“Over here,” whispered a voice from the darkness. It was Jake, his partner.
Aaron reached into his coat, pulled out his night vision goggles, put them on and looked around. Jake was about ten feet away sitting on the ground also wearing night vision goggles. He got up as Aaron made his way to him. They shook hands.
Jake then reached down and pulled away a tarp uncovering the three canvas bags; a large bulky one, a long flat one and a smaller one. He smiled and hefted the long flat one while Aaron tossed the tarp back over the remaining two.
Jake whispered, “Okay, let’s do it.”
Aaron did a mock salute, he went left, and Jake and the bag went right.
While Jake got all three bags in position, Aaron made his way up the unused service road to the top of the cliff. He found his imitation ice plant shell, donned it and made the tedious journey he’d made numerous times before to the fake manhole cover. Opening it, he went down and got the coiled rope then came back up and again made his way to the edge and tossed it over. Following the same process as before, he got the long thin canvas bag hauled up the cliff and down the manhole.
The Sphere Bots had completed their work. A four-foot hole ran off the main utility pipe for six feet then opened up into an area six feet tall and eight feet across. This ran 18 feet to the cliff face.
The Sphere Bots had been instructed to leave six inches of dirt between the chamber and the cliff face but some of this thin wall had crumbled and opened up revealing the thick wall of long ivy. Through this, the distant lights of the capital could be seen.
Aaron dragged the bag through the small shaft and into the large chamber and got to work. He cleared away a four-foot high opening in the dirt wall near the bottom then cut and spread the vines, clearing a path. Then he removed the contents of the bag, assembled the custom hoist and positioned it. It extended out the hole for eight feet, bracing itself against the cliff side.
This in place, he repacked the Sphere Bots and AI unit into their original canvas bag, tied this to a rope then fed the rope out over the hoist and lowered it.
Next, he hauled up the large bag that was too big to fit down the manhole and then, the smaller bag. He then disassembled the hoist carefully, laying the parts out on the floor. After knocking out the rest of the thin wall of dirt and cutting away most of the dead vines, he reassembled the parts of the hoist to construct a metal frame that fit around the opening in the cliff. Next, he took the fake vines from the large bag and attached these to the top of the frame, hiding the chamber from the outside. He finished this task an hour before sunrise.
From the large bag, he removed a padded seat and sat in it. From the smaller bag, he removed a ten by ten inch Styrofoam container. He unwrapped the eight-inch reflecting telescope it held and inspected it. Satisfied it had survived the trip up the cliff, he fixed himself something to eat then sat in the seat, resting and waiting.
After an hour, his radio chirped. He removed a 12-inch flat screen from the smaller bag and turned it on. From a half mile away, Jake had placed a camera pointing at the cliff side chamber and its picture now appeared on the small screen. Aaron studied it then walked to the opening and stuck his hand through the phony vines. On the screen, he could see it. He smiled. The phony vines had worked perfectly—nothing could be seen. He sent Jake two clicks over the radio; all was good, remove the camera and get to the spaceport.
Next, he got out his high-powered binoculars and looked out through the phony vines. It took him a couple of minutes to locate the path through the buildings, but then he saw it; the back roof of the Capitol Building. He scanned down. Below this, the area he needed access to was blocked by trees. Lower still was the chain link fence and below this a 20-foot hill with ground cover. Lower still, he could just make out the sidewalk that ran along the backside of the Capitol Building compound.
Good.
Immediately, he started removing the rest of the contents from the canvas bags. Now he would assemble the custom gun that had taken almost a year to build. It had a maximum four-mile range and used the eight-inch reflecting targeting telescope.
The targets would only be three miles away.
---
Fifteen miles away in the spaceport behind Aaron Tower, a space shuttle set down on a landing pad. After a moment, the side door slid open and The Secretary of State and two of his aides departed. Next came Leewood and Harrington, then Grace, Nero and Adamarus, Evelyn and then the 16 other passengers. Woodworth and Jan were last off and the special team found its way together on the platform.
