There were no soldiers stationed on the landing, not even a sentry left there to block their movement up through the complex.
Very odd, she thought. If she had been in charge of the opposing forces, she would be flushing every floor for the President, and ensuring that she blocked off the stairwell while she did so.
Obviously, the 7th Squadron operated differently.
With the stairwell unguarded, Gant and her team made swift progress upwards, came to the Level 2 hangar bay.
The Level 2 hangar - untouched, so far, by the mayhem of the day - was practically identical to the one above it, the only difference being that the collection of planes inside it was far less exotic. While the Level 1 hangar contained its pair of Stealth bombers and the SR-71 Blackbird, this one only held two AWACS surveillance airplanes.
Which was exactly what Gant wanted.
Two minutes later, she was inside the lower cargo hold of one of the AWACS planes, unscrewing a heavy lead panel in the floor.
The panel came free, revealing an electronics compartment - and in the middle of that compartment, secured firmly in place, was a very sturdy-looking fluorescent orange unit, about the size of a small shoebox. The orange box appeared to be made of some superstrong material.
"What's that?" Juliet Janson asked from behind Gant.
The President answered for her. "It's the plane's flight data recorder. The black box."
"Doesn't look very black," Ramrod Hagerty said sourly.
"They never are," Gant said, extracting the small orange unit from its nook. "It's just the name they're known by. Black boxes are nearly always painted bright orange, for better visibility in a wreck. That said, they're usually found another way..."
"Oh, very good..." the President said.
"What?" Hagerty asked. "What?"
"Ever wondered how they find the black box so fast after an airplane crash?" Gant said. "When a plane goes down, debris is spread all over the place, yet they always find the flight data recorder very quickly, usually within a few hours."
"Yes..."
Gant said, "That's because all black boxes have a battery-powered transponder inside them. That transponder emits a high-powered microwave signal, giving the box's location to crash investigators."
"So what are you going to do with it?" Hagerty asked.
Gant called up through the hatch above her. "Mother!"
"Yeah?" Mother's voice floated back.
"You found that signal yet?"
"I'll have it in two seconds!"
Gant gave Hagerty a look. "I'm going to try to impersonate the signal coming from the President's heart."
In the main cabin of the AWACS plane, Mother sat at a computer console.
She pulled up the screen showing the microwave signal coming into Area 7 from the low orbit satellite. It was the same screen Brainiac had found inside the other AWACS plane earlier, depicting a twenty-five-second rebounding signature.
Gant came up from the cargo hold with the orange colored black box. She plugged a cable into a socket on its side, connecting it to Mother's terminal. Immediately, the spike graph appeared on a small illuminated LCD screen on the black box's top.
"Okay," Gant said to Mother, "see that search signal, the upward spike? I want you to set it as the 'find' frequency on the black box."
When crash investigators search for a black box, they use a radio transmitter to emit a pre-set microwave signal called the 'find' frequency. When the black box's transponder detects that signal, it sends out a return signal, revealing its location.
"Okay..." Mother said, typing. "Done."
"Good," Gant said. "Now set that rebounding frequency - the downward spike - as the return signal."
"Okay, just a minute."
"Will the signal strength from the black box be powerful enough to reach all the way up to the satellite?" the President asked.
"I think it'll work. They used microwave signals to talk to Armstrong on the moon, and SETI uses them to send messages into outer space." Gant smiled. "It's not the size that matters, it's the quality of the signal."
"All right, done," Mother said. She turned to Gant. "So, Fearless Leader, what exactly have I just created?"
"Mother, if you've done it right, when we activate the transmitter inside this black box, we'll be mimicking the signal coming out of the President's heart."
"So what now?" the President asked.
"Yes," Hagerty said meanly. "Do we just switch it on?"
"Definitely not. If we turn it on, the satellite will pick up two identical signals, and that might cause it to detonate the bombs. We can't risk that. No, we've just laid the groundwork. Now it's time for the hard part. Now we have to substitute the black box's signal for the President's."
"And how do we do that?" Hagerty asked. "Please don't tell me that you're going to perform open-heart surgery on the President of the United States with a pocket knife?"
"Do I look like MacGyver to you?" Gant asked. "No. My theory is this: somehow Caesar Russell got that transmitter onto the President's heart..."
"That's right. He did it during an operation I had a few years ago," the President said.
"But I'm figuring he didn't turn it on until today," Gant said. "The White House's scanners would have picked up an unauthorized signal as soon as it was turned on."
"Yes, so..." Hagerty said.
"So," Gant said, "somewhere in this complex, Caesar Russell has a unit that turns the President's transmitter on and off. I'm guessing that that unit - probably just a handheld initiate/terminate unit of some kind - is sitting in the same room as Caesar himself."
"It is," the President said, recalling the small unit that Caesar Russell had turned on at the very start of the challenge. "He had it when he appeared on the television sets before, at the beginning of all this. It's red, handheld, with a black stub antenna."
