Life Goes On | Book 4 | If Not Us [Surviving The Evacuation] Tayell, Frank (classic books to read .TXT) 📖

“The Herrera sisters?” Tess said. “It might be worth powering up a few databases, see what we can dig up.”

“How about visiting a bookshop, or a library?” Bianca said. “If their father was a powerful narco-baron, won’t the name appear in some of the more lurid crime-histories?”

“They could have assumed that name,” Toppley said. “But if they didn’t, would it—”

But she was interrupted by a shout.

“Commish! Ms Qwong!” Zach called as he sprinted down the corridor.

“What is it?” Tess asked.

“There’s been another bomb!” Zach said. “In Bass Strait. You know all those politicians who were supposed to be coming back from Hobart? Their planes were blown up. They’re all dead.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat woke Tess from her uncomfortable chair-based doze in a meeting room in Parliament House. She opened her eyes and saw Dr Leo Smilovitz.

The Canadian scientist held out a cup. “Coffee?” he said.

“You’re a lifesaver. What time is it?” she asked, taking a sip.

“Half nine,” Leo said, pulling out the chair next to her. “Parliament’s over. Ms Dodson and Mr Owen are just speaking with the state reps who made it here.”

“Did I miss any fireworks?” she asked.

“Thankfully, no,” Leo said. “After Mr Owen began his speech by announcing the death of the old politicians, the state reps responded with a unanimous vote of support for the new government. You’ve got ten new senators, and twenty MPs. There’s a new U.N., too, formed of the ambassadors who were stuck in Canberra. They endorsed Ms Dodson.”

“And O.O.?”

“And him,” Leo said. “He gave a good speech. Promised new elections as soon as possible. He said our focus, now we’ve lost all the planet’s shipping, should be to rebuild Australia, rebuild the fleets, and rescue those nearby.”

“Which is what people within range of the radio broadcast would need to hear,” Tess said. “Any more information from Tasmania?”

“A little,” Leo said.

The swing doors opened. Dan Blaze pushed Anna Dodson’s wheelchair through. Bruce Hawker, of the RSAS, followed behind. He’d found a dress-uniform somewhere, but not a pair of dress-shoes to replace his dusty battle-boots.

“G’day, Tess,” Anna said, “and what a day. Thank you, Dan. Can you wait outside?”

“A soldier with a guitar, another with a gun,” Leo said. “That makes for an interesting escort.”

“Both of whom were in shot for the press photographs,” Anna said. “I don’t know when anyone will see them, or how many will have seen the television broadcast. But, yes, imagery is important if for no other reason than gossip. But we must discuss Tasmania. Are there any more updates, Leo?”

“A nuclear warhead detonated either just before, or just as it was leaving, the silo aboard a Jin-class Chinese submarine,” Leo said. “The planes were affected by the EMP. Total losses are four 777s and three fighter-aircraft escorts.”

“And, of course, the politicians and their staff and families who were aboard,” Anna said. “How do you know any of this?”

“The shielding aboard one fighter jet functioned correctly,” Leo said. “They were able to land. That’s who brought us the initial report. A follow-up has been gathered from the surviving shipping. We lost twelve fishing boats, a freighter, and the HMAS…” He paused to check his notes. “The HMAS Brisbane.”

“She’s a Hobart-class destroyer,” Hawker said. “Brand-new. Barely out of the box.”

“It was caught in the detonation,” Leo said. “It picked up the sub, and it’s from them we know the type. But it also picked up a U.S. submarine which was also destroyed in the blast, and which we had no idea was down there. Just before the warhead was detonated, the U.S. sub launched a torpedo and sent a warning. Said they were the Guam, but before anything else they said could be relayed from the Brisbane to anyone out of range, the warhead was detonated. The Guam is, or was, a Virginia-class attack sub.”

“What damage was done on shore?” Anna asked.

“Minimal, according to the initial reports,” Leo said. “The wreckage, and the radiation, will impact fishing for six to nine months, minimum.”

“A U.S. boat was chasing a Chinese sub?” Tess asked. “But the bomb detonated at the surface? Was this a suicide mission?”

Leo shrugged. “I’m just reading a collated version of the radio reports,” he said. “I set up the listening post, but I’m not running it. Naval warfare was never my area. My knowledge is tangential, while these reports are still incomplete. As only one warhead detonated, the most statistically probable explanation is that the warhead malfunctioned. Less likely, but still plausible, is that it was their sole warhead left. They had no torpedoes, and they were determined to sink that U.S. submarine. Those suggestions were given by Admiral Shikubu.”

“Who’s that?” Tess asked.

“A Japanese admiral who was attached to their embassy,” Anna said. “He was a spy. Now he’s running military intelligence.”

“He was spying on us?” Tess asked.

“He described it as spying along a parallel stream to us, whatever that means,” Anna said. “Part of the fragile deal which gives Oswald, Canberra, parliament, us, final say in the day-to-day running of… well, of everything, is that we make this a global relief effort with a global command. There is a United Nations, and an international leadership. With most of our navy, most of our shipping, sunk, and our people dispersed or dead, we have little choice but to fill our top ranks with anyone who’s qualified.”

“I guess old flags don’t matter,” Tess said. “But the timing is coincidental, isn’t it? That this bomb goes off just as the planes containing most of parliament are flying overhead?”

“More than just coincidental,” Anna said. “But if this was a political mass murder, suspicion should fall on Oswald and myself. That’s why it’s imperative we avoid suspicion among our allies. Individually, they are a minority. Collectively, the number of refugees here