The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side

by A. S. Thompson

  "You," MIA said, staring at Mason. "What do you mean she's on to us?"

  "He didn't mean anything MIA, now please if you would-"

  "Perspiration, increased heart rate, tense facial expressions, automatic weapons, all indicative of suspicious behavior," interrupted MIA. “Staff Sergeant Gerald Fikejs, United States Marine Corps. Second Lieutenant Travis Goessling, United States Army. Charles Snow, Canadian Armed Forces…”

  MIA continued observing the group and establishing identities until her suspicions warranted action.

  “Doctor Stone there is something off here,” continued MIA. “I have identified and verified two of your cohorts as ones who took part in the attack on the Farm. I am afraid I need to report them to Mr. Brennamen at once-"

  "Code de redémarrage pour maintenance, autorisation: zéro, neuf, un, cinq, un, neuf, sept, neuf. Stone, Albert.”

  Instantly, MIA stopped speaking. Her projected image simply stood motionless. Then, without warning, MIA’s laser-generated image disappeared, and the power returned to the small room.

  Fikejs grabbed Albert by the shirt and thrust him against a section of silicon-coated fencing. “What just happened? You sold us out, didn’t you?”

  Albert angrily knocked away Fikejs’ grip.

  “On the contrary, I was just about to inform you of the six minutes and fifty-two seconds you have until MIA’s maintenance cycle reboots. Tick-tick, Staff Sergeant."

  ***

  The marine life swam silently in the tank.

  In her private chambers, Liz Baron sat hunched over her desk, reviewing a stack of documents. Using a black pen, she crossed out half a paragraph and then said, “MIA, I need you to get Lizzy online.”

  Liz scribbled shorthand notes over the section, but when the artificial intelligence didn't reply, Liz looked up irritated. “MIA, did you hear me? Get Lizzy online.”

  But when no reply came then, or after calling out twice more, Liz removed her reading glasses and stood.

  "Odd," she mumbled, squinting her eyes.

  The sensors on the wall shined a yellow light, not the normal blue.

  "Jenna."

  Waiting patiently in the corner, Jenna Morgan replied, "Yes, Ms. Baron?”

  "Have there been any security updates?"

  "Allow me to check, ma’am."

  Jenna called the security office, and after a short, but informative conversation, Jenna pressed her palm to mute the speaker.

  "Mr. Brennamen says the perimeter is secure, and there has been no activity except, on occasion, wildlife tripping the motion sensors.”

  "Interesting," mumbled Liz.

  "What would you like me to do, ma’am?"

  "Tell Mr. Brennamen to send out a small squad anyway,” Liz said, sliding a black briefcase toward Jenna. “Take this and wait for me in the command room."

  "May I ask where you are going?"

  "To check for ghosts.”

  ***

  The grated pathway surrounded by wet stone walls had finally ended.

  Albert positioned himself in front of what appeared to be a large metal frame, though with the low lighting, it was near impossible to determine the alloy.

  “What now?” Fikejs asked impatiently.

  Albert slid open a concealed panel in the rock to his left. He inserted his index finger into the device, and pulled it back after the needle pricked the skin. He licked the microscopic puncture, then lowered his head for the sensor to capture his retina.

  After the security measures were successfully completed, Albert input a numeric code; the final step which prompted the alloy door to slide open. “Try not to dirty my Persian rugs.”

  The group ignored the request and hustled inside Albert’s office, but upon motion, the lights flickered on. The men who were inside found themselves completely exposed to a pair of lounging Guardsmen on the other side of a large glass window.

  "Duck!"

  Everyone inside dropped to their bellies or scrambled for cover. The ones still inside the tunnel reeled back into the darkness.

  Everyone hid. Everyone but Albert.

  "Stone, get down now!" Fikejs demanded through clenched teeth. He tugged on Albert’s pant leg, but Albert kicked away the loose grip.

  As he strolled casually to the liquor cabinet, Albert ignored every call, question, and threat. He began to prepare a cocktail and replied, "Oh, are you referring to the two armed men outside the door?"

