Callsign: Knight - Book 1 (A Shin Dae-jung - Chess Team Novella)

by Robinson, Jeremy

  The creature loped forward on all fours, running like a mountain gorilla. The fact that the beast didn’t seem to fear them at all and was charging into a nest of highly trained and heavily armed commandos didn’t fill Knight with very much confidence at their chances of survival. But he’d always agreed with Wayne Gretzky when the hockey legend said that you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.

  Instantly and instinctively adjusting for wind, distance and speed, Knight took a breath, pushed it out, and squeezed the trigger. The rifle bucked, and the massive bullet sliced a path to its intended target. In a spray of red mist, the impact struck the creature, halting its headlong charge. Through the scope, he could see the bullet wound blossom in its neck. The trunk-like legs fell out from beneath the beast, and its momentum carried it forward, skidding across the pavement of the parking lot.

  The SAS team cheered as they witnessed the shot through their own scopes. He ignored them and refused to breathe while scanning the creature for movement. It lay still for what seemed like a long time, and he allowed a small hope to creep into his mind.

  The feeling evaporated, however, as the beast began to twitch. Within a few seconds, it pulled itself to its feet and shook its head from side to side like a dog that had just run into a sliding glass door.

  The group fell silent as the beast continued its charge. He stood up and pressed the button to close the garage door back down. Donahue appeared at his side.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Donahue said in a whisper.

  Knight chuckled. “Welcome to my world.”

  16.

  Knight dropped the XM500 sniper rifle onto the table, shook his head in disgust and turned to Donahue. “Major, you need to have your men hold that thing back for as long as they can with whatever they’ve got.”

  Donahue didn’t question him and started calling out orders to his men. Once in position, he yelled for the men to fire at will, and the loading bay filled with the sound of gunfire and spent shell casings striking concrete. The SAS soldiers were calm and professional, firing in short bursts to conserve ammo and slow the creature’s progression.

  Knight grabbed Donahue by the elbow and pulled him back to a spot behind a stack of crates that partially shielded them from the cacophony of fire. “We can’t put a stop to this little science experiment with that thing on our asses at every turn.”

  Donahue shook his head and spat more brownish liquid onto the floor. “There must be a way to kill that thing.”

  “Unless you brought along a tactical nuke, I think we’re SOL.”

  Donahue cocked his head to the side. “What’s SOL?”

  “Shit out of luck.”

  “Right. If we can’t kill it, how about trapping and containing the beast?”

  Knight squeezed his eyelids together and rubbed at his temple. “That’s a good thought, but the creature is incredibly powerful. Even if we could trap it somehow, where would we hold it? Do you have air transport out of here? Maybe we could re-equip and come back with a plan?”

  “Sorry, mate. We parachuted in, but the Americans were going to bring an Osprey for aerial support.”

  He thought back on the way his day had begun and the Osprey spinning out of control and plummeting toward the ground. “The Osprey is out of commission. Trust me, I was on it when it went down.”

  Donahue cursed under his breath, but then his face lit up. “We might not have a nuke, but if we can make it to that Osprey, we might have the next best thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  Before Donahue could answer, Beck ran up and said, “We’ve lost sight of the creature!”

  Donahue spun toward the perimeter. “What do you mean you lost sight of it? Where the hell could it have gone?”

  Knight saw the next few seconds pass in slow motion.

  Beck’s eyes were wide with shock. She shrugged her shoulders, showing that she was just as confused as Donahue. Then the skylight above their heads crashed inward, glass exploding down all around them. A dark shape fell through the hole in the ceiling amidst the rain of shattered glass.

  17.

  The beast dropped the forty feet to the ground. Knight not only heard the crunching of shattered glass as the monster struck, but he also heard the cracking of the creature’s bones. It howled and fell over on its broken legs. But within a matter of seconds, it was back on its feet.

  The SAS commandos wheeled around and opened fire. The beast didn’t seem fazed by the barrage of hot metal. It rushed forward and tore into the line of soldiers.

  The distinctive sound of the AA12 filled the air as Beck pushed the creature back. It toppled over and careened into a stack of crates. But Knight knew that it would only buy them a few seconds. He grabbed Beck by the arm and called out to Donahue. “Pull your men back!”

  He pointed Beck toward the loading bay door. “Open that up. I’ll grab one of those.” He gestured toward a pair of tan HMT 400s resting along the back wall. The strange-looking vehicles were the primary troop transport used by the SAS. They reminded Knight of small fire trucks with no front glass and guns mounted on top instead of hoses.

  Beck nodded and ran off toward the bay doors while Knight sprinted over to the transports. He knew their only hope was to outrun the creature, and despite the HMT 400’s bulky appearance, the vehicles were fairly agile and capable of speeds in excess of fifty miles per hour.

  He ran amid the deafening sounds of gunfire. The bright flashes in the darkened space sliced into his eyes, white spots filling his vision.

  He tried to ignore the screams of the SAS soldiers as the creature tore them apart. He attempted to keep his mind focused upon the task at hand, but the sights and smells of the warehouse that had contained the bodies of the American team kept appearing within his mind’s eye. An odd sense of guilt washed over him that he had failed to spare the SAS group of the same fate.

