They had made it, he noted with deep satisfaction. Ghost took the last step easily and turned slowly to face the structure –
The explosion from above rolled like thunder down the steps. Tyco sprinted around the corner and stared upwards in horror. At the top of the stairway above, the smoking double barrels of a heavy, blood-spattered metal shotgun extended from the grasp of a leering soldier, the Möbius scar on his neck as grotesque as it was obvious. Ghost tottered on the top step, clutching his stomach, red blood already seeping through his uniform where his body armor had been insufficient.
The soldier was reloading, turning bloodthirsty eyes on Shelley, even as Ghost still swayed on his feet, rocking slowly backwards on the top stair.
Tyco made his choice in a split second, diving to cover Shelley, knocking him aside even as the shotgun fired again. The rounds glanced off his own armor and sent him rolling along the flat ground above.
He slid to a stop on the hard asphalt and looked up immediately, watching helplessly as Ghost’s legs gave away. He watched him fall in a wide arc, blood spilling from his wounds, legs buckling under him and then slipping from their holds on the ground below. His torso turned in a sickening spiral, away from the long staircase and over the cliff's edge, falling backwards into the waiting city below with a hollow groan on his lips.
And then he was gone, and Tyco had no time to follow him, no time to help or even mourn, because the rebel had reloaded once more. He stood over Shelley with a furious scowl, pointing his shotgun directly at the man's face. Tyco gathered himself painfully, preparing to throw himself once more, in desperation.
A hail of gunfire interrupted him, cutting down the rebel where he stood. Chip and Hog stood at the top of the staircase, guns leveled and smoking, ready to fire again at the slightest sign of life.
There was none. The soldier fell with a deflated gurgle and collapsed in a heap, riddled with bullet holes.
The plateau fell silent.
The diminished team stared at each other, at the dead rebel on the ground, and up at the structure in front of them. Now that they were here, it seemed even more enormous than it had looked from the ground: the stone carving extended all the way around the hill, dominated by two massive, thick security doors carved directly into the mountain. A long, wide highway curled tightly around the facility, cutting through a colonnade of tall stone pillars that reached up to the overhanging rock, and disappearing into the mountainside behind. There was no knowing how far back it went, no knowing how deep the facility was cut, but what they saw – clearly only the tip of the iceberg – was gigantic.
Chip’s reloading broke the silence, his empty shell casings hitting the floor with a hollow jingle. And then Shelley rose to his feet, red-faced and furious.
“Twice!” he shouted. “That’s twice, Commander, that I’ve almost been – “ He couldn’t bring himself to finish it, and took a deep breath. “If this is your idea of protection – !“
The words froze on his lips, interrupted by loud shouts from the facility. Faces, grim, dirty, and bloodied, appeared out of the dark, staring suspiciously towards them, guns raised. The rest of the dead soldier's patrol had come to look for him.
A challenge was shouted, too loud to be distinct, hurled emphatically in Tyco’s direction, followed by emphatic posturing with the guns. Tyco got to his feet with slow, restrained fury, gritting his teeth in response to the nervous rebels.
"Chip-" Tyco said, ready to give the green light, ready to avenge Ghost immediately and with interest.
A loud flapping interrupted him, the unmistakable sound of rotor blades slicing through the air. The guns pointed at them across the dark highway rustled, hesitating, and then broke away, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared, the patrol scattering up into the hillside.
And Tyco turned with grim reckoning, as if he had known all along this would happen, watching as the flapping, enormous blades of the helicopter gunship came spinning malevolently into view. Slowly, like a predator considering its prey, it rose form the city and turned towards them, its weaponry gleaming in the bright sunlight.
“One of these days…” Tyco muttered to himself, quietly.
SIXTEEN: INTO THE SILENCE
Flip awoke slowly, groggily, bloodied and dizzy. Light streamed in through the shattered windshield in front of her.
