Extinction Series (The Complete Collection)

by James D. Prescott

  A scanning laser shot out from a spot above Anna’s forehead, passing over each of the skull’s features. A moment later, she fed an image into their glasses.

  The furry face staring back at them was stunning in its humanity. Large dark eyes, a swept-back forehead and a protruding nose and mouth.

  “It sorta looks like a werewolf,” Dag said, impulsively.

  “The brain cavity appears to be much larger than the wolves we know today,” Jack observed, marveling at what he was seeing.

  “They appear to have had bigger brains than we do,” Grant said.

  “Dr. Holland is correct,” Anna told them. “The average human brain cavity measures approximately eleven hundred to thirteen hundred cubic centimeters, while the skull I am holding is one thousand four hundred and twenty-five cubic centimeters.”

  “So they weren’t just hairy,” Gabby said. “They were also smart.”

  “Please keep in mind, Dr. Bishop,” Anna added quickly, “the visual I provided was only an estimate.”

  Jack cleared his throat. “If the head on the statue in the temple hadn’t been broken, we wouldn’t need to guess. Take a few of those bones with you for testing,” Jack suggested, “but hurry up. We’re running out of time.”

  Chapter 44

  Washington, D.C.

  Kay was on her way to her parents’ place when the call from Ron Lewis came through. Kay put him on speaker and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.

  “There’s been a major policy shift at the White House and I want you to cover it,” he told her, his voice rough from years of foreign cigarettes and barking at young reporters.

  “I’m kinda in the middle of something big right now, Ron.”

  “Bigger than President Myers scrapping the underground bunker plan and deciding to fire a dozen nuclear missiles at that incoming alien ship? We’re in talks with his people to do a one-on-one sitdown. Tell me it’s bigger than that. I have a dozen reporters foaming at the mouth to grab hold of this one.”

  “Wait a sec. Didn’t he promise to uphold President Taylor’s bunker plan?”

  “That’s why I want you on it,” he shouted. “With that rabbit you pulled out of your ass, you’re up for a Pulitzer. You pretty much rocketed the Secretary of Defense all the way to the presidency. At the very least he owes you a one-hour sit-down.”

  Kay felt herself being wrenched in a million different directions at once. “Listen, something’s come to light about my source inside the White House. It’s something I need to look into.”

  “So you’re turning down an interview with the president?” Understandably, Ron sounded like a man having trouble giving away a bag of money.

  Kay bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. “Give it to one of the foamers,” she said at last, feeling all the air go out of her body at once.

  “If you say so,” Ron said, disappointment oozing off of his every word. “I’ll assume whatever you got going on, it’s big.”

  “Not big,” she said, before hanging up. “It’s huge.”

  Kay spent the next several seconds beating the steering wheel before Lucas called. Her already pounding heart sped up a little faster. “Tell me you destroyed that video and fried the hard drive,” she said, turning on her indicator and sliding into the right-hand lane.

  “Darling, that nasty video was nuked before you reached the elevator. That isn’t why I’m calling. After we were done, I kept snooping through this guy’s computer and found a program you might find interesting.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Just then a text came through from her dad.

  Cannot wait to see you! I made white bean chili, your favorite.

  “It’s a program called Face2face. It’s one of those Hollywood special effects things. That must be how they inserted you in the video.”

  Kay gripped the wheel, feeling bile rise up into her throat.

  “If this isn’t revenge porn,” Lucas said, “then someone really wants to blackmail you.”

  “No shit. And I’m not the only one. Did you find any social media activity on the laptop by any chance?”

  “Nothing.”

  That struck Kay as strange. “Not even a Facebook account?”

  “Uh-huh, nada.”

  Thinking, she tapped her right leg. That was when her phone pinged. A highlight dropped down from the top of the screen. All she saw was the moniker Laydeezman.

  “Lucas, let me call you back.” She hung up.

