Chapter 41
After spending the first few days
adjusting to life at Fort Lewis, Carlie inserted herself into a firearms
training position working with new recruits. It felt good to have a roof over
her head again along with a daily routine but she knew it was only temporary.
The sec-def hinted at putting her, Shane, and Matias into operational roles
after they had had time to physically recuperate from their survival ordeal
abroad. In the meantime, she was content to fall into the position of firearms
instructor especially since it meant furthering Eliza’s training. At the end of
each day, she would pull the young woman aside and run her through several core
drills focusing on refining her shoot-and-move skills along with empty-hand
combatives. She knew that Eliza already possessed undaunting willpower and was
obviously capable of enduring tremendous physical hardship. Carlie could impart
the advanced tactical skills needed to turn Eliza into a reliable fighter that
would augment her existing team’s abilities while giving the woman a healthy
outlet to work out her pent-up aggression from her months on the road.
Following an intensive seven-day training
regime, Carlie gave her recruits a day off. She was sitting on the floor of her
room stretching before going on a morning run around the outside of B-Wing when
she heard the intercom crackle on the wall beside her cot. It was the youthful
voice of the sec-def’s assistant who was requesting her presence in her boss’s
office two floors above.
After confirming her arrival, she changed
out of her sweats into her fatigues and reluctantly headed upstairs. She sat in
Lavine’s office alone for only five minutes before he came bursting through the
wooden double doors and quickly insinuated himself into the leather chair at
his desk.
“Ms. Simmons, I’ll get to the point as my
time is precious.” He paused, steepling his fingers and pressing them against
his lips. “We’ve lost contact with Duncan and his team. They gained access to
the Annoric facility two days ago and have been dark since then. Our last
communication with them revealed that they were headed to the lower level but
there hasn’t been any word since then. SAT imagery reveals that there are heat
signatures in the lowest sub-level but they are inert which means they are
probably cut off from their evac route. It appears there are three organic
assets.”
“’Organic assets’: you mean Duncan and his
men, right?” said Carlie, knowing what the term meant but forcing Lavine to rethink
his words.
“Yes, exactly, Duncan. I am stretched thin
here with two of our other teams spread out along southeastern Washington. I
know the extent of your training and need you and your crew to head up to
Fairbanks and take the lead on this search-and-rescue operation.”
“A few of us have done cold-weather ops
before but not my entire team.”
“Tell me what you need and I’ll see if I
can make it happen. I can provide you with all the gear and tactical support I
can muster but you’ll have to get your team up to speed on cold-weather issues
enroute to the target.”
Going into such an unforgiving environment
would be challenging enough even with winter skills under our belts. Plus we’ve
all been living in the tropics for months. Hell, I’m not even acclimated to the
cooler weather here.
Carlie realized that by the time they got to the facility, Duncan might be dead
and whatever dangers he had faced would be staring her team in the face. Still,
she couldn’t leave him there to die and then there was the vital need to still
secure the original viral strain.
She sat forward, resting her arms on her
legs, gazing down at the faded tiles and then back up at Lavine. “Alright, when
can we be wheels up?”
Chapter 42
Carlie and her group had assembled in
C-Wing. The rear armory contained cold-weather clothing, footwear, and other
critical items for coping with extreme weather. With Shane having the most
experience conducting extended cold-weather operations with the SEALs, he did a
crash-course in how to dress and how to prevent hypothermia, frostbite, and
snow-blindness. Afterwards, everyone began searching out their size amongst the
white-dappled parkas lining the concrete wall along with insulated mittens,
wool balaclavas, long underwear, and the army’s infamous extreme cold-weather
boots, also known as Mickey Mouse boots amongst military personnel.
Once they were outfitted, Carlie walked
everyone over to the weapons locker and outfitted her team with the necessary
firearms—standard M4 rifles and Glock 19 pistols along with seven magazines for
each weapon and tactical flashlights. Each person still had their tarnished
machetes from Mexico and these were outfitted with new sheaths given how jungle
rot had claimed most of them. Nine-inch fixed blades were issued as well as
personal trauma kits and a rucksack with a three-day supply of MREs and water.
