruce. He turned on the big TV in the living room, setting it to split screen between Fox and CNN, with Fox's audio up, and went into the kitchen to get coffee going. Meanwhile, Rosa made the bed in The Hole, straightened things up, and went upstairs to shower and dress properly.

By the time Rosa came into the kitchen, as ready to face whatever the day brought them as she could be, the coffee was finished brewing and the king-size cheese omelette he was fixing for their breakfast was nearly done as well.

"My, I am being spoiled today! Did you do something you need to apologize for, young man?" said Rosa as she poured her coffee and refilled Dave's cup.

"I'm completely innocent, my dear! That's my story and I'm stickin' to it!" Dave replied. The humor, however bad, had brightened up both Dave and Rosa. As Dave split and turned the omelette one last time, Rosa took the toast, which had just popped up, buttered it and put it on the side of the two plates Dave had on the counter. Right after that, Dave slid one omelette half on each plate and sat them on the kitchen counter, where he had set two place setting previously. Rosa brought both their coffee cups over, refilled, and they sat down to eat.

For the next half hour, they studiously avoided any mention of missiles and alerts and DEFCON levels and the like. They were as prepared as they could be; fretting would do neither of them any good. Instead, they talked about their plans for the day. Dave wanted to clean and service the weapons they kept upstairs – the two .45 1911s they were now wearing everywhere they went on their property, and the pair of identical 12-gauge shotguns they kept in the house itself (one in the hall closet, one in the master bedroom closet) - both locked, loaded, and out of reach of children yet easily accessible to those who knew where they were. And that was a damned small number of people.

Rosa was going to do her normal housekeeping, which on Mondays focused on the kitchen, living room and downstairs bathroom. She worked upstairs on Tuesday mornings, and with their recent visitors, that would be more work than usual. Assuming nothing happened to interrupt.

Dave suggested another trip to the Walmart in Laramie once their morning chores were done. "We'll pick up more of everything we've already got. There's plenty of storage space left in The Hole, and if need be, we can stack some of the stuff on and under the extra beds. And if nothing happens, we'll be able to avoid grocery shopping for the foreseeable future!" Rosa, who never liked grocery shopping that much to begin with, heartily endorsed that idea.

The weather was clear, beautiful and cold as they climbed into Dave's pickup truck just before noon. Their 1911's & belts were secured in a lockbox behind Dave's seat. Wyoming is one of the gun-friendliest states in the nation, but there was no sense in drawing undue attention to oneself. Dave activated the gate remote, drove through and hit the button again, pausing to ensure the gate closed properly, then headed towards WY-130 and Laramie.

After a couple hours at the Walmart and a very late lunch at the Corona Village restaurant nearby, Dave and Rosa retraced their route on the I-80 to State Route 130 and back home to Centennial. It took an hour to unload everything out of the somewhat overpacked truck and get it down to the basement and into The Hole, which themselves were beginning to resemble a Walmart Supercenter. Dave secured his ammo purchases in the gun safe, turned everything off, and headed back up to the house.

Neither Dave nor Rosa were ready for dinner, due to their late lunch, so Dave put on some music, started a fire in the living room fireplace, and they snuggled on the couch – at first reading, and then just snuggling.

All was quiet, Dave thought, drowsily. How long will it last?

[brucearmstrong65]

Lariat Advance – Chapter 6

Alpha-1 Launch Control Center – Tuesday, November 27th – 0430 hours

An alarm sounds. The letters E A M blink repeatedly on a screen. From the loudspeaker blares a tinny recorded voice:

KLAXON – KLAXON - KLAXON 

Message follows: Sierra – Tango - Niner - Quebec - Bravo - Zulu. 

The recorded message repeated itself three times.

Captain Bruce Schmidt pressed a button on his console to acknowledge receipt of the message. He and Lieutenant Chuck Connor flipped open a thick three-ring binder to the page bearing today's designator in the upper right-hand corner. Captain Schmidt spoke: "Make sure it's Tango-Zulu, Lieutenant." Lieutenant Connor said "Got it, sir, Tango-Zulu," while running his finger down the page, looking for the correct code sequence.

