“C’mon, Robertson, get that bastard airborne!” he ordered his fellow pilot.
After what seemed like an eternity of thrust, the big jumbo plane tilted up and lifted off the ground. It cut through the smoke of the smoldering plane at the end of the runway as if using every scrap of cover to hide its departure. Robertson didn’t make it comfortable for his passengers; once airborne, the plane went into a steep climb. The thrust from the four engines resonated deep inside Ted’s lungs.
Ted dug into his small backpack and pulled out travel binoculars. If bad guys were anywhere in the airport, they undoubtedly saw the giant plane and would certainly come to investigate where it touched down. It was perfectly flat for the mile or so to the nearest building, so he would see them coming.
“Anything?” Ramirez inquired.
He watched for a sixty-count.
“No, I think we’re good. Either there is no one at the airport, or they didn’t see us scramble down that ladder.” Ted kept watch for another thirty seconds, then put the binocs away.
“Come on, Ramirez, let’s go find a car and put some distance from this place. If someone did see us, they have good discipline. I want to get far away from here, fast.”
The other guy hopped onto a six-foot chain-link fence, made it over the top, but then fell backward on his butt when he came down.
“You can call me ER, by the way,” Ramirez announced from the ground as Ted went up and over without incident.
“Let me guess, you are the guy who’s always getting hurt?”
ER laughed. “I can’t deny I do seem to find every loose board, sharp corner, and, yes, I sometimes fall from fences when I’m sweating balls, but ER refers to my name.”
“Eduardo Ramirez,” Ted said with recognition.
“Si,” he said in a thick Hispanic accent. “I do fine assisting General Charleston, but I’m a mess out in the field. This muggy heat isn’t for me.”
Ted held out his hand to the other guy to help him up. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on the ground, too. I mostly fly planes and see trouble from ten-thousand feet.” Like most Air Force pilots these days, he’d fallen into the sand-filled ass end of the War on Terror, but he’d done more cargo hauling than bombing runs, though he’d done some of those, too.
“I’m sure my woodland elf skills will come back to me,” ER chuckled.
“You only have to be out here until 4:30 when they pick us up. Think you can hold out that long?”
“I’ll try,” the other man said with resignation.
They resumed walking in the woods, but it soon came out to a small two-lane roadway. The pavement was covered with dry, gray dust, suggesting heavy equipment often used the route.
“Which way do we go?” ER asked.
In the woods, both directions looked the same, but one side of the street seemed to have more dirt than the other, leading Ted to suspect the construction site was close. If the area around Dulles was like that of Andrews, it would mean people disappeared during the workday, so there should be vehicles they could borrow.
“This way,” he said with certainty.
Ten minutes later, he hit pay dirt.
“Is this a mine?” Ramirez asked.
Ted thought it was obvious but humored his new friend. “I see these open-pit mines all the time while in the air. They mine limestone, I think.”
They tried to engage in small talk as they walked through the huge mining complex, but they didn’t say much before events demanded attention. The open pit had a series of rock shelves around it, as if trucks used it like a spiral to get up and down. One of the giant yellow dump trucks was on its side at the bottom.
“It happened here.” Ted pointed to the wrecked truck.
Soon, they saw more evidence. A pile of clothes lay by the mine’s little office building. A company pickup truck was up against the side wall of the structure, as if it hit at an angle, giving another obvious clue the driver wasn’t inside.
“Check that one,” he said to ER, pointing to the white truck. “I’ll check for more keys inside.”
He opened the glass door and went inside. The air conditioning was on, and it felt like Heaven after the humid walk in the woods. As he predicted, there was no one inside, though their clothing was everywhere.
Ted squatted down by the remains of a man who wore khaki trousers and a white button-down shirt. His name tag said ‘Gentry Davis. Manager.’
He pulled a key fob out of the guy’s lost jeans. “I’m sorry, bud. I need your vehicle.”
When he looked up, he happened to notice a plush bench seat that was probably for waiting customers. The leftovers of a man sat on one side of the bench, and a much smaller pair of jeans and a little T-shirt were tossed next to it. The kid had a small yellow hard hat as well.
The image hit him in a strange place, like he could see the ghosts of the kid and his father sitting there watching him. Hair rose up on the back of his neck and he suddenly needed to get out of the morgue-like room.
“I’m sorry for all of you,” he said as he rushed to the door.
ER stood by the white truck. “The keys are in this one, and it starts, but it’s almost out of gas. Plus, the front headlight is busted from the crash.”
Ted pressed the key-fob. A nearby SUV beeped and flashed its lights.
“We’ll take this one. The owner…won’t be needing it anymore.”
The unknown enemy at Andrews could be heading for the White House, too. There was no bigger target in the area, if they were trying to kill prominent government officials. That made it critical to get there as soon as possible. They couldn’t risk driving damaged vehicles or fooling around with gas.
Ted climbed in the SUV but took a moment to breathe in the wintery air freshener odor. The owner probably smelled the same thing hours ago…
It felt like grave robbing, but he had his orders. It would take a day to walk to DC. The man’s truck would make it an hour-long drive. Living people depended on what he found there.
