These were the most important prisoners taken by the resistance, members of the Project who were deemed both dangerous and potentially useful. Normally, the only time someone passed through the security door would be to question one of the prisoners, or deliver the meals. It was, without a doubt, a boring job, but one he and his fellow guards knew was important.
At the moment, though, his mind wasn’t on the prisoners or the potential death of billions. He was thinking about the beer waiting for him upstairs and the basketball game that was already recording on the receiver in his room.
Bwhap—bwhap—bwhap.
He jerked as the alarm sounded, swiveled to the left, and checked the computer monitor. As it was supposed to do, the detention wing door had locked down. He glanced through the Plexi wall at the guards on the block. They were taking their assigned positions in front of the occupied cells.
Per procedure, he checked his weapon, and repositioned in front of the elevator that led up from the subterranean detention area to the main building of the Bluff. If the doors opened, he and the two guards who would be joining him from the control room would deal with whoever might step out.
Bwhap—bwhap—bwhap.
He guessed it was probably just another false alarm. They’d had them a few times before. Real problems, on the other hand, never occurred at the Bluff.
Bwhap—bwhap—bwhap.
The persistent alarm was loud enough that he didn’t hear the door to the control room open behind him, but even if he did, he would have only thought it was the other guards heading his way.
Unfortunately for Taylor, he would have been wrong.
IT WAS AMAZING how easy it was. Murphy’s contact had said it would be, had told him the resistance would never suspect the attack to come from within. Under the man’s guidance, Murphy had practiced everything over and over until each move was automatic, natural.
He had watched the guard stationed at the door to the detention area check the status of the door, then head over to the elevators. As soon as the man was in position, Murphy exited the control room.
Holding a second container of the dueling liquids, he walked toward the guard.
TAYLOR FINALLY HEARD the footsteps when they were only a few feet away. Since the lights beside the elevator door indicated the car was still at the top, he looked back, but instead of seeing one of the expected guards, it was a member of the monitoring crew.
Murphy? Maybe. It was hard to tell because the guy was wearing something on his face.
“Where are the others?” Taylor asked.
“Not coming.” Murphy’s voice was distorted by the thing over his mouth.
“What are you talking about?”
As he spoke, Taylor began to sense that something wasn’t right, but he was already too late. Murphy was flinging something at the floor by Taylor’s feet.
Taylor raised his gun. “Don’t move.”
“No problem,” Murphy replied.
“What was that? What did you…”
Taylor suddenly felt like he was losing his balance, the world around him becoming a blurry, vibrating mess. The next thing he knew, Murphy was holding on to him, gently lowering him to the floor.
“Don’t fight it,” Murphy said. “You’re not going to win.”
Taylor stared at the other man, trying to see him clearly. “What…wha…”
The rest of the question was lost forever as he took his last breath.
THE YOUNG COUPLE known as Adam and Eve had been joined by six others. The assault group moved in as soon as Murphy radioed. Within ninety seconds, all eight were standing at the front door of the Bluff.
There should be only four more guards in the main house, none currently expecting any trouble. The four who had come looking for them had all been permanently eliminated, as had the three who had been sent out to check the problem with the fence.
“Like we drilled,” the woman—Karie—instructed as they reached the front door.
Gleason unlocked the door with the keys he’d taken from one of the guards, and pushed it open. No gunshots. No feet pounding toward the entrance. No voices shouting at them.
Quietly, they slipped inside. Within three minutes, the four remaining guards were all accounted for and dealt with. The team reassembled in the lobby where Karie, after a quick look at the map of the house’s layout, said, “This way.”
JANICE HUMPHREY had been asleep in her room upstairs. It was early, but she was suffering from a cold. That was the only reason she was at the Bluff at all. She and her husband, Michael, had been called to the Ranch for a meeting, but Michael had insisted she stay and he would fill her in later.
So, drugged up with cold medicine, she had slept the afternoon away, and was surprised when she finally woke to see that it was starting to get dark outside. She was just grabbing a tissue when her door opened, and Robert Lieber, one of the Bluff’s security officers, ran inside.
“Out the window,” he said quickly.
“What?” she asked, thinking she wasn’t hearing correctly.
“There are hostiles in the house!”
She stumbled off the bed. “How did that happen?”
“I don’t know, but we don’t have time to talk about it. Ma’am, you need to go out the window and hide on the roof. They won’t look for you there.”
Even with a head slowed by a cold, Janice got his message. She ran over to the dormer window and threw it open. A cold blast of air hit her in the face. All she had on were the sweats she’d been sleeping in. They weren’t going to be enough.
Lieber seemed to sense this, too. He ripped the top cover off the bed and shoved it at her. “Take this. Now go, hurry!”
The roof outside Janice and Michael’s room had a gentle slope, but losing her balance was a very real possibility in her condition. If she did, the only thing that would stop her descent was the ground. She held the window frame tightly as she climbed out into the growing twilight.
“Try to get above the window. They won’t look there,” Lieber suggested. “But once you’re settled, don’t move around.”
“Aren’t you coming with me?”
“My job is to try to stop them.” He pushed the rest of the bedspread out the window after her.
