He Was Not Prepared (Birth Of Heavy Metal Book 1)

by Michael Todd

  Andrew’s arm thumped across his chest and shoved him back against the leather upholstery. “That’d be appreciated, Mr. Jacobs,” the agent said, his tone low and civil.

  Sal gritted his teeth. “I was being sarcastic.”

  “We don’t care, Mr. Jacobs.”

  He growled softly and folded his arms. “Don’t I get a phone call or something?”

  “You’re not under arrest, Mr. Jacobs,” Jackson replied from the driver’s seat.

  “Who would you call, anyway?” Andrews asked.

  “My lawyer.”

  The agent narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have a lawyer.”

  “A lawyer, then,” Sal exclaimed in exasperation. “There’s no way that any of this is legal.”

  “Well, it’s too bad that the doctorate you want isn’t in law,” Jackson said. “Because then you’d know that everything we’ve done is perfectly, one-hundred-percent legal.”

  “Breaking down my door?”

  “Exigent circumstances,” Andrews answered smoothly. “And your transport to the airfield is required due to time constraints as stipulated in the fine print of your contract.”

  “What fine print? It was an internship.” Sal raised his voice again.

  “Yeah,” Jackson said as he eased off the highway. “You’ll definitely need to talk to the legal department.”

  Sal shook his head and tried to calm down. “The least I’d require from my kidnappers is dinner and a movie or something.”

  That didn’t draw a reaction from the two agents, and Sal finally decided to sit back and stare out the tinted windows. They stopped at an army base, the crossbar lifted after the guard checked the agents’ IDs, and they drove in. Despite the hour, the base was busy. They headed directly to an airfield where he saw an enormous Hercules airplane on the tarmac. The beast’s massive engines had already warmed up, and the back ramp was down.

  A waiting officer hurried to open his door. Sal didn’t know enough about the military to tell what rank he held, but it was probably not that high considering that he’d waited out there for them.

  “Dr. Jacobs, I’m so pleased you could make it,” the man yelled over the whine of the engines.

  “I’m not a doctor yet,” he responded, more out of instinct than anything.

  “Right,” the man said. He’d clearly not heard the protest. “The plane’s all packed and ready, waiting for you, sir.”

  Sal stepped out of the SUV and stared blankly at the massive plane. Behind him, he could hear the door shut, and the SUV pulled away. The engine revved, and tires squealed as if they were in a hurry.

  He gripped his backpack tighter and approached the plane as one might a dragon on top of a pile of gold. He stepped in cautiously and looked around, grateful that the engines seemed slightly muted inside.

  The soldier yelled into a radio, “Dr. Jacobs is on board. You are clear to take off.”

  Sal couldn’t hear the crackled response, but the door pulled up immediately. Thankfully, the deafening noise quieted a little.

  A woman in uniform approached. She was about his height, and her form filled out her fatigues well. A beret covered most of her short brown hair. She had an all-business look in her brown eyes as she offered her hand. Sal took it, and she shook it firmly.

  “Dr. Jacobs,” she began in a conversational tone, “I’m Sergeant Madigan Kennedy. Glad to have you aboard.”

  Sal pulled his hand away and surreptitiously rubbed the feeling back into his fingers. “Oh, yeah, happy to be here. I had no advance notice and was dragged out of my apartment in the middle of the night. A couple of Men in Black agents kicked my door in, but yeah, I’m happy as a fucking clam to be here.”

  Kennedy looked a little nonplussed at his statement. When the plane began to taxi, she apparently decided to simply ignore it. “We should probably strap in for the take-off.” She pointed to a couple of seats with three-point harnesses. It wasn’t much of a distraction, but since Sal was stuck there, he decided to save his complaints for when they were in the air.

  The massive engines shook the whole plane, and he felt a tug in his stomach and his ears popped. He assumed the plane’s only windows would be in the cockpit since the Hercules had a strictly utilitarian design. Passengers were more of an afterthought.

