He looked around his desk, gathered up all the notes he'd jotted down, put them in the puke filled garbage can, and lit a match to set them ablaze. He went to his computer and filled in the necessary codes to dump all data and all video images the base was storing. By the time today was over, this would just be a horrible accident that no one could have expected or be able to explain.
He turned his attention back to the phone and transferred himself to a cellular satellite phone. He grabbed his keys, ID badges, and a picture of his mother. Anything left behind wouldn't look the same later. He headed for the front door at a brisk pace, and passed two men coming back in from their lunch. He felt guilty enough already about what would be happening today. He felt if he could save anyone he should, as this might be the only just thing that he was able to do for anyone today. "Boys, why don't you run to the supplies depot on base and pick up some extra syringes, please?"
He waited for them to leave knowing he probably saved their lives, and swiped the keycard which would make the fortified bomb proof building almost impossible to exit from the front. It was plated with bullet proof glass and two foot thick brickwork as it wasn't designed originally to be a medical center. He locked up the door with keys as well ... just as he heard his first of many screams.
He noticed there was no hold music. He wasn't on hold. He could just hear the secretary saying under her breath, "Be an army of one.... See the world, Margaret. Great advice, dad." She shook it off. "Please hold, sir. I will get Sergeant Smith on the line ASAP for you." She tapped the hold button and rang the Sergeant.
Sergeant Smith was looking over reports and pacing in his office when the telephone rang. He sighed, hating his telephone and, most of the time, a good majority of the people on it. He took a last look at the papers and tossed them on his desk, trading them for a stogie he'd been chewing on more than smoking the last few hours. "Hello, Margaret."
"Sergeant, there is a situation, it seems. Major Stevenson is on the line and insists he urgently needs to talk to you."
He laughed. It takes just one prick parked in a Major's or Captain's parking bay and they would insist it was a crime against humanity, or at least themselves, and it couldn't go unpunished so needed to be on his list of items to care about. "Margaret, when isn't it a situation?"
"He called a moment ago. He's on hold. From his tone, he seems worked up and nervous. He told me that it was an emergency."
"Put him through, Margaret."
Margaret, in a fluid moment, swapped the lines. "Sir? Sergeant Smith will take your call now." She didn't wait for a response, and sent him through to her boss.
Smith answered, already feeling the aggravation from what started off as a normal day would possibly be screwed up by this little pecker. "Major Stevenson? What can I do for you sir?"
He cleared his throat trying to think of a lie and came up with nothing. "That's classified Sergeant. I need you to lockdown the perimeter ASAP. I don't want anyone in or out."
Sergeant Smith shook his head. He couldn't believe he was good enough to save his life but not good enough to be give a single detail. He thought to himself God bless the United States Army. "What else needs done, Major?"
"What kind of artillery do you have quickly available in the armory?"
Smith didn't like where this seemed to be going. "We are well stocked, sir. Small arms, assault rifles, sniper rifles.... Sir, if you would permit me a question, could you tell me
why
you want a level five lockdown and are asking about our weapon stock?"
"Get it." He offered no answer.
"Get what, sir? I seem to be missing something."
"All of it. Get a rifle and sidearm in every God damn soldier's hand and enough ammo to take down a herd of buffalo."
Smith was getting more nervous by the minute and pissed the brass wouldn't tell him what was happening. "Sir, I can give out ARs and pistols until I run out of soldiers, but I'm going to need some sort of directive as to what the men should do once they have the weapons, sir, or they won't do a hell of a lot of good to themselves or anyone else for that matter. We need to know if we have to shoot out of the gates or if this is internal."
Stevenson, knowing his rank meant not having to answer to sergeants, had gotten his orders from higher up than anyone on this base could match. "The targets are in Echo building--the soldiers we brought in last week that were suffering from the Taliban's bio warfare. They've developed something new, Sergeant ... something that turns the men into cannibals or ... something worse."
Smith knew bullshit when he heard it, but the Major was deadly serious. He sat down and shook his head. He absent-mindedly did a sign of the cross. "Are you telling me these men in Echo ward are ... eating each other, sir?"
"Affirmative, Sergeant. I need you to lockdown the grounds and get this base completely secured and tightened down. Now! These things appear to be contagious."
"These ... things? Don't you mean these soldiers, sir?"
Thinking back to what he saw on the monitor from his office, Stevenson shook his head. "Smith, if you could see what I saw, you wouldn't call them men--monsters would be more fitting. But the men in these bodies are gone, replaced with something ... worse. Something evil."
"I can get ground level and the tunnels secured, sir. How do you want to proceed with Echo building itself?"
"I want it burned to the ground, and anyone that makes it out to be shot dead. These orders come from higher ranking officers than myself, and are above being questioned. I want enough firepower on that building that those guns'll melt before they run out of ammo."
"God help us for what were about to do, sir. I'll make sure we get secured and ready, and call to the tunnels to get lockdown procedures in place. I need twenty minutes, sir. I'll meet you in front of Echo."
The Major was silent. He hadn't taken in to account that, when he ordered a lockdown, it would keep him here as well. He knew if he left, he couldn't give accurate details to his boss that things were going the way they were supposed to.
