Dave stood behind him, watching the same screen. “Is that the last two pods?”
“It is if our intel is correct. We’re still waiting for the rest of the sum bitches to arrive at Los Alamos. They’ll gather there for a special tour, then be led to the tunnel that takes them to the executive rooms in the facility. We’ve got to catch them all there. We can’t risk even one of them escaping their punishment.”
Dave nodded gravely. Years of work had gone into their plan. There had been casualties along the way, leaving a blood trial directly to the DGE facility they stared at on several monitors. “Do you have the gates covered?”
“We are good to go. The snipers are in place. The movement monitors have been replaced with a repetitive feed ensuring our men won’t be seen as they make their way through the tunnels.” He shoved his chair back, knocking Dave backwards with the sudden movement.
Wesley marched to the large map hanging at the end of the wall, his laser pointer already circling areas around the facility. “We have entry points here and here with back-up points of entry over here,” the laser moved to the locations, pulling Dave’s eyes to each one. “Time to go get Rye and Bailey. I want to talk to them.”
“What if they decided not to work with us?” Dave’s voice came out an octave higher than normal. His nervousness spilled out.
Wesley’s left brow rose to an impossible height. “We had a plan in place even before they came here. I don’t give a good gawd damn, that place is coming down! Now go get our guests.”
The sound of echoing boots faded away from the command center as Dave made his way to the elevator. As much as they needed their help, Dave secretly hoped they would decline. He never wanted them involved with this part of the plan. It was far too risky. That’s why he took them to several safe houses. If this went to hell in a handbasket, there’d be instructions left behind to help them. Dave knew this would be his last act of restitution for what he’d unknowingly facilitated.
The elevator jerked to a stop. Dave took a deep breath, then walked to Bailey’s door, tapping on it.
Bailey answered it, pulling her hair into a loose braid. “Come in.”
Dave stood on the outside of the door. “Wesley wants to talk to you both.”
“Yeah, we figured that. The pods must have landed.” Bailey walked through the room, grabbing her baseball cap. She looked at Rye and smiled. “Let’s go see what he wants to say before we go, eh?” Rye winked and took her hand.
Dave gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, knowing they’d not be allowed to leave until this was all over. He couldn’t help feeling grateful for their decision to not go. It went a long way to soothe his conscience. The elevator ride was quiet, but not unpleasant. They each had made peace with their own decisions. This was a formality now.
They moved through the hallway and were met by Wesley at the end of it. “Good, good. Here you are. Come, you need to be brought up to speed.” He turned and led them towards the map.
He tapped the map. “Almost everything is in place. Two pods are still coming down. The DGE facility is on high alert, everyone doing last-minute prep for the new arrivals. Your friends have arrived and have been taken to their holding cells, but you don’t have to worry. Our insider has hidden their masks in their rooms. The gas won’t harm them. We’ll be able to retrieve them alive. The question now is if you will be joining the mission?” Wesley stood with his massive arms folded over his chest, chewing the edge of the cigar in the corner of his mouth.
Dave looked at them, then to Wesley, answering for them. “No.”
At the same time, Rye and Bailey replied, “Yes.”
Dave gaped at them and repeated, “No. You told me, no.”
“I did no such thing,” Bailey corrected. “I said, we’ll see what Wesley had to say before we went, meaning, left on the mission.”
Wesley grinned. “Damn good of you to join! It would be hell without your help. Dave, go to the lab and get their injections.”
He stood there, mouth agape and once more, answered, “No.”
Wesley narrowed his eyes, watching Dave, then slapped him on the back. “I didn’t make the rank of Five Star by not understanding my men. Relax, Dave. I anticipated your reaction.” He reached inside his pocket and withdrew a hypodermic, easing the air bubbles out of the tip. He stepped forward and injected Rye, then drew out the second filled hypodermic needle and primed it for Bailey. She stepped forward and raised her sleeve, staring at Rye. She didn’t flinch as the needle found its mark.
Dave sighed and hung his head.
