Extinction Cycle (Kindle Worlds): Operation Freedom

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Extinction Cycle (Kindle Worlds): Operation Freedom Page 6

by Michaels, E. G.


  “Sergeant Black is right,” a younger woman approached. She offered her hand. “I'm Cindy Rummel. You've probably been wanting to talk with me.”

  Black shook her hand. “You bet I have. I'm Sergeant Black,” he said. “Walk with me.”

  The two of them walked away from the professor, who was left standing looking like a jilted male peacock.

  “Don't mind him,” Cindy said. “Professor Bruckerman can be a bit full of himself sometimes. I'm sure he means well, but he's a chemistry professor. What's happening here is completely over his head.”

  Black lowered his voice. “Our orders are to get you out.”

  “You mean all of us, don't you?”

  “We'll take whoever wants to go,” Black said. “But I'm not about to force anybody to leave who thinks they're safer staying here.”

  “I'm not leaving without Kate. She's my best friend.”

  “What's wrong with her?”

  Cindy started to cry. “We were trying to make it in here and she fell and hit her head. She's been unconscious ever since.”

  “Hawkins,” Black shouted out. Hawkins looked up from what he was doing. “Help Cindy with her friend.”

  Black keyed his walkie talkie. “Team Bradley calling Team Andy,” Black said.

  There was nothing but silence.

  Black tried turning up the walkie's volume. “Atkins, come in. We have the package and need to arrange for pickup.”

  There was nothing but silence.

  “Gimble, can you hear me?”

  There was nothing but silence.

  “What's wrong?” Spags asked.

  “I can't raise anybody on the radio,” Black replied.

  “We're three floors below ground. Maybe the reception sucks down here.”

  “I hope that's all it is.”

  Chapter Eleven

  7 Hours 43 Minutes Left

  Black's walkie finally chirped.

  “Black here,” he said.

  “Thank God they make the radios to work under any conditions,” Atkins said. “What's your situation?”

  “I wouldn't say that,” Black replied. “I've been trying to reach Gimble or you.”

  “Really? Because I hadn't gotten heard anything from you,” Atkins said. “Might be a problem with your radio. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I'll do a radio check after we're done talking. We just got to the civilians. We're checking them for injuries and doing a redistribute of ammo. You?”

  “Well, we hit a snag,” Atkins said. “Safe house is gone.”

  “Say again?”

  “The Sixth District location was already overrun by the Variants by the time we got there,” Atkins said. “The good news is Harrison got everybody out before it happened. We're heading to an alternate location with the children.”

  “There's an alternate location?”

  “Harrison directed us to go to CHOP.” Children's Hospital of Philadelphia was one of the largest pediatric hospital locations in the eastern United States. “They've managed to keep one entrance cleared and the top two floors cleared. Not sure how long they'll be able to hold the first floor but as long as they have the top of the building, then they have a fighting chance to exfil through the roof's helipad. We'll get Keane and the priest looked at, then help with getting everybody at CHOP out of the city.”

  “Let me guess,” Black said. “We're on our own for extraction.”

  “Afraid so. We lost a bunch of time heading to the busted safe house. We're heading to the hospital now, but it's even farther away from you. I'll call Harrison and tell him you need help with exfil. You're welcome to hang there until we can reach you but that's at least an hour and a half, maybe two hours, from now.”

  “Don't worry about it, Atkins,” Black said softly.

  “Sorry, got some interference on the line. Can you repeat your last line?”

  “Yeah, I said don't worry about us. We'll complete our mission on our own.”

  “Good luck, Black.”

  “Same to you, Atkins.”

  Black inspected his radio and comms. Everything seemed to be in working order. He keyed his comms. “Gimble, come in,” he said. There was nothing but silence. “Come on man, where the hell are you?”

  Black's walkie chirped again. “Go for Black,” he said.

  “This is Harrison,” the Sergeant said. “Give me a sitrep on your operation.”

  “We have the governor's daughter and five additional civilians,” Black said. He paused before asking, “Atkins said the Sixth District is lost.”

