The Ark tl-1

by Boyd Morrison

  Locke spoke up. “I believe I can answer that, Captain. Sergeant Westfield has served with one of the hostiles. He’s ex-Army special forces. His name is Dan Cutter, and it’s logical to assume he has stocked his guard crew with others like him. These won’t be typical rent-a-guards. They’ll be well-trained and alert.”

  “I got the briefing on Cutter,” Turner said, the distaste evident. “Our best chance for a successful mission is to take them by surprise. Because of time pressures, we can’t wait to ferry in our Hummers. And if we try to land with Blackhawks within two miles, they’ll hear us coming. Therefore, we’re landing here.” Turner pointed at the easternmost peninsula of the upside-down W, about ten miles due east of Garrett’s bunker. “We’ve arranged for one of the island’s school buses to be left at the LZ. We drive the rest of the way and dismount here.”

  Turner pointed at a spot less than a mile from the northern edge of the massive compound.

  “When we’re within one click, we’ll do on-site recon with the UAV.” To his left sat an unmanned aerial vehicle, a battery-powered helicopter not much bigger than a toy kids play with. When it was flown 50 feet above the observed area, it couldn’t be heard by ground forces. The camera on board, which included infrared and light amplification for night ops, was powerful enough to beam back real-time battlefield images.

  “Once we have their positions, we’ll breach the outer fence and eliminate each hostile as we reach them. When the perimeter is secure, we’ll enter the bunker here.” The hangar-sized building closest to the mansion.

  “How silently can we do this?” Locke asked.

  “We’ll try to take out as many of them as we can before the alarm is sounded. By that time, we should have overwhelming numbers.”

  Locke shook his head.

  “That would jeopardize the mission,” Locke said.

  “Why?”

  “Because any alarm will cause an immediate lockdown. Concrete doors will slide over all the entrances to the bunker. Game over.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because it was in the specifications. I constructed a preliminary blueprint for the facility three years ago, and although there will be changes, the basic elements are likely the same. The elevators are powered by electric motors in the cabs themselves, so there are no cables to cut. Concrete slabs three feet thick will block the shafts, and we don’t have the firepower to blast through them. It’ll be impossible to get in after that unless it’s opened from inside.”

  “How about air shafts?”

  Locke shook his head again. “Only in the movies are ventilation shafts big enough for people to crawl through. I know for a fact these ones will be designed to prevent that.”

  “We could smoke them out. Drop smoke grenades down them.”

  “No good. Even if we find some of the shafts, their filters would absorb any smoke.”

  “Do you have an alternate plan?” Turner said in exasperation.

  Locke shrugged. “All I know is, we have to get through that entrance and down into the bunker before the alarm sounds.”

  “Then we’ll be really, really quiet. Anything else?”

  “Yes. Once we’re inside, we need to be very careful not to release any of the bio-agent. If any of us is exposed to it for even a second, we’re dead and we might as well let the MOP do its job.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here to give us good news, Captain Locke,” Turner said flatly.

  “Believe me, Captain, I want to get out of this mission in one piece. Speaking of that, how do we signal when we’re successful?”

  “When I’m satisfied that the bio-agent and the facility are secure, I’ll give the okay to radio the all-clear signal, which is “The well is dry.” The B-52 that is on station will be told to return to base.”

  “I’ll be glad when I hear that phrase,” Grant said.

  “One more thing, Captain Turner,” Locke said. “There will be unarmed civilians inside as well as one friendly, a woman named Dilara Kenner. Make sure we only fire at the bad guys.”

  “My orders are to shoot anyone who poses a threat. If they aren’t armed, they’re not a threat.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  “All right, people!” Turner shouted, trying to pump up his troops. “Check your gear and lock and load! We need to move!”

  “And let’s synchronize our watches,” Locke said. “Because my father is nothing if not punctual. If we radio even one second after 2100 hours, we’ve got about 30 more seconds on this earth. Then there won’t be enough left of any of us to fill a shot glass.”

  FORTY-SIX

  It seemed a little silly to be riding to an attack in a yellow school bus, but Locke and Grant were the only ones who looked amused. The rest of the team looked uncomfortable and embarrassed crammed into the vehicle’s tiny seats. With no military bases on the island, the bus with the letters Orcas Island School District on the side was their best choice.

  While they drove into the fading light of sunset, Locke rechecked his bag of tricks that he had outfitted from the Fort Lewis armory. He was armed with the Glock on his hip and the H&K MP-5 submachine gun that was preferred by special forces. Some of the soldiers were equipped with longer, more powerful M-4 assault rifles, and Grant had one laying against his arm as he dozed.

  It took twenty minutes on winding roads to get from the landing zone on the east side of the island to the point where they crossed the remaining terrain on foot. The Hydronast compound was surrounded by ten-foot-high razor-wire fencing, but it was unlikely to be electrified. Too many potential lawsuits that would bring unwanted attention to the site.

