Extinction Cycle (Kindle Worlds): Operation Freedom

by Michaels, E. G.

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Nicholas Sansbury Smith. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Extinction Cycle remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Nicholas Sansbury Smith, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Operation Freedom:

  An Extinction Cycle Novella

  By E.G. Michaels

  TITLES BY E.G. MICHAELS

  KYLE SIMMONS SERIES

  Before The Clock Strikes

  The Countdown

  On The Clock

  Time's Up

  Every Minute Counts

  COLE HUTCHINSON SERIES

  Gone Too Far

  KINDLE WORLDS

  Operation Freedom: An Extinction Cycle Novella

  In 1964, Philadelphia was struck by a series of bank robberies. These crimes quickly grew in size, frequency, and violence.

  Alarmed by this new crime wave, the Philadelphia Police Department responded by creating a new specialized unit.

  This new unit was called “Special Weapons and Tactics” or SWAT for short.

  Philadelphia SWAT quickly and decisively ended the crime wave.

  Shortly thereafter, they were tasked with taking down other heavily armed criminals in the City of Brotherly Love. They succeeded.

  Three years later, Los Angeles created their own SWAT team, based on Philadelphia’s elite paramilitary unit.

  Other cities world-wide soon followed suit.

  “When civilians need help, they call the police.

  When the police needs help, they call SWAT.”

  - SWAT Motto

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  SWAT Sergeant Vince Black couldn't remember the last time he had gotten a normal night of sleep. The Variants had first shown up in Philadelphia almost a week ago, but Black felt like he'd been battling them for months. Of course, going balls to the wall for months was physically impossible. But when you're a thirty-five year old cop who's faced with the total annihilation of your city and maybe even the entire human race, it's not hard to find the motivation to keep fighting.

  The Variants. They sounded like something out of a science fiction movie. Except they weren't. Some whacko laboratory doctor decided it was a great idea to combine hybrid nanoparticles with an Ebola virus. Then, when the damn thing accidentally got out, it was like Hell and Armageddon had been unleashed all at once. The military was calling it the Hemorrhage Virus but as far as Black was concerned, it was a death sentence for anybody it infected. He'd heard about outbreaks all over the country. Major cities like Chicago and Atlanta had already succumbed to Variant swarms. Once New York City became overrun, it was only a matter of time until the monsters showed up on the outskirts of the City of Brotherly Love.

  As he walked around the Sixth District police station, Black absently touched an almost healed scratch on his cheek. It was from an early battle with the Variants. He was in a grocery store when a Variant crashed through the window. He was lucky he'd only been hit by a piece of flying glass. An elderly woman near him wasn't so lucky. The monster landed on her and tore a chunk out of her neck before anybody else could react. Most cops carried a gun even when they were off-duty, but when you're a SWAT commander like Black was, you always carried at least one gun. Black was in street clothes but still pulled his backup gun, a Glock 19, out of his ankle holster, and shot the Variant between its yellow-slitted eyes. Then he turned and ended the bitten woman. It was the most humane thing he could do. Every cop on the force had been warned before the first Variant ever appeared inside the city. There was no cure for the Hemorrhage Virus or a Variant's infected bite. Best-case scenario, she would have been food for the Variant. Worst case, she'd turn into another blue-veined Variant herself. The last thing the city needed was another Variant hunting and killing people.

  Black looked around the station. Three days ago, the Sixth District had been a busy hive of activity. Now it looked like two-thirds of the force hadn't shown up for work. There was a dedicated group of officers in body armor stationed in the lobby, bracing for any future Variant attack. Some of the cops had brought their families here. Every non-essential room had quickly been converted into temporary living quarters. His radio chirped, interrupting his thoughts. He pulled out a baseball cap and put it on. He usually kept his hair at a short buzz-cut length but with everything going on, it was getting long by his standards. Of course, he had far more pressing things to deal with lately, then getting a haircut.

  He brought his radio up to his mouth before saying, “Black here.”

  “Where are you?” a male voice asked in a whisper-like voice.

  “Who is this?” Black demanded.

  “Harrison.”

  “Sorry boss, I didn't recognize your voice. What the hell happened to it?”

  “I lost my voice,” Harrison said. “Until somebody higher ranked shows up, I'm still stuck running this station.” Black mentally flinched. Harrison was a good man but only a sergeant. If he was the highest commanding officer at the station, then it meant most of the command staff was dead or missing.

  “Any word about the Chief?” Black asked.

  “Negative. What are you doing?”

  “I was going to grab some coffee and a bite to eat. I can see if we have any tea or honey for your voice if you like.”

  “Thanks, but I need you in the meeting room right now. There's coffee and some candy bars here. You just landed a Priority mission.”

  “Roger. I'm on my way.”

