by J. P. Sumner
Serves them right, if you ask me.
I glanced up at the TV on the wall. It was showing the news. A woman in a red suit jacket and white blouse was sat behind the desk, with a picture of a large house behind her. The headline at the bottom of the screen said "MANSION MASSACRE". I raised an eyebrow.
As a waitress walked past, I asked her to turn it up, which she kindly did. The woman on the TV was in the middle of her report.
‘...in the early hours of this morning. It’s been confirmed that the deceased include local businessman and suspected crime boss, Roberto Pellaggio. His body, along with several others, were found in the mansion. Police have no suspects at this time, but sources close to the investigation have said that, based on early forensic evidence and details found at the scene of the crime, it’s thought the mass slaying was a mafia hit, carried out by a team of professional killers. Detectives are waiting to question the one survivor of this horrific event, twenty-seven year old Daniel Pellaggio – Roberto Pellaggio’s youngest son. He was found with bullet wounds in his leg and chest and is currently in critical condition. More on this story as it develops. In other news, a local man has found...’
Hmmm, someone survived, eh? That was unexpected. He’s a lucky bastard, I’ll give him that. I considered killing him, just to tie up loose ends, but quickly decided it wasn’t worth it. Jimmy Manhattan’s in police custody for the foreseeable future, and Pellaggio’s business will have collapsed, given I killed the majority of the people involved in its day to day running a few hours ago. His son wouldn’t have seen my face – because of the smoke grenades, he wouldn’t have seen anything at all – so he can’t give the police any kind of description. Plus, no-one’s going to believe just one man did all that, the news reporter had said so herself.
It was all over.
The waitress came over and took my plate away, replacing it a couple of minutes later with a plate of bacon and eggs. She topped up my coffee and left me to it. I figured I’d finish up here and head to the bus terminal, get a ticket for the next Greyhound out of town and head north.
As I took my first bite of bacon, my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was Josh. I debated whether to let it ring through to voicemail or not, so I could finish my breakfast, but decided against it. He never calls me unless he needs to.
‘Hey,’ I said, swallowing a mouthful of food. ‘I’m just eating my breakfast. What’s up?’
Josh was uncharacteristically flustered.
‘Adrian, we have a serious problem.’
FIFTY-THREE
I was so close to getting out of town.
‘What’s happened?’ I asked with a sigh.
‘Okay, let me explain,’ said Josh, trying to compose himself.
‘Take your time.’
He was properly worked up about something, which was un-nerving. He’s normally pretty calm, given how logical he is in his approach to anything. He’s borderline unflappable, so for him to be so worked up he can’t even think straight enough to get his words out, it must be pretty bad.
But then, after the few days we’ve had, how much worse can it get?
‘Right, so you know GlobaTech are planning a strike today, yeah?’
‘That’s what you said.’
‘Well I’m working with their analysts right now. We’ve established an uplink and have access to the satellite imagery from the area for the first time. We’ve detected a massive heat signature coming from within the compound, somewhere underground. It wasn’t there the last time they looked, which was a couple of days ago.’
‘Do they know what it is?’
‘They’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.’
‘So... what is it?’
‘Adrian, by the looks of it, judging by the size, the gut feeling here is that it’s an armory of missiles.’
I sat up straight and pushed my plate away. I rested my left elbow on the table, then my head in my left hand.
‘What kind of missiles, Josh?’
He said nothing.
‘Nuclear?’
I heard Josh take a deep breath.
‘Jesus fucking Christ!’ I said, trying to shout and whisper at the same time, given I was in a crowded restaurant. ‘Are you saying Ketranovich has a fucking nuclear warhead?’
‘It’s the worst case scenario, granted, but we’re considering it a viable option.’
I had to ask how it could get worse, didn’t I.
‘How?’
‘We don’t know. Clark’s on the line with the Secretary of Defense now, working on a strategy.’
‘I’m definitely on the first bus out of here. Josh, leave this to the military and get out, now. You hear me?’
Another pause.
‘Adrian, there’s something else.’
‘Of course there is. Please, enlighten me – tell me how can this unforgettable clusterfuck of a situation could get any worse?’
‘I’m sending you a photo. This image was taken via satellite thirty minutes ago.’
‘Hang on.’
I looked at the phone and opened the image file he’d just sent me. It was black and white and was a little grainy - clearly edited to zoom in a little, then cropped down. But it was a good quality photo nonetheless, and the scene it depicted was unmistakable.
It was Clara. Her hands were behind her back and she was being escorted somewhere, with an armed man either side of her.
Dark Rain had got her and was holding her captive in their compound.
I put the phone back to my ear, but said nothing. I didn’t know what to say. My mind was blank, but racing, like it was trying to focus on a million different things, but couldn’t find them.
‘Adrian, I’m sorry, man.’
‘We have to get her back.’
‘I’ve already told Clark about her. He said he’s going to give the order to the ground forces to retrieve her if they can. But he warned me that the priority is neutralizing Ketranovich and seizing whatever weapons systems they have.’
