That one report had caused Ryan and his family so much anguish. Now they were back. Not only him and Cal, but Zanzi too.
“See anything?” Ryan said.
“A few guards on the roof,” Cal said. “See that row of darker windows in the middle of the main building and near the bottom?”
“Yeah, what about them?”
“They have guards there too, walking the corridors. I’m guessing spotters now, with NVGs.”
“Okay, so that way’s out. Booth, how’s your side?”
“Crawling with hostiles.”
“We’re going to have to try Tilly’s suggestion of going over the balcony.”
“Agreed,” chorused Booth and Cal.
Ryan continued to scan, watching for Black Skulls. He searched the surrounding hills and mountains. The Eyrie had been built on a plateau about the size of four football fields. Towering above it was a rocky mountain. Below it, a river. The same river they had used in their foiled attempt to flee last time. More mountains enclosed the complex in a valley. At the far end of the plateau Ryan spotted what he was searching for, a fissure in the rock, about half a click from their position.
He checked his watch. Alpha team had less than an hour before 404 was due to radio in his next report. He wiggled away from Cal and slid next to Zanzi and Tilly.
“Are you sure about this entry, Tilly?”
“Yeah. I saw the nurses smoking on the balcony all the time. They weren’t meant to be, and they used to stub out their cigarettes in the plant pots.”
Ryan raised his scope again and tried to make out the balcony that Tilly was talking about. It was difficult to see any detail due to poor light. While powerful floodlights illuminated the satellite field, radio towers and the main buildings, this side had few lights, the steep rock face giving a false sense of security. “And you’re sure it’s next to a split in the rock?”
Tilly nodded again. “Definitely. They’d let us outside to walk around when it was warm and sunny. I asked Dr. Barko why there was a split. He told me it was pressure from the rock above it. I thought he meant the other rocks were teasing it.” Tilly giggled and put a hand over her mouth. “I know that sounds silly, but it was years ago.”
Ryan spent another few minutes watching before he gave the signal. Alpha team crept forward, meter by meter, using the space blankets, which they’d painted a mottled gray color back at the silo, to disguise their body heat.
Ryan signaled for Cal to move to her sniper position.
She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Be careful,” she whispered. “Let’s both go home this time.” She kissed him again and crawled away.
Twenty minutes later Ryan and Booth, along with Zanzi and Tilly, reached the fissure. Now they were closer, Ryan could easily see the smoking balcony.
He nudged his throat mic. “Alpha team in position.”
“Copy that. Notifying control.” Cal’s voice was sharp in his earpiece.
While he waited for the go-ahead from his wife, Ryan plotted his ascent up the natural rock formation. It was narrow enough not to be too much of a bother. If he kept pressure on both his feet and hands, it shouldn’t be a problem. He looked through his spotting scope and switched the image to infrared. The balcony was ten meters above. Through the thermal image, he spotted small clouds of smoke drifting into the crisp air. Tilly had come through. There were OPIS workers up there right now, puffing away. It was always the way. Ryan had seen it in every place he’d infiltrated. Security could be tight, but workers always found a way to slack off and sneak a quick cigarette or a sip from a hipflask.
“Alpha team, workers have left. You have the green.”
“Copy,” Ryan said.
He breathed out and secured his gear. He put his right foot on the rock face and then his left hand, pushing himself up so his butt and back were hard up against the rock with his feet on the opposite side. Booth moved a couple of meters away to cover their six and flashed Ryan the go signal. Zanzi gave him the thumbs-up and coiled the rope in her hands, giving him enough slack. It had been a while since Ryan had done any rock climbing, but after a couple of slips, the old skills resurfaced. He shimmied up until he was just below the balcony.
It was a small, cantilevered deck with planter boxes long-since abandoned. Hundreds of cigarette butts stood in the soil like crosses in a war cemetery. A door with a big window was the only entry point. Bright lights shone, showing Ryan pale-green walls. He craned his neck until he spotted the stairs Tilly had mentioned. When LK3 had sent The Nameless here the first time, they had obtained some original blueprints of the satellite complex. They had shown the stairs on the outside, as a fire escape. OPIS, during renovations, had enclosed the outside of the main building in glass, and the stairs were now used by the servants. The Nameless could now use them to infiltrate The Eyrie and put an end to the madness.