  “Yes! Get down before they turn around and see you!” Travis said, readying a pistol in the event he needed to act.

  Albert snorted. "Why? They can't see us."

  "What do you mean? Of course they can! It's glass!"

  Albert sipped on the vodka, lemon and mint cocktail then exhaled orgasmically. "God, I can’t even verbalize how delicious this is-”

  “Get down!” Charlie said, tackling Albert.

  “What the hell!” Albert shouted, equally upset by the emptied glass and the stain it left on the carpet. “You fools! It’s one way glass! Or two way! Or frosted! Or whatever the fuck I want it to be!”

  “Huh?”

  “What?”

  “Really?”

  Wiping his pant legs, Albert sneered. “Yes! But I have it defaulted to one-way. Makes the workers always think I'm watching them. And since you will inevitably ask, yes, it is soundproof."

  Some team members rose and hesitantly tested the information. Others remained behind cover, guns propped up just in case.

  Travis shoved Albert roughly against the shoulder. "You didn't include this in the briefing."

  Preparing a second cocktail, Albert replied, "Would you like to talk about it, or take advantage of the now, five minutes and twenty-three seconds you have remaining?"

  Fikejs checked his digital watch and preset time as it ticked down. "Team Two with me."

  Half the Marines, TJ, Becca and Betsy grouped together with Staff Sergeant Fikejs.

  "Team One, with me," Travis said, positioning himself behind the last person in Team Two.

  Steve, Charlie, Mason, Flenderson and two other Marines named Ventizo and Guzman lined up behind Travis.

  "Everyone knows what they are doing. Move quick and stick to the plan. Team One, rendezvous here when you complete your objective. Ryan, you’re on my six. Let’s take care of these guys."

  Both Fikejs and his second in command released their rifles, allowing slings to hold the weight. Combat knives at the ready, the Marines waited for the Guardsmen to pass by.

  Not a moment sooner, Fikejs and Ryan jumped out, wrapped a hand over the unsuspecting Guards’ mouths, pulled them inside and slit their throats. The Guardsmen gurgled and bled out as both teams filed into the hallway.

  Despite Albert’s furious objections, the still bleeding bodies were left on the Persian rugs as the teams readied in the empty hallway.

  "Good luck, Travis.”

  "Godspeed, Fikejs.”

  And with those farewell words, both teams split.

  One went left, one went right.

  Both had no idea how bad, bad could get.

  ***

  "I'm not seeing anything that looks like a briefcase," Travis said, scanning Liz Baron’s office.

  Steve lifted up one side of a leather sofa, then dropped it. “Me neither. I think we’re getting played.”

  Ventizo and Guzman were busy tearing through cabinets and tossing over the mattress.

  While searching his section of the room, Charlie became distracted by the gigantic aquarium. “Is that a Hammerhead?”

  Mason and Flenderson, however, had finished their section and joined Charlie.

  “It would appear so.”

  “Better question, are those Great Whites?”

  “Focus people,” Travis said, snapping his fingers. “We aren’t on a field trip to SeaWorld.”

  “Guz and I checked the bedroom area. Nothing. No briefcase,” Ventizo declared in a distinct Brooklyn accent.

  “Albert, you said Liz and the briefcase would be
here!"

  "I know what I said, and if you recall, I told you there was ahigh probability she would be here. It is impossible to predict my mother’s exact whereabouts and if she had the briefcase in her possession. If you really expected me to be psychic, then you’re a bigger fool than I..."

  Albert’s aggressively sarcastic tone humbled as Travis pulled out his sidearm.

  "Now just wait a moment. Before you decide to shoot me, let's check the safe, shall we?"

  "No more bullshit," Travis said, pointing the gun at Albert’s knee. "This is your last chance. Otherwise, your life is about to get very painful."

  “Just hold on,” Albert pleaded. Hands up, he paced backwards, non-threateningly, to the aquarium. Facing a very specific place in the glass, Albert breathed hot air onto the surface.

  Mystically, a lighted pattern appeared from miniature LED’s built invisibly into the glass. First was a triangle, followed by three other symbols: a square, a cross, and circle.