  She veered off the highway the first chance she got and pulled into the parking lot of a Grubb’s Pharmacy. She glanced down at the message.

  There’s something I would like to show you.

  Kay hesitated, her fingers hovering over her phone’s keypad.

  “I have the video you made. It’s been destroyed.”

  What video?

  “Stop playing games.”

  You mean this video?

  An attachment popped up.

  Kay felt hot blood rush up her neck and into her cheeks.

  I’m glad you pulled over. It isn’t safe to text and drive.

  Her face felt like a full-blown volcano. How was it possible he could see her? Jerking in the driver’s seat, Kay spun to see who might be watching her. One other car was in the parking lot. A few others passed by on the street. Her eyes tilted upward and found the traffic camera. A moment later, her gaze settled on her phone and the camera there as well. He could be watching her from any one of these, she thought, her stomach roiling. Or maybe all of them.

  With shaking fingers she clicked the attachment. A video began. It was the same one from the laptop, except this version was properly edited and even more graphic. Thick salty tears built up behind her closed eyelids.

  “What do you want from me? You sick bastard. I know about Hollerman and the little list of names you were compiling. And I know about your twisted organization and what you did to JFK.”

  Reputations are so easily tarnished in this day and age, Laydeezman replied, seeming to ignore her taunts. And here’s the most fascinating part. Even with the world in such a deep state of panic and fear, people still have time to read the gossip columns. It would be so terribly awkward having to explain to Ron Lewis and the rest of the staff at the Post how a graphic sex tape with you on it is circulating all over the Internet.

  “Back off or else, is that what you’re saying?”

  Such a quick study. I’m not surprised Trish Han saw you as a threat and tried to keep you beneath her all these years.

  “If you want me quiet? I’ll do it, but on two conditions.”

  A beat passed. I’m listening.

  “First, you destroy all copies of this disgusting tape for good. And second, you’ll agree to meet me face to face.”

  My apologies. Somehow I gave you the impression I was an idiot.

  “I’m not kidding,” Kay snapped back, her fingers flickering over the keyboard. “Meet with me, face to face. No more tricks. No cops. No traps. Just you and I. You do that and I’ll drop the investigation.” Her chest felt like it was about to explode.

  The pause which followed felt to Kay like an eternity.

  Then at last, two final messages.

  38.9099°N 76.9917°W

  Tomorrow night. 11 P.M. Come alone or I guarantee, you’ll have more than some dirty little video to worry about.

  Chapter 45

  Greenland

  The team beat a path through the ancient crypt. Here and there, they ran into sections where the walls or ceilings had collapsed, forcing them to stop and clear enough space to pass. And yet the closer they drew to the pyramid’s base, the more bones they began to see. It was starting to look as though at some point near the end, a full-blown panic had set in, with thousands of bodies in tight quarters all pushing in the same direction. But to what?

  It was Jack’s turn to take point when he spotted another break in the tunnel ceiling up ahead. There was no telling yet whether they would be able to squeeze by, but the chunks
of ice mixed in with the collapsed stonework made it clear what had happened.

  “If there’s a way to climb out,” Mullins suggested, “then we should look around and make sure we’re heading in the right direction.”

  Jack stopped. “Do you think that’s such a good idea? What if someone sees you and they follow us down here? We’re liable to die with our backs to a cave-in.”

  “Plus,” Eugene added, “down here we’re safe from ambushes and falling ice bombs.”

  Jack motioned to the collapse up ahead. “Safer, maybe, but definitely not safe.”

  “You may think you’re in charge, Jack,” Mullins fired back, his tongue spiked with venom. “But I should remind you, this is a military operation.”

  “If we listened to you, we’d still be up top, imprisoned by the Russians and little more than collateral damage in Stark’s attempts to liberate the facility. Speaking of that”—Jack turned to Anna—“I know we’re even further underground, but are you able to send a message topside?”

  “I may,” Anna said, doubtful. “What would you like to say?”