Ryan activated his throat mic. “Ryan in position. Cal?”
“Hold.”
While Ryan waited, he tied off the rope he was carrying, securing it so Booth, Zanzi and Tilly could follow.
“All clear,” Cal said.
With one last look around, Ryan climbed over the railing and jogged to the door. Working quickly, he tested the handle, confirming it was locked before grabbing his picking tools. Moments later, he was inside. The stairwell was just as empty as the short hallway. Soft yellow lights illuminated the steps and floor numbers had been painted large in black.
“All clear,” Ryan said.
“Copy,” Booth answered.
Zanzi’s head appeared first. She swung effortlessly onto the balcony and pulled Tilly up after her. Booth came last while Zanzi kept an eye out for any sentries.
Once they were all in the stairwell, they crept up the stairs. Ryan had his gun trained up while Zanzi and Booth watched their six. Tilly acted as guide, using the hand signals she had been taught. In their arrogance, OPIS had ignored the young woman and allowed her access to the building to do menial jobs. Tilly had taken notice in the event she could one day escape.
“I always dreamed of escaping,” she’d told them. “Imogen and I talked about it often, but after they killed her, I stopped trying. Instead, I focused on staying alive.”
As they moved up the stairs, Ryan counted off the floors. He quickened the pace, fearful of being discovered. After five minutes, they reached the workshop floor and halted. Tilly had sworn that she had seen dozens of computers on this level. Computers they needed to complete their first mission: install Avondale’s virus so he could remote into the OPIS mainframe.
“Alpha in position,” Ryan said.
There was a long pause before Cal answered. “Copy. I’m detecting movement on the roof. Several guards moving riverside.”
Over the radio came the faint sound of helicopter rotors thumping. If the guards were moving riverside, had they spotted Sigma team?
“Cal, what’s Sigma’s status?”
“En route. Ten minutes out.”
“Warn them.”
“Done. Something has the Black Skulls spooked. I can’t get through to Beta team either.”
“No response?”
“Not for twenty minutes. I figured it was interference.”
“Any movement from the soldiers in the valley?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Keep us updated. We’re proceeding with objective one.”
“Copy that.”
Ryan moved alongside Booth. “Did you catch that?”
“Yeah. Sounds dicey.”
In truth, Ryan was worried. On two counts. They had been careful on their way inside, but it felt too easy. Bright lights lit up everything except the side they had used, and Offenheim was paranoid enough to move troops in to protect the roads and air.
“Stay frosty. They might be expecting us.”
Booth grimaced in reply and turned away, taking up his guarding position.
Ryan gestured to Zanzi and Tilly. “It could get chaotic in the next few
minutes. Are you clear on the mission?”
Zanzi nodded. “Install the virus on as many computers as we can. Find the files and get to the rendezvous.”
“Good. Stay out of sight, if possible. If everything turns to custard, forget us and leave the way we came in. Get Tilly out of here. Promise me.”
Zanzi embraced her father. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. But yes, I promise.” They stared at each other for a few moments, unspoken words exchanged.
Centimeter by centimeter, Ryan opened the door. Dull yellow lights showed a long hallway with doors spaced evenly on both sides. The emptiness didn’t concern him. It was the presence of cameras. Avondale had provided him with a scrambler he’d explained was an EMP device for cameras that worked on a specific frequency. Ryan would just have to trust him that it worked.
He slipped the device free and eyeballed the nearest camera with a blinking red light just under the lens. Seconds after he activated the device, the light turned off. How long they had before security turned up was anyone’s guess.
Alpha team darted into the hallway and jogged down its length. Much like the YamTech facility, this complex had workshops with robotic equipment. They passed labs that were building circuit boards, and others that were fabricating parts. Were they building Kumobots here too? The last room held what they were hunting for: workstations with computers.