"Sir?"
"If something comes out of that building I want you to cut it into pieces, do you understand me? I don't care how normal it looks or if it appears injured."
"Yes, sir. I will pass it on to the soldiers." He hit the phone for a new line and dialed for the barracks where he had some men from the Third Eagle Company. He was put through to the company leader. "Hilpiper? This is Smith from security. Are you and your men good to go?"
Hilpiper and Smith were regular drinking and target shooting buddies when Hilpiper's men weren't off blowing something up or taking on an assignment of classified nature. Hilpiper new damn well Smith was straight to the point, and wasn't one for small talk. "Mobile? I haven't had any updates about leaving?"
"I've got sky-high orders to get the base locked down, and secure Echo building."
Hilpiper laughed. "You want my men to fill in as MPs? I'm not sure I understand."
Smith sighed. "Echo building is where the sick men are kept, right?"
Hilpiper sighed back. "Affirmative. I've had to visit too many sick men there for comfort. What's going on?"
"The head of the science program on base just called here and ordered that we have to burn it to the ground ... and take care of anything that comes out."
"Wha ... what exactly is going to come out? What about the occupants?"
Smith was quiet a second, failing to think of a good answer. "Sergeant, we are wasting valuable time. If there's something that comes out, it gets shot. Get your men together. They're going to need to lead this thing from the ground."
"Right."
"And I want your best snipers on roof tops ... and I want your team around the perimeter. If anything escapes the building it isn't to make it a foot past the doors."
Hilpiper paused. Not one to question orders, but if it wasn't coming from his friend, he wouldn't believe it. "Are these our boys or the towel heads coming out of there?"
Smith cringed a moment not feeling any better about having to explain this to someone than he had felt when he had heard it for himself. "They were for us but they got hit with some sort of chemical and turned them into--for lack of a better word--monsters."
"Monsters...? They can't be put down with drugs?"
"We have our orders. Get moving!" He hung up the phone, unwilling to give any more details or chances to respond.
Hilpiper hollered at his men to drop what they were doing and ready themselves for a long night. When asked what they needed to do he advised that they'd take no prisoners and to get in place before they lost the light of day and to double up on ammo. The only details he gave them were shoot to kill and take absolutely no prisoners. Everyone coming out of Echo building was considered hostile.
Sergeant Smith showed up at the Echo building, skidding his big 4X4 in the dust as he stopped. He walked straight to the Major like a man on the mission. He was the first man in front of Echo Building. Major Stevenson hadn't beaten him there because he'd never left the front of the building. He had to be absolutely sure that no one attempted to enter, or be permitted to leave. Sergeant Smith went up to the Major and snapped off a textbook salute.
"Where the hell are all the men, Sergeant Smith!?"
"Sir, I just got off the phone with you five minutes ago. It takes time."
Stevenson barked at him, "Time is something we don't have! We don't have any God damn time! We need them here and we need them now! Do I make myself absolutely crystal clear!?"
Smith nodded, slowly peering around the Major, and really started to wonder what the hell was such a threat in that building. He picked up his walkie-talkie and hit different channels talking to the convoy of military transport trucks to step it up a notch. He was met with the same answer he'd just given the Major. Most of the men were sitting in front of their barracks, grilling supper and drinking a cold one. "Just tell 'em it's not a drill!" he shouted at each.
Giant trucks could be seen stopping at the on-base living quarters, and at different buildings which might still have an evening crew. Working men were jumping out with bull horns screaming at soldiers to get their fatigues on and to exit the trucks ASAP, this was not a drill, and this was not optional. Within minutes the trucks were being loaded with men running out carrying boots and jackets in their hands, yelling at each other.
The men climbed into the giant dark green transport trucks, filing in and sitting tight together. These were made for capacity not quality of ride. Once a truck was full, it would head directly to the Echo building. The Major's eyes lit up when he saw a stream of green trucks coming towards him on the horizon, thinking this might be enough people to work. Smith ran to meet the trucks coming in, yelling to each driver to line up two hundred yards from the building and to wait to be called forward before allowing the men to disembark.
Smith saw the four trucks that he was waiting for. He had called them as soon as he'd gotten off the telephone with the Major and Hilpiper, having hit the armory's number on speed dial and told them to bring everything they had. These would be loaded with rifles, pistols, and rocket launchers. What he saw was hell on wheels coming straight to him. He directed the four trucks to line up in a row. Each had a team of men who were sitting in the back with the cargo, awaiting orders, and would take charge of distribution.
Smith ran over to the truck and jumped up to each one giving specific directions. "You make sure everyone gets enough ammo that they'll run out of targets before bullets! If they don't know how to use them have a man standing next to the truck to give a quick explanation!" He signaled for the first truck to come around with the first fifty men. He noticed that the Major was standing with only a 1911 .45 caliber pistol. He signaled to a soldier. "Get an AR and ammo and run it over to the Major! He'd love to have something to use in case of the worst!" A soldier did as asked, but the Major refused there would be plenty of soldiers better versed in the usage of an assault rifle.