Chaldea Lost

The sunlight refracted off of the water bag and sent little sparkles dancing across the forest floor as Angela hung a camping shower from a maple tree. She was a few miles outside of Portland, Oregon. She glanced around to make sure she was alone, before stripping out of her army green tactical jacket, t-shirt, and shimmying out of her jeans.. She hung her clothing on a nearby branch along with the only jewelry she owned, a small heart shaped locket. It had been a gift from her grandmother on her 18th birthday. Crafted of sterling silver and set with an aquamarine in the center, it held a picture of her grandparents on their wedding day. Becoming the recipient of this prized family heirloom had made her the envy of her sisters. Angela figured Grandma had chosen her to have it because they shared the same birthday - March 21st, the Spring Equinox - and therefore the aquamarine was both of their birthstones.

She reached up and released the valve for 30 seconds to let the water flow over herself. She lathered her hair with shampoo and ran a bar of soap over her face and body, careful to conserve the water as she began to rinse off. She rubbed Moroccan oil into her hair, toweled off and quickly dressed. Taking a few moments to french braid her hair, she gathered up her belongings and headed back to her Jeep.

Angela threw her bag in the backseat but realized she had left the locket hanging in the tree. As she headed back into the woods, she heard a loud roaring explosion and a hot wave knocked her down and shook the trees around her. She looked back to see her Jeep on fire. Scrambling farther into the woods, she grabbed the necklace and ran uphill in hopes of finding cell service. Grandma must have been watching out for her from heaven.

She called the paper to speak with her editor, “I’ve been targeted, my Jeep’s gone, I need transport”.

“We’ll send someone. Hang tight. We’re tracking you. Don’t engage. The story isn’t worth it.”

About 20 minutes later a red four door pickup truck pulled up to the Jeep. A man got out. He must have stood a whole foot taller than Angela. He had a good 60 pounds on her but Angela was tough and toned and could stand her own in a fight if it came down to it.

“Are you Angela Statton?” his baritone voice cut the silence.

“Angie. But yeah. Are you from the paper?” she asked uneasily.

He nodded, “Yes, I’m Kalahan O'Brien. I’m your transport. Where’s your security?”

“We got separated in the Portland Riots and I’ve been going it alone ever since to get the story.”

“The whole country’s on fire,” he gesticulated vaguely, as if trying to point everywhere at once. “If there’s a story we’re right in the middle of it.” He got back in the truck and reached over to pop the lock on the passenger door, as if expecting her to get in.

After a moment’s hesitation, and a glance back at her own decimated Jeep, she did. “I know. Everything went sideways after Biden’s heart attack and half the country can’t stand to be run by a mixed race Asian African American woman.’

“So what’s your angle?” he asked, pulling back onto the dirt road.

“Don’t know yet. We’re still looking into Biden’s death. We haven’t ruled out poisoning by the Russians. We are also covering the fires and the riots.”

“Why did you sign up to be a field reporter? A pretty girl like you should be on TV behind a desk.”

“Thanks but I’m not into desk jobs. I’ll always be a field reporter.”

“You look Army,” he said, sizing her up with his eyes. “Did you ever spend any time in the service?”

“Reserves actually. It paid for Journalism school at the Cronkite school at Arizona State. I was only activated once for linguistics in Cuba. I speak Arabic fluently.”

“Interesting background. Are you Muslim?”

“No, my family is from Palestine but we’re Chaldean.”

“Cuba must have been interesting,” Kalahan said, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s not something I talk about.”

“Are you married? Kids?”

“No and no.”

“So why Journalism?”

“I love to write.” Angie shrugged, as if that should be the whole reason. “I think people deserve to know the truth. That’s why I work for a newspaper and not a TV station. So many of the shows on network TV want to produce the so-called TV personalities. That’s just not me. I want to produce unbiased news coverage and The Daily Tribune affords me that freedom. My editor Liz is great. If I have an idea she says run with it. She trusts me and knows I write great content.”

“It sounds like you really love what you do.”

“I do. So how did you get into security?” she asked, turning the tables and making him answer some questions.

“I joined the Army Rangers when I graduated from high school. Did two tours in Iraq. Was medically retired when my Humvee damn near exploded from a roadside IUD and lost 95% hearing on my left side and 75% hearing on my right. I was eligible for cochlear implants through wounded warriors at the VA hospital. Got my hearing back and went to work for Blackwater.”

“Interesting. It’s always nice to be around a fellow soldier. I like to know that someone knows what they’re doing and has your six.”

“So where are we headed?” he asked.

“D.C. to find out what really happened to the president, and who’s behind the attacks. I’m also looking into who’s funding this civil war we’re caught up in.”

“I have everything we’ll need back there,” he said, jabbing a thumb towards the bed of the truck. “A couple sleeping bags, a first aid kit, a lantern, toiletries and camping showers. I got coffee and cases of ready to eat meals. The corn beef hash, and biscuits and gravy are actually pretty good and I’m sure we can at least stomach the rest of the stuff”.

“Sounds good. I literally only have what I’m wearing so we’ll need to stop for clothes.”

“You know you can’t exactly go to the mall right now, right?”

“I was planning on throwing a brick through the window of a Goodwill. It’s not exactly like they paid for the merchandise they have in there.”

“I like your rationale. I think I saw one back in Portland we’ll hit on the way out of town.”

The truck bounced up onto a paved road, and Kalahan gunned it, putting as much distance between them and the blown out Jeep as possible.