ever since, the system would not lock onto the
orbiting satellite. He’d tried a dozen times, from an equal number of
different locations, with the same result on each attempt. A little wheel
would spin on the display while it flashed a message that the system was
attempting to make a connection, but that’s as far as it ever got.
He’d rebooted
the system. He’d climbed onto the roof of the Bradley and inspected the laser
system that transmitted the beam. He’d cleaned the lens. He’d even said a
prayer, not thinking about the irony of using every four-letter word in the
book as part of a plea to God. None of it helped.
“Still not
working?” Irina asked. She was seated in the back of the Bradley, sharing an
MRE with Igor.
“No,” Scott
said, frustration clear in his voice. “The goddamn thing won’t lock on, or
maybe it will lock on but the software won’t sync, or… who the fuck knows
what’s wrong with it.”
Irina
translated and Igor laughed before saying something in Russian.
“Igor says
you should try the Russian fix,” Irina translated.
“Yeah,
what’s that?” Scott turned to look at them.
“Drink some
Vodka and slap the side of the computer really hard.”
“Tell him if
he’s got some Vodka I’m happy to give it a try,” Scott replied with a snort.
Irina
translated and Igor smiled and shrugged.
“So what do
we do now?” She asked. “Tinker is abandoned. We don’t have comms with
anyone. Should we head back towards the canyons where we found Rachel?”
Scott sat
back and let out a long sigh. Forcing himself to be calm he reached out and
hit the button to reboot the FSOC system. Once it completed the restart he
initiated the sync process, willing the spinning wheel to go away and the
status to change from red to green. But it didn’t.
“That’s our
best option at this point,” he said. “But we can’t spend much time looking for
the Major. We need to head to Idaho. Rachel’s on the ground.”
“And where
in Idaho do we start looking?” Irina asked with her eyebrows raised. “I
believe it’s a fairly large state.”
Scott looked
at her but didn’t have a good answer. His frustration threatened to boil over
but he held back. There was no point in losing his temper with Irina. She was
right. Idaho was big. And it was a long ways away. Shutting down the comm
app he loaded the navigation system and started looking.
Idaho was
about 1,400 miles away from where they were sitting on the windswept Oklahoma
prairie. And the damn state was over 80,000 square miles. Clicking a couple
of icons he had the system generate a route to Idaho. Once it came up he had
the system calculate drive time.
A Bradley’s
top speed is 40 miles per hour. Maintaining that speed for 1,400 miles wasn’t
reasonable, so he calculated using a 30 miles per hour average. 44 hours
without fuel stops, but they’d have to stop five times to fill the big
vehicle’s tank. Best time would be 48 hours, but it would probably be longer
than that, depending on what they ran into along the way. Then, once they got
there, where the hell did they start looking?
“OK, so
going to Idaho may not be a smart move. Let’s get rolling and see if we can
find the Major.”
Scott
cleared the route to Idaho and set up a new path that would take them back to
the area where they had found Rachel and Joe. At least they had a starting
point to search for the Major.
Irina
finished up her meal and went back to the front of the vehicle where she
climbed into the driver’s station. Starting the engine she goosed the throttle
and put them on the route Scott had sent to her nav station.
10
“Why do I
only hear from you when you need something?” Steve asked with a petulant tone in
his voice.
Katie
suppressed the sigh that wanted to escape from her mouth. She knew better than
to let him hear that she was frustrated with him. It might
orbiting satellite. He’d tried a dozen times, from an equal number of
different locations, with the same result on each attempt. A little wheel
would spin on the display while it flashed a message that the system was
attempting to make a connection, but that’s as far as it ever got.
He’d rebooted
the system. He’d climbed onto the roof of the Bradley and inspected the laser
system that transmitted the beam. He’d cleaned the lens. He’d even said a
prayer, not thinking about the irony of using every four-letter word in the
book as part of a plea to God. None of it helped.
“Still not
working?” Irina asked. She was seated in the back of the Bradley, sharing an
MRE with Igor.
“No,” Scott
said, frustration clear in his voice. “The goddamn thing won’t lock on, or
maybe it will lock on but the software won’t sync, or… who the fuck knows
what’s wrong with it.”
Irina
translated and Igor laughed before saying something in Russian.
“Igor says
you should try the Russian fix,” Irina translated.
“Yeah,
what’s that?” Scott turned to look at them.
“Drink some
Vodka and slap the side of the computer really hard.”
“Tell him if
he’s got some Vodka I’m happy to give it a try,” Scott replied with a snort.
Irina
translated and Igor smiled and shrugged.
“So what do
we do now?” She asked. “Tinker is abandoned. We don’t have comms with
anyone. Should we head back towards the canyons where we found Rachel?”
Scott sat
back and let out a long sigh. Forcing himself to be calm he reached out and
hit the button to reboot the FSOC system. Once it completed the restart he
initiated the sync process, willing the spinning wheel to go away and the
status to change from red to green. But it didn’t.
“That’s our
best option at this point,” he said. “But we can’t spend much time looking for
the Major. We need to head to Idaho. Rachel’s on the ground.”
“And where
in Idaho do we start looking?” Irina asked with her eyebrows raised. “I
believe it’s a fairly large state.”
Scott looked
at her but didn’t have a good answer. His frustration threatened to boil over
but he held back. There was no point in losing his temper with Irina. She was
right. Idaho was big. And it was a long ways away. Shutting down the comm
app he loaded the navigation system and started looking.
Idaho was
about 1,400 miles away from where they were sitting on the windswept Oklahoma
prairie. And the damn state was over 80,000 square miles. Clicking a couple
of icons he had the system generate a route to Idaho. Once it came up he had
the system calculate drive time.
A Bradley’s
top speed is 40 miles per hour. Maintaining that speed for 1,400 miles wasn’t
reasonable, so he calculated using a 30 miles per hour average. 44 hours
without fuel stops, but they’d have to stop five times to fill the big
vehicle’s tank. Best time would be 48 hours, but it would probably be longer
than that, depending on what they ran into along the way. Then, once they got
there, where the hell did they start looking?
“OK, so
going to Idaho may not be a smart move. Let’s get rolling and see if we can
find the Major.”
Scott
cleared the route to Idaho and set up a new path that would take them back to
the area where they had found Rachel and Joe. At least they had a starting
point to search for the Major.
Irina
finished up her meal and went back to the front of the vehicle where she
climbed into the driver’s station. Starting the engine she goosed the throttle
and put them on the route Scott had sent to her nav station.
10
“Why do I
only hear from you when you need something?” Steve asked with a petulant tone in
his voice.
Katie
suppressed the sigh that wanted to escape from her mouth. She knew better than
to let him hear that she was frustrated with him. It might
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