The bright greenery outside confused her. After spending half a day on the mountain, the colors of the world below were disorienting. Flies swarmed around the overturned vehicle, their buzzing sounding loud and grating over the pounding in her head. She groaned, took a deep breath, and rolled across the crumpled hood with effort, pulling herself through the window and out onto the hard dirt.
The snow around the crumpled vehicle had melted in the sun, leaving little puddles of water in their wake. The hillside above her was a mess of uprooted trees and boulders. The rocks had been dragged along by the ferocity of the avalanche, leaving long scars in the earth behind them. The truck, too, had carved a deep groove, and it showed: the hood was smashed and crumpled, the roof was caved in, and every window was cracked and shattered. The wheels, strangely, were still intact, spinning slowly in their wells. She was lucky to be alive.
She had not escaped uninjured, though: her side felt like it was on fire as she reached gingerly through the broken window for her weapons. She raised them to her shoulders with effort and stood to full height, gasping as the pain shot through her. Her rifle readout came to life, still working despite what it had been through. The beacon flashed close by, and Flip sighed with tired relief. At least she did not have far to go.
A stream gurgled ahead, rolling down the last few hundred feet of hillside and disappearing down the hill. The city lay beyond it, shrouded in a cloud of dust and smoke. Flip followed the path of the river, staggering along the water’s edge, picking up speed as she slowly found her footing.
The riverbed was soft and muddy, her boots slipping a little with every step. This close to her goal, the stinging pain that came with pulling them out didn’t slow her down, and she slogged onwards, to the end of the hill, ready to see what she’d come this far for.
Gunfire sounded ahead.
Flip groaned inwardly. There would be no element of surprise, then. She crested the hill and stared down expectantly, just as Hog and Chip emerged from the staircase, guns blazing. She saw the soldier drop, saw Ghost fall down into the city, and saw Tyco get to his feet as Shelley started shouting. She raised her rifle as the rebels spilled out of the facility, ready to ambush them in support, and then watched, perplexed, as they melted away again as quickly as they had appeared.
And then the gunship rose above the staircase, and she smiled in spite of herself.
“Oh, hell no.” She said, and brought the launcher back to her shoulder. It was barely a hundred yards to the spinning rotor blades. It would be her second point-blank shot of the day.
The gunship exploded above Tyco as the rocket knocked it sideways in the sky. He stared as it burst into flames overhead, blades still spinning with wild futility as it dropped out of the sky, roaring down towards the staircase behind him. It bounced high and then dropped, hard, scything through the pursuing soldiers viciously, slicing through their ranks. It landed, at last, in the old city streets, exploding in a fireball far below.
He looked up the hill, staring at the figure still holding the launcher. He recognized her almost at once from the drop bay. It was her, the mousey new recruit with the killer’s eyes. How she had made it this far alone, he didn’t know, but he was certainly glad that she had. Chip raised his hand in greeting tentatively. She waved back, then started down the hill towards them, limping slightly as she came.
Tyco nodded towards her gratefully, then turned away with a heavy sigh and walked to the cliff's edge.
There was no sign of Ghost below. He was gone, disappeared without a trace into the smoke and rubble of the old city. Tyco lingered for a long second at the edge of the cliff. He made a fist with his ri
ght hand, then silently tapped it against his vest pocket in tribute.
“You alright, sir?” Hog asked from behind him.
“Yeah.” Tyco answered, curtly, and stood, still looking down into the city. He brushed past her, moving quickly on to the facility. There was no time to waste.
Flip caught up with the group as they entered the colonnade ringing the facility’s main entrance. She saluted Tyco shyly as she approached.
“Nice work, Private.” Tyco nodded, with a distinct edge of gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Thank you sir.” She responded. “I was worried I was going to have to sneak in.”
Tyco smiled at that in spite of himself, but the look faded quickly as he stepped towards the sealed security door. The stone was thick, at least a foot deep by the looks of it. Bullets and explosions had marked the wall, all of them failing in their absurd inability to do much more than scratch it. The door was set directly into the stone, mounted on heavy runners that ran the length of the opening and stretched from floor to the stone ceiling thirty feet above. Tyco wondered what they had brought through these doors that required such immense dimensions, and what more still lay beyond them.