As Ryan reached out for the door handle, Booth whistled a warning. A split second later, the exit door banged open. Two security guards, with holstered sidearms and holding flashlights, stepped back in surprise.
Ryan and Booth sprang into action, twisting away and firing bursts from their MP5s. Their aim was true, hitting both guards in the chest. They convulsed as the bullets hit them, and they crumpled to the ground. Ryan sprinted toward them to apply the fatal shot, but he was too late. One of the guards activated a distress signal on his radio.
An alarm blared out. It sounded like an ambulance siren, but at a higher pitch. Black Skulls flooded the opposite end of the hallway, blocking their escape. Ryan pushed everyone through an open door and sprinted into the main part of the building. He spun to Zanzi.
“Take Tilly. Complete both objectives and leave. Booth and I will lead them away. Understood?”
“Understood.”
Zanzi nudged Tilly and they crept down the main stairs. He said a prayer for his surviving child as the old pangs of guilt resurfaced. He had sworn not to put his daughter in any unnecessary danger, but here they were, in the lion’s den. Destiny, fate, whatever you wanted to call it, had other ideas for the Connors family.
Thirty-Four
Sierra Nevada Mountains, California
Ten kilometers north-east of The Eyrie
“Sigma team. Ten, fifteen minutes out.”
“Copy that. Alpha team are proceeding with objective one,” Cal said.
Lisa clicked off her radio and refocused on the swiftly moving river. They hadn’t seen a single person for the last ten hours. The Black Hawk had dropped them off near Upper Blue Lake and after some difficulty hauling the kayaks across the rocky terrain they had paddled in silence, making their way across two more lakes and along different tributaries to reach the right river. The Eyrie was closing in fast.
Lisa checked their position with her GPS and scanned ahead. Kamal and Brock were on point, with Sofia and her slightly behind, hugging the steep cliffs.
“Sigma team, be aware. Heavy movement near you,” Cal said.
Crack!
Kamal slumped over in his kayak. Lisa stared at where his head had been. That had been a high-powered rifle. She couldn’t pull her gaze away from the stump of jagged bone and tissue, pulsating blood. Part of his jaw and lower skull were still attached, but the rest of Kamal’s nerve center was gone.
More shots.
Something hot whistled past her left ear. Brock grunted and veered off-course. His kayak crashed into the rock face. Brock cursed and shoved away with his paddle.
“Move into the shadow!” Lisa shouted.
Crack!
Crack!
The rounds thumped into the kayak, inches from her legs. Lisa’s mind screamed for her to react, but her body was having trouble keeping up.
She saw Sofia unclip her kayak skirt and roll into the surging water, popping up on the other side so her kayak was between her and the shooter, with the rocks on the other side. Lisa snapped out of her trance and copied Sofia. They linked arms and used their kayaks as a shield. Assault rifle rounds joined the snipers’, peppering the water and sending geysers into the air.
Lisa activated her radio. “Cal. Can you do something about those shooters?”
“I don’t have eyes on.”
Lisa groaned in frustration and swiveled her head as much as she dared, looking for Brock. He was five meters in front of her, keeping his head down below his kayak. He turned, as if sensing she was looking, and gave her a slight shake of his head. Lisa knew what that simple gesture meant. He was mourning Kamal, his closest friend.
Bullets continued to peck into the rocks above them, sporadic now. So much for sneaking in.
“Alpha team. Proceed with the mission. This is our only chance.”
“On our way to help.” Cal said.
“Negative. Stay on mission.”
“Copy that,”
It pained Lisa, but the mission had to go ahead regardless of any losses. The Nameless, all of them, in fact, knew the risks. Knew what was at stake.
The river swept them around the bend, taking them out of range of the sniper who had killed Kamal. Lisa kicked her legs, catching up to Brock.
“Are you hit?”
Brock grimaced. “In the side. Went straight through.”
“I’m sorry about Kamal.”