I banged my fist hard on the table, causing a few customers to turn and stare at me.
‘That’s not good enough, Josh! We have to get her out of there!’
‘Adrian, I know! I don’t like this any more than you do. Wait, I’ve got a call coming through from GlobaTech, give me a minute, okay?’
He put me hold. I sat with the phone to my ear, staring into space. My appetite had disappeared and the anger was returning. I took some deep breaths and closed my eyes.
I can’t believe Clara’s been captured. Whatever happens next, she’s as good as dead. There’s no way someone like Ketranovich will allow her to live when he’s branded her a traitor to his cause. He’ll be looking to make an example out of her. The way he sees it, he’s close to victory. He’ll parade her body in front of his troops to send a message.
Josh’s voice reappeared, disturbing my train of thought.
‘Adrian, you still there?’
‘Yeah, I’m here.’
‘We got another problem.’
‘The novelty of you saying that is rapidly wearing off, do you know that? What is it this time?’
‘Clark just rang me, confirming the new plan following his discussion with the Secretary of Defense. Schultz has been in a meeting with the President and the Joint Chiefs in the last hour assessing the situation. They’ve now come to a decision.’
How the hell did I manage to stumble into something that has wound up being on the President’s crisis agenda? I’m never taking a job in Nevada again…
‘Okay, so, what’s the master plan?’
‘The U.S. government are going to get involved, but take a back seat and only offer military support to GlobaTech. Given that GlobaTech already has a presence in the area and involvement in the situation, they’re going to let them take point on the ground. However, to support them, they’ve ordered the U.S. Air Force to launch a pre-emptive airstrike within the hour. A small team of three F-22s are going to take off from Holloman Air
Force Base in New Mexico and carpet bomb the holy hell out of the entire compound. The intention being that they bury whatever arsenal of missiles they have there and kill everyone before any kind of launch can be attempted.’
‘Christ! That’s a fairly drastic and decisive plan of attack. And then, presumably, GlobaTech move in on the ground, storm through the front door and clean up whatever’s left?’
‘Basically, yeah.’
I thought for a moment.
‘What’s their stance on any civilian casualties?’ I asked.
Josh sighed loudly, and when he answered, there was a noticeable grimace in his voice.
‘Acceptable.’
Back
Hell Ain't A Bad Place To Be
FIFTY-FOUR
I dropped a twenty on the table, picked up my bag and left the restaurant. I walked fast down the street and around the back of the building to the parking lot. I still had Josh on the phone.
‘Give me the location of Dark Rain’s compound and the fastest way to get there,’ I demanded.
‘Adrian, I know exactly what you’re thinking and I’m not going to let you do it. It’s suicide!’
‘I wasn’t asking, Josh.’
‘And what are you going to do when you get there? You won’t even get in the front gate before you’re gunned down. I’m not sending you to your death, Adrian, I’m sorry. I understand how you feel – believe me, I feel the same way. Clara worked well with us, and I know you liked her – despite your protestations. But this is the U.S. government. Those F-22 fighter jets are already being mobilized – in little under an hour, they’re gonna come screaming across the skies, sweep over that compound, and reduce the whole place to dust. It’s a done deal. Game over, Adrian. Nothing positive will come from you going there all pissed off and guns blazing. I wanna get Clara back too, but we have to let GlobaTech handle that and hope that she survives the airstrike.’
I was silent for a moment before speaking again.
‘The address, Josh.’
He sighed, realizing after years of experience when it was pointless arguing with me.
‘Ah, bollocks. I’m texting you the details now’, he said with resignation. ‘Should take you just over fifteen minutes from where you are in current traffic.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Adrian, try not to get yourself killed, alright? If you’re not bothered about coming out of this in one piece, fine. But do it for me, okay?’
I hung up without replying and scanned the parking lot. I looked over all the cars before resting my gaze on a black Audi, which looked reasonably new, pretty durable and, most importantly, quick. I walked over, drew one of my Berettas and smashed the driver’s side window with the butt. The alarm went off immediately. I ducked into the car and reached beneath the steering wheel, working the wires until the alarm stopped and the car started. Eleven seconds, start to finish.
I put my bag on the passenger seat, closed the door and drove off.
I was driving as fast as I dared, weaving in and out of traffic. I had absolutely no plan. I’d not thought past the anger. Ideally, I’d drive through the front gate and get out shooting, taking every single one of them down until I found Clara.
That’s what I wanted to do.
However, despite how I was feeling, even I realized that if I actually did that, it was very unlikely I’d make it within fifty feet of the front gate, let alone out of the car with a gun in my hand.
I’d think of something though. I checked my watch. I was running out of time.
I left the city limits and turned onto the main highway. I followed it for a couple of miles until it met the state road, then I headed left, out toward the mountains that bordered Heaven’s Valley to the west.
As I drove along, I realized I was on the same road I walked down when I first arrived here a few days ago. I marveled at the irony that things would seemingly end exactly where they’d begun.
I just hope I’m able to walk back down this road again some time.
