High Stakes: Book 1 Blitzkrieg

by Lucien Black

  Calin hesitated and then spoke, “Ok, get to the backup rendezvous point and I will see what I can do from here.”

  Calin contemplated his next move carefully. He stepped away from the communication desk and paced back and forth. Finally, he threw his arms up in disgust and muttered to himself, “We have no choice.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled free a different communication device. He pressed the call button and waited a few moments. Within seconds a deep, raspy voice bellowed from the device, “What?”

  “Things have gone south, we need you,” Calin responded.

  “The operation was supposed to be clean,” the voice replied.

  “Well it isn’t clean and my team is trapped. They need your help. It’s time to come out of the closet, so to speak,” Calin said.

  The voice did not respond right away. The seconds passed slowly and then, “Ok. I’ll do what I can.”

  Calin responded, “Thanks.”

  There was no reply.

  Chapter 18

  Director Samuel Turner stared blankly out the window from the backseat of his armored black limo. Since the Protectorate ordered the curfew, the streets were always empty. He received the call from Purge nearly three hours earlier, which demanded his presence that evening. Sam thought to himself and wondered where things would have been if he would have stood his ground years ago when Purge and his crew barged into the White House. Their plan was merciless and within a few short hours, the Protectorate crippled the American defenses, kidnapped most of the families of the key politicians, broke into the White House, and asked for the immediate surrender of the United States. Then President, Sam had no choice but to give in to save countless lives, his own included. Purge allowed Sam to remain the figurehead of the new government, under the title Director, while the Protectorate acted behind the scenes. If he did not give in as he had, maybe things today would be different…better.

  The car began to slow and Sam lifted his head and saw that the driver turned down Middle Street, on the way to Protectorate Headquarters beneath Fort Sumter. The Protectorate claimed the location shortly after they seized the government from the United States. Sam reminisced at how the Protectorate leader, Purge, was elated to use the site of the first shots of the Civil War as their headquarters. Two years after they occupied the location, the underground base was operational. It was like nothing Sam had ever seen before. The location was seven levels underground and underwater and housed technology the likes no one had seen.

  The car slowed again, turned left onto Station 12 Street and then left again into the entrance to the Fort. Two security agents stood at the gate and the driver lowered his window to greet them. Turner could hear the driver say his name and the security agent waved them through.

  The routine was always the same. Sam was to arrive unescorted save for his driver, who of course was a member of the Protectorate Security Force. The Protectorate or the PSF oversaw all of the government security. The US Military disbanded and those that did not lay down their weapons faced the full force of the new enemy. There were many people disenchanted with the state of the US Government and decided to join the Protectorate. Sam was only president for a short time before the coup, and had no time to right all the wrongs of his predecessors.

  Some joined the resistance, Sam heard over the years, but he knew that they never succeeded in gaining a higher ground against the might of the Protectorate. They had powers and abilities that no average person could defend and over time, the rumored exploits of the resistance began to wane.

  The car rolled to a stop and Sam looked up and saw that he was at the entrance to the Protectorate HQ. He opened the car door and stepped out. The black limo rolled away slowly and Sam walked towards the front doors. Avery Branson, also known in the Protectorate as Zealot, waited at for the car to arrive. Branson, prior to the Protectorate, was a right wing, religious fanatic that spoke out unfavorably about the United States and its moral character. As it turned out, Branson was actually a follower of the occult and a master of dark magic.

  “Good evening Director Turner,” Zealot said in a calm cool voice.

  “Branson,” Sam acknowledged.

  “Purge has been expecting you for some time,” Zealot said as he turned and walked toward the door with Turner at his side.

  Sam noticed that Zealot wore an expensive black suit, probably made of silk. His perfectly manicured hands and hair gave Turner the creepy feeling that the fanatic hid some deep dark secrets of his own. Turner started to speak, “There were a few things I had to finish up before I left. I’ll make sure to apologize for my tardiness.”

  Zealot stopped walking, turned to Sam Turner and smiled. He extended his hand and said, “Very well Director. Good luck.” After the last word passed his lips, the double doors to Sumter’s new entrance opened slowly, with creaks and groans. Turner took Zealot’s hand and then entered the Fort.

  Behind the aged brick facade of Fort Sumter, the Protectorate created a high tech complex complete with security cameras, electronic countermeasures, and a high-speed elevator that transported passengers to the various levels located below ground. Continuous monitoring of the entrance and main level took place from the sub-basement security level. Unwelcome intruders would face a combination of rapid-fire machine guns and lethal gas that could stop any attempt to gain access to the base.

  As Turner approached the main elevator, the double doors slid open and the car waited to take him below. He stepped inside, the doors slid closed and the elevator started its descent. Turner had no choice but to wait patiently for the elevator ride, as he knew that he was on camera since he entered the building.

  The descent took approximately one minute thirty seconds to arrive at its destination, which Turner knew was the lower most level of the complex underground network of levels and tunnels. The doors opened and Turner stepped into a long hallway of steel walls, which had no doors or openings. He walked through the hallway and his shoes left an echo after each step. He arrived at the end of the hallway and faced another set of double doors, which slid open just as he arrived.