“It’s good to be back on solid ground,” Jan said.
Woodworth laughed—it was only Jan’s second time off-planet. “You’ll get used to it.”
Jan held up her hands, warding off that thought.
Harrington stood next to Leewood. It was obvious to all that they’d become close. She noticed Evelyn was looking at Adamarus’ wife and child. She wore a sad thoughtful smile. That’s right my friend, he’s totally taken, she thought ruefully.
All the women had gotten together while they had been on Anderson and Evelyn and Grace had seemed to hit it off well. In addition, Evelyn had kept her distance from Adamarus. Harrington hoped that her friend’s infatuation for her other friend’s husband had ended.
Leewood was saying, “We can all take the same shuttle to the hotel. Wicker’s put us up in style. The Ludix is one of the best digs in town.”
“Mom! Will I be able to watch Swing Fist?” Adamarus’ five-year-old son Nero said.
Everyone laughed.
Grace beamed down at her son. Regal, tall and lean, her long blond hair was always tied back in a ponytail. She had striking blue eyes and a beautiful high cheek-boned face. Her contagious smile always infected everyone around her with joy, bringing sunlight to every dark corner. In her eyes, the future was always lit with brilliant rays of hope and of promise. “You bet, pal. Maybe we can rustle up some popcorn.”
Adamarus just smiled and held out his hands in surrender.
Woodworth said, “As I understand it, we’ll all meet at the Capitol Building with President Wicker tomorrow then most of you will be whisked right back here to go your separate ways. Jan and I will follow after closing up our old office.” He looked at Jan, “Then, it’s back to Hillcrest to continue setting up our new offices.”
Leewood nodded, “That’s about it. Adamarus and his family will be going back to Hillcrest too. Evelyn and Harrington will be going right back to Anderson for a week then out to the Bernard shipyards.” He shook his head and looked away. The two ladies would be in more planning sessions at Anderson then they’d escort the coffin out to Bernard, repeating everything they’d done at Anderson; participate in memorial services for the deceased leader, promote the second in command and conduct more planning sessions.
Adamarus asked, “And what about you?”
Leewood said, “Wicker said he had a special assignment for me.” He shrugged. “I have no idea. Find out tomorrow I guess.”
They’d all started walking toward the waiting shuttle, Nero skipping along in between them.
“We should get together later for dinner,” Jan said.
They all agreed.
Twenty yards away, a man leaned casually by the fence not looking directly at them but watching just the same. He pulled out a com unit and made a call.
“Yeah,” came from the unit.
The man spoke in a lowered voice, “It’s Jake. I’m at the terminal and they’ve all just arrived. I’m watching them right now.”
“Perfect. What about tonight?” Aaron asked.
“We’re all set, boss.”
---
Aaron would be in the cliff-side ‘hide’ for two days. He was comfortable enough. He had a video screen for entertainment, a comfortable sleeping bag and okay food. As a treat, he’d brought some imported coffee from the Islands.
The gun was all set up; calibrated and online with the wind sensors Jake had setup at intervals to the target ar
ea. Aaron had inspected the specially built shells for tonight’s part of the plan and loaded them into the gun.
Now he set about programming the firing sequence while there was still enough light. He took careful aim and targeted each shot. Three of the special shells would go into three of the larger trees at the top—part of the clump of trees that blocked the view he would need. He targeted two more areas about three quarters up the hill and one more about eight feet up the hill above a line in the sidewalk he was using for a guide.
He mentally reviewed what he’d done then retreated to the back of the cave and laid down on his sleeping bag and went right to sleep.
Hours later, the alarm woke him up. The sun had set hours ago and it was 9:30 p.m.. He made coffee then sat in the cushioned chair that was now part of the computerized gun and telescope assembly. He leaned over, picked up the video screen, and turned it on.