  “Let Admiral Stark know we’re still alive and heading toward the source of the blast wave. If the Russians are still in charge up there, it won’t matter since there’s a good chance they know we’re down here anyway.”

  “I will do my best,” she said. After a moment—“I was able to briefly connect with the facility’s command center and can report it is currently running on emergency power only. Self-diagnostics reveal hull breaches in all but one of the modules.”

  “Maybe the fighting isn’t over,” Gabby speculated, gravity in her voice.

  They continued past the cave-in when Jack threw his fist in the air. Everyone stopped.

  “You see something?” Dag said, his voice a whisper.

  Jack pointed to a man crawling through the hard-packed ice. He seemed to be trying to make his way back on top, although it was hard to tell if he’d fallen through before or after the frozen boulder had punched an eight-foot hole in the ground. One thing was certain, he was wearing the same white snow gear the rest of his Israeli friends had on.

  Jack charged ahead, briefly checking the opening to ensure no one was there. When the soldier saw him, he reached for the pistol at his side, but not before Jack brought the butt of his rifle down across the side of his head, knocking him out.

  •••

  “Both of his legs are broken,” Grant said, staring at the sprig of bone pushing up against the inside of the soldier’s pant leg. The soldier came awake slowly, wincing from the pain in spite of the morphine Grant had given him.

  “Where’s the rest of your team?” Jack asked, grabbing a handful of the man’s hair and pulling his head back. He was olive-skinned with a thin face, dark hair and a prominent nose.

  Behind them, Tamura was pacing back and forth, like a hungry dog waiting for its next meal. “He’s too out of it to speak. I say we just pop him―”

  “Stand down, Lieutenant,” Mullins yelled. “You weren’t the only one who lost someone when they attacked the facility. Getting info from our enemies is standard procedure. Popping caps isn’t.”

  “You weren’t there,” she protested. “You didn’t see.”

  Jack ignored Tamura’s unusual behavior and repeated his question.

  “I do not need to tell you a thing,” the man spat.

  Leaning in, Jack pressed down lightly on his shattered right leg. The soldier howled in pain before Jack slapped his hand over the man’s mouth.

  “Hurts so much more when you can’t scream, doesn’t it? Now listen, you glib bag of shit, you killed a whole bunch of our friends. I have half a mind to leave you alone with Tamura so we can see just how much pain you can take before dying. Answer my questions and I’ll leave you these.” Jack held up two morphine auto-injectors. “Why go out screaming when you could spend your final minutes in bliss?”

  His chest heaving up and down, he reached for the injectors, but not before Jack pulled them away, handing them to Grant. “Didn’t your mother teach you to never eat your dessert before dinner?”

  The man’s head fell back against the crypt’s cold stone wall. “I entered the building in search of the other members of my team and fell through the hole.”

  “How many are there?” Mullins shouted.

  “Eleven of us descended. Four of us are dead and I am not far behind.”

  “Four?” Jack asked. “I thought we only got two of you?”

  The soldier sneered. “You did. Yair and Liam were crushed by falling ice.”

  Jack’s and the soldier’s eyes met. “What is your mission?”

  He turned away, seeming to struggle with whether or not to answer.

  “Are you working for Sentinel?”

  “Who?”

  “A bunch of assholes who hate aliens, that’s who,” Dag said, clearing up the confusion. “Are you one of them or not?”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about. We came because the magefah has been devastating our people. We were sent to extract any technology that might help.”

  “Magefah?” Jack repeated.

  “Magefah is the Hebrew word for plague,” Anna told them.

  The soldier regarded her with fear. “What is that thing?”

  “Her name’s Anna,” Mullins said, defensively.

  “What was your extraction plan?” Jack asked.

  “Simple. Once the Russians gained control of Northern Star, we would exit the same way we entered.”

  Eugene threw his hands into the air. “Great, now they’re working with the Russians. This keeps getting better.”

  “Was that before or after you blew the place up?” Dag asked.