  Turner stepped into a moderately sized room that was Purge’s private meeting room. The dimly lit, scarcely decorated room contained only a few black leather chairs around a small round table. Along the far wall, opposite the doors, ran thick black curtains. Turner pulled one of the chairs from the table, sat down, and waited for Purge to arrive.

  Several minutes passed when Turner heard a door slide open and a thin gray hand peel open one of the black curtains. Purge stepped through, followed by his bodyguard, Genocide. Turner had countless meetings with Genocide present, but the man the sight of the man still sent fear down his back.

  Genocide, a former Special Forces operative turned mercenary for hire, wore all black fatigues over a black bodysuit. His dark gray, square cut shirt had a panel that buttoned near his shoulder and when open revealed a red lining. A black mask completely covered with the exception of his eyes, which were a gray blue color. Turner heard that he wanted his eyes exposed to his victims so that they could remember his dead stare once they passed onto eternity. Genocide preferred edged weapons to firearms so that he could be close to his victims when they died. Turner also knew that Genocide was a master sniper and was responsible for assassinations throughout the world. He was a cold man and an obedient lackey.

  Purge took his usual seat and Genocide stood behind him, never once did he break his stare at Sam Turner.

  Turner spoke first, “I apologize for being late, I had…”

  Purge cut him off with a raised, gaunt, gray hand. “No bother. I was attending to other urgent matters.”

  “Very well, sir,” Turner said respectfully.

  “Director Turner, the American people have much to atone for. Phase 1 is complete; the Protectorate is now responsible for the local and state authorities, the judicial system, and the central government. The time has come for the next phase of my plans to come into play. And you are goin
g to help me sell those plans to the populace.”

  “I’m not quite sure I follow,” Turner said cautiously.

  “You will in time,” Purge said with a dismal smile. “You will in time.”

  Chapter 19

  “We’re going to have to move fast,” Sara said as she stepped away from the hole ripped into the wall of the building. “There are still two hostiles downstairs. We will have to use plan b.”

  Jack held the unconscious girl in his arms and the other children stood semi-circle around him. One of Sara’s team members surveyed the hallway while the others stood ready to move.

  Sara continued her orders, “I’ll take point. Sean you’re behind me, followed by Jack and the Children and then finally you two bring up the rear.”

  “How are we going to get out of here, if they have the building covered?” Jack asked.

  Sara smiled and said, “Follow me.” Then she moved to the door, stepped into the hall and out of sight. The man named Sean moved next, to which Jack took his queue and stepped into the hallway. The whole operation seemed to be very military, Jack thought. He wondered to himself if Sara had some formal training.

  The group made their way to the stairwell and Sara proceeded to lead the team down the remaining three flights of stairs. As they hit the ground floor, Sara guided the team slowly. She heard Hunter set off the diversionary explosions, which she knew had bought them some time. What she did not know was just how much time.

  The team came to the ground floor and she motioned for each of them to move to the rear of the building. As Jack approached, he noticed one of the men from Sara’s team had opened the door to another flight of stairs, which led down to the building’s basement. One by one, they slid themselves into the narrow stairwell, the last man closing the door behind them.

  Jack set the girl that he carried down on a stack of boxes and gestured for the children to sit next to her. Then he walked over to Sara and asked, “OK, so now what’s the plan. Stay trapped in the basement.”

  Sara did not like Jack’s sarcasm and scuffed him off. She and her operative, Sean, walked over to a stack of boxes moved them aside. When they finished, the ground revealed a grated entrance to the city’s sewers below the building. She stepped back over to Jack and said, “Happy now.”

  Jack walked over to the grate and stared into the hole below. It was a short drop and he could see dark water rippled below. “The sewers, you can’t be serious.”

  “You have a better idea tough guy,” Sean said with marked aggravation in his voice.

  “This sewer line is a direct route approximately four miles east of here,” Sara said. “We have backup waiting at our rendezvous point.”

  Jack swallowed hard and muttered, “The Sewers.”

  Two of the agents went down first and Sean and Sara carefully passed the children down the hole. After the last child slipped into the sewer, Sara motioned to Jack. He leaned over the edge and quickly leaned back. “I don’t know,” he said with worry in his voice.

  “There’s no choice, Jack,” Sara said.

  Jack leaned over again and this time, Sara used her foot to push Jack off balance. He wobbled for a moment, and then flailed into the hole below in a splash.

  Sara smiled to herself as she climbed into the sewer and closed the grate above her head.

  Chapter 20

  It took nearly 10 minutes before Card received acknowledgement of his request for backup. His communication went through fine, but his message took an excessively long time to receive a confirmation back. I will have to speak with Interact when I return to base, thought Card. Interact maintained the Protectorate Communication Network and their performance has lacked luster in the past months.