The screen showed pictures of the secondary targets. One man and a woman he’d never seen but the other person...well, everyone knew Adamarus Maximus. Doing the president would have forced him into retirement but so would doing Maximus. This would be his last job.
He connected the screen to a holder in front of him and activated the night vision that was part of the eight-inch reflecting telescope. Three miles away, the small strip of sidewalk below the grassy hill appeared.
He put on his headset and checked the radio then checked his watch, ten to ten. He leaned back and sipped his coffee.
---
The white noise of the city seemed distant as Jake walked around the corner and casually looked left and right. Empty, no people, no cars. He reached up to his ear bud and pressed it twice—two clicks for ‘all clear, I’m on my way’. He glanced up at the 20-foot hill as he crossed the street. From his position, he could not see the Capitol Building beyond the trees.
He walked near the inside of the sidewalk near the vegetation at the base of the hill. He knew about where the spot was and slowed down as he approached it.
In the hide, Aaron would be watching. Aaron’s single click came before he expected it and he stopped abruptly. Two clicks sounded in his ear—one click would have meant one-step forward but two clicks meant one-step back. He’d passed slightly beyond the exact spot—a line in the sidewalk—so he stepped back and onto the line then looked down as if looking at his shoe. A tone lasting one second came—now he was spot on.
He bent down pretending to tie his shoe. In his right hand were two objects; a match burned almost all the way down and a small metal container. He placed the match so the unburned area was on the sidewalk and the burned area extended into the ground cover then, holding the metal container just above the match, he flicked the small lever on the top of it. A burst of liquid sprayed from it wetting the ground cover in a V shape above the half-burned match stick.
Satisfied, he stood, pocketed the metal container and continued walking.
---
Aaron watched Jake straighten up and continue walking. The liquid Jake had sprayed above the burned match was a long lasting accelerator, which would leave no easily detectable traces, combined with an extra ingredient that would ignite about ten minutes after being exposed to the air.
The shells the gun would fire also contained this accelerator. They also contained a small radar device on the tip and when it detected something ten feet in front of it, the shell would silently spray its contents over a 12-foot area.
On the video screen, he opened a window and brought up the space port’s launch schedule. Nothing had changed; a large freighter would launch using fusion engines at 9:40.
He closed the window, set the fire sequence to start at 9:41 and waited. Ten minutes later, he felt more than heard the freighter’s engines starting up. In the scope he saw the area above the line in the side walk catch fire. The roar from the freighter increased. The cave began to vibrate—some dirt fell from the ceiling. When the sound reached its highest level, the gun came to life. It fired all six shots in five seconds. The sound within the hide was deafening.
---
All the members of the special team had eaten dinner and had dessert and now were just sipping drinks and talking as the dishes were cleared away.
Adamarus was saying, “Grace and Nero will meet me at the space port afterwards.” He finished his drink and looked around. “Well, we have an early morning so...”
Grace touched his hand and pointed toward a flat screen mounted above the exit. It was showing an image of the Capitol Building then it switched to show fire trucks and other emergency vehicles with flashing lights. In the background was what looked like a burning hillside.
Adamarus stood up and got the waiter’s attention. Everyone was looking at the video screen now. “Can you please turn up the volume?” he asked.
A minute later they could hear what was being said. “...the fire broke out behind the Capitol Building grounds, burned up a hill and then through a section of trees. The fire is under control now, no one was hurt and the fire did not come close to the Capitol Building. A fire spokesperson said that it looks like the fire was caused by a pedestrian carelessly tossing a burning match. There’s been no statement by the President or the President’s staff and, given the hour, there probably won’t be until tomorrow.”
Adamarus looked at Leewood and both just shook their heads. The group watched the newscast for several minutes longer then retired to their rooms.
---
Today there will be...amends, former Congressman Francis De Bella thought. De Bella never got up before 9:00 a.m. but this morning he’d awaken at 5:30 a.m. and thinking of what would happen today, he could not continue to lie in bed. Now he sat at his desk, the lights off, his hooded eyes staring out the window across the moonlit hills and valleys of his estate. He was lost in thought, remembering the day three years ago when he had been utterly humiliated, disgraced and forced to resign his office. The day his world had ended.