Their accouterments were rounded out with the addition of radios and ear-mics.
While they were silently stowing their
items and contemplating the mission ahead, Eliza entered the large chamber. The
rest of Carlie’s team looked up at her bold walk and lithe figure.
“Go easy on her, she’s still raw,” said
Carlie.
“Sure thing, Mom,” said Jared.
“Especially you, smart-ass.”
“Notice how she was looking at you when
she said that?” commented Shane with a laugh.
“Hey, I can be a good influence on the
youth of today.”
Amy shook her head. “You’re more like one
of those uncles you weren’t supposed to go camping with as a kid.”
Before Jared could reply, Matias raised
his hand, motioning him to be quiet. “You oughta zip it, cowboy, before you get
pummeled any further. You’re outgunned here.”
“Why you being so nice all of a sudden?
You smack your pretty head during training earlier?”
“You’ve never seen my nice side. I only
bring it out for friends,” Matias said with a chuckle.
“Ouch, that’s low, amigo.”
“Oh, you walked into that one, tough guy,”
said Carlie as Eliza walked up to the table and she turned to greet her.
“You’ll have to forgive my crew, they still think they’re sitting around the
campfire on the beach.” She stepped back and introduced Eliza, who was wearing
fresh camouflage fatigues, boots, and a baseball cap which kept her hair
contained except for a swath that draped over her cheek.
Eliza nodded to everyone and tossed her
backpack on the metal table. “Grateful to be here. Thank you for having me on
board.”
As everyone walked forward exchanging
handshakes, Eliza would give a nod of recognition as she recalled each face in
relation to where she had sat on the return helicopter flight from Tucson to
White Sands months ago.
All except for Jared. After shaking, she
raised her hand to her chin and darted her eyes around the room. “Hmm, sorry, I
just don’t remember you. Are you sure you were a part of that group?”
Jared looked around the room with wide eyes.
“Hell, yes, I’m sure, darlin’. You don’t recall this face, seriously? The
southern gent who regaled everyone with tales of his worldly adventures?” He
stepped back, smirking. “Just who do you think saved everyone’s ass in Tucson
in the first place so they could be on that helo?”
Eliza’s lips were holding back a crooked smile.
She shot a fleeting look at Carlie then back at Jared while sliding her hand
over her mouth.
“Oh, I see, I see what’s going on here,”
he said, glancing at both women while thrusting his hands on his hips. “OK, I
get it. Carlie put you up to this, didn’t she? Just to get a rise out of me.”
“I’m not at liberty to speak about such
classified intel,” she said, hiding a laugh behind her hand.
Jared grinned and shook his head. “Ooh,
that’s good and I know a good con when I see one, darlin’—why, you are going to
fit right into Carlie’s little band of crusaders.” He stepped forward and
placed his arm around her shoulder, giving her a sideways hug while glancing over
at Carlie, who was already smiling.
Chapter 43
After their bonejarring flight along the turbulent
west coast of Canada on a C-130, they arrived at the partially operational
Eielson Air Force Base, twenty-six miles southeast of Fairbanks. Thirty minutes
later, they hastily boarded a double-rotor CH-47 Chinook, one of four remaining
military helicopters in the region. The pilot was a blond-haired man named
Harley who was a part of the three hundred people left at the base which
consisted mostly of civilians and support personnel. The trip took two hours as
they headed along the windswept snowy landscape and rugged mountain ranges to a
remote valley east of the gates of the Arctic National Park.
“So you guys are connected with the other
group out of Fort Lewis that commandeered one of my helos a week ago, eh?” said
the pilot.
“That’s right,” said Carlie. “Were they in
the same bird as this one?”