He went to work on the door. There was no keypad, and he doubted his override would work even there had been one. These doors were last-option, worst-case scenario lockdown doors, rated to a couple megatons of strategic blast force; the mountain would come down before they did. He had encountered them often on his missions, and he knew there would be no way to force them. They would need an override directly from the command post in low orbit, and he set about linking his rifle directly into the system, tapping in to start the uplink. The display whirred into action, blinking as it sent its request. Shelley watched with scornful impatience, turning his nose up at the crude technology.
“What’s your name, kid?” Hog asked Flip, by way of greeting.
“Flip.” She responded, and Hog laughed loudly, her deep, throaty chuckle ringing through the facility’s high archway.
“Who gave you that name?” She asked, finally.
“Ringo.” Flip said, smiling shyly in return. “Speaking of which, where is that bastard?”
The silence that met her question was heavy and sad. Chip shook his head slowly, scanning the open road for trouble.
“Oh.” Flip said. “Sorry.”
Hog nodded slowly, as good-naturedly as she could manage. “Hog.” She said, extending her hand.
Flip shook. Shelley ignored her, and she returned the favor. Chip turned, taking his eyes off the road momentarily, and nodded coolly.
“Chip.” He said. “I don’t shake.”
Hog snorted. “Not after you burn your hands half off on climbing rope, you don’t.” She said, and looked at Flip mischievously. “He had to have a smoke…”
Chip turned as if stung, quickly, shaking his head as he wandered away. “’least I’ve heard of deodorant…” he muttered under his breath.
Flip looked from one to the other and smiled slowly, not fully understanding.
“And the Cap I guess you already know.” Hog said, rounding out the modest team.
Flip nodded. “Is this everyone?” She said, quietly. “Everyone that made it, I mean?”
“So far.” Hog nodded, taking pains to sound carefree. “We ran into a couple on the road here, but…” She trailed off, leaving no doubt as to what had happened to Mac and his team.
“Speaking of which,” Tyco said, looking up briefly from his satellite uplink. “Where did you come from?”
“From the…uh…up in the…” Flip started, then finished, simply, pointing towards the mountain. “That way.”
Tyco smiled at her awkward greenness and checked his display. It beeped its readiness as it acquired the command signal, then started scrolling through numbers furiously as it interfaced with the door lock. It beeped in approval as the circuits took the orbital override.
A shudder rippled through the door before them. The heavy metal rocked on its runners and then gasped open in front of them. The metal doors split along a seam they had not seen before, rolling slowly open. On Tyco's display, the countdown re-set itself to 20 minutes.
“Got it.” Tyco said, and smiled at Shelley triumphantly. The door hissed as it slid along its runners, lurching open in front of them, its metal wings disappearing into the massive rock wall with a heavy groan. The interior loomed through the opening, dark and foreboding.
Tyco nodded in satisfaction, turned and cocked his rifle.
“They’ll be back soon.” He called out, in Chip’s direction. “Let’s get moving.”
Chip sprinted towards them, rushing towards the wide-open doorway with distinct pleasure.
“Looks alright.” He nodded after a cursory glance, and stepped inside.
The team followed in close order. Hog breathed a heavy sigh and stepped forwards, taking charge of Shelley, pushing him ahead of her into the dark facility.
They entered a cavernous entrance area, every inch crammed with gleaming steel and the remnants of long, wall-length computer displays, larger even than those they’d seen in Shelley’s basement laboratory in the city. They were smashed now, their displays still occasionally lighting up with random data fragments, like a dying man trying to croak out his last words. Lamps hung overhead, broken free of their moorings and swinging unsteadily, their uneven light washing over the crushed fragments of the broken world below.