Schmidt and Connor found the code group at nearly the same time. Schmidt spoke first: "Sierra – Tango - Niner - Quebec - Bravo - Zulu. I have a valid message for a Crowd Pleaser launch. Do you confirm, Lieutenant?" Connor's voice briefly cracked then steadied: "I confirm a valid message for a Crowd Pleaser launch." (Crowd Pleaser is the code name for launching all ten missiles assigned to a Launch Control Center.)

Captain Schmidt rose and unlocked one of two combination locks on a bright red metal box, about the size of an ammunition can, mounted to the right of his station. Lieutenant Connor was unlocking the other lock. Neither man knew the other’s four-digit code; only the two men, working together, could unlock the box. Once unlocked, both men removed the padlocks and in unison swung open the small door. Inside lay two keys on chains and two small envelopes. Captain Schmidt took the envelope and key on the left side of the box, Lieutenant Connor taking the remaining pair.

As they resumed their seats, both the loudspeaker and the teletype printer burst into life. The loudspeaker repeated a message four times: "You have received a valid launch order from National Command Authority." The two men sped through the Launch Checklist, flipping switches, entering codes, inserting their keys, and the like, speaking only to announce or confirm an action.

Finally, Captain Schmidt spoke the words he never thought would be necessary: "Key turn on my mark. Five, four, three, two, one. Rotate and hold. All message transmitting indicator lights on." A pause of a few seconds that seemed like days. "All message transmitting indicator lights off. Release key. Launch Command caution lights on, one through ten. Launch in Process indicators on, one through ten. Launch Command indicators off. Launch Indications, one through ten."

Both men sat back in their chairs and let out big sighs. Lieutenant Connor spoke first. "Um, don't forget to let the Colonel know, sir."

Captain Schmidt smiled thinly and said "Thanks, Lieutenant. Better belt up now. We don't know when the incoming will hit." The Lieutenant nodded and locked his five-point harness in place. Not much point unless the enemy's aim is bad, the Lieutenant thought. We're 100 feet underground, and even the smallest Russian or Chinese warhead will dig out at least a 200-foot deep crater.

Captain Schmidt locked his harness in place and fished his cell phone out of his jumpsuit pocket. He sent a pre-written text to his father, got the sent confirmation, and then dialed his folks' home number.

[brucearmstrong65]

Lariat Advance – Chapter 7

The Schmidt residence, Centennial, WY, 0439 hours


The cell phone buzzed and woke Dave out of a none-too-sound sleep. He and Rosa had decided to sleep in their regular bedroom the previous night, gambling that they'd get some notice either from Bruce or from the NOAA Weather Radio also on the bedside table.

Dave turned on the light and flipped the phone open. One message was in the inbox. From Bruce. He opened it:

LARIAT ADVANCE. IMMEDIATE. COCKED PISTOL. I LOVE YOU & MOM FOREVER. 

It took Dave a good ten seconds to comprehend the message. That was enough time for Rosa to wake up and the landline to ring. Dave dropped the cell phone on the bed and snatched up the landline.

"Hello? Bruce?"

"It's me, Dad. Not much time and OPSEC is for shit now. We just got a valid EAM and launched everything, one through ten."

Dave was stunned. "Crowd Pleaser, eh? Well, shit. I’ll get things moving here while you talk to your mom. Hang on a sec."

Dave grabbed Rosa's shoulder with his free hand and shook her roughly. She glanced at his pale, strained expression and went white herself. "This is it. Bruce is on the phone. Talk to him."

Rosa's hand shook as she took the receiver from Dave, who jumped up and started pressing buttons on the security/alarm panel in their bedroom. She spoke: "Bruce? What is it?"

"DEFCON 1, mom. We just carried out our launch orders. You've got anywhere from 10 to 30 minutes to get into The Hole. I love you and Dad more than you'll know." The line suddenly went staticky and disconnected.

Rosa stared at the now-dead handset for a good ten seconds before Dave jolted her back into reality. "We've got to move now, Rosa. Right NOW. Grab some clothes and get down into The Hole. You know how to work the doors. I'll be there shortly. ... I love you!"