A wicked gleam sparkled from her eyes. “No worries, dude. We’ve got this. We can do what it would take hundreds of your men to do. You guys just focus on the removal of the Shifters and others. Let us focus on the shit bags that did this to all of us.”
Wesley pulled them aside and went over the plan where everyone would enter and meet. He handed them their gas masks, and took the time to shake their hands.
He paused, then spoke. “You take care of your tasks and get the hell out of there. Bailey, we’re counting on you to take out the Security and Communications level. Once done, fly out of the opening up top. If you have any troubles, meet us on level four. Rye, you’ll follow the soldiers in through the tunnels. Stay as back-up with them until they can reach the elevators.”
“Wait, what? Why can’t he wait for us outside? He can Shift but has no special warfare powers,” Bailey objected in frustration.
“That’s where you’re wrong. He has powers he hasn’t used. Besides flying, he has Laser Vision.” He turned. “Rye, all you need to do is focus your attention, your vision, to a target. Think ‘incineration’ and the target will be annihilated. That simple and that final.” He slapped Rye on the back. “Lord willing and the creeks don’t rise, we’ll leave you from level four. You’ll backtrack through the tunnels and get away from the base. We’re going to level this sum bitch!”
Rye and Bailey nodded and took their coordinates to the top of the base. Wesley checked the golden watch on his wrist and slipped on a vest. Bailey noticed the assortment of grenades dangling within his reach. “Time for my ride. I’ll see you inside.” He made his way through the command center and out through the hidden door.
Dave remained quiet until Wesley left. “I don’t care what Wesley told you. Rye, drop the canisters and get away. Bailey, drop into level one and blast it. The fire alarms will sound but the sprinkler systems have been incapacitated. It will become an inferno so get out.”
He moved to a spot around the corner and grabbed a vest, cinching it on. Rye looked at him in puzzlement. “I thought you were staying here to run the command center.”
“No. It’s taken care of. Remember what I said. Get out. I’ve left information for your retrieval in the safe houses—should I not see you again.”
“Hell no, Dave. That isn’t part of the plan,” Rye growled. “We’re going to get everyone out and they need your help, your contacts to get them through all this shit.”
Dave feigned a smile. “No worries, buddy. This is only a precaution.” He waited as Rye relaxed, and nodded. “I’ll walk with you to the passageway to upside.” He checked his watch. “You should be able to shift in five minutes, giving you plenty of time after I hand over the canisters to make it to your destination, do your part and leave.”
Dave stopped at the lab and was handed three canisters in degradable bags with belt clips. He handed them off to Rye who attached them to his belt. “Time’s ticking. Get a move on.”
They hurried through the passageway to take the elevator to lead them to their mission. Only then could Dave let out his breath. He walked through the room in a daze.
The monitors on the back wall flashed a scrolling text. Level One Threat. It was T minus fifty-nine minutes until the space center blew up. With any luck they’d make it coincide with the base blowing up. Just in case, he lined the back of his vest with enough dynamite to level a section. There had never been a plan in place
for his escape. He’d make it his mission only to reach level three. He had instructed his key players to get everyone out, including Wesley. He wanted to look into the eyes of the tormentors as he blasted them away. They would be in the conference room, celebrating. Preparing for their next phase. That phase would never happen. He’d make sure of it.
Rye and Bailey entered the predawn night, lightning ripping scars across the sky. Storm clouds were briefly apparent with its light but the stars and moon hid from the onslaught above and below. Soon more would be raining from the sky—more than raindrops and meteors. The space center would become cosmic dust in less than an hour. They arrived at the drop point for Rye. He dropped the canisters into the air system, smiling at Bailey and then kissed her before saying goodbye. He slipped on his gas mask and prepared to fly off to meet his team to head through the tunnels.
Bailey watched him, then turned to blast her way through the portal to Level One. She grabbed her gas mask when with shock, it hit her. The gas mask wasn’t designed for her Shifted shape. She looked for Rye, but he had disappeared from sight. She dropped the mask by her feet and roared a thunderous roar, making even the thunder around them fade in intensity. Her flame cut through the metal portal at topside like butter, raining down in the enclosure below. She flew in, fire blazing, sending those still standing into flailing torches. She slung her head side to side, knocking out all communications.