  “Before,” the soldier admitted, wincing. “Once we were done, a Russian ICBM would take care of the rest.”

  “A nuke?” Gabby said, shocked.

  “Gather intel, salvage tech and then neutralize the source of the genetic mutations. That was our mission.”

  “And what about us?” Tamura said. “I guess it doesn’t matter who you kill, as long as you get what you want.”

  The soldier shook his head. “When your government discovered the spaceship near Mexico, Israel was kept out of the loop, lied to until your news media had plastered it all over the world. The United States chose to ignore her friends and allies. What were we supposed to do, sit back and leave the fate of our people in your hands?”

  “Where are the other members of your team?” Jack said, not believing the man’s earlier denials.

  The soldier shook his head and Jack grabbed the man’s leg in a firm, excruciating grip.

  That was when Tamura stopped pacing and planted her feet. “This is for my friends you killed, you son of a bitch,” she said, drawing her pistol and firing a single bullet into the soldier’s head.

  Chapter 46

  Rome

  Mia had always heard about the infamously narrow streets of Rome. Seeing them in photos was one thing. Driving through them at high speed was another altogether. Every road they turned down, it seemed, was lined on either side with an alternating sequence of cars and mopeds—what the locals called motorinos. Rather than being laid out in a grid as cities were in North America, Rome had been built in a series of concentric rings. This was an outcome of the rather organic way the city had grown and expanded over the many centuries. It was further evidence that its ancient foundations had been laid down long before the advent of modern urban planning, a reality that continued to vex architects and engineers alike. If you were on foot, intending to see the sights, that little quirk was charming and even delightful. Driving in Dr. Putelli’s Alfa Romeo, navigating streets with less than a clenched fist of space on either side, left something to be desired.

  “What’s the name of this place again?” Ollie asked, honking at three teenage boys standing in the street serenading a young girl. He rolled down his window. “Better up your game, gents. There isn’t much time left.” A hearty burst of laughter filled the c
ar.

  “102 Viale del Campo Boario,” Mia told him. “I’m putting it into the GPS. The place is called Aventino Wellness Facility.”

  “Blah, sounds about as inviting as a lobotomy. Hardly any wonder that Putelli bloke chose to stay back.”

  Mia switched on the radio. She crossed the odd Italian music channel punctuated by long dead zones filled with static. At last she found a station in English. An announcer cheerfully informed them the Dow Jones had dropped fifteen thousand points in only the last week.

  “There goes your 401k,” Ollie joked, his eyes never leaving the impossibly narrow road. He knew if he put a single dent in this car, Putelli would very likely need his own bed at the asylum.

  Mia flipped through the files the doctor had given them on the girls. “When Tom and Sven found me in Buenos Aires,” she said, “they showed me pictures of you with your family. I must say, your wife was beautiful. So was your son.”

  Hands gripping the steering wheel, Ollie remained quiet.

  “I understand you don’t owe me anything, but it would have been nice to know all the same.”

  “I’m not sure where your friends got their information, but she wasn’t my wife,” he told her, his voice betraying more than a hint of strain. “And I’m sorry to say the little one wasn’t mine either.”

  “She was a girlfriend?”

  “Aye.”

  “It’s none of my business, anyway,” Mia said, adjusting the knob on the radio.

  “Maybe not. It just happens to be a story I’d hoped I would never have to tell anyone, let alone you.”

  The expression on Mia’s face changed. “Did she betray you?”

  “Oh, yeah, but probably not in the way you’re thinking. You see, I got involved with a married woman. At least, she was technically still married. Amy and her bloke, Lance, were separated and living apart. He took the condo in downtown Sydney and she stayed at the house in the suburbs. I met Amy at the petrol station, of all places. She was at the pump, trying to get her credit card working. Turned out she was running a little tight because her prick of an ex was withholding alimony payments. Something about that pretty face of hers and a Sheila in need of help just tweaked me the wrong way.”