Authors: Thomas Koloniar
“M
ajor, you’d better come see this!” Sergeant Jeffries said, shaking Moriarty awake.
Moriarty let go of the woman he was using for warmth and rolled over onto his back. “What’s happened, Sergeant?”
“The men have found something I think you should see right away, sir. Something in the snow.”
Moriarty swung his feet over the edge of the cot and put them on the floor. He slapped the woman’s backside and told her to get up and put on his boots for him. After she tied his laces he stood up, cuffed her hands behind her back, and told her to go lay down. A few minutes later he was tromping off after Jeffries through the deep snow with his hands in his coat pockets. On the far side of the compound a dozen men stood in a circle with flashlights, shining them on the snow.
“What are they looking at?” Moriarty asked.
“It’s weird, sir. You need to see it for yourself.”
Moriarty marched up and stood looking at the snow. At first he didn’t see what they were talking about. He was looking for a specific item, like a frozen arm sticking out of the snow, but after a moment he saw what they had found . . . a slight depression in the snow shaped like a nearly perfect rectangle, about the length and width of an Army six-by-six truck.
“I’ll be goddamned,” he said. “You men get some shovels and be ready to dig, but nobody is to step into that area until ordered to do so. Sergeant Jeffries, get the complex blueprints and a compass and meet me in the house! We may not need that goddamn bulldozer after all.”
A short time later Moriarty and his staff were gathered around the kitchen table by the light of six army lanterns. “Okay,” he said, using the compass to orient the blueprints in the way one would orient a map. “You will notice, gentlemen, there is nothing in these plans to indicate anything located beneath the depression in the snow. Which is because whatever is located there was not added to this installation until after it was commissioned. Does anyone care to take a guess at what it might be?”
“A vent?” Jefferies suggested.
“Even better,” Moriarty replied. “It’s a hydraulic lift elevator, and below that lift elevator is a cargo bay. A cargo bay that is very likely full of supply, supply that will be ours the very moment we blast our way through the left deck. But what is even better, gentlemen, is that we will once again have unfettered access to a blast door. Now, this blast door will likely be larger and slightly thicker than the one we have already dealt with, but we will still be able to blast our way through it. Isn’t that right, Corporal Edelstein?”
“Yes,
sir
!”
“But why is there a depression in the snow?” one of the other men asked.
“Heat,” Moriarty said. “There’s obviously just enough heat below the deck to cause a slight melt close to the ground, which has dropped the surface level of the snow.
“Now, advise the men to dig slowly and very, very carefully. I’m guessing these cagey bastards have covered the deck with dirt, so when they reach dirt, the men are to put the shovels aside and dig with their hands. And no one—I repeat—
no one
is to step on that deck in anything other than stocking feet. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Major.”
“Very good, gentlemen. Let’s move with a purpose.”
The room cleared and Moriarty stood looking out the kitchen window with Jeffries at his side. He checked his watch. “Still two hours before first light,” he muttered. “We need to do this right, Sergeant. Get some men moving around down in the basement with flashlights. Make it look like they’re up to something. It doesn’t matter what. Just so they have the attention of those bastards below. Keep it mysterious.”
“Yes, sir,” Jeffries said. “What about the ’dozer, sir?”
“We’ll talk with Edelstein about that. Six feet of concrete is a lot to blast through. And assaulting through an opening like that won’t be easy.”
“What if we wait until the ’dozer gets here, and we let them see us digging on the far side of the compound,” Jeffries suggested, “to make it look like we’re digging down to the access tunnel for the number two silo? Wouldn’t that draw their attention even farther away from the cargo bay? And with the camera angle being what it is, they won’t be able to see us working on the lift elevator.”
“But they will wonder why we’re letting them watch.”
“We can show them a note. Tell them to surrender or else. They’ll think we’re letting them see in order to prove we can back up our threat.”
“So the question becomes when to hit them,” Moriarty said.
“I think a couple of hours after first light, sir. Give them time to see us and concentrate their defenses on the far side.”
“All right. We’ll start digging as soon as the ’dozer gets here, and exactly two hours later we’ll blow a hole in the lift deck. If there are no defenses in the bay, we’ll send two men down by rope to see if there is power to the lift. In the event the bay is defended, we’ll rain grenades down on them until there’s nothing left but ground chuck.”
F
orrest was sitting on the john when the alarms began to sound once again. “Jesus Christ!” he said, pulling a length of paper from the roll and hurriedly wiping his ass. “Every fucking time!”