Rosa had been preparing herself for this message. She pulled on a pair of jeans, a blouse and an old pair of boots. Grabbing the flashlight from her nightstand drawer, she went down to the basement and opened both blast doors, grabbed a pair of large empty coolers from one of the storage shelves, and headed to the kitchen. She grabbed as many perishables as they could use from the refrigerator until the coolers were full. Dry goods went into a first, and then a second, black garbage bag from under the sink.

Dave came into the kitchen, moving quickly but without panic. "Here, Rosa, take these clothes and the shotgun down to the Hole and STAY THERE. I'll be down in just a minute.” He paused for a second. “I’m going to call Jerry and Patience, make sure they know to take cover. I’ll be down shortly, ok?”

Dave speed-dialed the Garners’ number and waited. A sleepy voice answered. “Garner residence, Jerry speaking, and do you know what time it is?”

“Sorry Jerry, it’s Dave. Bruce just called us; they got orders to launch their missiles. We’re at war.”

“Well, hell. I’ll get Patience down below. Good luck, my friend.”

“You too, Jerry. I’ll check in with you on the CB when we start getting fallout. Channel 27. Godspeed.”

Dave hung up the phone and began moving the coolers and garbage bags into the hallway next to the top of the stairs. He retrieved the shotgun from the front hall closet (the only other gun he normally kept outside the gun safe), picked up one of the trash bags, and carried them to the hallway between the basement and the shelter. Two more trips brought down the rest of the food.

Dave secured the basement door and the first blast door. He moved the two coolers just inside the main shelter door, and closed the second blast door behind him.

Just like marriage, Dave thought, as he locked down the second blast door. We're here for better or worse, till death do us part. For the duration.

[brucearmstrong65]

I deleted the incomplete portion of Chapter 5 and just posted Chapters 5, 6 and 7. Chapters 6 and 7 were originally one chapter but seemed a bit long-winded so I split them into two chapters, as you can see. Please enjoy and thanks for letting me post.

[pbbrown0]

Thank you for your hard work, Bruce. Very skillful writing. You captured the intensity with just the right amount of details to make it real without taking away from the sense of how the actual events were racing ahead almost too fast for the people involved to think about them. Your characters come across as thinking people without your having to dwell on their every thought. I know this takes a lot more work than simply writing down the story as it comes to you. You have a talent for this, Bruce. Thank you for sharing it with us.

[mnn2300]

Excellent story so far. I'm (impatiently) waiting for more.Your writing style is very good.

[brucearmstrong65]

Lariat Advance – Chapter 8

The Hole – Tuesday, November 27th – 0459 Hours

Dave and Rosa sat together on a small loveseat in the shelter, between the radio desk and the kitchen area. Both were trembling as if being hit with small, random electrical shocks. Rosa raised her head from Dave's shoulder and looked into his eyes. "What happened? Why are we nuking someone? Russia? China?..." Her voice trailed off.

Dave shook his head. "I don't know, my love. But somebody anticipated something. The tougher readiness drills and inspections, the increased alert status, the extra supplies..." He sighed and stood up, stretching. "I suspect we'll never know exactly what happened, unless the president or his successor makes a broadcast over the EAS. Even then, we'll only know what they want us to know... Dammit!"

"What, Dave?"

"I left the NOAA radio in our bedroom. You didn't happen to grab it, did you?"

"Nope, I thought you had it with you."

"We've still got a few minutes, maybe more. I'm going to go up and get the radio, double-check the medicine cabinet and the security shutters. I'll be back here in five minutes, tops. But I'm going to close both blast doors, just in case. You better lay down in case they lay an egg close."

"I want to come with you. If it hits in the next five minutes, at least we'll be together."

Dave immediately sensed that arguing would be futile and would only waste time. "Cmon, then, let's get 'er done and get back down here. No sense in having a shelter and us not in it when the stuff hits the fan."

Dave and Rosa went through the blast doors and took the basement stairs at a dead run, or at least as much of a run as you could while half-asleep and in near-shock at impending doom.