"Right then," Gant said. "Now all we have to do is find his command center." She turned to Juliet. "Your people have checked out this place. Any ideas?"
Juliet said, "The main hangar. In the building overlooking the floor. There's a whole command-and-control room up there."
"Then that's where we're going," Gant said. "So what we do now is simple. First, we take Caesar Russell's command center. Then, in between the search signals sent down from the satellite, we use his initiate/terminate unit to turn off the transmitter attached to the President's heart, while a second later, we turn on the black box."
She gave the President a wry smile. "Like I said. Simple."
* * *
The five remaining members of Charlie Unit were moving quickly through a low concrete tunnel, all running in a half-crouch.
Trotting along with them - and because of his height, not needing to crouch - was Kevin.
Charlie Unit had just returned from Lake Powell, after killing Botha, retrieving Kevin, and watching Schofield's chopper drown.
They had parked their two Penetrators outside and were now reentering the complex through an entrance that connected the main facility with one of the outside hangars, an entrance known as the "top door."
The top door's tunnel opened onto the rear of the personnel elevator shaft, at ground level, by virtue of a foot thick titanium door.
Charlie Unit came to the heavy silver door.
Python Willis punched in the appropriate override code. The top door was a special entrance to Area 7 - if you were senior enough to know the override code, you could open it anytime, even during a lockdown.
The thick titanium door swung open - and Python froze.
He saw the roof of the personnel elevator parked just below his feet, sitting right there in front of him.
And standing on top of it, was Cobra Carney and four members of Echo Unit.
The other half of Echo, Python saw through the hatch in the elevator's roof, were down in the car itself.
"Jesus, Cobra," Python said, "you scared the shit out of me. Wasn't expecting to see you guys here..."
; "Caesar told us to come get you," Cobra drawled. "Make sure you all got in okay."
Python shoved Kevin forward, onto the roof of the stopped elevator. "We lost five, but we got him."
"Good," Cobra said. "Very good."
It was then that - through the roof hatch of the elevator - Python saw four more men standing in the elevator car with the Echo men.
Four Asian men.
Python frowned.
They were the four men who had been inside the decompression chamber earlier that morning - 7th Squadron Captain Robert Wu and Lieutenant Chet Li, and the two Chinese lab workers. The men who had brought the latest strain of the Sinovirus back to Area 7.
"Cobra, what's going on?" Python said suddenly, looking up.
"Sorry, Python," Cobra said.
And with that he gave a short nod to his men.
In a flash, the four members of Echo Unit on the elevator's roof raised their P-90's and unleashed a withering storm of fire on Charlie Unit.
Python Willis was hit by about a million rounds. His face and chest were turned instantly to mush. The four Charlie men behind him also dropped like flailing marionettes, one after the other, until the only figure left standing on that side of the elevator's roof was the wide-eyed and terrified Kevin.
Cobra Carney strode forward and grabbed the little boy roughly by the arm.
"Smile, kid, you're coming with me now."
* * *
The control room overlooking the main hangar was quiet.
Boa McConnell and the four other surviving members of Bravo Unit sat slumped in the corner, looking bloodied and dirty. Two of Boa's men were seriously wounded. Colonel Jerome T. Harper - the ostensible CO of Area 7, but in reality a minion of Caesar Russell - tended to their wounds.
Another figure sat at the back of the room, shrouded in shadow - he had been sitting inside the control room for the whole morning, never uttering a word. He just watched silently.
Major Kurt Logan and the remainder of Alpha Unit were also in the control room. Logan now stood with Caesar, whispering in hushed tones. His Alpha Unit had fared little better than Bravo Unit: of his original team of ten men, including himself, there were only four left.
Caesar, however, seemed absolutely unperturbed by their losses.
"Any word from Echo Unit?"
"Cobra reports that they are now on Level 4. No sign of the President yet..."
"Damn it, shit!"
It was one of the other radio operators. His computer monitor had just blinked out.
There had been no warning. No dying whine.
"What is it?" the head operator asked.
"Fuck!" another radioman yelled as his monitor also crashed.
It spread around the control room like a virus. All around the command center, one after the other, monitors blinked out.
"...Air conditioning systems just went down..."
"...Water cooling system is gone..."
"What's going on?" Caesar Russell said calmly.
"...Power to the cell bay is falling rapidly..."
"The complex's power supply is crashing," the senior operator said to Russell. "But I don't know why..."
He brought up a system display screen.
S.A.(R) 07-A
SECURITY ACCESS LOG
SOURCE POWER HISTORY (3-JUL)
7-3-010223077
TIME
KEY ACTION
OPERATOR
SYSTEM RESPONSE
06:30:00
System status check
070-67
All systems operational
06:58:34
Lockdown command
105-02
Lockdown enacted
07:00:00
System status check
070-67
All systems operational (lockdown mode)
07:30:00
System status check
070-67
All systems operational (lockdown mode)
07:37:56
WARNING: Auxiliary power malfunction
System
Malfunction located at terminal 1-A2
Receiving no response from systems:
TRACS; AUX SYS-1; RAD COMSPHERE; MBN; EXT FAN
07:38:00
WARNING: Auxiliary power capacity: 50%
System
Terminal 1-A2 not responding
08:00:15
Main power shutdown command (terminal 3-A1)
008-72
Main power disabled
08:00:18
Auxiliary power enabled
Aux System
Auxiliary power start up
08:00:19
WARNING: Auxiliary power operational. Low power protocol enabled.