  They did, however, suspect sensors hidden in the ground and trees for motion detection. Although the island was crawling with wildlife, animals that were large enough to trip the sensors, like deer, wouldn’t be able to jump over the fence. Locke agreed with Turner’s assessment that once they crossed the fence, they would be detected if they didn’t disable the sensors somehow.

  All the trees 50 feet on either side of the fence had been chopped down so that using the branches to drop over it would be impossible. The only way through would be to cut the fence.

  The team, which was now spread out in the trees 100 yards from the fence were signaled to halt by Turner, and everyone dropped to the ground. Locke laid down next to him. The soil was soaked by rain that had pounded Puget Sound since he and Dilara left four days ago, letting up just in time for this operation. He and Turner both pulled out binoculars. They saw no guards patrolling the fence line, which confirmed the suspicion about motion sensors. Anyone patrolling would continuously set them off, rendering them useless.

  The guards must be patrolling the central compound, ready to rush to any sensor that detected movement.

  “What do you think?” Locke asked.

  “We’ll have to cut through the fence.”

  “Then what? It’s about 500 yards to the central compound from the fence. Lots of opportunities to set off the sensors if we miss one.”

  “We’ll have to risk it. My men are trained to spot and disable them.”

  “Then we just barge in the front door of the hangar building, guns blazing?”

  “You got any other options?” Turner said.

  Locke thought about it, but he didn’t have any. “Maybe we’ll see something with the UAV.” It would be another ten minutes before the full dark would allow them to use the UAV without it being seen.

  Grant, who was using Locke’s binoculars, nudged him and handed them back.

  “Take a look at the fence. Two o’clock, at the base of post.”

  Locke focused on the spot with the binoculars. It took him a second, and then he saw what Grant was talking about.

  “Crap.”

  “What is it?” Turner asked.

  “The fence is wired.”

  “But with high voltage…”

  “Not high voltage. Just a sensor wire.” One of the wires had become exposed, just slightly, but enou
gh for Grant’s eagle eyes to see. “If we cut the fence, they’ll know immediately.”

  “Can we bypass it?”

  “Maybe, but it would be tricky,” Locke said. “These guys are good.”

  “So the concrete doors would close instantly as soon as the fence was breached?”

  “Unlikely. They’d want confirmation of an intrusion before they did something that drastic. But as soon as they saw the hole in the fence, or us crawling through it, they’d sound the alarm. Then we’re toast.”

  “Maybe we should try a full assault through the front gate,” Turner said. “Catch them by surprise.”

  “Same problem. When they suspect their guards are taken out, the alarm goes off and they shut themselves in.”

  “You’re not being very helpful, Locke.”

  Locke knew he sounded pessimistic, but when you eliminated all of the obvious choices, less obvious choices suddenly made themselves known.

  He concentrated on the fence again. He had laid the binoculars down while he was talking to Turner, and the lens was covered in water from the high grass. He paused to wipe it off, then stopped. He dug his gloved finger into the soil, which was soaking wet. His finger plunged through up to his top knuckle as easily as if he’d pushed it into pudding.

  Locke looked up at the tree next to him, a giant evergreen over 150 feet tall.

  “Captain Turner,” Locke said, a big smile spreading across his face, “I’m about to be helpful. I believe I have a way to get us through.”

  * * *

  Sebastian Garrett checked his laptop to make sure the inventory for Oasis was up to date and then radioed Cutter. The device on the Genesis Dawn should be in full operation by now. He’d wanted an immediate lockdown, but not everyone had completed the move from the main house into the bunker. Once the bunker was sealed, it would open up only once more: the next morning when the three prion-emitting devices were ready and their bearers were sent off to LAX, Kennedy Airport, and Heathrow in London. When they were gone, Oasis would be closed off from the rest of the world for three months, the time he expected it would take the Arkon-C to run its course worldwide. The men delivering the devices would have to be sacrificed, but they didn’t know that. They were told that they would be let back in, but Garrett couldn’t take the chance that they would be infected.

  “How are we coming?” Garrett asked Cutter.

  “Another twenty minutes, sir.”

  “What? Why is it taking so long?”

  “We’ve still got equipment to move down that is crucial to our operations.”

  Oasis was equipped with positive-pressure airlocks and hazmat suits for external forays in emergencies, but Garrett didn’t want to use them if he didn’t have to. The bunker was powered by two generators, and an enormous fuel tank buried next to it, with enough diesel stored for the entire three month stay. Water from the desalination plant ensured a sterile supply, and the food stockpile contained twice what they should need.

  “All right,” Garrett said. “But when the equipment is inside, close it up. Tell everyone so there are no stragglers.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He put the radio back on his desk. A knock came at his door.

  “Come!”

  A head peeked in his door. It was his replacement pharmacologist, David Deal.

  “What is it, Deal?”

  The man came in, stopping at the threshold. He looked nervous.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but…” He hesitated.

  “Come on, Deal. We’re busy trying to close up.”

  “I know that, sir. That’s why I’m here. They told me I would need your permission.”

  “To do what?”

  “Well, with all the rush, you know, with my new Level 10 status just the last few days, and then the quick move down here, well, I left some things at the main mansion that I need for my work.”

  “What?”