Her eyes focused on the elevator, watching it climb from the bottom level to level four, the staging area. She envisioned the flurry of activity, herding all the personnel out of danger’s way. She leaned over, the gas tearing at her insides. Hearing the sound of a gun discharging, she looked up in time to see Rye falling to the ground. “Rye!” She lunged forward, the man hidden by the computer console stood ready to fire. With a deep breath, she lit him on fire then crumpled to the floor to check on Rye.
Chaos filled the base. Military personnel hit the floor, clutching at their throats as the gas spilled all around them. Shock registered in red eyes as they saw others running to unlock secured rooms to remove those held against their will. Wesley watched as the Level Two evacuation elevators were activated. Level Three light went off on his hand-held monitor. He smirked. The elevators for that area had been locked. The stairwells had been braced from the outside. No one could escape using the stairs from Levels One through Three. His men darted around him, opening all rooms to get those on that level out to safety. The sound of bullets careening off cement and steel filled the air. Screams of those being rescued mixed into the chaos. Even so, Wesley smiled. He knew they would save the ones worthy of saving. He was busy answering questions from his men, guiding them to finish their mission.
Dave slipped through the chaos, unnoticed. We worked his way up the stairwell, as others rushed down it. He smiled and pointed downward to the ones fleeing for their lives. His mind rolled over his careful planning. In five minutes his automatic email will be sent to his contact, leaving them the names and ways to reach Rye and Bailey for when this was over. He hoped they’d accept his recommendation as his replacement. Rye might be a bit unorthodox, but he was the only Shifter sharp enough to break through the dark web system to find him. The Shifters would need someone to guide them and help them, whether they decided to go through the process to become normal again or chose to stay as the DGE made them. He was well past the desire to force anyone to do anything again.
He reached the doorway to Level Three, its bulletproof window jammed with generals trying to get the door to budge. Surprise turned to excited faces as they saw Dave outside the door. They screamed for him to remove the blockage so they could escape. He watched them cough and even saw some drooling foam from their mouths. That gas was a bitch if you didn’t have protection. Slowly, he raised a grenade from his vest and held it to the door, driving those on the other side, backwards. He reached the lead bar, sliding it out of the brace that held the doorway shut.
“Wait!” Someone yelled behind him. It was Wesley and his guards. Dave shook his head, no. He held up the grenade and opened his vest, giving a glimpse of the dynamite he had ready to go. His yell was muffled through the gas mask, so he slipped it off and yelled, “Run!” as he pulled the pin and held his thumb over it, momentarily.
Wesley stopped in his tracks, waving his guards back. He called over his shoulders, “Get everyone the hell out of here!” He turned back to talk to Dave. “We were going to do this together, remember?”
Dave shook his head no. “New plan, Wes. They’ll need your leadership even more now. I’ve put things in motion to take care of the future. Return to the command center. Your message is there. Help Rye and Bailey take over my position. They are better suited anyway, to help the other Shifters.” Dave glanced through the window. It was now or he’d never get to tell the assholes what he thought before they all died of the fumes. Turning back to Wes he said, “Go! We’re out of time.”
Wes stared at Dr. David Sorlem, the man he called friend, and saluted him. He rushed down the stairs shouting orders as Dave opened the door, his thumb resting on the grenade. “Hello, you pieces of shit. Back up. See this grenade? That’s nothing.” He peeled his vest open showing his suicide vest. “Make no mistake, if I let go of the grenade, it is attached by this thin wire to my pack. Everything blows, got it? The first hero that goes for their gun will blow up this whole fucking place. Now, I’m going to have my say before I decide who is worthy to pass this door.”
He saw hope light up in their eyes. The pathetic fools. “Now you get to listen to what I think of your kidnapping unsuspecting people to use as your soldiers, to recreate them in your death vision. You disgust me! You, General Reichenhall, look at me.” Spittle flew as he formed his words. “I have given the tapes I found of you and your cronies, three of which I see behind you, to be delivered to the press. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, these are the tapes of you having the civilians sedated so you could enter their rooms and rape them!”
