Kenn kept his head down again, realizing he was being rewarded, and his heart eased. "Sure. That's it for the list. See you at Mess?"
"You know it."
Their radios crackled to life. "Mitch to Eagle One. Just took a call, A-Man."
Adrian's heart thumped, and he and Kenn exchanged a look. The drunk's tone wasn't encouraging.
"Still on the air?"
"No, low battery. Said they'd call back."
"Copy."
Kenn stayed at Adrian's side as they headed to the COM truck, where Kyle had just taken up his post on watch. The cabin reeked of whiskey and Mitch rewound the tape without saying as much as usual, able to feel Adrian's disapproval.
"This one sounds legit to me, but I just roll your waves."
Adrian had to force himself not to frown. Mitch Hopkins was one hell of a radio man, but he was still too often just loud, crude, arrogant, and intoxicated. All things Adrian and the camp had little tolerance for because it reminded them too much of what had been wrong with the old world when it had fallen. "Play."
The fat-faced man nodded, green eyes smiling at all the people watching, seeing him with the Boss.
"This is Safe Haven. We are a convoy of American Red Cross survivors who will help if we can no matter your age, race, location, or injuries. Does anyone copy?"
There was silence after Mitch's loud voice, and Adrian could feel the alcoholic fingering the button, wanting to move on and be done with this round of calls. Then, there was a pause when Mitch had known instinctively that an answer was coming, and waited instead of garbling the transmission. Definitely one of the best before, and despite his glaring flaws, probably was the best now.
"SOS, Safe Haven! Need a military escort to the nearest compound! Will pay any price!"
The words were surprisingly clear considering the awful clamor of background noise and static, and Adrian liked Mitch's answer.
"Americans help first and ask questions later. Stand by while I get the Boss."
"Can't. Battery's dyin'. There must be some place taking in refugees."
The ex-dispatcher's voice was quick, pointed, "Yeah, us."
"But if you're Red Cross, who do you get your orders from? Where are they?"
"Those aren't questions for me. I just work the radio. What's your situation?"
"Bad. People are hurt, sick. Supplies are gone, food's real low. Where are you? Close?"
"That's another one I won't answer on open waves. You need to talk to the boss. Call back and we'll get him quick, but for now, what's your message?"