  “They’re some critical notebooks. In the rush, I left them behind. I was told that to go back and get them, I would need your approval.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “Just a few minutes. I think I know where they are.”

  “You think?”

  “They’re quite important.”

  Garrett considered it. To keep his people happy, he needed to make sure they were engaged, and Deal was a last minute addition.

  “Very well. But be quick about it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Garrett radioed the guard at the entrance chamber to let Deal out.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Night had fallen, giving the assault team the cover of complete darkness. A corporal opened what looked like an elaborate laptop computer. The main difference was the pair of joystick controls at the base of the panel. He would pilot the UAV from this terminal.

  Captain Turner nodded, and the soldier who had prepared the UAV backed away. The corporal tapped a button, and the helicopter whirred to life. The sound was no louder than a hair dryer set on low.

  “What’s the battery life on this model?” Locke asked.

  “Thirty minutes, tops,” the pilot replied. “Depends how much maneuvering I do.”

  The UAV rose into the air neatly, and it was soon out of earshot. The pilot kept it ascending until the UAV was higher than any of the trees. The only reason Locke could see it was because it occasionally blotted out a star. As long as it remained high up, no one would notice it.

  Locke, Turner, and Grant focused on the video feed coming back from the onboard camera. The Starlight scope showed the helicopter flying past the fence and then over more trees. In two minutes, it passed over the first lights at the outskirts of the compound’s main area.

  The UAV flew over the hangar farthest from the main house and then circled it. No activity. Same for the second hangar. Arc lamps like the ones that lined city streets lit up the compound.

  At the last hangar, the one closest to the main house and large hotel-type structure, a dozen men could be seen hauling equipment from a truck through a large delivery door. The UAV maneuvered to get a better look inside, but the angle was too high.

  “Should I take it lower?” the pilot asked.

  “No,” Turner said. “With all those people, we’d never get in unobserved that way. Let’s keep looking.”

  Next to the truck, two armed guards, both in black caps and clothes, stood by a Ford SUV, their rifles slung at their sides. Another SUV pulled alongside, and one of the guards went over and spoke to the driver.

  The UAV circled the compound to find more guards. Three more SUVs were spotted, as well as five guards on foot. Fifteen so far. There were probably more inside one of the buildings. All of the lights were out at the main house. A few were still on in the hotel. Other than the guards and the men working at the truck, the compound seemed deserted. Locke could only guess that most of the rest of the residents were already in the bunker. They didn’t have much time.

  The UAV came back over the central part of the compound, and a lone man could be seen walking out of a different door in the hangar.

  “Another guard?” Turner asked.

  “I don’t see a weapon,” Grant said. “Or a black cap.”

  “And he’s wearing khaki slacks,” Locke said. “It’s one of their civilians.”

  “What’s he doing?”

  “Heading to the building that looks like a hotel. This may be what we’ve been waiting for.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If we try to take any of these guards alive, they’re not going to help us, no matter how much we threaten them. I’ve already had two of them kill themselves right in front of me. But a civilian might be another matter. If we can get to him fast enough, he could be our ticket inside the bunker.”

  “Then I guess it’s time to try your idea. You really think this will work?”

  “Depends who we get out here. If it’s Cutter, we’re screwed. Someone else, we might catch a break.”

  “Very well,” Turner
said. “Let’s see that bag of tricks of yours do some magic.”

  * * *

  Justin Harding, an ex-Ranger who had been recruited by Dan Cutter, was leaning against the passenger side of the SUV when he heard a loud crack come from the north end of the compound. It was quickly followed by a crash that reverberated through the woods.

  He looked at the driver, Burns, and was about to report it in when he got a radio call from Cutter.

  “Echo Patrol, this is Base. We just detected a breach in the north fence. Get out and find out what’s going on. Bravo Patrol will meet you there. Report back. If there are hostiles, report back and engage.”

  Cutter gave them the exact location of the breach.

  “Affirmative. Echo Patrol out.”

  Burns fired up the SUV and screeched out of the central compound. The SUV bounced up and down as Burns weaved through the trees.

  When they were within 100 yards, they came to a stop and dismounted. If there were hostiles, Harding didn’t want to barrel right into an ambush.

  He and Burns, another ex-Ranger, advanced with classic covering positions. When they reached the tree line, he scanned the fence with his infrared. No bodies, human or animal in the vicinity. He switched on his flashlight and immediately saw the problem. He stood up and lowered his weapon.

  “Not another one,” he said to Burns. “And right on the fence this time.”

  He radioed to Jones, who was driving the second SUV.

  “Bravo Patrol, pull up to the fence and shine your headlights on it.”

  The SUV pulled forward, and the fence was brightly illuminated.

  “Damn!” Jones said as he got out. “Smashed right through it.”

  A huge pine tree had fallen from the tree line outside of the fence and rammed a 20-foot-wide section of the fence into the ground.

  “Just what we need tonight.” During the storm two days ago, a tree had fallen in the wind storm, setting off the alarms, but that one had been in the woods and merely caused some noise. This one was a much bigger problem.