  ***

  Seven minutes later, Vince entered the SWAT tactical planning room. As he glanced around his surroundings, he only saw nine other SWAT team members sitting in front of Sergeant Harrison. Harrison had been a robbery detective before the Variant attack. But once the shit hit the proverbial fan, most of the chain of command had been killed or gone missing, leaving Harrison to act as the defacto Chief of Police. Black didn't envy the man. Early reports were in, and like every other place the Variants had attacked, they were gradually winning the war in this city too. Black knew under normal conditions, the sergeant took the loss of a brother in blue hard. Under this war-like environment, it was no wonder the sergeant had started looking twenty years older than he really was.

  “I have to head to another meeting after this, so I'll make this as quick as I can,” Harrison began. “We just got a Priority One mission from the Governor. His daughter, Cindy Stevenson Rummel, is trapped in one of the lower levels of the Krishna P. Singh Center.”

  “Where?” Officer Oscar Gimble asked. “I’ve never heard of the place.”

  “It's part of the University of Penn,” Black said. “Don't you pay attention to where things are in this city?”

  “Huh,” Gimble said before adding, “Why didn't you say University of Penn, Sarge?”

  Harrison ignored Gimble's question. “As far a
s we know, they do not have any food or water,” he said. “SWAT has been ordered to extract his daughter along with any other survivors. Your team will deploy in two MRAPs.” The Mine-Resistant Ambush Protected vehicle, or MRAP for short, was a popular choice for the U.S. military because it protected troops from explosive devices and ambushes. Several years before, the Philadelphia police had purchased several MRAPs for their SWAT and bomb squad units. Now with the Variants pushing to over-run the city, the heavily armored vehicles had become practically priceless because the Variants were unable to breach them.

  “With all due respect sir, that mission sounds like a fucking suicide run,” SWAT Sergeant Steve Hawkins said. Black shot his light-haired medic a dirty look and the man quickly added. “Sorry, but I heard that neighborhood has been overrun by the Variants.”

  “And that's different from how many other neighborhoods?” SWAT Corporal Michael “Spags” Spagonelli asked. “We're cops, not the army. Unless we get some additional fucking help from the National Guard or one of the armed forces, I don't see how much longer we're going to hold this city.”

  “Knock it off,” Black yelled. “I don't want to hear anymore bellyaching. We will do our job as long as we have to.”

  “Like it or not, we have a lot of people counting on us right now,” Harrison said. “Take a walk around the station. Some of you have your families here. Do you want to tell them that you can't keep them safe? That they'd be better off on their own?”

  There was a smattering of “No's” and shaking heads.

  “Now, I'm not going to lie to you boys,” Harrison said. “It does sound like a shitty mission. But I think if you get your heads on straight, you can pull this off.”

  Black cleared his throat. “I'm ready, Sarge.”

  Harrison chuckled. “Yeah, I'd expect as much from you, Black.”

  “Any word on the National Guard or Army?” Black asked. “We could use their help holding the city borders. Or maybe they could clear a path for us to get to the university unimpeded.”

  “The National Guard is overwhelmed right now. Not all of their soldiers reported for duty.”

  “AWOL?”

  “Some. Others couldn't make it to the barracks in order to report. Bottom line, they've already deployed all of the help they can offer.”

  Spags raised his hand.

  “Yes?” Harrison asked.

  “Sir, if this is so important to the Governor, why didn't he send a platoon of Army Rangers instead?”

  “Officially, those armed force assets are already deployed on higher priority missions.”

  “And unofficially?” Black asked.

  “He's covering his ass,” Spags answered. “Probably worried about his constituents freaking out that he's using the Army to save his little girl.” Black shot him a dirty look. “What? He's a politician. They're like cockroaches. They can't help but think about their own well-being all the time.”

  “Gentlemen, I believe everyone is already familiar with Lieutenant Atkins?” Harrison asked. “If not, you can introduce yourself to him after this meeting. Thanks to the Variants, nobody is retired anymore, including the Lieutenant. We're fortunate a man with his experience was able to get to us. The Lieutenant has put together a tactical plan. Two teams to approach and breach the university. You'll extract the six civilians and get them to the station. I expect all of you to be locked and loaded in thirty minutes.”

  Some of the men started muttering under their breaths, and Black shared their sentiment. As their commanding officer, he was used to being the one to put together their plans of attack. But Atkins did out-rank him so Black decided now wasn't the time to raise a stink.

  Spags raised his hand again.

  “Yes Spags?” Harrison asked cautiously.

  “Why aren't we doing an aerial drop?” Spags asked. “All we need is a helicopter to take us to the top of the building. Then we rappel down to the roof and enter.”

  “Take a look around the room,” Harrison said. “Do you recognize everybody in the room?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are any of them a helicopter pilot?”