He couldn’t worry about the ghosts. Yet.
Bonne Terre, MO
Tabby knew their situation was grim, but she couldn’t tell her three friends on the boat. The odor and eye-burning chemical was still in the air, and there was nowhere to go to get further from the source. After putting on the tanks, she’d managed to get the kids in their seats, but it had already been fifteen minutes, and nothing had improved.
The aluminum 80 tanks were rated for about an hour of dive time. They might get a little more if the users were breathing steady and slow, rather than in great heaves, but she couldn’t get them to settle. Audrey was the worst; her body shook like she was stuck in a freezer.
She’d spent the last fifteen minutes thinking what Dad would do in this situation. Would he go back to the dock and get more of the tanks? It was the only logical choice, based on where she was, but the gas seemed to get worse with each minute. She could hardly keep her eyes open, and she could not drive the boat with her eyes closed.
“There aren’t really any choices,” she admitted to herself.
“Guys,” she said, “keep your eyes closed and just listen to me for a minute. The air in these tanks isn’t going to last forever, so we have to make a decision. I have an idea what to do, however, I want us to all be in on it, okay?”
She peeked to see them nodding. Her eyes burned immediately.
“I can’t drive back to the dock to get more air because I can’t open my eyes in this stuff. We might get lucky if I drove with my eyes closed, but I might also run into a wall and sink the boat. Or we’d run out of air during the journey. Plus, we have no idea what’s happening with the chemical spill. The dock might not even be there.”
She coughed, then took a drag off her regulator.
“So, that leaves us with only one alternative. We have to swim for the exit.”
Peter pulled out his breathing tube. “You said there wasn’t another exit.”
“I know. Honestly, I don’t k
now if there is. I’ve never seen it. However, my dad told me he never takes divers beyond the train because they might tell the city of Bonne Terre—” she hacked several times. “They might tell the city where it goes.”
She had to jam the oxygen feed back into her mouth.
“But you don’t know where it goes?” Peter asked in a worried tone.
She breathed in more of the good air before speaking. “It has to be an exit. What else could it be?”
The underground lake was filled with things it could be. There was a small building down there. Miles of track. Excavators. Ladders. Bridges. You name it. However, none of it matched the description Dad gave. None of those things would bother the folks at the city.
Unless it was a bomb, or something dangerous, she believed he’d found another exit. Why it would make the city mad, she couldn’t imagine, but at that moment, she didn’t care.
“Bottom line, guys, we either swim for it, or we run out of air on this boat. If we can’t open our eyes in it, I don’t think we can live for long breathing in that foul stench.”
Audrey and Donovan sobbed.
Peter seemed to hold it together, which surprised her beyond reckoning.
“We’re with you,” the flirtatious teen replied. “Just tell us what to do.”
Audrey’s crying grew in volume, so Tabby gave her a minute to settle. The truth was Tabby needed the extra time to breathe because she’d gotten light-headed. That confirmed there was no chance of waiting it out.
“It’s really easy. We’re going to hop over the side while still breathing in our tubes.”
Peter protested. “We don’t have masks, or fins. Are they on the boat?”
She coughed. “No. We don’t have any of the extras, but we don’t need them, I promise. Take off your shoes and socks. That should be enough.”
If she lived through this, she resolved to put several pairs of flippers and masks on the pontoon boat. Even Dad didn’t anticipate something like this.
The kids did as they were told, then she took them one at a time and got them to the edge of the boat. When the three of them were in a line, she squinted through one eye to turn on the wrist lights for each of them.
“Once you get in the water, you can open your eyes again. It will be necessary so we can see where we’re going. Follow me, okay? I promise you we can all make it.”
The lie rolled off easily, but there was no choice. She was risking their lives on a throwaway line her dad once said. If she took them into the mine and they ran out of air, she wouldn’t even be able to tell them she was sorry.
“Now, I’m going to give you a tap, then you fall into the water, right? Nice and easy.”
She got next to Peter’s ear. “I need you to be a man, Pete. You take care of Audrey. I’ll take care of Donovan.”
He popped out his regulator. “I will.” His voice was steeped in fear, but to his credit, he seemed willing to go with her plan.
She tapped him, and he flopped into the water.
“Ah! Cold!” he screamed.
“It’s okay,” Tabby said in a soothing voice for the sake of the others. “It’s a little chilly, but not too bad. Put your regulator in.”
Without wet suits, it was going to feel worse than it was. Plus, they were already chilled to the bone.
She tapped Audrey and kept her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Peter is going to catch you.” Her body shook with fear and the cold.
The girl leaned forward and fell into Peter’s arms with a splash.
“Okay, Donovan. It’s just you and me. Are you ready?”
“I don’t want to die down here. I want my momma.”
She instantly thought of her mom. She was probably up on the surface begging Dad to do something to put out the fire so they could rescue their daughter. If she and the kids didn’t make it, at least the boat would point people where to find them.
It didn’t help her mind to know that.
“I want to see my mom and dad, too. They’re up top, with your momma, anxious to see us again. The only way we can do it is to swim to them.” She intended to make the speech longer, but she went into a coughing fit that was hard to stop.