Brock stared at her. His lips moved, but no sound came out. A tear ran down his nose, but his face showed no other emotion. In the heat of battle, there was no time to mourn. That could be done later. Right now, staying alive was all that mattered.
Brock kicked for the rocky bank. “So many of us gone now.” He clutched Lisa’s shoulder. “We’ll mourn him later. Give him the send-off he deserves,” he said.
“Are you going to be able to climb?”
Brock spat out some river water. “I’ll see.”
The Eyrie wasn’t exactly difficult to miss. Large satellite dishes covered a flat field, and three buildings enclosed the field in a U-shape. On the roofs of the buildings were radio masts and modern communications equipment for cellular and internet networks.
When LK3 had originally investigated the complex, they’d discovered it was totally self-sufficient and off the grid. It used the river, wind turbines, and solar panels for power. At the base of the steep incline was a large pumping station. An access ladder followed four huge pipes up to a second pumping station.
Lisa turned and glanced at Sofia. “Ready?”
“Let’s do this,” Sofia said. She zipped up her hooded wetsuit so only her face showed. Then she pulled down a diving mask and gave Lisa the thumbs-up.
The sniper returned. Bullets slammed into their kayaks, but either the shooters had terrible aim, or the rocky incline made it too difficult for any kill shots.
“Thank you, Brock.”
“It’s been an honor, Omstead,” the big Multnomah Indian said. Despite the rounds whizzing over them, he grinned. Two quick strokes later, he was clinging to the ladder.
Lisa and Sofia dived under the water and reached out for the grates covering the intake pipes. Everything was built on hope. Hope that the Black Skulls only saw Brock climbing. Hope that they saw the two other kayaks floating downstream. And hope that they thought she and Sofia were dead too.
Lisa adjusted the small oxygen tank known as a pony bottle. She had never got used to the air provided by diving tanks, with its weird metallic aftertaste. Sofia was already at work, cutting through the metal with an air-powered grinder especially adapted by the LK3 tech team for operations such as this. They had to be quick, thou
gh, as it also used a pony bottle, which didn’t contain much air.
Lisa joined Sofia, and within a few minutes they had cut enough steel to be able to kick the grate and bend it out. The inside of the pipe rose steeply, and algae covered the metal. Again, the tech team had provided the answer: magnetized gloves. Lisa switched them on and tested the grip. Her glove locked on and held her in place. Next, she locked the other hand, then wedged her feet on the other side. Like rock climbers ascending a chimney formation, Lisa and Sofia pulled themselves up. Inside the pipes, the crack of rifles echoed. Brock returned fire, at least, Lisa thought it was Brock. There was a pause, then more bullets were fired. Bursts of gunfire, all at once, with nothing in return. Lisa shut her eyes briefly and said a quick prayer. Then she and Sofia kept climbing.
Sigma team’s mission was to reach the communications equipment and align the radio dish so Avondale could home in. He had written a code that should kill everyone in a one-kilometer radius that didn’t have an elite status alpha nanite. The rosary beads Cordwell had given Lisa were now wrapped tightly around her left wrist. She looked at them now and prayed for her old friend. It was just her and Brock left now. She hoped. Hellcats, her old team, all but a memory.
She kept staring at the rosary as she climbed another meter, and her mind returning to when her husband had died. Brock, Kamal and Cordwell had all turned up at the funeral to pay their respects. They had stayed on and helped around the house. Chopped firewood. Fixed the gutters. Cleaned. Cooked meals. Hardly a word was spoken. As if they had known it was their company she needed.
After a week, she had begun to talk about her grief. Again, they had provided company, kind words, and consolation. That was all that had been needed. They had all experienced horror and loss. Death and tragedy. Seen fellow soldiers blown to pieces. Men staring at them in disbelief as they clutched a severed limb, as if they could just click it back into place. They had seen women and children lying dead in the road, like trash. Through all of it, they had supported each other with the firm belief in the importance of what they were doing. Why they were doing it. The Hellcats had grown close over the years. Attended weddings, births, and even deaths. As a team, they had served their country.
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