  The plane still shuddered when the seatbelt sign flickered off, but it had eased a little. Kennedy tugged her harness off and stood. She stretched with a long, drawn-out yawn. He remained seated, his expression unamused.

  “Anyway, back on topic,” Kennedy turned to him. “I’d assumed that all members of these missions were briefed beforehand, Doctor.”

  Sal raised an eyebrow. “Missions? What missions?”

  Kennedy sighed and rubbed her temples. “Goddammit, these people get lazier and lazier by the minute. Look, I’m sorry your handlers didn’t brief you. I’ll bring you up to speed as best I can while we’re in the air.”

  “Please do.”

  She drew a small tablet from her pocket, toyed with the screen, and handed it to him. The first image was a documented picture of a small, flowering plant inside a containment unit. “They are called Magnoliophyta Extraterrestrius.”

  He chuckled. “Alien flowering plant? They didn’t strain their brains on that one, did they? ”

  “Be that as it may…” He could hear the boredom in her voice, “most simply call them Pitas. Either way, these flowers have resulted from the goop’s rapid spread.”

  “Goop?” Sal asked. “What goop?”

  “Wow, they really didn’t tell you anything, did they?” Kennedy replied, annoyed.

  He raised his hands. “Did you not hear my kidnapping story?”

  “I thought you were exaggerating.”

  He chuckled. “I wasn’t.”

  “Ugh, fine.” She snatched the pad from his hands and tapped on the screen a few times. Finally, she found another page and handed it back.

  “What, did you guys run out of brochures?” he asked.

  “This is the specialized information packet that should have been sent to you after you signed your NDA,” she said. When she looked at his amused face, she rolled her eyes. “You are fucking kidding me.”

  “I was watching a news report about…this literally a half an hour ago.”

  “Fine.” She shrugged. “We’ll get you an NDA when you land. For the moment, let’s get this briefing done. What you see on the screen is what was found in an alien projectile that intelligence suggests was launched at the Earth.”

  He saw what literally looked like a sticky goo that glowed a bright, effervescent blue.

  “That is what we think was the missile payload,” Kennedy continued. “It contained about three metric tons of the stuff.”

  “Didn’t they come up with an uncreative name for this too?” he asked as he watched a video of a handful of preliminary tests run by scientists in hazmat suits.

  “I’m sure they did, but I’ll be damned if I remember what it was. It’s probably in the brochure somewhere. Anyway, it was spread over a control area in the Sahara Desert some two years ago and—”

  “Went out of control when it encountered an unforeseen biomass,” he finished for her, and she looked annoyed.

  “Do you want the brief or don’t you?”

  Sal raised his hands in surrender and swallowed his response.

  “Thank you.” He wondered how long her day had been. “Anyway, as the goop advanced at an unforeseen rate, attempts were made to control it. They met with middling success.” She played another video on the tablet of a few men in fire retardant suits with flamethrowers. The trees—which immediately struck him as unlike anything on Earth—seemed to pull back from the fire. The first line burned but the second line of trees didn’t burn at all. The fire flickered and died in seconds. Five seconds before the video ended, the flamethrowers tried to run as something burst from the undergrowth and charged them.

  “What the hell was that?” he asked.

  “The goop s
eems to influence fauna as well. DNA has been collected from these animals, but nothing has been discovered beyond what we already know.”

  Sal shrugged. “Okay, so you guys are building a wall to contain the growth. I understand that. But don’t you need architects for that?”

  Kennedy nodded. “The main mission at the base that we’re headed to is to complete a containment wall around the growing jungle, which the locals call Kudzu. You have a different mission.” She flicked to the Pita flower. “While there are many new and interesting parts of the Kudzu to explore and study, these flowers are a priority. They apparently share significant DNA with the goop, which led many of the scientists to realize that the goop is a living entity. A fluid or fungi or something, but they’re not really sure what. Anyway, these flowers are heavily influenced by it and the sap has potent rejuvenation qualities.”