He watched the color drain from their faces, all except their eyes that were a flaming red from the gas slowly eating through their corneas. “Then, there are the tapes of you abusing the malformed experiments, burning holes in their flesh, and having an all-out bashing contest, leaving several to die in their pools of puke and blood. Take a look around you. Who among you are innocent?”
Heads pivoted, hoping to find someone they could plead with to take them out. Not a one called out their innocence. Dave glanced to the elevators they’d locked down on Level Seven. The last level to get everyone out. He wiped his nose and drew his hand away. Blood now trailing from his nostrils. He saw a gun lift behind General Reichenhall. He released the trigger.
Bailey leaned over Rye, instantly Shifting to her human form. “Rye, please wake up.” His eyes fluttered open. His hand moved to touch her face and on his way there, he pulled the gas mask off.
“No!” Bailey reached over his chest, trying to reach it.
“Stop, Bailey. Help me stand.”
She brushed the tears away and slowly helped him to his feet. “Where are you shot?” Her head followed the flow of blood.
“Nothing critical, it went through my side. Look at me.”
She fell into his pained blue eyes, waiting.
“Fly out now. You have to leave.” Rye grimaced.
“No. It’s too late for me. The gas—”
“I’m so sorry Bailey. No, I mean Karmin. It didn’t occur to me until I flew away. Your mask, it wouldn’t fit if you Shifted. I hurried back but I’m too late.”
“You should never have come back. You were safe. You might have a chance if you leave now. You can still fly, right? Get to Dave. He’ll come up with some cocktail to take care of this gas, I know he will.” Bailey, his Karmin, pleaded.
He gave her a sad look, shaking his head. “Come here. Let me hold my beautiful Karmin. I searched for you forever. I’ll not leave you now.”
Tears flooded her cheeks as she embraced him, his raven locks sticking
to her face. She shook against him, the weight of the tears making it hard to stand. The building shook as the moment Bailey’s grasp on the world seemed to fade away. Rye caught her, gasping. He lifted her to his chest and wept as he clutched her to him. He screamed out her name, the only name he ever thought of. “Karmin!” It used the last of his strength Shifting. Gorgeous ebony wings erupted, so dark they flashed a deep blue like the sky before the stars opened their eyes. He buried his face in her hair, the beautiful auburn hair that had come loose of its binding.
The floor below him rattled and shook like the earthquakes so frequent in California. He felt the jerk of the floor as it started to buckle. His wings thrust out, straining to lift them. Dust puffed all around him as walls buckled. The sound of twisting steel tore through the room. “I love you, Karmin.” He whispered into the crashing walls. “We were always meant to be together.”
The End
Epilogue
A year after the base blew, Wesley bustled around the facility in the safe house, watching the monitors flashing in the basement. His new number one helper was George ‘Lucky’ Striker, who’d been selected to take over the Shifter program. He became the liaison between them and Wesley and his team.
Wesley plopped down in a worn leather office chair, a rugged hand massaging his stubbled face. Memories flooded him of that night when they brought the base down, the same night the space center blew to pieces. The night his friend Dave sacrificed everything to make sure their plan worked. There’d been casualties, more than he’d like to count, but their sacrifices made the difference. The whole country changed after that. Then he thought of Rye and Bailey, as he knew her, but her file named her as Karmin. He unconsciously shook his head.
Her file was a troubling one. Anger boiled inside when he thought of the assholes who selected her in the first place. They had a gawd-damned whole country to pick their experiments from and they picked her. He jerked out of his chair, pacing. He went into his private office and slid behind his desk, pulling a bottle of Jim Beam out of the drawer with a glass, filling it half way. He gulped it down in one swallow, brushing his lips dry with the back of his hand. The muffled noises filtered into the office but did nothing to take away everything he knew, all that he remembered.
The Renegade Shifters Page 12