  The communication came through that a team stood by for transport to Card’s location and he moved away from the building and into the center of the street. Card threw his black, floor length cape to his back and raised both his arms in the air. His body was covered with white and black cloth that formed a repeated diamond like pattern. He wore black, bicep length black gloves that covered nearly his entire arm. Card closed his eyes and within seconds, his entire body glowed with a black and purple light. Four feet in front of Card, a black and purple glowing orb erupted and shook violently. As the seconds passed, the orb grew in size and mass, purple and black lights shot in all directions from the orb.

  Card opened his eyes and dropped his arms to his sides as the black and purple lights, the orb and the glow all disappeared. In place of the orb, in the middle of the street, stood four more members of the Protectorate.

  Card could not place three of the arrivals by name and figured they were fresh recruits newly enhanced. One of the men, bound in chains and blindfolded Card did recognize. He stepped forward and said, “O&k, listen up, we have one man down and one man unresponsive on the third floor of this building,” Card referenced the gaping hole on the third floor. “We have no idea what we are up against, so I hope you three are ready.”

  Pummel walked over to the group and said, “What’s the plan boss?”

  “You two, Pummel, and I, will all head up to the third floor. You, what’s your name?”

  The large man Card referred to stepped forward, “They call me Dense. I can change my body’s mass and size.”

  Card rolled his eyes at the comment and said, “Fine, you stay here with the Tracker and make sure nothing happens to him.” Card walked over to the chained and blindfolded man and said, “What do they call you Tracker?”

  The man moved his head as though he had seen the source of the question, “They call me Sight.” His voice was scratchy.

  “I’ve heard good things about your work; let’s make sure that you live up to your reputation.”

  Card turned and walked towards the building, followed by Pummel and the other two men. He raised his hand and the same black and purple light created a smaller orb in front of the group. All four walked directly into the orb and disappeared into the blackness.

  Chapter 21

  Jack, Sara, the team of resistance fighters and the group of children all made their way through the sewer system. Jack still carried the girl who had collapsed during his fight with Cleave. Sara, who took point, led the team through the maze of winding tunnels. The team had been on the move for nearly ten minutes, trudging through the water and sludge in the tunnels when Jack finally spoke, “Maybe we should take a breather, these kids are exhausted.”

  Sara looked back at the children and shined the flashlight over each one. As Jack had pointed out, they all looked exhausted. She turned back, continued and said, “I understand they are tired, but we’ve got bigger problems if we don’t get out of here and get to the rendezvous point, a.s.a.p.”

  Jack shook his head and followed along behind Sara.

  A few paces ahead, the team hit a junction in the sewer system and three tunnels went off in opposite directions. Sara stood for a moment, lost in thought when Jack interrupted her and said, “Well, which way now?”

  Sara turned back and looked at Jack. She admitted to herself that she really did not know which path would lead them to the rendezvous, but she was far too proud to reveal her lack of knowledge. “It’s this way,” she said as she referenced to her right.

  “You’re sure?” Jack asked.

  Sara scoffed and started down the right path, the team, left with no choice followed behind her.

  *

  After another ten minutes of walking, the team stood at the end of the right pathway chosen by Sara. In front of them stood a large brick wall, with a one-foot diameter pipe that lead from the tunnel behind the wall.

  “I thought you said you knew what you were doing,” Jack asked sharply.

  “Shut up,” Sara said briskly. She walked over to the wall and pushed on the bricks.

  “I’m gathering there is no magic button or switch that will open a door to Oz is there?” Jack asked.

  Sara turned and stared at Jack. She was thankful that the darkness of the tunnel h
id her flushed cheeks. Her failure could mean certain death; not just for her team but also for these kids as well. She waved to the other members of her team and the men took position behind the group of kids, Jack and Sara. “We’ll rest here for a few minutes before we proceed,” she said. Then she turned, reached into her jacket pocket and pulled free a map; which Jack assumed was a map of the tunnels. She studied the map as the children found dry areas to sit down.

  Jack stood in the center, with his arms at his sides, and thought to himself, I thought I had problems.

  Chapter 22

  Card and his group of Protectorate agents stepped from the black and purple orb that formed in the living room of the third floor apartment. The group stood ready to defend themselves and slowly fanned out into the rest of the apartment. Everyone had noticed Cleave’s body lying on the floor as soon as they arrived. Pummel was the first to walk over to his body and check for a pulse.

  “He’s alive, but it looks like they tore him up pretty good,” she said.

  Card surveyed the body and saw the various puncture points that resembled cauterized wounds all over the man’s body. The other two agents stepped forward and one looked at Card and said, “The place is empty. There’s no one here.”

  Card thumbed his communication device and said, “Dense, bring up the tracker.

  Chapter 23

  “Why didn’t you check the map before we made the wrong turn,” Jack asked.

  Sara ignored him and looked over the map that she had with her. She was sure that she had memorized it before the team launched their mission. The mistake weighed heavily on her for she knew that her team depended on her as a leader. Why didn’t I check the damn map before she thought to herself.

  Jack sat a few feet away from her, in his arms the little girl who had yet to regain consciousness. Sara thought to herself that Jack did a better job than she did of protecting those children.