  “No, but-”

  “We also don't have a working helicopter either,” Black added. “The few we had were used to evacuate high-level city officials. Big surprise, they didn't send any of the choppers back to us.”

  “We'll set up a command center six blocks from the university,” Harrison said. “Two teams, Andy and Bradley, will approach on foot and breach the building.”

  Black was reminded that the police had their naming code that differed from the military. It helped avoid any confusion on citywide radio bands over which units were military and which ones were not.

  “Two teams moving six blocks through monster-infested streets trying to stay undetected the entire way,” Hawkins said. “What kind of back-up are we going to have?”

  “Back-up?”

  “First responders. Other cops who are going to cover our backs. Offer medical support if needed. If we lose any men to injury or death, they'll step in and pinch-hit. Come on Sarge, you know the usual things our patrols do to help SWAT in the field.”

  “You won't have any back-up out there,” Harrison said. A chorus of protests rose up in the room. “Look, I'd love to give you back-up, but I don't have the men to do it. Take a look around the room. This is everybody we have to do this mission. I got cops on recovery missions to gather food for the people staying here. I got cops stationed in this building as our first line of defense against a Variant attack. Where do you suggest I get you additional men?”

  “It still sounds like a suicide mission sir,” Spags said. “Seeing that we're risking our necks in the middle of this giant shit storm, what's the Governor gonna do for us?”

  Black smacked Spags across the back of the head. He fully expected Harrison to lose his cool, but the sergeant surprised him.

  “We have multiple reports that the Variants cannot cross large bodies of water. The Governor has used his connections along with a platoon of Army Rangers to secure Hope Island.”

  “I think I’ve heard of it before,” Black said. “In Rhode Island, am I right?”

  “That’s right. Let me read my notes so I don’t forget to mention anything about it,” Harrison said. He opened a folded piece of paper and started to read. “It’s a 91 acre uninhabited island which was used by the U.S. Navy as a munitions storage site during World War II. There are still ammunition bunkers and concrete roads on the island, along with a few buildings that serve as lodging. The state of Rhode Island bought it in the seventies and it’s been a bird sanctuary ever since.”

  “Birds? We’d be staying with a bunch of birds?” Spags asked.

  “Better than trying to stay one step ahead of the Variants every day,” Harrison countered. “We have two things going in our favor with Hope Island. First, the state has banned all civilians from visiting the island from April to mid-August every year. When the Rangers landed on the island, they found no other people on it.”

  “So there’s no threat of the Hemorrhage Virus or Variants already there,” Black said. “But if it’s nothing but birds, where are they going to put any people?”

  “That’s my second point. There’s an old farmhouse on the island that the Rangers have been using as lodging and a command center. Three months before, the governor of Rhode Island ordered three boatloads of building materials to be delivered to the island. Officially, they were planning on rebuilding the farmhouse. Unofficially, they were planning on building another secure location for the governor. When the Hemorrhage Virus first hit Chicago, Rhode Island Governor Coleman ordered three more boatloads of building materials to be delivered to the island. It was his intent to evacuate his family, a bunch of handpicked friends, and himself at some point. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t make it out of Providence. But according to the Rangers, there’s enough building materials to build several barracks without chopping down a single tree.”

  “So how di
d Rummel find out about Hope Island?” Black asked. “Seems like the type of thing most politicians wouldn’t talk freely about.”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Hawkins said. “They were old college roommates and have been best friends for years. They were even best man at each other’s weddings.”

  “You got it,” Harrison said. “So far the Rangers have managed to keep Hope Island Variant-free. We complete this mission, and Governor Rummel will arrange to have all of us and any civilians we save to be flown to the island.”

  “In other words,” Black said. “Save the girl, save our friends and family. Sounds good to me. I'm in.”

  “Fuck ya,” Spags said. “It's still a suicide mission, but count me in. Just make sure my girl is on the first helicopter out of here.”

  “Then it's settled,” Harrison said. “One more thing, boys. The military higher-ups have decided that the next logical step for controlling the Variant population is to firebomb all major population centers.”

  “Wait, what?” Black asked. “Are you saying they're planning on firebombing Philadelphia?”

  “Only specific parts where aerial recon flights have determined there are high concentrations of Variants. They're going to try and wipe out as many of them as they can with one bombing run.”

  “How long?” Black asked. “How much time do we have until they start dropping bombs?”

  “About twelve hours,” Harrison said. There was a chorus of shouting and the sergeant banged his fist against the desktop repeatedly until the ruckus started to die. “I didn't say we were still going to be here. While you boys are saving the princess, I will be working on an evacuation plan for everyone here. I have two possible locations where we could move everybody. I'm still trying to confirm they are secure but until I do, I'm not saying where they are.”