Just as I thought, Dave grumped to himself when he shot through the bedroom door, I left the damned thing right on the nightstand; better grab my spare glasses as well. He shoved the glasses in his shirt pocket and grabbed the radio, unplugging it from the wall. He started to turn towards the master bathroom, but hesitated and picked up both his and Rosa's Bibles. Just as he stepped into the master bathroom, a loud squealing sound came out of the NOAA radio, followed by a computer-generated message.

"This is an Emergency Action Notification. All broadcast stations and cable systems shall transmit this Emergency Action Notification message. This station has interrupted its regular programming at the request of the White House to participate in the Emergency Alert System. During this emergency, most stations will remain on the air providing news and information to the public in assigned areas."

Dave found the medicine cabinet empty – I knew Rosa would take care of that - and ran downstairs to find Rosa and get her into The Hole. He had hoped against hope that this was a bad dream - which, in a sense, it was. The NOAA radio continued.

"This is WXM37, National Weather Service radio for Albany County, Wyoming, broadcasting on an assigned frequency of 162.550 megahertz. We will continue to serve the Cheyenne and Albany County area. If you are not in this local area, you should tune to stations providing news and information for your local area. You are listening to the Emergency Alert System serving the Cheyenne and Albany County area.

"Do not use your telephone. The telephone lines should be kept open for emergency use. Seek shelter immediately. Stand by for a message for the President of the United States." The automated message began to repeat itself.

Dave met Rosa at the top of the basement stairs. She had stuffed a couple of recycled grocery bags full of still more kitchen items and managed a small smile at the surprised look on Dave's face. "Better safe than sorry, you know. I don't think Walmart will be open for ..." Her voice cracked for just a moment. "For a while, anyway."

Dave took one of the grocery bags, secured the basement door behind him, and followed Rosa down the stairs. They stepped through the first blast door, secured it, and stepped through the second blast door into The Hole. Just as Dave closed and secured the door, a loud booming sound struck their ears, and the lights went out.

[kaijafon]

wow that was CLOSE!!!! thanks

[9idrr]

I'm hooked.

[goingnowhere]

Really enjoy the story. Don't keep us in suspense too long. Thanks for your time and efforts

[brucearmstrong65]

Lariat Advance – Chapter 9

The Hole – Tuesday, November 27th – 0506 Hours

The booming noise echoed in The Hole as Dave and Rosa stood paralyzed by fear and shock, as well as the sudden darkness. The automatic transfer switch started the generator and isolated it from the outside utility should commercial power come back on. Dave and Rosa dropped their armloads of stuff on the loveseat and hugged each other more tightly than ever before, grasping perhaps for the safety and security that had been ripped away.

A couple of more booms sounded, neither as loud as the first, but still noticeable. After the last boom faded away, Dave leaned back and looked in Rosa's eyes.

"We're okay, hon. We're alive and we're together." Rosa smiled thinly and said, "I guess we'll see how okay we are in a few weeks. Do you think Bruce and Chuck..." The question hung in the air.

Dave sighed. "They're in a better shelter than we've got, and my dad built a pretty damn good shelter here. They're a hundred feet underground in a specially designed capsule resting on giant shock absorbers. They’ve got a good chance, hon."

He put what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder. "If they took a direct hit, they never knew what hit them. You know Bruce believed as we do. He's either in a better place now where we'll join him in the future, or he and Chuck are doing the same thing we're going to be doing for at least two weeks: waiting."

Rosa wiped a tear away and took a deep breath. "So what should we be doing now?"

"I'm going to wait another five minutes and then take a quick look around upstairs, see if we've got a fire problem and check for any damage. After that, I’ll hook up the remote portion of the survey meter to a cable already in place, so we can track fallout. If there’s time, I’ll grab up anything we forgot and get back down here, settle down for a while, listen to the radio and see what’s what.”

Rosa stepped toward the inner blast door. "I'm coming with you. I'll help you with the inside stuff, and I can watch your back while you check outside and hook up that meter."