  At that moment, the penny dropped. Sal chuckled and nodded. “Let me guess. This sap is insanely expensive, and companies all around the world want the very first scientifically-backed youth potion and are willing to pay top dollar for it.”

  She shrugged. “That’s none of my business. Mine is to get biology doctors like you in and out of the Kudzu with these flowers. Aside from the obvious dangers inside the jungle from the flora and fauna, there is also a booming business in surrounding countries for the animals and plants found there. Our military presence has already had skirmishes with bounty hunters and the like. It’s not sufficient to demand heavier protection, and the conditions don’t allow for heavy vehicles anyway. However, we need scientists inside, and those scientists need protection. That’s my job.”

  Sal nodded as he flipped through the various creatures that had been collected and studied. Real panic flared when he realized he would walk into the Kad-whatever and face them himself.

  Kennedy seemed to read his thoughts. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded again but didn’t look at her. In a cartoon, he’d have a green face and bulging cheeks. Nausea built in the pit of his stomach as Sal wasn’t the type for physical altercations. His quick wit had defused the bullies during his short stint in high school. Since no one in college wanted to harass the teenager doing his BA, he’d avoided conflict there as well. The most violence he’d ever experienced was in gaming voice chats on the internet.

  Even the thought of this so-called mission made him physically ill. He would be forced into a very dangerous place with a good chance that he’d walk out minus some limbs…or not walk out at all.

  He managed to gulp through the nausea and Kennedy thankfully remained silent while he recovered his composure.

  “Wow,” she said, her voice a little less harsh than before. “They really dropped you into this without any damned information, didn’t they?”

  Sal nodded again. He leaned back and gripped the harness tightly enough that his knuckles whitened. “The MIB dumbasses that picked me up said something about the fine print in my contract.”

  “Did you read it?”

  He scowled. “Of course I did. I checked it and double-checked it. There was a clause that allowed for my contract to be bought out by a third party, but who wants to buy up an intern’s contract?”

  “Wait.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re an intern? Since when do PhDs intern for anything?”

  He shrugged. “I’m still working on my doctoral thesis.”

  “Holy shit,” she said. “How old are you anyway?”

  “Twenty-two,” he answered in a monotone and fixed his gaze on the wall opposite him. “On a scale of one to ten, how fucked would you say I am?”

  She shook her head and sat down next to him. “Do you have a will?”

  His scowl returned. “That’s not funny.”

  She leaned back and closed her eyes. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

  Chapter Three

  Sal had very little sleep during the flight. The high-decibel drone of the Hercules’ four engines sounded like the world’s worst case of snoring, or maybe tinnitus. Every time he closed his eyes, monsters attacked him in an impenetrable alien jungle that did not belong on Earth or evil bounty hunters fired at him. What the hell was he up against?

  Then again, the Sahara was as alien to him as another planet. Besides that, what could a simple intern who, not half a day before, had complained about having only popcorn to eat, do against stuff like that? They could put a gun in his hands, but that didn’t mean he could shoot it. What good would he be to anyone if he couldn’t defend himself in a situation where it was every man for himself? Or herself… He was sure Kennedy could handle herself, but would she be able to protect him too? Or would she leave him behind if the situation were too hot to handle?

  Short snatches of sleep were interspersed with stark, terrifying dreams. He rushed through the jungle in what resembled a video game and struggled to reload his weapon before a panther-like monster chomped on his neck.

  Sal woke repeatedly in a cold sweat and had never felt worse. He lost track of the hours and the number of times he’d bolted from his seat in a panic, only to be dragged back by the harness. Kennedy had fallen asleep almost instantly in her seat beside him. Her head lolled to the side he could barely hear her soft snore over the drone of the plane.

  Overall, it was a seemingly endless and exhausting flight. Relief temporarily overcame his trepidation when the seatbelt sign illuminated and his ears popped to indicate that they had begun their descent. It occurred to him that they must have done an airborne refuel somewhere along the way, and most likely switched pilots as the flight was too long to only have one onboard. The plane hit the tarmac with a hard bump and his body jerked to the side. Kennedy slept through most of the landing and only woke once the craft jostled to a stop. She snorted and opened her eyes.

