Finding Their Path (Down The Path Book 3)

by Travis Mohrman

  Kate had immediately grabbed him and tasked herself with getting him back to health. She knew the power of therapy dogs, even mischievous ones like this. To earn Bender’s trust she had resorted to the oldest dog training method in the world…blatant and outright bribery. Kate had begun keeping small treats in her pocket and handing them out to the little monster every so often, or when he did something exceptionally good. The rest of the facility had been instructed not to give the big eared boy any treats whatsoever. It had only taken two days for Bender to realize that he shouldn’t leave her side. Kate finally had her first dog.

  Now, he mostly sniffed around her office. His nose was amazing for the sheer size of it, and Kate knew that he was getting more information through that cold and wet thing than his eyes.

  As she absently scratched his long and thin ears, her next appointment walked into her office and shut the door behind him. Bender immediately got up and began sniffing his legs and shoes as the man smiled and started petting him. Bender totally ignored the scratches as he was intent on his olfactory mission.

  The man was from one of the research labs working on seed storage. His name was James Orchard, and he had sandy brown hair on a thin frame. A runner’s build was what Kate had heard it called. He was actually built much like Laurel.

  James settled into the couch and began talking about his worries. Kate nodded her head to give the impression that she was listening intently. She tried to pay close attention to everyone, but so frequently they said the same thing. James was worried that nuclear war would destroy everything, and then the future of the earth’s life would rest on his methods to preserve seeds and animal tissue. The pressure was getting to him.

  Kate explained, as she had several days before, that many seed vaults existed around the world. The redundancy was built into the system for just that reason. The pressure wasn’t as severe as James had built it up to be in his head. James listened to her, but mostly he just ran his long hands down the side of Bender, who had taken up residence on the couch next to him. In the end, James had feigned agreement and taken his next small bottle of medication in order to help him sleep. Sometimes, Kate wondered if the people just came to her for medicine and to pet the dog. Thinking about it further, she realized that if that was the case, then she was still doing her job just fine.

  9

  The general had just closed his vid window on a meeting to explain the situation. He was shaken. He strolled over to a cabinet in his office and opened the doors. His hand settled on the cool glass of the bottle. Pulling it from the cabinet, he could see the amber colored magic swaying around inside. This was his most expensive and treasured bottle of scotch. It was a 25 year old bottle of Talisker single malt scotch.

  He pulled the cork on the bottle and gently sniffed. It had a distinct scent of sea air and immediately served to ease his nerves. After pouring a small amount over the ice in his glass, he gently placed the coveted bottle back in its keep. Sitting down and leaning back in his chair, he allowed himself a very small sip. A bottle this old harbored none of the tell-tale burning that most people associated with hard liquor. This was as smooth and supple as could be.

  As he felt the goodness spreading around inside his belly, he allowed himself to think about what he had just learned. The primary missile defense shield had failed and no one could hazard a guess why. It simply didn’t fire when ordered to. Everything was completely operational, but when the technician clicked on ‘fire’ nothing happened.

  They had a number of theories, but they were all incredibly complex. The general knew the only logical thing this could be was a cyber-assault. A few others in the meeting brought this up as well, but they were all dismissed because hacking that system was supposed to be impossible. The general knew better; nothing was impossible to hack into, nothing.

  The fact that some group may have hacked into their missile defense shield was especially frightening for the general. Having to rely on the archaic land based array was not a safe option. Beyond that, the final defense against a missile strike were the old Patriot missiles. Shooting a missile at another missile was very difficult, and you only got one shot. They were mostly to be used as a last resort, a sort of Hail Mary against nuclear holocaust on the shores of the United States.

  “Computer, what is the likelihood that your systems could be compromised from an outside group?” he asked after taking another small sip of his peaty scotch. He was fully aware that his world in this facility was completely controlled by the computer that monitored his every move.

  “General, it is extremely unlikely that my systems would be compromised. I am not connected to the internet in the way that most computers are. We are tied only to the other vaults, and there are no access points outside of those locations.”

  The general leaned farther back in his chair as he tried to understand how this system would work. The scotch was just beginning to fog his mind. “If that’s true, then how do you get your information from the outside world?” Then his eyes lit up as he realized something else that didn’t make sense. “And how can I get messages from places that are outside the vaults, like the pentagon, if we aren’t connected to those networks?”

  “Sir, I am capable of harvesting information from the air as it is sent within 1,000 miles of this facility. It is a data trapping tool that was inspired by the original nickname for the internet, ‘The Web’. When individuals send you messages or data, they go to a bank of servers off the shore of Washington state. I can sift through the items as they are sent there and bring back what is relevant.”

  The general was still scratching his head. This level of technology was far beyond him, but at least it was giving him answers that made sense. “What about the outgoing messages?”

  “General, the messages are sent through a different bank of servers in the middle of Nebraska. This is an exit only style port. No transmissions can come through it. The data only flows in one direction.”