Just as Josh’s directions had said, after a few more miles along the state road, there was a right turn down an unmarked dirt track. I made my way down for about a mile until I saw a dusty, damaged signpost at the side of the track. Some joker had long ago scratched, “welcome to paradise” on it. The sign informed me that a military-controlled testing site was a mile ahead. That must’ve been what it was before Dark Rain moved in.
I drove on slowly for another minute, and then pulled over. I figured I was better off on foot the rest of the way. No point in announcing my arrival any earlier than I needed to. Keeping low, I moved cautiously in a wide arc to my left, with the intention of coming up out of the line of sight from any guard posts on the main gate.
I checked my watch again. I reckon I had thirty-five minutes before the airstrike hit.
I made my way up a small slope and navigated a cluster of rocks, before I came to the edge of a rise and knelt down.
In front of me was the base, sprawling out across the desert.
I’d brought the scope from my sniper rifle with me. I put it to my eye and adjusted the focus, then scanned the vast compound that lay before me.
It was large and impressive, with a razor wire fence surrounding the perimeter. Either side of the main gate was two guard towers. From my position, I was looking down at it from a slight angle. Behind the fencing was an array of buildings that varied in shape and size. There were barracks, a hangar, a vehicle depot and a large concrete building with a huge, metal door in the center of it.
I also noticed a large camouflaged tent at the far end of the compound, which had a tarpaulin covering two large rectangular objects that looked like massive boxes.
I looked through my scope and studied the entire area. I looked at every inch I could see twice over. Something definitely wasn’t right here.
The place looked deserted.
There were no vehicles parked anywhere. There were no soldiers stationed at any of the lookout posts. Nor was there any troop movement within the grounds. You’d be forgiven for assuming that there would be some activity, considering they were meant to be a large militia planning an imminent attack on American soil.
My spider sense started tingling. I put my scope away and sighed with confusion and concern.
Where the hell was everyone?
FIFTY-FIVE
I scrambled down the slope and landed almost level with the corner of the fence. I crouched down and looked around, but still saw nothing. I slowly approached the main gate. Instinctively, I reached behind me and grabbed a Beretta.
It was approaching noon and the sun was high and hot, blasting down at a ridiculous temperature. Out here in the desert, there was no shade either. There weren’t even any clouds. Beyond the base, the western mountain range loomed ominously in the distance. I looked over to my right, away from the compound and saw the other range of mountains that had the reservoir at the foot of it. On any other day, this place would look amazing. But today, it looked like a graveyard.
Hopefully not mine.
The main gate was padlocked shut. The guard towers were empty. I looked through the fence, squinting in the sun. The light breeze swirled sand and dust across the open yard. But there was still no sign of life.
If Josh’s intel was correct - and I’m sure it was - then somewhere underneath here was a collection of missiles with suspected nuclear capability. Also, somewhere within this seemingly abandoned compound, was Clara.
I took out my phone to dial Josh, but I had no signal. I remembered him saying Clara likely would’ve had the same problem when she was out here doing some recon, which was why we never heard from her.
Looks like I’m on my own.
I took aim and shot the padlock off the gate. The sound of bullet on metal at close range echoed for miles around. Well, if this place isn’t deserted, they know I’m here now.
I unraveled the chain and pushed open one of the gates, making my way inside. With gun in hand, I walked cautio
usly across the courtyard, constantly checking around in a full three-sixty, trying to cover every angle on my own. On my left was a large mess hall, with two even larger buildings either side that looked like they were for accommodation. At the far end, past them, was a helipad, which was currently unoccupied.
To my right was a large garage with at least eight black Humvees parked in there, four by two. Next to that was the large concrete structure with the metal door, that looked enormous now that I was stood close to it. As I walked over to it, I could see a keypad just to the right of the door. I figured that was the entrance to the underground labs where they stored whatever missiles they had.
Next to that was a large hangar. The doors were closed. There must be a runway or some kind that led out of the other side. In the center of the courtyard was a flagpole.
I walked down to the far end, toward the camouflage tent. The two rectangles covered with tarpaulin were huge – easily twenty feet long and ten feet high. I walked right up them and stared at them up close. I had no idea what they were, but they looked out of place and were clearly newer than the rest of the installation. I was about to look what was underneath the covers, but I heard a loud metallic banging sound off to my right, followed by a motor of some kind kicking in. I looked over and saw the hangar doors rolling open.
Shit!
I ducked down in the narrow gap between the two rectangles, just out of sight. My hand clenched tight around the handle of my Beretta. I peeked around the corner as the doors finished opening. There were five people walking toward me.
Ketranovich was in the middle.
Either side of him were two soldiers, dressed in black carrying AK-47s. On the far right was Natalia Salikov. On the far left was her brother, Gene. Both were armed.
Did they know I was here?
I closed my eyes and shook my head, cursing my own stupidity. Of course they knew I was here. Question was: what was going to happen now? Natalia was the wildcard here, because there was every chance she’d ignore any order given to her and start firing at me as soon as she saw me.