There were no burn marks here, no signs of a battle – just the aftermath of purposeful, methodical looting and destruction. No table had been left upright, no monitor unshattered.
Large graffiti letters - ‘YOUR BABEL SHALL PERISH TOO’ – dripped down the walls, leering down at the troopers as they passed through.
The door closed behind them, swallowing the outside light and leaving the team marooned in the gloom inside. The lights at the tips of their rifle bores switched on, cutting starkly through the dark with their concentrated beams like bayonets.
Hog looked up from the center of the room, letting her light play around the two-story entrance in a wide circle, staring up at the sheer amount of broken technology, the gadgets and cameras and security measures stunning in scope despite their destruction.
“Can you imagine if we had this budget - ?” She asked Tyco, open-mouthed.
“You’d spend it all on tattoos and liquor, I’m sure.” Shelley snorted.
Chip cocked his sniper rifle and turned, letting it linger on Shelley for a long second, his finger playing listlessly over the trigger. “Don’t forget ammunition.” He said pointedly.
“Cute.” Shelley said, and strode past into the dark. “Keep up.” He spat at the team over his shoulder. “I don’t think you’ll get far without me.”
The destroyed entrance hall split into a series of small hallways, each one running on seemingly endlessly back into the mountain. Tyco shone his light furtively down each, feeling out the threat carefully. The marks of violence where everywhere – more destruction, burn marks, small streaks of blood. Sometimes the hallways ended in thick, closed blast doors. More often they just continued into the structure, turning by almost imperceptible degrees, the flashlight petering out before the end was reached. They could have spent a month in these corridors, Tyco realized, finding nothing, and would barely have scratched the surface of what was down here.
Shelley pushed on insistently, striding quickly over the broken equipment and down familiar hallways, moving without hesitation towards his goal. Occasionally, he gave small cries of frustration and anger at the complete, intentional, and vicious sabotage that greeted him. It was still, clearly, his facility in his mind, and he took its destruction personally.
The team followed him closely, doing their best to move cautiously while keeping Shelley in sight. In the dark passages, Shelley’s cautionary words took on new meaning: the facility was enormous, cavernous and deep, carved unendingly into the hillside, and it was hard not to get caught behind while staring down one hallway or anot
her.
Tyco stuck close to Shelley, shadowing his every step, shining his light on the path ahead.
“So, Doc,” He said quietly. “You want to tell me what we’re looking for here, huh? What does my team need to know?”
Shelley stopped short and turned to him derisively.
“Just get me there, Captain.” He said, frost in his voice. “I’ll take care of the rest.” He turned to continue down the hall, but Tyco thrust his rifle forwards, blocking the way.
“You’ve seen two men die, Doctor.” He said. “I think it’s time you tell us what we’re looking for.”
“Stand down, Commander.” Shelley said, gingerly taking the rifle barrel and pushing it aside. “I’m not the enemy.” He continued on past Tyco into the dark.
Tyco lingered behind him, waiting for Hog to catch up to him. He shook his head angrily as she came alongside.
“I really fucking hate this one.” He said, and chuckled.
“You and me both, Cap.” She responded, and grinned, casually aiming her rifle at the back of Shelley’s head. “After you.” She said pointedly, and motioned Tyco back on ahead of her.
Shelley led them out, at last, onto a high, unadorned landing overlooking a deep, hollow shaft, tunneled hundreds of feet down into the bedrock. A dull yellow light shone from above, filtering through the spotty patchwork of a partially broken glass dome that crowned the excavated mountain, and disappearing down into the dark passage below. After the gloom of the narrow passages, the sunlight, dim as it was, was a welcome change. A cool draft rose from the drop below, rushing up and washing over the team with icy, unrelenting insistence.
A ramp, etched like threading on a screw along the wall, spiraled its way down as far as the eye could see. Chip took one look at it, then at the deep drop below and frowned, realizing just how far they were going to have to walk.
“This better be worth it, Doc.” He said, without trying to keep the threat out of his voice.
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