by JT Sawyer
With Ivins being promoted to regional commander of the Southwest, the SEAL commander was tasked with gaining entry to the Palo Verde Nuclear Reactor west of Phoenix. If they were successful, they would sweep through the remaining nuclear facilities around the western U.S. and eradicate the other alphas sequentially while coordinating their attacks with military counterparts in other regions of the nation.
Now all they needed was to obtain more ammunition and ordinance. Pacelle was busy surfing through numerous DOD locations, federal sites, and military bases to see if there was an appropriate location near Phoenix that could provide them with a suitable arsenal.
“So after we resupply on munitions, I say we stop in Tempe and get some Arizona Diamondbacks swag,” said Porter. “I could use a new ballcap.”
“I’d agree with that plan if only because a new hat would cut down on the glare I’m always getting from that increasingly bald dome of yours,” said Nash with a chuckle.
“You would pick such a stellar baseball team to identify with,” said Connelly, shaking her head.
“Sorry, pal, we’re angling to hit the drones later this afternoon and test out the aerosol, but maybe one of Ivins’ guys will lend you a spare hat,” said Reisner as he winked at Murphy across the table.
Murphy gave them a stern look. “Shit, that’ll be the day. I can’t lend out a hat to an inlander like you, Porter. You gotta earn your sea legs first.”
“You fuckin’ squids and all your designated SEAL gear. It’s no wonder your packs weigh more than ours, carrying all that extra bling around.” He grinned as he continued inspecting his rifle.
“Tell you what, when we get back tonight, we’ll let you in on our game of poker, and if you can hold your own, I’ll give you my own damn hat,” said Murphy.
“You may as well hand it over now,” said Nash. “Porter can’t be beat in poker. I’ve tried more than a few times.”
“Pff…whatever; 1900 in the conference room tonight, tough guy,” said Murphy with a crooked smile.
Porter waved his hand around at the other SEALs. “Just you and me, or you bringing all your pals here for moral support, ’cause you gonna be in tears when we’re finished.”
He tapped on the brim of his Navy ballcap. “You just keep talking shit—we’ll see who’s wearing this hat tomorrow at breakfast.”
Their banter was interrupted by Pacelle, who snapped his hands in the air for everyone to be quiet. “OK, there’s a National Guard base near Tucson that might provide you with the hardware you need,” said Pacelle, who had pulled up a map on the wall monitor.
“That’s two hours south of here, and they’re going to have a vault we’d need to breach just to gain access—and I’m not sure how much would be left inside once we blew that hatch,” said Nash.
“I’ve got a better idea,” said Ivins, looking at Pacelle. “Look into the ATF office here in downtown Phoenix. They should have a shitload of confiscated weapons, ammo, and explosives obtained from the cartels.”
A minute later, Pacelle swung around in his swivel chair, holding up his arms as he nodded at the wall monitor behind him, which showed the black-and-white security footage from the weapons evidence room. The shelves were lined with assault rifles, boxes of grenades, blocks of C4, and RPGs. “Behold—the world is yours.”
“And all courtesy of your tax dollars.”
“That’s all just from the streets of Phoenix,” said Connelly. “Surprised the cartels didn’t own this city.”
“They used to run parts of it,” said Ivins. “We did some joint-ops along the border here years ago with the Federales, and they kept talking about Phoenix being the epicenter of the drug wars.”
“Well, I guess we can all be grateful for the pandemic putting an end to the illegal drug trade,” said Porter.
“What’s the security setup at the ATF building?” said Reisner.
“Standard infra-red and motion sensors coupled with an alpha-numeric keypad,” said Pacelle. “With enough notice, I can bypass that.”
Ivins looked around the room at the other operators. “Then let’s plan on wheels up in sixty minutes.”
Reisner slid on his tactical vest, wincing slightly as it rubbed against his bruised ribs. Ivins moved closer to him while removing a piece of paper from his pocket. “Hey, you ever heard of a place in the desert west of here called Ravens Keep?”
Reisner looked over Ivins’ shoulder at the letter, noticing it was signed by Kelly Ivins. “No, sorry, amigo. That sounds more like a name the locals would give a place, so it might not show up on a map.”
He could see Ivins’ lower lip buckle up. Reisner rested his hand on the operator’s beefy shoulder. “When this next mission is over, I’ll do whatever I can to help you find your family.”
“Thanks—that means a lot.”
Reisner patted the man’s arm with his fist as he walked away. “Least I can do for a guy who’s saved my ass a half-dozen times in the past week.”