  “Wha—oh, are we here already?” she asked and stifled a yawn as she stretched.

  Sal wondered how she could sleep at a time like this but remembered she’d done this dozens of times. She was probably used to it.

  They unstrapped and headed to the door as it lowered.

  The sight that greeted him was enough to make him forget all his problems for a few seconds. The airfield was in the middle of the desert and sand swept onto the tarmac with gusting wind. He could see at least part of the base. A handful of buildings looked like they’d been hastily thrown together. The tallest was a radio tower with a satellite dish.

  Shadowy sand dunes loomed in the distance, and towering over them to the right, he could see the wall under construction. It looked massive and even from miles away, it was impressive. How had they managed to erect so much in such a short time?

  To the left, the dunes faded into a massive black-green smudgy clump. He couldn’t see details but knew it was the jungle. The heavily shadowed area suggested the particular dense and compact look no other biomass could replicate.

  A jungle in the middle of the Sahara. How crazy was that?

  At a nudge in his ribs, he turned to see Kennedy beside him, soaking in the sight. “Quite a view, huh?” she asked.

  She smiled and her short hair made her look tomboyish. She looked like she could handle herself, but it wasn’t an unattractive feature, he realized.

  Look at you. About to die and all you can think about is a cute girl. Typical.

  He looked away before his stare became weird and focused on the view as they exited the plane. With each step, reality crystallized within him. This wasn’t a dream he would wake from at any moment. This was reality and not the most pleasant, either.

  For one thing, he’d expected heat but had forgotten that deserts grew cold at night. The powerful winds that whipped across the runway made it worse as they cut through his clothes and sent goosebumps across his skin and shivers up his spine.

  A young man waited for them beside a number of forklifts which stood ready to unload the cargo.

  “Sergeant.” The man saluted Kennedy crisply. She snapped one in return. He offered Sal his hand. “Dr. Jacobs, I presume?”

  “I�
�m not a doctor,” Sal said automatically.

  “Er…right.” The soldier obviously had no idea what to do with that information. “I’m PFC Abel Hawkins. Mr. Jacobs, we’ve been informed of your unique situation—”

  “Do you mean kidnapped and sent to another continent against my will?” he said caustically, and Kennedy rolled her eyes.

  “Er, yes, that situation,” Hawkins said awkwardly. “Anyway. The sergeant has given us the particulars, and we have all the paperwork ready for you. It’s in the field office. If you’d follow me?”

  He led them to an open Jeep which idled nearby, obviously waiting for them. Sal was annoyed. The transport would provide no protection against the wind and the chilly temperature.

  By the time they arrived at the field office, he was shivering and looked even more disheveled than he had before. It was one of the larger buildings on the base. Only a few men and women in uniform were present, obviously security. Hawkins led them to an office that clearly wasn’t his, turned the lights on, and gathered a stack of documents on the table. He motioned for the newcomer to take a seat.

  “Let’s see.” He selected some of the papers and laid them out in front of Sal. “This is your acquired contract, with all the necessary addendums. That already has your signature, so it’s simply for your own peace of mind—”

  “Yeah, I’ll have an abundance of that here,” Sal growled. “Peace of mind.”

  The man chuckled nervously as he glanced at the other documents. “Here’s the Non-Disclosure Agreement. We do need your signature on that. Basically, it states that anything you acquire or study here cannot be divulged without the consent of the companies involved in the study and resource acquisition of the area known as the Kudzu.”

  Sal narrowed his eyes. “Why on Earth would I sign that?”

  Hawkins looked at him like he’d spoken in an alien language. “Why wouldn’t you sign it?”

  “I was taken out of my home against my will and flown halfway across the world,” he explained with increasing frustration. “Literally.”