Dave saw the steeliness in her eyes and knew he'd lost the battle already, but he tried anyway. "I'd really prefer if you stayed down here, hon. I don't think anything will happen to me, but if it does, I want you safe and secure down here, alive and waiting for Bruce and Chuck if they make it."

Rosa spoke quickly. "Whither thou goest, I will go, so let's get moving." Dave smiled, kissed her on the lips, and said, "Dosimeters for two, then. Any color, as long as you like yellow."

A few minutes later

Dressed in matching jumpsuits, each with a pen-like dosimeter clipped to a breast pocket flap and an eyepatch over their left eye, Dave cautiously opened the door at the top of the basement stairs. A bag slung over his left arm contained the survey meter main housing and a small tool kit. Each had their M1911 .45 pistol and web belt on, not expecting any trouble – at least not yet - but just in case.

Dave stepped into the hallway and did a complete 360-degree inspection before he waved Rosa up the stairs. "Looks all clear to me, hon, at least right here. All the shutters are closed, as before, and I don't see any broken glass or inside damage. Let's check outside and I'll get the remote section hooked up, then we can check for fire."

The clicking noise behind him told Dave that Rosa had drawn her pistol and chambered a round. Dave did the same and reholstered his pistol, with the holster flap loose. He unlocked the deadbolt and, taking an audibly deep breath, opened the front door. Not seeing any obvious damage or signs of life, he unlocked the security screen door and stepped out onto the front porch. To the distant east, towards Warren, the sky should have been growing lighter, but it looked dark.

Changing his plan slightly, he walked out to the driveway and turned to inspect the house. "No fire, no blast damage, and nobody around. I think we're clear for the moment." Dave walked to the edge of the porch, knelt down next to a planter and opened a small panel, revealing a loose cable. He plugged the survey meter cable into the exposed cable, tightly fitting the two together. Moving slowly, feeding the meter cable out a few inches at a time, Dave walked backwards to a walkway light about 15 feet from the porch, and placed the remote unit at the base of the pole, fastening it to the light pole with a Velcro strap.

Rosa watched from the side of the porch, kneeling down by (and partially obscured by) a planter, her .45 in hand but not visible to anyone who might be planning trouble. She was looking past Dave for any sign of movement on the street or in the adjoining area. She didn't rise until Dave walked back up to the porch and said, "Let's go in." She checked six, as Dave would say, until they were back inside and the door bolted.

Checking the safety was engaged, Rosa replaced the pistol in her holster and asked Dave, "What now?" He replied, "Let's check the inside more closely. Why don't you take down here and I'll check upstairs."

Taking off her eyepatch, as they were inside with the shutters closed tight, Rosa walked through the kitchen, living room, laundry room, and spare bedrooms. She also checked the garage. Along the way she picked up several additional items to take down into The Hole or the basement.

The stack of stuff was half as high as Rosa by the time Dave came downstairs, carrying a large makeshift bundle over his shoulder, fashioned from a king-side quilt Rosa's mother had made many years ago. Dave and Rosa burst out laughing at the sight of the other.

Dave spoke first, still chuckling. "Guess we didn't get as much of the stuff before as we thought. Let's get this downstairs. I want to hook up the survey meter cable to the readout unit down below and make sure everything is copacetic before we lock up for the long haul."

Dave went down first, shouldering his bundle, and sitting it on the last of the vacant bunks, the others being filled to overflowing with supplies from the last trip to the Laramie Walmart. Rosa followed, requiring three trips to transport her finds. She stacked her items in a vacant corner of the basement adjacent to the inner blast door. They could be properly put away later.

As she stepped through the inner blast door, she saw Dave sitting at the small desk in one corner, hooking up the top portion of the survey meter to the cable that snaked its way down from the outside. Dave zeroed the meter and turned the knob to the right, turning the meter on. "It's working, Rosa. Zero reading so far. Let's check the dosimeters." She unclipped her yellow pen and handed it to Dave, who had already unclipped his own and held it up to the light, looking through it. He checked her dosimeter before speaking. "All clear. We're showing nothing. I'm going to double-check the basement door and outer blast door and then I want to get the power going down here."