“They’ll kill you! It’s not worth it.”
“Please,” he said. “Go.”
Then she understood. It wasn’t the Bluff he was trying to protect. It was her. The bedroom had obviously been occupied. The intruders would have to find someone there.
“Go!” he repeated.
With a sense of helplessness, she did as he told her, working her way above the dormer, then lying against the roof.
Lieber, no doubt to mask the cold air in the room, left the window partially open. Because of this, she could hear the door to her room open, and the gunshots that followed. A moment later, the window opened all the way again. From her vantage point, she could see the back of someone’s head looking out. As much as she hoped it was Leiber, she knew it wasn’t. He would have called to her, let her know it was okay.
After several seconds, the window shut all the way, and the light in her room went out.
BWHAP—BWHAP—BWHAP.
The detention area was the trickiest part. As simple as it would have been to toss the remaining container of toxin through the door, the cells were not airtight, so there was a very good chance the detainees would have been killed, too. Four of them wouldn’t have mattered, but if the fifth had died, it would have defeated the entire purpose of the mission. For that reason, the detention area was going to be up to the strike team.
Murphy glanced through the Plexiglas wall to the other side. Of the five guards, four were standing in front of their assigned cells, their eyes forward. The guard closest to the wall, though, was looking in Murphy’s direction, clearly confused. Murphy’s job now was to sell that this was only a medical emergency, not some forerunner to something more disastrous.
He knelt beside the dead guard, pretend
ing first to take his pulse, then talk to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the lights for the elevator indicate it was moving down. When the car was approximately ten seconds from arriving, Murphy jumped up and ran over to the phone at the guard’s desk near the door. As he’d hoped, the curious guard’s gaze followed him, so the man did not see the elevator doors open.
Murphy, on the other hand, was positioned perfectly, and saw with more than a little relief that it was the strike team, not Bluff security. Three canisters billowing smoke slid into the room. Within seconds, everything on Murphy’s side of the Plexiglas wall was hidden.
Murphy held his position as the others made their way to him. In addition to the gas masks they were all wearing, each had a pair of thermal goggles that allowed them to see heat signatures through the smoke. As he knew she would be, Karie was in the lead.
“Any problems?” she asked.
“None. You?”
“All secured. Door unlocked?”
He nodded.
Karie and four members of her team positioned themselves in the smoke a few feet from the door. A sixth man stood next to the handle.
“Everyone ready?” Karie asked.
The men standing with her raised their guns, each pointing at a different target they could see with their special gear. Karie lifted her own pistol.
“On three. One. Two. Three.”
As she spoke the last word, the man at the door pulled it open, and the five holding guns opened fire.“Hold,” Karie said three seconds later, but it was unnecessary. None of them had had to take more than two shots. The guards, unable to see the shooters because of the smoke, had no idea they were being targeted.
With Karie still leading, Murphy and the strike team entered the detention area, the last through shutting the door to keep the excess smoke from billowing in.
Karie pulled her goggles off and looked at Murphy. “Which one?”
“Over here. Number eleven.” He led her to the door of cell eleven. “It’s open.”
“Wait here,” she told everyone, and pulled the door open.
OLIVIA SAT ON the edge of her bed, watching the cell door. For the longest time it remained closed, but she was patient. She knew these kinds of things took time.
The question running through her mind was who, exactly, was coming. She knew for sure someone was. She’d been left a message telling her that much.
When she heard the guard standing outside her cell slam against the wall and slide to the floor, she allowed herself a smile, but when the door opened a moment later, her face was once more neutral.
The light from the outer area was brighter than it was in the cell, so at first all she could see was the silhouette of a woman. It wasn’t until the door closed again that her visitor’s face emerged from the darkness.
“Hello, Karie,” Olivia said.
“Olivia.” Karie took a few tentative steps into the room, then stopped. “Have…have they treated you well?”
“Three meals, a bed, TV when they’re feeling nice. Well enough, I guess.”
The women silently studied each other.
“So,” Olivia said. “Who sent you? The directorate? Dr. Karp?”
“Dr. Karp is dead.”
Olivia cocked her head. “When?”
“Last spring.”
“NB7?”
Karie’s brow furrowed slightly. “Yes. How did you know?”
Olivia shook her head like it wasn’t important. So the help she gave Ash had worked. It would have been nice if someone had told her. “The directorate sent you, then.”
“I’m…no longer with the Project.” Karie gestured at the door behind her. “None of us are.”
It wasn’t often that Olivia could be surprised, but she was now. “So, you’re here to….”
“Once you were gone, the Project lost its most important voice. We all mourned your death. Some of us more than others. Then, a few months ago, word got around that you were still alive. We thought the directorate would immediately attempt a rescue, but they did nothing. There were several of us who found that unacceptable, and decided to do something on our own.” She held out her hand. “So we’ve come to get you out. After that, whatever you want to do, we’ll follow.”
“You sure about that?”
“One hundred percent.” There was no hesitation.
Olivia took Karie’s hand and pulled herself up. “Then I guess it’s time to go.”
Nine
PAX WAS WAITING next to an old station wagon at the Ranch’s private airfield when the jet carrying Ash and his kids rolled to a stop and the door opened. Ash zipped up his jacket and scooted his kids toward the exit.