His high feminine voice squealed into the room, “Today...” he slammed his fist on his desk, “pay back!”
He remembered every minute of that day three years ago as if it were yesterday. He had been in the capital sitting at his desk in his congressional office within the Congress Building. He had been watching the minutes tick by on the antique wall clock his mother had given him upon graduating from college. He could still remember her saying, “Time, Francis. Time is the most precious commodity.” That day three years ago, he’d been imagining what part of his bold plan was currently playing out hundreds of miles away in the city of Hillcrest.
By restoring the 52-year-old Adamarus to the age of 30 and bestowing immortality on him, the Loud have given the Captain all the ‘time’ in the universe. De Bella wanted it too. But, the miracle was a two-edged sword. If the general public found out, everyone would want it...would kill for it, he thought, mainly because he would. However, if everyone had it...no one would die. The population would explode and there simply would not be enough resources. If he’d only known that the Loud were going to solve all those problems. But, how could he? The fate of Amular was at stake and he had acted boldly and decisively, taking the only option open to anyone at the time.
The first indication that not all was going according to plan had come when the sun had passed behind a cloud. As the darkness had spread through his office, his mood had fallen—somehow he’d known. Then the two security guards had burst through his office door without seeking permission from his secretary or even knocking. He had been too stunned to say anything. Immediately he knew that somehow everything had gone to hell and that now the proverbial shit was hitting the fan.
Thanks to the aliens de-aging and immortality treatment, today, like everyone else on the planet, he was in his prime—around 30 years old. He felt filled with vitality and strength. However, back then he had been 65 and full of aches, pains, and tiredness. He remembered watching them enter...how his stomach seemed to fall...the shudder that coursed through him...a light-headedness and the sweat breaking out
on his forehead. How pathetic he must have looked.
They had come around his desk without saying a word and, each grabbing an arm, they’d lifted him up and roughly escorted him out past his startled secretary.
He’d been roughly escorted down the hall, past everyone’s office to the elevator then through the lobby. Everyone had stopped what they’d been doing and turned to watch. The guards manhandled him outside and into a car then drove him to the Capitol Building. Not a word was spoken the entire way. Then, the scene at the Congress Building was played out again at the Capitol Building. He was roughly dragged through the halls while everyone watched and taken to the president’s office.
That fool of a president James Olson Wicker and his Secretary of State Ed Fisher had been there. De Bella had jerked one arm free from the security officers and, trying to regain his dignity, had glared at the two men. “I took the steps I considered necessary for the security of Amular.”
“They were bad choices,” Wicker had said from behind his desk, “very bad choices.”
De Bella remembered how the President had calmly placed his hands on his desk and in a soft voice said the words that would end his world, the world he had worked so hard for, sacrificed so much for…“I want your resignation on my desk by the end of the day.”
De Bella remembered how he’d almost fainted. His stomach had turned and he had thought that he was going to throw up. He had screamed, “The hell, you say. I’ll be…”
It was at that point that President Wicker had come around his desk so fast that De Bella had backed up. Wicker had gotten nose to nose with him and jabbed his finger into his chest. “Falsifying reports and withholding information from your Commander in Chief.”
“You needed plausible deniability.” De Bella remembered the panic in his voice.
Wicker continued as if he hadn’t heard. “Faking an accident and the death of one of Amular’s most cherished heroes and his wife and his child,” Wicker yelled. “Ordering their imprisonment along with a doctor and five nurses.” Wicker was shaking. He jabbed his finger into De Bella’s chest again, “You are lucky I’m not filing charges. You are lucky I’m not releasing your actions to the press.” Wicker stepped back and tried to composed himself.
Countdown Amageddon (The Spiral Slayers Book 2) Page 5