“No, they took up a Blackhawk as per their
pilot’s request. Damn shame, as that was our only one.”
“Yeah, damn shame that they haven’t been
heard of in a week and could be dead, too.”
“Copy that. No disrespect intended. We’re
just stretched thin at our base. I haven’t even been up in a month as our fuel
supply doesn’t warrant it. But when the sec-def himself calls then you know
it’s gotta be serious.”
“The sec-def contacted your personally?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Nothing—that just doesn’t seem like him; he’s
usually not the type to take direct responsibility.”
The pilot chuckled. “Never met the man but
he’s supposed to be a real sonofabitch—though he did increase our spending
budget up here significantly the past few years so I won’t complain too much.
All he told me was to make sure the package you were retrieving made it back
safely.”
She shook her head in disgust
. No
mention of us returning safely, just the goods. Duncan and his team could be
erased off the planet and it wouldn’t matter to him.
She looked below at
the frozen wasteland and jagged peaks
.
She turned back to the pilot. “What
do you know about where we’re headed?”
“Nothing other than the coordinates you
provided. The other team just said they’d be back within the day if everything
went well. I didn’t even know there was anything out this far.”
“Very few people do, even on our end,
until lately.”
“Well, with these brutal temps, we can’t afford
to linger here overnight so if you could make this a quick exfil, that’d be
great. Otherwise, we’re gonna be sleeping in snow caves to deal with the -70
degree weather that’s due in when night falls.”
Carlie nodded and then returned to looking
over the barren landscape below as a valley came into view and the onboard GPS
unit began flashing. As the helicopter swooped below the ridgeline and circled
the facility, Carlie saw the partially exposed rotors of Duncan’s helicopter
below. An undulating wave of snow had drifted over the side, nearly obscuring
everything but the topmost elements. After scanning the facility entrance
below, she motioned the pilot to set down a hundred yards out from the main
doors.
She put on her insulated shooting gloves and
then brought up her tinted snow goggles from their resting place on her neck as
everyone around her went through the same motions. After unbuckling, she
kneeled before the door and flung the parka hood onto her head. As the landing
pads of the helo set down smoothly on the snow, she immediately yanked open the
sliding door and jumped out while everyone followed behind her in unison.
Rushing to the entrance, she initiated the
numeric password on the keypad while the rest of her team covered the area. The
metal doors struggled to open, the metal groaning and grinding from the extreme
cold. After quickly sweeping the immediate entrance, the team slipped inside,
sealing the doors and shutting out the tempestuous winds behind them.
As the internal heating fans in the
ceiling activated, Carlie pulled back her hood and walked forward, holding her
M4 at a low-ready. The ankle-level lights had flickered on and, as her eyes
adjusted from the blinding sunlight outside to this artificial setting, she
could see a tangle of bodies strewn about the rear section of the structure.
She proceeded slowly, her heavy Arctic boots crunching down on spent shells
along the tiled floor, until she came to the first body. It was one of Duncan’s
men, the uniform so mangled and bloody that she couldn’t make out the headless
man’s name tag.
She wiped the back of her mitten across
her lips as she felt her mouth go dry. Looking up, Carlie saw that there were
three soldiers and five mutants spread along the floor. Shane walked past her and
knelt down beside one of the creatures whose yellow skin was as smooth as
obsidian. He prodded its sinewy limbs with the muzzle of his rifle. “This complexion
reminds me of those fast-moving mutants that got on board the
Farragut
with us a few months back.”
Eliza weaved between the crumpled bodies
and stood over a wiry creature in a wool sweater whose head was only
half-intact. “I saw one of those things in Idaho. It took down General Adams,
springing on him like it was a leopard. I’d never seen anything move that fast
before.”
“Yeah, they are different than the other
flesh-munchers,” said Jared. “Some side-effect of the original virus that was
designed to create super-soldiers, according to Pavel.”
“Strange that they all have the same glossy
look to their skin,” said Matias.