  "I don't think I can persuade you to turn your heads, can I?"

  Steve and the others stared as Albert entered the sequence beginning with triangle, triangle, triangle, but his hands moved too fast for the men to remember.

  “And that should do it,” Albert said, tapping the last shape.

  Lines of light connected the symbols and navigated across the aquatic glass like an Etch-a-Sketch. But what began as seemingly random directions, ultimately spelled the word LIFE.

  Then came a soft click on the other side of the room. A section of floor pulled away, and from underneath raised a sleek, steel pedestal. On top was a box the size of a filing cabinet.

  "What the hell just happened?"

  "What was with the blowing on the glass?"

  "And the shapes?"

  “Fully integrated biosecurity. Our technology division created that. You'd be surprised at how many governments want our goodies like this.”

  “Not so fast,” Travis said, blocking Albert’s path to the safe. “You tell us how to open it.”

  “As you wish.”

  “Guzman,” Travis called out to the beefy Cuban-American, “If he tries anything, shoot him.”

  “My pleasure.”

  A call from Fikejs came in over the radio. "Team One, come in, over."

  "This is Travis, go ahead."

  "We have made it to the power room. We encountered minimal threats but took care of them without alarm. We are in the process of planting the explosives. Have you located the package?"

  "Not yet."

  "We have just over two and a half minutes."

  "I understand. We will. Travis, out."

  The Marines, Charlie, Travis, and Steve converged at the safe.

  There was no handle, only a glass panel with a dark black background.

  "How do we open it?" asked Steve.

  Ventizo shrugged. "Maybe try blowing hot air on it?”

  Albert stared at the passing Bull shark. "The Guido has deductive powers. I’m surprised. I assumed he was just the squad’s pretty boy.”

  “Stone! Code! Now!” The tone in Travis’ voice carried the promise of a bullet.

  “With your finger draw the numbers 13912201.”

  Before allowing Steve to proceed, Travis said, "If this is some kind of trick or if it sets off an alarm-"

  "I know. You will have the chubby one put a bullet in me."

  Steve received the go-ahead nod from Travis, then drew the code. The square glass flashed and the seal-less container clicked open from the front.

  In that moment, every set of eyes, including Guzman’s, were distracted by the safe and the wonders that waited inside. And as intended, Albert seized the opportunity.

  With a bladed handed, Albert chopped the Marine's neck followed by a swift uppercut, knocking Guzman unconscious.

  Travis and the others peered into the safe with disappointment. Despite staring at millions of dollars in necklaces, precious gems and rubies, an opened sack of quarter-sized diamonds, and other priceless jewelry, the briefcase was nowhere to be found.

  "Damnit Stone, it's not in here!" Travis started to say, but by the time he and the others looked back toward the door, their prisoner was armed with Guzman’s M-4 and began firing.

  But rather than shoot at the men, Albert Stone sent round after round of 7.62 ammunition toward the tank. The first dozen bullets to hit the glass bounced off, while the subsequent rounds caused superficial damage. The nicks then turned into cracks, and the lines splintered away, forming a web.

  "Albert!”

  “Stone!”

  “Stop!"

  Albert Stone did not yield to the commands, rather the two bullets that ricocheted off the ground in front of his shoes.

  "Next one is in your forehead," Steve declared, gun trained on the exact spot. Fanning out around him were the other Marines, Charlie, and Travis, all of whose guns were ready to fire.

  Albert released his grip on the M4, and let the heavy metal rattle on the ground. Hands in the air, Albert’s face did not convey a look of disappointment from the failed escape. Instead, his lips curled into a tight grin.

  Then came an eerie laugh.

  "What's so funny?” asked Mason.

  "The future."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Albert looked to the ceiling and said, "MIA my dear?”

  The holographic generated artificial intelligence appeared via the room’s multiple sensors. "Hello again, Doctor Stone."

  "What’s going on?" Travis called out, checking his watch. “I still have two minutes? What’s it doing online?”

  "Obviously I lied about the time.”