  Hurdling obstacles, he cut through the confusion of the attack to reach the vehicle. It was just in front of him, and he reached to grab on and pull himself into the HMT’s driver seat.

  But a giant shape fell in front of him, knocking him back.

  The creature stared down at him with fire in its eyes. Again, the beast seemed strangely human. It seemed to have realized that he had caused it a great deal of pain and was ready to return the favor.

  It backhanded him across the room like a rag doll.

  He slammed into a stack of nearby crates. The pain exploded in his mind, but he fought to regain his feet. He looked up to see the beast charging at him and knew that it would be on top of him before he could stand. Instead, he kicked his legs and tried to back away on his hands and backside. He rolled his legs up just as the creature pounded the concrete in front of him. The impact shattered the concrete and sent him rolling away.

  He hadn’t even gained his bearings by the time the creature was on him again. He felt the beast’s fist clamp onto him like a vise, its talons slowly digging into the meat of his shoulder.

  It lifted him from the ground and pulled him close to its fang-filled mouth. It roared with satisfaction. He could smell the rank stench of death on its breath as it stretched its jaws wide and moved in for the kill.

  But then, he recognized the all-too-familiar blast of a .50 caliber rifle and felt himself falling as he watched the beast’s head jerk to the side in a spay of blood. He rolled as he hit the ground and stumbled forward, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the creature’s bloodlust.

  His legs felt heavy, and the world spun. He fell to his knees and looked up to see Beck fire another blast from the XM500 rifle. Then, Donahue and one of his men were at his side, lifting him from the floor. He shook them off and grabbed his FS2000 from the table.

  Donahue said, “Retreat! Fall back into the mall!”

  They scrambled through the docks toward the customer section of the mall. Donahue kicked through a doublewide loading door, and Knight and Beck followed on the man’s heels. The r
emaining SAS soldiers were close behind. Knight could hear the sound of suppressing fire coupled with screams as the spec ops team fell one by one.

  Calming grays and whites complemented the side of the mall that would one day be seen by the world. Three open stories stretched above their heads, and there were spots reserved for fountains and fancy displays. But the fountain was empty, and the displays were non-existent. A warren of stairs and escalators stretched to the sky. The stores were hollow white shells of glass and drywall. Knight was amazed at the wastefulness of the whole city. What kind of a government would build empty cities to falsely bolster an economy built upon the backs of the poor?

  Donahue urged the group forward. Knight heard roaring behind them and turned see the front of a store burst inward as the creature threw one of the SAS soldiers through the plate glass. He grabbed the XM500 from Beck and blasted a round into the creature’s skull. It crashed backward, destroying the front of another empty store.

  They ran forward as fast their legs would carry them, curving around bends and forks in the path and heading toward the front of the mall. But the place was huge, and it seemed like they’d already run for miles. He had conditioned his body into a finely tuned machine, but even Knight could feel the fire in his legs and the burning of lungs that begged for air. They couldn’t keep this up much longer.

  Then the front entrance loomed ahead, and they were pushing their way into the open air. He didn’t dare glance over his shoulder. He could almost feel the creature’s hot breath on his neck, and he prayed that it was only his imagination.

  Ahead, Beck called them toward a manhole cover in the street. “Help me!” she screamed.

  Knight, Donahue and the last of the SAS soldiers grabbed hold of the cover and willed their remaining strength into pulling the heavy metal free from the ground. The others started to climb down, and Knight turned back to the front of the mall.

  The mall’s face was two stories of shimmering glass surrounded by shrubbery and brick. Before Knight’s eyes, the glass burst outward. The upper panels cracked and fell from their supports. The pieces of shrapnel erupted everywhere, and he shielded his eyes.

  The beast stood where the glass had been. It threw its arms out to the side and bellowed at its fleeing prey.

  Then, it charged.

  Donahue and his man were already on their way down the ladder, but Knight knew that he and Beck would never make it if they took the time to climb down. Time for the express elevator, he thought. Knight wrapped his arms around Beck and jumped into the hole as the beast skidded over the opening.

  The pair landed upon the two SAS commandos, and they all fell together in a heap on the sewer floor. Knight gained his feet and pulled them back, just as a clawed fist swiped down through the opening above. The creature slashed back and forth and stretched out after them. It jammed its head and arm down, but it couldn’t fit its enormous, muscular torso through the opening. It shrieked at them in rage. Then, the creature pulled its bulk back from the opening and disappeared.

  The four of them stood there a moment, leaning against the sewer walls and trying to catch their breath. Donahue leaned over with his head in his hands. “If I would’ve listened to you sooner…” His voice trailed off.

  Knight shook his head. “It wouldn’t have made any difference. There’s nothing we could have done.”

  Donahue looked to the sky. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Come on,” Knight said. “Let’s get out of here before it finds a way down.”

  They set off through the sewers in the direction of the downed Osprey with Knight taking point and Donahue watching the rear. As they passed under the next manhole cover, a beam of light burst down on them.