Reisner glanced around the room before he left, knowing they would all be going downrange again and wondering what Operation Overlord would result in after the dust had settled. He heard the intercom speaker on the wall, which indicated that a helicopter had just landed on the rooftop helipad. Reisner saw Selene rush by, stopping to grab his arm. “That’s Victor—he’s finally here.”
“Were you this excited when I arrived here?”
She gave him a wink, then kissed him before trotting off like a kid heading out to recess. He watched her leave, feeling the smile that had formed on his lips, then walking in the opposite direction with a quickness in his step. Life seemed more stable now that they were in Phoenix, but he knew things were about to change again once Dorr initiated the next operation involving ground forces. Change seemed to be the one constant in Reisner’s life, but for once he wished the cards would play out differently and he could leave his weapons holstered for good. He’d had enough of combat and loss, and would much rather sit on the porch of his old house, enjoying the sunset with Selene. He let his mind linger on the image, knowing it would be a long time before that would ever happen—if it happened at all.
He took a deep breath and adjusted his tactical vest as he headed down the hall. Time to head back into the fray.
Chapter 37
The trip to the ATF headquarters near downtown Phoenix went without a hitch thanks to Pacelle overriding the security systems to the armory. Once they were outfitted with enough personal ammunition, magazines, and weapons, they made two more trips in the Blackhawk to obtain the rest of the items and relocate the ordinance back to the CDC.
That afternoon, they prepared for their insertion into the storm tunnels near downtown to test out the aerosolized bioweapon. Porter had retrofitted a dozen smoke canisters, which allowed Selene to load a concentrated dose of the bioagent. She reassured him it was non-lethal to humans, but he still handled the canisters as if they were sticks of dynamite.
Pacelle had pinpointed a small nest of drones that were residing in the storm drains four miles south of downtown Phoenix. Without the presence of an alpha to alert others of its kind, this assemblage of drones would provide a tightly controlled group for monitoring the effects of the aerosol. Now, all they had to do was navigate down into the concrete tunnels during midday and drop the canisters into the cluster of thirty creatures. It all seemed like a straightforward operation to get in and out on the drawing board in the conference room, but Reisner knew there was no such thing as an easy mission. If this aerosol worked then that would give the military a considerable edge in gaining some much-needed ground not only in combatting the paras but in bolstering the declining morale within the armed forces.
As he carefully examined the row of smoke canisters Porter had left on the table in their new basement armory, he studied the metal surface of each device as if staring into a crystal ball, wondering what the day would bring. He carefully slid them into his backpack, then took a deep breath while securing the top flap on his pack before
exiting the conference room. Reisner walked to the exit at the end of the hallway, then fervently strode up the steps to the helipad on the roof, where the rest of the team was waiting. He pulled his shoulders back and made sure the grimace on his face was gone as he projected a look of confidence to his group, aware more than ever of the urgent need to eradicate the enemy before the creatures could gain a further tactical advantage. He felt the weight of his backpack increase with each step, and hoped they would soon return from this brief mission with a new weapon in the war against the paras. He knew from his considerable combat experience that hope was not a recognizable strategic tool, but right now it felt like the only lifeline allowing humanity to cling to the shaky precipice of this insane world. Reisner climbed on board the Blackhawk and buckled in as his team did the same, then he motioned with his hand for the pilot to depart, trying to quiet his mind for the adrenaline-fueled hours ahead.
Epilogue
Savannah, Georgia
Three levels below the Whitcomb Estate, Roland looked down at his fingers as he slowly curled them into a fist. He did it again, each time marveling at the raw feeling that welled up in him from the newfound strength that fired through every fiber of his being—a strength that he had never known in his former life before the metamorphosis allowed by the parasites and his unique blood. His body throbbed with energy as the worms coursed through his veins. The pressure at the base of his skull provided a fullness and satisfaction that he never dreamed possible.
Unlike his sister and the other alphas around the world whose brains reanimated sometime after death, leaving parts of their intellect inoperable, Roland never experienced the ending of his life. Instead, his was a metamorphosis that left his considerable intellect and memories intact. But, it was the command of over a hundred thousand other minds that filled him with a sense of purpose. The other alphas took their direction from him—the most powerful mind amongst all of them. In turn, they directed the drones to his ends. From the deserts and jungles to the wrecked skylines of a thousand cities throughout the globe, Roland’s mind was their mind. Since his transition to this new life form, there was a sense of unification and clarity within the brood unlike anything they had known before. His plan to relocate the majority of alphas to the nuclear sites had ensured their safety for the short run and had bought him time to determine his next move against the Others. The shared experiences of the alphas provided him with real-time information on the whereabouts of the enemy and which tactics were worth pursuing.