  “He's right. One of our recovery teams made it back to report approximately two hundred Variants were heading our way. We might have tried to make a stand but with the military planning to fire bomb the city, I figured it was best to evacuate everybody right away and give you a different destination. How are your men doing?”

  “Atkins and I split the men into two groups so he could run the busload of kids back to you. But I just spoke to him and he said you've redirected him to CHOP. We lost Nico, but I still have three other men to help me do the exfil. Only problem is one of them, Gimble, has a busted arm. I have him tucked away in the MRAP. He's still able to drive the vehicle.”

  “Three guys to get six civilians out of a building that could be crawling with Variants sounds hairy. Do you need Atkins's team to double back after they drop off their passengers at CHOP?”

  “Negative. Don't worry, we'll complete the mission. We still have almost eight hours to finish the mission and help you get everyone out of the district.”

  “No, you don't,” Harrison said. “I just got a phone call. I have some bad news.”

  Black felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Say again,” he said softly.

  “Dover Air Force Base got swarmed by the Variants.”

  “How bad?”

  “It could have been worse. But it was still pretty bad,” Harrison said. “They managed to scramble a bunch of copters and planes to move people out of there before the base got completely overrun.”

  “So Dover is lost.”

  “It is, but they kept casualties to the minimum and got the rest out. The problem is the planes. They're tight on fuel. They had to take off with what they had. They don't want to send them all to one base at once either. Probably draw a lot of Variant attention and risk another base getting attacked.”

  “Sarg, bottom line it for me,” Black said. “Where the hell are the planes?”

  “Circling the city. The military had to move the firebombing up.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “I wish I was. We were heading to CHOP ourselves, but I just changed it to a new secure location outside the city. I'm calling Atkins and CHOP as soon as I get off the horn with you.”

  “Where's the new location?”

  “Horsham Air Guard Station. Grab the princess and everybody else and make your way there. It's a straight shot there if you take Route 611.”

  “Wouldn't the highway be faster?”

  “No, it wouldn't. Route 611 is clear because the National Guard bulldozed the cars to the side so they could get their troop transports and heavy equipment into the city.”

  “Okay, good to know.”

  “Black, don't dick around or drag your feet. You got less than two hours to get the hell out of Philly before the F-16s start dropping their ordnance.”

  Chapter Twelve

  1 Hour Fifty Minutes Left

  There was a rising exchange of voices, and Black walked over to investigate.

  “What's going on?” he asked.

  “You know how you said everybody goes in pairs?” Logan said. “Well, he's refused to go on along with your orders.”

  “Who?”

  “Professor Bruckerman. Said he had to take a dump.”

  “You're kidding, right?”

  “I wish I was,” Logan said. He pointed towards a closed door. “He's in there.”

  Black marched over to the door and sla
mmed his fist against it twice.

  “What?” Bruckerman yelled.

  “Open the door.”

  “No, I'm not going to do that. I'm doing number two. I've had to go for hours, but I was too scared,” Bruckerman complained. “Now that you soldier boys are here, I can go in peace without worrying about being attacked.”

  “We're SWAT, not soldiers.”

  “Whatever,” Bruckerman said. “I don't want to go poop in front of an audience. This room is better than nothing. Besides, it's perfectly safe in here.”

  “We can't protect you if you're in there alone,” Black said. “I strongly suggest you open the door and let someone else stand guard to protect you.”

  “I'm fifty-seven years old,” Bruckerman complained. “I don't need anyone holding my hand, especially one of my students. End of discussion.”

  “You have three minutes and then we are leaving without you,” Black said. “End of discussion.”

  “Wait, leave? We can't leave without him,” Logan said. “He's our teacher. He's, you know, one of us.”

  Black was getting ready to tell the young student how wrong he was when Spags walked up.

  “Sarg, you got a minute?” Spags interrupted.

  Black turned his attention to his squadmate. “What's up?”

  “Ammo redistribution is done. All of the civilians are ready to move out.”

  “That's good,” Black said. “Problem is we got one certified asshole who insisted on using the bathroom by himself and locked the door.”