  "Doctor Stone, I detect weapons and explosives. Additionally, there are unauthorized men in the power room. Would you like me to alert security?"

  "Stone," Travis grumbled. “You know what to tell it."

  Albert ran a hand through his greasy black hair. "MIA my dear, these men are associates of mine...and I would like them to experience something extravagant.”

  “Stone, what are you getting at?”

  Albert ignored Travis’ question and said, “MIA, would you mind initiating the feeding protocol? The animals appear famished."

  "But Doctor Stone that will-”

  “I know, MIA. It will be quite the experience.”

  Then, above the tank, a door slid open and bloody chum infused with animal parts splashed into the water.

  “The dude’s mental!”

  “Ignore him! Travis, what are we doing?”

  “I got a bad feeling about this.”

  “We need to find the briefcase and evac now!”

  While the others were focused on Albert and his communications with MIA, Steve looked into the tank.

  The sharks were in a frenzy, attacking the food with vicious bites. Then the hammerhead slammed into the glass; followed by the Bull.

  Oh shit...we got played. Albert had planned this from the beginning. He lured us into this room, showed off the security system and counted on us to position ourselves away from the door. He knew that he would never be able to gun down everyone and escape before getting shot himself, so he got Guzman’s gun, fired at the glass and is letting the animals do the rest...

  “Travis!” Steve shouted, coming out of his thoughts. But before he could warn his companions, the inevitable happened.

  As it chomped down on half a seal, the female Great White’s attack path carried her forward with speed, and unable to deviate in time, she crashed into the compromised glass.

  The tank ruptured instantaneously causing hundreds of thousands of gallons of saltwater and dozens of aquatic predators to pour into the office.

  ***

  Albert whistled a tune as he paced the empty hallways.

  Once inside his office, he used his personal desktop computer and pulled up the facility’s closed circuit video security system.

  “Let’s see how everyone is doing, shall we?”

  Through multiple feeds, Albert watched Fikejs a
nd his men set explosives, while Team One- those who were above water- battled disadvantageously with the aggressive marine life.

  Albert chuckled as the fifteen foot, nineteen hundred pound female Great White ripped Guzman’s body in half.

  "Dr. Stone," MIA said, appearing in front of Albert’s desk, "Based on my calculations, the explosives being planted would create a blast that would flood the facility.”

  "I know that," Albert replied matter-of-factly. He swallowed a large gulp of the vodka, and continued. "Disregard what I said earlier. These men are not my associates. They are a security threat. You may inform Mr. Brennamen, but do not sound the alarm. Have Kurt set up an ambush in corridor three as they depart the power room."

  “Of course,” MIA answered, before disappearing.

  Albert’s head twitched as another God-Chromosome-deprived episode overcame him. “Damn,” he cursed, grabbing at pain in his head. “But not to worry, you have more than one supply.”

  Albert opened up the cabinet behind him. Concealed behind medical books was a safe filled with diamonds, gold coins, a handgun, but most importantly, an extra canister of his medication.

  He popped open the lid, removed a pill, then chased the small tablet with the last of his cocktail.

  "Doctor Stone,” MIA said, reappearing, “the matter has been taken care of. What would you like done with the men in your mother’s office?"

  Before answering, Albert watched the Marine Ventizo get dragged underwater. "I think the sharks are doing a good job for now. You can have the Guard clean up after the animals are full; no rush."

  "I will inform them. But I need to begin to drain your mother's office. The water has begun to flood into the hallways."

  "Wait one minute longer. Let’s see if the sharks can earn their dinner."

  "Understood. Additionally, if I may suggest, I think it would behoove you to tell your mother-"

  "No!” Albert shouted, nearly spilling the vodka from the decanter. "Screw her. She’s dead to me. She didn't barter for my life so she can deal with this shitstorm. No, MIA, you will tell her nothing.”

  “As you wish.”

  “And MIA, I need you to make preparations for my departure from this Godforsaken country. I want a helicopter to meet me in the southeastern parking lot adjacent to the gift shop. I will be there in fifteen minutes."