Dave gave Rosa a gentle caress as he went by, earning him a softly spoken "Men" from Rosa, and walked up the basement stairs to the door. The knob was locked and the deadbolt was in place. Picking up a couple of two-by-fours kept there for this purpose, Dave placed one in a set of brackets halfway between the doorknob and the top of the door, and the other in an identical set of brackets halfway between the doorknob and the floor.

Dave was about halfway down the stairs when he heard the doorbell ring.

[brucearmstrong65]

Thanks for the helpful comments and suggestions. I have to admit the doorbell thing came out of left field. No idea who'll be ringing. That's the fun of writing these chapter by chapter.

One question for you all: I felt like a got a bit over-detailed / pedantic in the descriptions of what Dave and Rosa were doing in this chapter. Comments?
Thanks in advance.

[mnn2300]

Jun 13, 2016 17:10:57 GMT -6 brucearmstrong65 said:

One question for you all: I felt like a got a bit over-detailed / pedantic in the descriptions of what Dave and Rosa were doing in this chapter. Comments?

I don't think so, it appears to be showing their mindset and tells what they are doing. I generally try to make each chapter advance the story line and this one seems to do just that.

Good job, keep it up.

[9idrr]

I like the detailed descriptions and human interactions. I have absolutely no idea how I'd act in such a situation, so your story might be how must of us would react. I can't think of many times that I've remembered everything I've intended to get together in a crisis, so a reminder might help us all get more organized for future events.

[papaof2]

Dropped by on one of my infrequent visits and found myself hooked on this story. Very good.

You will finish the story by the end of next week?

I think you should expect more "I can't wait" responses. ;-)

[pbbrown0]

MOAR ! PLEASE.

This is really good. I agree completely with mnn2300 about level of detail. Just enough to make the reader think and not simply plow ahead. Speaking of making the reader think...Why was the sensor on the outside not already connected to the cable? Why plan for having to leave the shelter "after" the event in order to place a sensor that would provide readings on how safe or unsafe the environment might have become?

It would seem to me that it would be better to have it already in place with baseline readings already recorded.

[brucearmstrong65]

Lariat Advance – Chapter 10

Tuesday, November 27th – 0545 hours

At the totally unexpected sound of the doorbell, Dave froze in his tracks just for a split second, then took the remaining stairs two at a time and darted through the two blast doors into The Hole, startling Rosa, who was making some sense of all the items they brought down at the last minute.

Dave said, near breathlessly, "The doorbell just rang. I'm going up to take a look. I want you to cover the basement door from the first blast door. If you see anybody but me come through, fire two rounds, retreat and seal the first blast door behind you, then the second. Got it?"

Rosa nodded and whispered, "Vaya con Dios, mi amor."

Dave turned and headed up the stairs. Removing the two 2x4's securing the basement door, and drawing his .45, he cautiously opened the basement door and checked the hallway before walking into the living room. Moving carefully, he peered out the living room window, his pistol ready ahead of him. What he saw caused his jaw to drop nearly to the floor.

Standing on the front step were Tom and Sarah, Dave's brother and sister-in-law.

Mouth hanging open, Dave stepped back to the basement door, yelled to Rosa "All clear, Rosa, all clear! You can come on up, but you will NEVER believe who's here."

Rosa holstered her pistol as she came up the stairs. "Who is it, Dave? Amway? Avon?"

Dave smiled thinly. "Probably worse. It's Tom and Sarah."

Rosa's jaw did an imitation of Dave's jaw from a few moments before. "Your Tom and Sarah? From California? How in the heck..."

"No idea, hon. But there's one way to find out: Open the door and ask them."

Rosa put on a brave face and said quietly, "Out of the frying pan and into the fire, eh?" as she and Dave walked to the front door, unlocked the locks, and opened it.

Before Dave and Rosa could speak, a thoroughly shaken Tom and an even more hysterical Sarah practically leaped through the doorway, only to collapse in a pile in the entryway. Tom spoke first: "Thank God you're home! I thought we were done for!"

Dave took Tom's arm and helped him stand upright. "I was sure you were done for if you were still living near Edwards. But how did you wind up here?"