“Please, jump,” she croaked. “I’ll watch over you.”
Donovan said something impossible to hear because he kept his regulator in his mouth. Then, like the others, he tipped forward and went into the water.
She didn’t waste a second. Tabby jumped behind them.
It was freezing cold and took her breath away, but being able to finally open her eyes made it worthwhile.
The kids flailed in the water, but they were under the surface. She’d made good estimates with the lead weights; otherwise, they would have had to work hard to stay submerged. They already had enough going against them.
She looked down at the black narrow-gage train engine. The water was so clear it almost felt like flying above the antique piece of mining equipment. Her light focused on it because it was the most prominent feature. However, after looking at the engine for a few seconds, she guided her light to the left.
A black tunnel beckoned her.
Was it the exit, or her death?
CHAPTER 16
Newport News, VA
Kyla held the pistol in her hands, but she still didn’t know how she felt about it. The firefight was over. Carthager and the other Marines had killed the men hiding behind the boxes, and they also got the drop on those coming up from below. She figured she ought to be relieved to know that, but she still wasn’t certain these Marines were legitimate. Maybe she’d been cheering for the wrong guys to win.
“All clear below,” Carthager yelled up the stairwell.
Her ears rang with echoes of the battle, so voices around her sounded muted and distant. Her legs seemed wobbly, and her hands, which weren’t that stable to begin with, wouldn’t stop shaking. Plus, her nose burned from the gunpowder, or whatever it was, that guns fired. Was all that normal after combat?
Meechum slapped her on the back, as if the Marines majored in it. “Good job, ace. Sad that your heroics were wasted on a dead man.” She was hard to read, but Kyla imagined she really meant she’d done a good thing.
“Th-thanks,” she replied unevenly.
“Hey, don’t worry about those shakes. They’ll go away soon enough. Next time, they’ll be less of a shitter for you. Eventually, you won’t even flinch when we break out the crap sandwich.”
She sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be a next time. “I’m looking forward to getting off the ship and going back home.”
“Not yet,” the woman said with a laugh. “We’re going back down to our quarters to re-up on ammo. We blew most of it taking care of these ass-wipes. As you can see, they ate a lot of our supply.”
“We aren’t clearing out?” she said sadly.
“Sarge gives the orders. It’s cool, though. These were the guys who have been hassling us. Now they’re dead. We should have no problem moving about the boat.”
“My friend took off. Can we go look for him?”
“Hell no,” Meechum replied. “We have a mission to finish.” She walked over to a uniform lying on the hangar deck. “Do you see this?”
She nodded.
“Whatever did this, it’s out there.” She pointed out the door of the aircraft elevator lift. Far across the ocean-fed lower James River, she saw the mud flats and trees beyond. “We need to have enough ammo to take care of business.”
Kyla looked outside, wishing she was on the other side of the waterway.
“Jump if you want to,” Meechum said like it was no big deal. “We won’t stop you. However, if there are any more bad guys around, you’ll be an easy target for ‘em. I wouldn’t like those kinds of odds.”
She looked away. “Do you think you got them all? We heard lots of shooting.”
“That was probably all from us, or our other squads. We’ve been running and gunning since we left the lower levels near the bow.”
“You came up
here, and are going all the way back down?”
“Ammo, dudette,” she said dryly. “We go where the ammo is.”
“Right. Okay. You get your ammo, then what?”
Meechum shrugged. Her big, black machine gun hung on a sling over her shoulder, complementing her digitized camo, oversized helmet, and numerous pouches.
Carthager came over to Meechum and the others. “Bravo and charlie squads have secured their parts of the boat, but stay tight, people.” A few of the men kept watch; Kyla observed one by the boxes, another by the stairwell. By miracle or skill, none of the Marines had been injured or killed. “We’ll go one below, then walk all the way to the front compartments.”
Kyla worried that a whole army could have moved into the front while they’d been shooting near the back, but she retained her composure and didn’t say that out loud.
Carthager looked at her with furrowed brows. “You need me to hold onto that pop gun? You look like you’re going to puke all over it.”
She couldn’t deny she wasn’t at her best, but she remembered the feeling when those other soldiers came up the hallway. She’d fired the gun and almost certainly missed, but it might have stopped or slowed the advance. Belatedly, she remembered that she wasn’t totally worthless in the fight.
“I’ll be fine in a second. I’d like to keep this, if I can?”
The big man grinned. “We’ll make a warrior out of you. Count on it. But do me one favor: holster the weapon in your belt.” He pointed to the four o’clock position. “Put it there, assuming you’re right-handed.”
“I am.”
A faint knocking sound came from deep inside the ship, reminding her she was inside a 13-billion-dollar war machine. One little gun seemed inconsequential by comparison.
The sergeant didn’t look away until the pistol was secure in her work trousers. Almost like a parent ensuring his child was dressed properly before going out into the rain.
“All right. Meech, you want point again?”
She didn’t hesitate. “On it.”
Much like when they first met, Meechum flung herself down the stairwell to the deck below.
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