  Bahn downed the rest of his scotch. He wasn’t sure if it was the computer or the scotch, but he felt more at ease now. He knew that the only way to gain access to these computer systems were to physically be present inside the seed vault itself. Something that he knew was as close to impossible as anything could get.

  What the rest of the staff didn’t know was that the computer had defensive abilities. From the moment a person walked in, they were scanned. If they weren’t cleared for entry, they received a warning. If for some reason they failed to heed that warning, they were sliced to ribbons with a series of lasers that were embedded in all the walls.

  Thankfully, this system had not been put into use. The general had thought about notifying some of his personnel about the defensive capabilities, but decided that it was just another pointless worry over something they couldn’t control. Those systems were totally automated, and the only person who could add people to the system was himself and the other facility heads, in the case of his own absence or death.

  It was a beautiful and fully contained system. He knew he was safe here, but he feared greatly for the rest of the country. Reaching back into the cabinet, the general once again pulled out the bottle of Talisker and poured himself another. “This one”, he told himself, “I’ll drink just for me”. He settled back into his chair and stared into the vid screen, which was now projecting an image of the lake he grew up on from the perspective of his dock. The image was complete with far away sounds of boats as well as kingfishers chirping mightily from trees near the dock.

  10

  Jeep could hear the footfalls of others echoing off the walls of the cavernous garage. He was busy replacing the gaskets on an ATV cart that some egg head had decided must be dried out. They were perfectly fine, of course, but these carts were fun for him to work on. They were basically like souped-up, four wheel drive, off road golf carts.

  He could hear them getting closer so he put down his tools and looked out from under the small hood. He saw two of the newly arrived Marines walking down
his aisle, checking out all the vehicles. “Hey fellas, how ya doing?” Jeep said while lifting his hand in a friendly wave.

  Neither soldier said anything or even acknowledged him. His only indication that they had actually heard him was that they both seemed to walk just a bit straighter, with their chests puffed out even more. Jeep knew these would not be the last rude people he ever encountered, so he brushed it off and got back to work reassembling the engine.

  Several minutes went by before he could see a pair of boots on the ground next to the ATV. Everything above the knees was obscured by the hood of the cart. Jeep slowly backed out from under the cramped workspace, wondering what all this macho crap was about.

  “Hi fellas, uhh…can I help you with something?” Jeep was not surprised to see that it was the same two Marines he had seen walking down the aisle that had ignored him. He was surprised to see that one of them was female. With all their gear on, as well as the sheer size of the both of them, he had assumed they were both men. Up close, he could see the unmistakable curve of a woman’s jawline and completely stubble free face.

  Both soldiers stood a solid half foot taller than Jeep; they had to be nearly six and a half feet tall. They continued to stare at him for a moment while Jeep began to grow both nervous and confused. “Sorry for the mistake ma’am,” he stammered.

  He could see they were both sweating pretty severely and he assumed all that thick camo clothing and gear was pretty damn hot. Finally, the woman with the name Ollo stitched across her chest spoke up in a very gruff tone, “I think I want to take this vehicle here.”

  Jeep laughed, assuming it was a joke. He very quickly saw the grimace on her face and realized she was not joking. She was just being an asshole. “Okay, well I’ll be done here in about an hour and…”

  The woman took another step closer to Jeep, their faces nearly touching. “I said I will take this vehicle here.” Jeep could feel waves of heat radiating off the woman, it was almost as if she had just come in after spending all day on a sunny beach.

  “I get it, but I’m working on it at the moment and…”

  The woman stepped closer and grabbed Jeep by his shoulders. He noticed his feet lost contact with the ground and he began to feel his adrenaline surging into his bloodstream. His heart began thumping loudly in his ears. “You can’t stop me,” she said with a piercing look that told Jeep all he needed to know about her current mental state.

  He had no idea what he was supposed to do. The other Marine just seemed to be watching the exchange as apathetically as if he were watching a commercial for soap. “Fine, take it. It’s yours.” He knew he shouldn’t, but the smartass that lived inside him simply couldn’t resist poking the angry tiger. “Put the other half of the engine in that box over there and drive on out of here with it. It’s all yours, lady.”

  The woman’s face began turning red, but she was interrupted before she could say anything else as a hand fell on her shoulder. “Easy Ollo,” said the other soldier. “Obviously, this guy wants his ass kicked for some reason. Neither of us needs to be written up again.”

  Slowly, Jeep felt his feet make contact with the smooth floor of the garage. “What the hell did they feed these people?” he thought to himself.

  As quickly as the meeting had started, it was over. Both soldiers continued walking farther down the aisle and left him alone with his partially re-assembled ATV. Jeep noticed his hands were shaking from the encounter as he tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. He knew he had kind of been a smartass at the end there, but before that he had no clue what had set them off. He had run across soldiers before that seemed to enjoy pissing off and intimidating civilians like him, so he tried not to think too much into it.