As he spoke, Rosa was kneeling down next to Sarah, comforting her and at the same time checking her over for injuries. She glanced up at Dave and Tom: "She's not hurt. Mostly scared to death, I think."

Tom relaxed ever so slightly as he spoke to Dave. "I heard from a couple buddies on active duty at Edwards that their alert level was going up, and that some of the people stationed their were evacuating their families from base & nearby housing. When we heard that on Monday morning, Sarah and I tossed a few things into the old Suburban and headed here. Drove straight through." Tom went silent.

"Where were you when the attack hit? You couldn't have been too far out."

Tom shook his head as if to clear it. "We weren't. I had just passed a turnoff for some lake off to our left when I dropped my Thermos cup of coffee on the floor. I pulled over and reached down to get it when the first bomb went off behind us, off to the east.. Sarah was asleep in the passenger seat so I pulled her down as far as I could with her seatbelt on. Damn near wet myself, I'll tell you.

“When the bombs stopped exploding – there were at least three, I think, that I was aware of – I sat up and tried to calm Sarah, who was hysterical and screaming. I’d like to have joined her. Anyway, once we got more or less settled down, I hauled ass in here. The GPS went wonky but I'd printed directions from Google Maps before we left. Your front gate was locked so we walked the rest of the way in.”

Dave shook his head in wonder – first, that they had actually taken action to protect themselves and seek shelter (even if it was his), and second, that they had survived driving through a nuclear attack. Like the old song goes, Dave thought, some guys have all the luck.

"I’ll get the gate open and you can park the Suburban in the garage. That way we can unload without too much worry about fallout, even if it starts in the next few minutes. don't you and Sarah go down to the shelter and we'll be down presently?"

As the wives headed downstairs, Sarah still sobbing and Rosa trying to settle her down, Dave and Tom went outside and headed toward the Suburban at a jog. Dave got the gate unlocked and open, Tom pulled the Suburban forward and waited while Tom re-locked the gate. They rode up to the garage and repeated the process at the gate, this time on the garage door. Dave secured both sides of the garage door and turned to the fully-loaded Suburban.

Overloaded would be a better word for it, Dave thought. Wonder what kind of junk my brother brought. Probably their big-screen TV and their treadmill.

Tom unlocked the back of the Suburban and opened it up. Dave simply stared, his jaw once again hanging open in astonishment.

What he saw was a load of supplies any experienced prepper would have been proud to own. He looked up at Tom who was standing off to one side. Every square inch of the Suburban was crammed with camping gear, suitcases, food and water, and much more. Not a single TV or treadmill in sight.

Smiling slightly, Tom spoke. "Surprised you, didn't I?"

Dave could only nod his head.

"This might be hard to believe, Dave, but I actually listened when you were talking about being ready for emergencies. Mind you, I thought you were crazy as a loon, but I listened and I remembered. ... Look, um, I'm sorry about the hard time I gave you about the readiness stuff. You were right. I'm glad I listened, even if it was almost too late." Tom offered his hand, and Dave gladly took it.

"Okay, plenty of time for old home week later on. Maybe several weeks. Why don't you start unloading this stuff and stacking it in the hallway by the basement door? I'll lock the front door, and then we can move everything downstairs."

[pbbrown0]

I am reminded of the parable about a father who asked his son to plow a field, and the son replied he would not do it. So the father asked his other son to plow the field, and this son replied he would do as his father asked. But the son who said he would plow the field did not do as his father asked. However, the son who had refused his father's request relented and plowed the field for his father.

I really wonder how many give only lip service to preparing for disaster(s)they claim they expect, and how many others say it will never be that bad, but prepare more than anyone suspects.

[ss1442]

Found this yestday. This last chapter suprised me just like Dave was suprised. You are doing a great job, but dang it I am caught up and have to wait with everyone else now.

[brucearmstrong65]

Nobody was more surprised by the last chapter than I was! I wanted to something different, and it seemed to me that most PAW stories (a) don't give the un-prepared a second chance, and (b) almost never have the un-prepared apologize.