Aux System
Low power protocol in effect: non-essential systems disabled
08:01:02
Lockdown special release command entered (terminal 3)
008-72
Door 003-V opened
08:04:34
Lockdown special release command entered (terminal 3A1)
008-72
Door 062-W opened
08:04:55
Lockdown special release command entered (terminal 3A1)
008-72
Door 100-W opened
08:18:00
WARNING: Auxiliary power capacity: 35%
Aux System
Terminal 1-A2 not responding
08:21:30
Security camera system shutdown command (terminal 1-A1)
008-93
SYSTEM ERROR: Security camera system already disabled per low power protocol
08:38:00
WARNING: Auxiliary power capacity: 25%
Aux System
Terminal 1-A2 not responding
08:58:00
WARNING: Auxiliary power capacity: 15%
Aux System
Terminal 1-A2 not responding
09:04:43
Lockdown special release command entered (terminal 3A2)
077-01E
Door 62-E opened
09:08:00
WARNING: Auxiliary power capacity: 10%
Aux System
Initiate system reboot?
09:18:00
WARNING: Auxiliary power capacity: 5%
Aux system
Initiate system reboot?
09:28:00
WARNING: Auxiliary power capacity: 0%
Aux System
Commence system shutdown
"Jesus, we've been running on auxiliary power since eight o'clock!" the senior console operator said.
Colonel Harper stepped forward. "But that should have kept us going for at least three hours, enough time to reboot the main power supply."
While they spoke, Caesar gazed at the computer screen, at the entry:
09:04:43
Lockdown special release command entered (terminal 3 A2)
077-01E
Door 62-E opened
The "77" prefix indicated a member of the 7th Squadron. "E" stood for Echo Unit; and "01," its leader, Cobra Carney.
Caesar's eyes narrowed. It appeared that during the last lockdown window period, Cobra Carney had opened Door 62-E - the eastern X-rail blast door down on Level 6...
Jerome Harper and the radioman were still debating the power situation.
"It should have, yes," the radioman said. "But it appears the system only had half power: when it kicked in, so it only lasted an hour and a half..."
The senior man's monitor blinked out. It was the last one to go.
Then, all at once, the overhead lights in the control room went out.
Caesar and the console operators were devoured by darkness.
Caesar spun, turned to look out through the windows overlooking the enormous ground-levelhangar. He saw the bright halogen lights running along the length of the hangar shut off in sequence, one after the other after the other.
The hangar - and all its contents: Marine One, the destroyed cockroach towing vehicles,
the blasted-open Nighthawk Two, the overhead crane system - was consumed by inky blackness.
"All systems down," someone said in the darkness. "The whole complex has lost power."
* * *
Down in the AWACS plane on Level 2, Libby Gant and the others were preparing to head up through the underground base, to locate and take out Caesar Russell's control room, when without warning every single light in the subterranean hangar went out.
The gigantic hangar was plunged into darkness.
Pitch darkness.
Gant flicked on the pencil-sized flashlight attached to the barrel of her MP-10. Its thin beam illuminated her face.
"The power," Mother whispered. "Why would they cut the power?"
"Yeah," Juliet said, "surely that would only make it harder to find us."
"Maybe they had no choice in the matter," Gant said.
"What does this mean for us?" the President asked coming up beside them.
"It doesn't change the plan," Gant said. "We're still going for the command center. What we have to figure out though, is how it affects this environment."
At that moment, from somewhere deep within the bowels of the complex, they heard a scream - a wild scream; human, but at the same time, somehow not human; the terror-inspiring howl of a seriously deranged individual.
"Oh, Jesus," Gant breathed. "The prisoners. They're out."
FIFTH CONFRONTATION
3 July, 0930 Hours
About ten minutes before the power went out at Area 7, a chunky CH-53E Super Stallion transport helicopter was sinking slowly through the aqua-green water of Lake Powell.
It made for a peculiar sight.
With its tail section completely blown apart, the chopper sank rear end first, almost vertical, its open loading ramp swallowing water by the ton. Against the hazy green backdrop of the water all around it, it looked as if the Super Stallion was free-falling in silent ultra-slow motion.
Thin streams of bubbles weaved their way to the surface above it - the same bubbles that were being watched by the two Air Force Penetrators hovering above the lake.
Shane Schofield and Buck Riley Jr. stared out through the sinking helicopter's Lexan windshield - looking straight up.
They saw the water's surface high above them, rippling like a glass lens, fifty feet away and getting more and more distant.
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