  A giant talon followed through the hole as the creature shrieked and slashed at them.

  Knight flopped to the ground as the clawed fist fought toward him. It grabbed onto the ladder and tried to yank itself through the opening. Its red eyes looked down at Knight, and their gazes locked.

  It stopped its shrieking, and its mouth peeled open to reveal rows of razor sharp fangs. Saliva dripped down from the hungry maw. It slowly raised its arm back through the opening, but it continued to stare down at him. He could feel something being passed between them. It wanted him to know that this was far from over, that it would kill him.

  He stared back at the beast and matched its animosity. This thing had taken the lives of good soldiers, and he wanted its head as much as it wanted his blood. He gave the beast a two-fingered salute. It snarled back and then disappeared.

  18.

  Salvatori surveyed his handiwork. It was a shabby patch job, but it didn’t really matter as long as it worked. The small device resembled a garage door opener with large flat button and a slot on its back where a clip could be inserted to allow it to attach to a belt.

  He pointed the device at the door to his cell and held his breath. If it had been damaged beyond repair and didn’t function, he knew that he would have no choice but to give Cho what he wanted. He had no illusions that he was tough enough to withstand the kinds of torture that a mind like Cho’s could dream up. He would crack, and the world would die along with his resolve.

  He knew that Cho wouldn’t recognize that the remote for his cell’s locking mechanism was missing until the next time he returned. The door automatically locked when it was closed, and Cho had already opened it from the inside when Salvatori stole the device from the younger man’s jacket pocket. The maneuver had been expertly choreographed; he had spent plenty of time alone in a cell considering how to best accomplish the deed. He also suspected that Cho’s mind was too burned out from all of the drugs to allow for rational thought.

  He closed his eyes as he pressed the button. His heart seemed to stop as there was no sound for a second, but then a small click of the mechanism signified his deliverance. He breathed a long sigh of relief. Emotions overwhelmed him, and he nearly wept. But he didn’t have the luxury of savoring his new found freedom. Now was not the time for celebration; it was the time to set things right.

  19.

  There was no sound within the sewers or on the streets above, and they only had one small flashlight between them. A pale halo of illumination lit the path ahead. The air was moist but stagnant. The sound of their movements bounced off the tile walls and created the illusion of footsteps at their backs. Their voices echoed down the tunnel, and they spoke in hushed tones for fear that the beast would track them by the noise.

  Knight found the sewers oddly clean. But he supposed that he should have expected that, since hardly anyone other maintenance workers had ever lived in the city. “So Donahue,” he whispered. “You mentioned that we might have the next best thing to a nuke. If you’ve got some kind of plan, now would be a good time to share.”

  “I don’t know if I’d call it a plan, but if we can get to that Osprey, we should find a little something to even the odds.”

  “I checked the weapons hold, and there wasn’t anything there other than small arms.”

  “This little toy is mounted under one of the wings, not in the hold. We didn’t know what kind of enemy base we would encounter out here, so we asked the Americans to bring along the ultimate bunker buster. A thermobaric warhead.”

  Knight was familiar with thermobaric weapons. They were powerful explosive devices that used a two-stage detonation process. The first stage blew the casing of the bomb and released an explosive chemical vapor into the air that expanded out and filled all the surrounding space. Then, the second stage ignited the accelerant and flash-fried everything within the blast radius. The explosion literally set the air on fire. The final effect was a massive concussion wave that would crush anything that hadn’t been turned to ash. Thermobaric warheads were the most powerful non-nuclear weapons in the U.S. arsenal.

  It would surely be enough to kill the creature. There wouldn’t be a single cell left to regenerate. But there was a problem.

  “It would do the job,” he said, “but the EMP at
tack that took down the chopper would have fried the warhead’s electronics. Without the detonator, it’s just a big paperweight.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. If you can get me there, I’m pretty sure that I can make it work.”

  “Pretty sure?”

  “You have any better ideas?”

  “I was giving some serious thought to bugging out and heading to the beach with Beck, but I suppose we could give the warhead thing a shot.”

  “I don’t know,” Donahue said. “I wouldn’t mind seeing her in a bikini.”

  Beck stopped dead in her tracks and glared back at the pair of them. “If you two Don Juans think that creature is a force to be reckoned with, then you’ve obviously never seen me pissed off.”

  Donahue raised his hands in mock submission and moved back with his man. Knight moved up and walked with Beck. “From what I can tell, no one has seen much of you over the past few years.”

  “You’ve looked?”

  “I might have Googled you once or twice.”

  Beck grinned. “I’ve kept a low profile. I think you know why.”

  “Actually,” Knight said. “You have no reason to hide.”

  Beck turned a curious eye toward him.

  “The events at Manifold Alpha are classified. Chess Team has taken over the facility. Ridley topped the most wanted list for a while, but—”

  “Ridley survived?”

  That’s right, Knight thought. The last time Beck saw Ridley, he’d flung himself from a helicopter several hundred feet in the air.

  “He’d taken the serum. He survived the fall and a whole lot more. We caught up with him, though.”

  “Where?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”