“Forrest to the LC immediately!” Kane’s voice called over the P.A. “Forrest to the LC!”
Forrest sprinted down the hall into Launch Control. “What the fuck is it now?”
“Look!” Kane said, pointing at the monitor. On the screen, a large a D-8 Cat track hoe was digging into the earth on the far side of the compound. Given the depth of the hole, the Cat hadn’t made more than a few passes.
Ulrich arrived and took one look at the monitor. “Broken Arrow, Jack!”
Forrest was already on his way to the fuse box. He unlocked it quickly and threw one of two red switches.
Ulrich watched the monitor, hoping to see the ground erupt in a series of heavy explosions. “Nothing!” he shouted, kicking the waste can across the room. “They’ve already torn up the fucking grid! Goddamnit, Jack, I told you!”
Michael stood in the doorway in his pajamas looking very confused. “What was supposed to happen?”
“We mined the upper compound with TNT,” Kane answered. “Everything you’re seeing on the monitor right now should have been blown to shit when Jack threw that switch, but that ’dozer has torn up the grid.”
“Jack, blow the goddamn house!” Ulrich said, seeing that Forrest was relocking the fuse box. “Once they see the ground was mined they’ll check the house sure as shit.”
“Not necessarily,” Forrest said, moving back to the monitor. “And if we blow the house, we lose this camera feed.” He shook a smoke from the pack and fired it up, drawing deeply as he stood thinking.
“At least we’d kill these assholes here,” Kane said, bringing up the tunnel feed to point out the flashlights moving around in the darkness deep within the basement. “It’s tough to tell what they’re doing, but they have to be working on some sort of a countermeasure for the flamethrowers.”
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Ulrich said. “What’s it going to be, Jack? Use it or lose it, goddamnit.”
“We need to see what they’re doing up there, Wayne. The house stays intact.”
If he was completely honest about it, Ulrich was glad this particular call wasn’t up to him; he was truly at a loss to judge the best move under the present circumstances.
“For now,” Forrest said, “we form a human chain all the way to silo number two. We have to transfer every bit of food out of there before we’re cut off from it. They’re digging down to the access tunnel to blow their way in. Once the silo is empty, we’ll use the remainder of the TNT to booby-trap it and the tunnel. Wayne, you’re in charge of the relocation. Kane and I will remain here in the LC. Who’s on duty in the cargo bay?”
“Sullivan and Marty.”
“Get them out and seal it. There’s still a shit-ton of supply left in number two silo, and we’ll need every swinging dick to move it.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Ulrich said.
Forrest picked up the P.A. “Attention everybody. Our friends upstairs are using a bulldozer to dig down to the number two access tunnel. So we need all of you to pitch in and help move our supplies out of number two silo and into the number one blast tunnel. Everyone stay calm and listen to Wayne. We’re going to be okay.”
He set the mike down and stood smoking as he watched the Cat plowing through the dirt.
“That last part might be the first lie you’ve told them,” Kane said.
“I know it.”
“Those assholes don’t have nothin’ to do but excavate,” Kane went on. “Pretty soon we’ll be robbing Peter to pay Paul down here, and we only got four days of air to do that. Even less with everybody workin’ their asses off shufflin’ shit around.”
“I know.”
“We’re gonna have to go up there and give those motherfuckers somethin’ else to—”
“I know it, Marcus, goddamnit!” Forrest stood watching the machine make yet another pass, his mind working to process the entirety of the situation.
“Jack, let me put together an assault team . . . me, Sullivan, and Vasquez. We’ll take out those assholes in the basement and clear the house in nothing flat.”
Forrest ignored him, trying to gain a sense of how long it would be before the machine unearthed the access tunnel. He estimated it would probably take less than an hour, despite the obvious inexperience of the man operating the ’dozer.
“We need to disable that fucking Cat,” he said finally. “That solves our problem.”
“Shannon’s M-203 will do the trick,” Kane replied. “I can hit it easily from the upstairs window.”
“Get Sullivan ready to back you up,” Forrest said. “I don’t want a family man going out there unless it becomes imperative. You two will have to be very fast, Marcus.”
“Don’t you fuckin’ worry about that,” Kane said, grabbing for the P.A. to call Sullivan.
“Wait!” Forrest said, having a sudden thought. “Why the fuck are they showing us what they’re up to?”
“To scare us.”
“But they’re giving us time to prepare,” Forrest said. “Hold on a second. This shit isn’t right. Check the rest of the feeds.”