As he stood up, Roland looked at his old cane resting against the wall with disdain, then moved into the natural sunlight that was flooding in from the tunnel opening above. His great grandfather had built this plantation upon a foundation of natural catacombs, and its thick limestone walls provided protection from the midday heat as well as from the satellites he knew would be probing the country for the locations of large clusters of his brood. Roland found it amusing that the very tunnels that had once been used for running contraband and slaves were now being used in a similar fashion as he watched a group of bedraggled captives being brought through the west tunnel by a dozen drones. Roland watched his prey walk past, reflecting on the feeding method his twin sister had shown him and feeling the base of his neck throb with pleasure as he looked into the terrified eyes of his would-be victims.
An awareness came over him as he craned his head upward, his attention turned to the south, his mind racing through the information provided by the drones near Tampa, where the largest concentration of the Others could be found. His eyelids fluttered as he absorbed the raw data from hundreds of his underlings in the streets and on rooftops overlooking the military base four miles from downtown.
When he was done processing the images, he took a deep breath and looked over at Katherine, who was standing before a group of seven humans that had just been selected from among the captives. She didn’t turn around when Roland spoke in her mind, and only hovered around the frightened humans like a honeybee flitting around a cluster of succulent flowers.
This will be our largest battle yet—this one will determine the fate of who rules and who is subjugated. There will be great losses on both sides, he said.
Though her intellect had been more ravaged by the virus than his, Roland knew she would comprehend most of his message.
You will find a way. We are many now, she replied.
He returned to a small cellar off to the right side of the tunnel. The wall now contained chains and shackles that were bolted to the overhead rafters. He moved past two slumped human corpses that hung from their restraints, blood and clear fluid still leaking out from the incisions along their backs. Roland brushed past them to a large map tacked beside an old bookcase. He folded his arms as he studied the streets and back alleys around Tampa, then he fixed his eyes on the military base.
Soon the war for this world will begin.
THE END
Thank you for reading this book! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Volume 4, Emergence: Eradication is now available on Amazon Kindle.
If you would like to receive information on future book releases in the Emergence Series or wish to be a part of my reading team, please visit http://www.jtsawyer.com or join the JT Sawyer Facebook page.
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About the Author
JT Sawyer is the pen name for Tony Nester, who makes his living teaching survival courses for the military special operations community, Department of Homeland Security, US Marshals, FAA, and other federal agencies throughout the U.S. He has over 27 years of experience testing long-term survival skills in the desert, mountains, and forest. He also served as a technical consultant for the film Into the Wild and has been featured on NBC News, Maxim, Discovery, Fox News, NY Times, and the Travel Channel.
Additional Titles by JT Sawyer
First Wave Boxed Set
Special Forces veteran Travis Combs just wanted to forget his weary years of leading combat missions while taking an extended rafting trip through the Grand Canyon. As he and his group complete a 22-day trip on the Colorado River, they find the world has unraveled from a deadly pandemic. Now, he has to show his small band how to live off the land and cross the rugged Arizona desert, while evading blood-drinking zombies, gangs of cartel bikers, and a rogue government agency. The bestselling First Wave Series is now available as a boxed set with all three action-packed volumes.
Until Morning Comes
Volumes 1-5
Secret Service Agent Carlie Simmons began her day surrounded by trusted colleagues in an inter-agency shooting competition in Tucson. It ended with a staggering body count as the world around her unraveled from a deadly virus. With her mission to extract the President’s daughter from the University of Arizona gone awry, she must choose between her sworn duties and her moral obligations to others as the city is overtaken by roving packs of flesh-eating mutants. If she and her small group are to survive the night and find a way out of the ravaged city, she will have to summon all of her training, mental prowess, and tactical abilities.
Dead In Their Tracks
The Mitch Kearns Combat Tracker Series
Volumes 1-7
Meet Mitch Kearns, a former Special Forces Combat Tracker who works for the FBI hunting down notorious criminals. Crossing paths with Israeli agent Dev Leitner, the two seasoned operators join forces to bring down terrorist cells, rogue assassins, and black-ops mercenaries in these adrenaline-soaked novels that span the globe.
Non-Fiction Survival Books by Tony Nester
(aka JT Sawyer):
Survival Gear You Can Live With
Bug-Out Gear for Travelers
A Vehicle Survival Kit You Can Live With
When the Grid Goes Down: Disaster Gear and Survival Preparatio
ns for Making Your Home Self-Reliant
The Modern Hunter-Gatherer: A Practical Guide to Living Off the Land
Bushcraft Tips & Tools
Life Under Open Skies: Adventures in Bushcraft