“Hey, Uncle Pax,” Brandon said as he bounded down the stairs. He was starting to grow out of the hugging phase, but allowed Pax to give him a hearty handshake.
“How ya doin’, Brandon? Great to see you.”
Josie was next.
“My God, girl. Your dad’s going to have to lock you up soon to keep the boys away,” Pax said as he gave her a hug.
She scoffed and shook her head, but her dad, who was following right behind her, knew she loved every word of it.
Pax held his hand out to Ash. “Good to see you, Captain.”
“You, too.”
Ash had tried for a while to get Pax out of the habit of calling him Captain, but it had been less than successful. Now Ash barely noticed.
Once Tom and Pat secured the luggage to the station wagon’s roof rack, all six of them jammed inside.
As they rode to the Lodge, Ash asked, “How long do you think we’re going to be here?”
Pax shook his head. “Oh, I don’t know. That would be—”
“—a Matt question?” Ash finished for him. It was one of Pax’s stock answers.
“If you knew that, why did you ask me?”
Ash shrugged. “I’m hoping one of these days you’ll actually tell me something.”
The older man looked over, his brow furrowed, and they both chuckled.
After a few seconds of quiet, Ash said, “Seriously, the kids have school, you know? I don’t want them missing too much.”
“Don’t worry. Rachel’s lined up someone who will make sure they don’t fall behind.”
“That doesn’t sound like you’re planning on this being a short stay.”
“Didn’t say that. A little help never hurts, no matter how much time’s involved.”
Pax was a master at playing the runaround game when he wanted to, so Ash decided it was best to wait until he saw Matt.
“I thought there’d be more snow,” Brandon said.
Ash glanced outside. Here and there were patches of the dirty white stuff, but most of the ground was bare.
“It’s a little late this year,” Pax told him. “But don’t worry, we’re supposed to get some in the next day or two.”
Brandon leaned forward. “Really? If we’re still here, can we have a snowball fight?”
Pax scrunched up his face. “This time of year, snow’s usually not wet enough to make a snowball.”
“What do you mean, wet enough? It’s frozen water.”
“You’ll see.”
Soon the main part of the Ranch came into view. Closest and just to the left was the dormitory. It was two stories tall, with stone surrounding the bottom and pine above that. When Ash had stayed there the first time he was brought to the Ranch, he’d felt like he was the only one in the whole building. This time he could see half a dozen people outside near the main door, and more through windows of some of the rooms.
Beyond was the Lodge. It made the dorm look like an outhouse—five stories aboveground, and four below that Ash knew of. With a bit of snow still clinging to the shaded spots in the valleys of the massive roof, the Lodge looked even more like it should be sitting at the base of a ski run instead of here in the middle of…
Well, Ash still didn’t know where the ranch actually was. Colorado or Wyoming was his best guess. The nearby moun
tains in the west looked very much like the Rockies, but every time he’d flown in or out of the Ranch, the automatic shades had been closed on the jet’s windows during most of the flight.
As they pulled up to the Lodge, Rachel and the chef, Bobbie, came out to greet them.
“Look at you kids,” Rachel said. “It’s only been a few months and you’re both at least an inch taller.”
“You think so?” Brandon asked, hopeful.
“I’m sure of it.” Rachel gave him a hug, then held her arms open for Josie, who, after a moment’s hesitation, allowed Matt’s sister to wrap her arms around her. “And how are you doing, Josie?”
“I’m fine.” The response was automatic.
Rachel put a hand on each of the kids’ shoulders. “Why don’t you two go with Bobbie? She’ll get some dinner for you.”
“Pizza?” Brandon asked.
“If you want,” Bobbie said.
Josie glanced warily at her father. “What about Dad?”
“We’re going to go have a little talk, and he can join you later,” Rachel told her. “Josie, if you want, you can go check out the library after you finish eating. We’ve got some new books I think you’ll like.”
Ash could tell his daughter saw through Rachel’s attempt to distract her. Josie was smart, something Ash knew she must have inherited from her mother, because he’d never been that smart at her age. She had also grown up so much since that night at Barker Flats when their lives had changed that there were times when she was more adult than teenager. It killed Ash whenever he saw that. He wanted her to be a kid as long as she could and enjoy growing up, but in the back of his mind he knew that possibility had died with her mother, with Ellen.
For a moment, he was sure Josie would call Rachel out on the ploy, but she nodded and said, “Okay.”
The whole group entered the Lodge, and Bobbie headed to the kitchen with the kids.
Once they were gone, Rachel said, “We’re down in the Bunker.”
THE ROOM ACROSS the hall from the communications center was set up with several rows of folding chairs all facing a large flat-screen TV hanging on the wall at one end. Standing just to the side of the monitor beside a small desk were Matt, Billy, and Michael Humphrey. Billy was the Ranch’s doctor and all-around medical expert. Michael’s duties were a little harder for Ash to pin down, as he seemed to be involved in several things. There was no one else present.
The Project Eden Thrillers Box Set 1: Books 1 - 3 (Sick, Exit 9, & Pale Horse) Page 34