Kane checked through half of the camera feeds before finding that the kitchen camera had been uncovered. All they could see, however, was a close-up shot of a paper plate. Written on the paper plate was a short note:
SURRENDOR NOW OR YOU ALL DIE!
Forrest shook his head. “Fuckin’ idiots misspelled ‘surrender.’ ”
He took the up P.A. “Mike to the LC. Mike, come to the LC.”
“What the hell can he do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing but I’m having a brain lock.”
When Michael returned he was dressed in his street clothes. “What do you need, Jack?”
“Put me inside this asshole’s head,” Forrest said, pointing to the note on the screen.
“Well, he needs a dictionary. Other than that, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean why is he showing me what he’s up to?” Forrest said. “The fucking asshole has met me. He knows I’d never surrender. So why is he bothering to ask? A taunt I could understand. But a ridiculous demand? It doesn’t make sense to me.”
“Okay, I see what you mean,” Michael said. “But I’m not sure there’s any way to know what he’s thinking by this point. I mean, I’ve never interviewed anyone who’s been driven to cannibalism before. His entire psychological profile has been . . .”
“Been what?”
“Well, I was about to say that it’s been altered, but no, that wouldn’t be right. It’s been synthesized. Who he is now is who he’s always been . . . just with all the fat boiled off, nothing left to inhibit his true . . . psychopathic nature. He would have to be psychopathic in order to retain command over so many men under these conditions.”
“So what’s it mean?”
“I think it means he’s deliberately coming after us to kill us. He’s not one bit interested in our surrender . . . no matter how he spells it. Is that what you’re looking for?”
“That’s it,” Forrest said. “Take care of our girls, okay?”
Michael smiled. “You got it.”
Michael left the room and Forrest went back to watching the monitors. He counted the total number of men he could see and came up with only six, not counting however many men were goofing off in the basement with the flashlights, which couldn’t have been more than four or five. That left around ninety men unaccounted for.
“Bullshit,” he said at length, drawing deeply from his cigarette. “This cocksucker’s up to something, Marcus. Something we can’t see. Where are we most vulnerable?”
The answer hit them both at the same time.
“Fuck, the lift!”
Forrest grabbed the P.A. again. “All hands under arms to Launch Control now! All hands to Launch Control! Civilian personnel are to seal themselves inside the common area immediately—no exceptions!”
Kane was already up and shrugging into his body armor.
“We need to get to the cargo bay, Jack!”
“Forget it,” Forrest said, grabbing for his own armor. “Unless I’m wrong, they’re already inside. We’re going to lose the first blast door.”
“But we don’t have a countermeasure for the cargo tunnel.”
“We’re the countermeasure, my friend. You and me.”
“Suits me fine, Captain.”
The rest of the combat personnel were arriving in Launch Control and suiting up for battle, including Emory, whom Forrest was not about to argue with under such dire circumstances.
“Shannon, I want you armed and sitting right here manning the goddamn console. You and West will be the last line of defense. Doc, does Price have the box of cyanide capsules?”
“He’s got them,” West said, accepting a carbine from Ulrich. “He and Mike are both sealed in with the women and children and they know what needs to be done if we lose the complex.”
“Okay, people, here’s the deal,” Forrest said, unlocking the fuse box again. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure we’ve already lost the cargo bay, and if I’m right, we’ll be losing the first cargo door very soon. Marcus and I plan to be in the tunnel when they blow that door. We’ll hit them hard the second they make the breach. Under
no
circumstances is anyone to open the second cargo door to try and help us!
“Wayne, the five of you will wait at the top of the stairs inside the main entrance until Shannon flips this switch and blows up the fucking house. At that time you five will enter the main tunnel with Sean sealing it behind you. Sean, you will then haul ass back down here with Shannon.
“Wayne and his assault force will make their way into whatever is left of the house, killing every motherfucker they encounter while en route to the lift elevator from above. Once you’ve secured the opening to the cargo bay, Marcus and I will meet you in the middle.”
“We’ll all be dead before that rendezvous ever takes place,” Ulrich said, strapping into his harness.
“Men,” Forrest said, pulling his helmet on over his head, “those assholes up there are half starved to death. That makes us stronger, faster, sharper, and one fuck of a lot meaner than they are. Hooah?”
“Hooah!”
“Move fast, Stumpy! Take maximum advantage of their confusion after Shannon blows the house.”