Carlie scanned the rest of the chamber and
then moved towards the rear double doors beyond the bodies. She flipped the
polycarbonate lid on the wall keypad and typed in the entry code as Shane read
off the numbers from his portable micro-tablet. The rest of the group stood
shoulder-to-shoulder with their rifles steadied ahead. “Remember, if there’s a
bunch of those things headed at us then use short controlled bursts and we will
do bounding moves backwards and retreat to the helo if necessary,” Carlie said,
looking at Eliza as she knew the rest of her team was well-practiced in team
tactics by now.
As the second set of double doors hissed
open, relinquishing their air-tight seal, she saw two more dead zombies on the
floor to the right, their heads split open by rifle fire. The only thing in the
circular room was a control panel on the cement wall to the left and an
elevator in the middle, its shiny silver doors reflecting off their
rifle-mounted flashlights.
Carlie moved past the carnage and over to
the elevator doorframe, staring down at the solitary red button. “Looks like
there aren’t many choices to be made here, eh.”
“And this goes where exactly?” said Jared.
Shane slapped the button with his
knuckles. “Let’s find out. I hate anticipation.”
“Man, I liked it better when we only had
to worry about finding coconuts and spearing fish,” said Jared, his jawline
tightening.
Carlie grabbed the tablet from Shane and
looked at the diagram again. “There are nine sub-levels from here. Duncan must
have descended to the last level to get to the containment lab where the viral specimens
were housed along with rescuing any. We’ll head to level nine first. If that
doesn’t work then we’ll sweep the other levels one by one on our way back up.”
Hearing the elevator come to a halt, they
stepped back and readied their rifles. The doors opened and they saw the
chamber was empty but everyone’s eyes moved in unison up to the right corner
where a single streak of blood ran the length of the wall alongside several
crimson handprints.
The muffled sound of exhalations faded as
the group grew silent. Carlie muttered something foul in Russian and then
forced herself to move forward until she was at the entrance. She blinked
several times and then slowly entered the elevator, her wooden legs stepping
cautiously as if the floor was comprised of thin glass. She stared at the swath
of blood and then looked behind her, each person’s face a mirror of her own.
Everyone began stutter-stepping forward in a single motion like a school of
fish inadvertently plunging into an abyss until they were lined up around her.
She depressed the 9
th
sublevel
button and watched as the doors began closing, the two stainless-steel panels
sliding together agonizingly slowly while the main entrance doors to the
outside world in the distance faded from her view. Carlie felt like she had
swallowed her fist and she tried hard to clear her throat. She looked over at
Matias, who had his eyes closed, his lips silently expressing the words to a
biblical verse she had heard him utter before during times of adversity. Jared
had his hands tightly wrapped around the wall railings as he stared unflinching
at the doors while a vein in his neck bulged outward. Shane stood ready at the
entrance with his hands trained on his rifle, his boot jittering rhythmically
on the faux-wooden floor tiles. Amy kept biting her lip and letting go as she
stood ready between Shane and Matias. Carlie looked at Eliza beside her and the
young woman met her eyes. For a moment, Carlie thought she saw the former innocent
expression she used to witness on Eliza’s face but then it disappeared and her
face hardened up like clay drying in the summer sun, erasing her youthful
appearance. She could see the months of tension from combat etched onto her
face. Eliza was rolling her right thumb in circles along her index finger but
otherwise stood in quiet confidence with her weight forward on her toes. Carlie
realized that the young fighter was no longer someone that had to be coddled. Whatever
emotions were bubbling beneath Eliza’s surface were something she had birthed
on her excruciating journey and would serve her in the coming moments and
beyond. Carlie felt the weight on her shoulders lessen and took in a deep
breath. Her focus returned to the mission and she felt the familiar but
controlled surge of adrenaline moving through her disciplined body. She glanced
up at the numbers on the overhead panel that were counting down to nine then back
to her friends who, like her, were plumbing the alcoves of their souls.