  As he tried to get back to work, he realized he needed to walk the adrenaline out of his system. Shaky hands were no good when trying to wrench small things into place. Placing all his tools down, he looked up to see if he could spot where the arrogant pair had ended up. He couldn’t see or hear them anywhere in the garage, but he really didn’t want to risk bumping into them if he walked around there. It was very likely they were standing near some other interesting vehicle.

  Jeep opted to take a quick fifteen minute break topside in the sun. It was just the thing to clear his head and wash off the batch of crazy that the two soldiers seemed to have dropped into his lap. He quickly made a beeline for the door that would take him up the steps and into the crisp Montana air.

  +++

  Jeep was leaning against the rope that delineated the area they were no longer allowed to go past. He had been replaying what had happened over and over in his head for the past ten minutes. No matter how many times he thought about it, he couldn’t figure out what had triggered that aggression. He knew that some people were just dicks, but it seemed different. He was so deep in thought he didn’t even hear the footsteps coming up behind him.

  “Hey man, you have any more of those nasty berry leaf smokes?”

  Jeep was startled by the deep voice of Marcus and turned to see his friend. He was dressed in his standard crisp, tan colored pants and nice white shirt. Marcus controlled most of the maintenance systems so he didn’t get dirty all that frequently. He had no use for the same bib overalls that were Jeep’s standard uniform.

  “Yeah, I think I have something in my pouch here.” Jeep reached into the pocket inside the chest of his bibs and pulled out a tattered and worn leather pouch full of various dried leaves. “You want me to twist it up for you?” Jeep asked, knowing full well that the man couldn’t roll a cigarette any better than either of them could fly a plane.

  “That would be great, since I still can’t roll worth a damn. I usually have my pipe but I don’t know where the hell that thing ended up.” Marcus said while patting all his own pockets.

  Jeep began pinching out small amounts of the musty dried leaves onto the tiny white rolling paper as Marcus spoke again, “So, what’s going on with you?”

  Jeep handed him the freshly rolled smoke and said “I just had a really weird experience with a couple of Marines.”

  While lighting the perfectly rolled little blackberry joint, Marcus mumbled out the words, “Sounds like the start of a late night movie…” and then he exhaled the first puff, coughing a little. “Damn, that’s harsh. Why do you smoke these again?”

  “I really don’t know. Something to do, I guess.” Jeep turned back to look out into the trees lining the river. “Really though, these Marines came into the garage, walked right over to me, then one of them tried to pick a fight.”

  Marcus exhaled a clean stream of silken smoke out into the air without coughing this time; apparently his throat had quickly grown used to the harsh smoke of the leaves. “I’ve seen those Marines, wouldn’t have been much of a fight.”

  “Trust me, I fully realize that. It was just weird.”

  “They’re just bored. I don’t think people who are fully sane go into elite fighting units in the first place. They’re used to action and they ain’t getting it.”

  Jeep turned back and looked at Marcus. “I know, I thought of that, but this seemed different. And the really weird thing,” he hesitated, trying to think of a way to phrase it that didn’t make him sound crazy. “They both had heat just rolling off of them. You know when a black dog walks over after being in the sun and you can feel the heat coming off their back?” Marcus nodded in agreement. “It was just like that.”

  “Hmmm, that is weird, man. Were they sweating, maybe it was just all the gear they carry everywhere?”

  “They weren’t really sweating that much. I want to go tell one of the medics. That can’t be normal!”

  Marcus crushed the remainder of his hand rolled cigarette under his boot as it grew too small to hold. “Well, that’s one way to go, I guess. Maybe try to keep quiet about it though, don’t want to piss any more Marines off, you know?”

  “Yeah, that was what I was thinking. I think I might just tell Laurel and see what she thinks about the whole
situation. Then she can talk to the medic team and say she felt the heat coming off them in a hallway or something.”

  “There you go buddy, just have other people lie. How could that ever end badly?” Marcus said while grinning wide. “I need to get back inside, man. I’m running a systems check on our computer overlord.”

  “I thought that thing checked itself?” Jeep was confused; the computer was created with its own diagnostic scans. It should have been hands off unless it reported something wrong. “Did it throw out an error code somewhere?”

  “No, the general is just paranoid that we might get hacked. It’s not possible, but I’m running a full diagnostics anyway.” Both men turned and began heading back into the facility. “Your Marines aren’t the only strange things going on around here.”

  Jeep didn’t reply. Instead they walked back into the facility in silence, both men reflecting on what had been going on in the recent days. Neither wanted to verbalize their own fear at the rapidly changing situation, and neither needed to.

  11

  Laurel paced outside the door to General Bahn’s office. She was clutching the file folder with the most recent result tightly to her chest. She had played this conversation over and over in her head, but she was still nervous.

  The door to the general’s office snapped open and he called her in. She knew it was show time and she quickly composed herself and walked into the office to greet the large man with the buzz cut who was waiting for her.