  “Let me guess, Bruckerman is the certified?”

  “Ding, ding, ding.”

  “You want me to tell him to hurry up?”

  “Sure, go feel free to bang on the door as much as you like,” Black said. “Our timeline just got moved up. Remind him we're leaving in three minutes with or without him.”

  “With pleasure,” Spags said as he headed towards the bathroom. Black couldn't help but grin. If any member of his team would get joy out of tapping on the door to annoy the hell out of the arrogant professor, it was definitely Spags.

  Black activated his comm system. “Hawkins, what’s the situation on the girl?”

  “Her name is Kate,” Hawkins replied. “Still unresponsive. Cindy said she just banged her head, but one of the other students is claiming she's infected.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I'm not sure. Except for some marks on her ankle, I can't find any injuries that lead me to believe she was bitten. If she fell, maybe she scraped her ankle too.”

  “Yeah, it's possible,” Black said. “Okay, see what you can find that we can use to transport the girl. The Rummel woman is refusing to leave without her best friend.”

  “I'm on it, boss.”

  Black disengaged the comm, paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, and then reengaged it. “MRAP 2, come in.”

  “MRAP 2 here.”

  “Gimble, what's your current situation?”

  “I'm two blocks from your original drop-off point. I had to move because of nosy neighbors.”

  “Civilians?”

  “About thirty dead ones, sir.”

  “Gotcha. We're leaving the bunker in about three minutes. We'll need exfil for nine people in approximately twenty minutes.”

  “Copy that. I recommend another pick-up point as I just left the alleyway a few minutes ago.”

  Black paused for a minute before speaking “How about the front of the Singh building?” he asked. “It's a shorter distance for us and you can pull up near the stairs.”

  “That works,” Gimble said. “If you get there before me, just hang tight.”

  “I'm estimating twenty minutes. We have three shooters bringing in six civilians.”

  “Wait, did you say three shooters?”

  “Affirmative. Lost Nico enroute.”

  “Shit. Damn sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah, so are we. Listen, I'm hoping it's smooth sailing to get to the entrance, but we have three flights of stairs to navigate first. If the route is clean, we might be there sooner.”

  “I'll do my best, boss. But I don't recommend I show up early. If I'm sitting there with the engine running, the noise could draw a lot of unwanted attention. Unless of course you feel like killing a few dozen Variants before you get into the MRAP.”

  “Okay, point taken. I'll see you in twenty. If our timetable changes, I'll call you.”

  “Sounds good. Stay safe. Gimble out.”

  Black cut the call to the MRAP. “Okay, our ride is on its way,” he said. “Gather only what you absolutely need. We are leaving in five minutes.”

  ***

  Three minutes later, Black was standing near the exit with his team and the rest of the civilians. He glanced at his watch. Despite Spags having repeatedly knocked on the door, it was obvious the self-absorbed professor was going to use every minute given to answer nature's call. Eventually his man had given up and moved to help ensure everybody else was ready to go. Black scanned the room once again. The civilians had done a pretty good job choosing this location as a safe haven. The walls were pure cinder block, and the only door into the space was a heavy-duty security door that had withstood the Variant attacks. They were below ground, which meant there was only one staircase to worry about a potential attack coming, and that led to the only door. Black looked up at the ceiling and decided to count the number of spots on the ceiling tiles. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted one of the tiles moving. He turned his attention to the drop ceiling tile again. And then it hit him. The bunker had a drop ceiling. He was about to order one of his men to kick in the makeshift bathroom's door and haul Bruckerman out when the pompous man suddenly let out a scream of agony.

  “Move!” Black ordered two students who were in the way as he rushed towards the bathroom door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hawkins moving to back him up. Black kicked the door with a practiced motion, breaking the flimsy lock immediately.

  What he saw made his stomach flip.

  There was blood everywhere, and two Variants were engaged in a primordial game of tug of war using the still-alive Bruckerman as their own personal rope. One of the Variants yanked and tore the professor's arm off. There was an immediate spray of arterial blood and the man screamed once again.

  Black planted his feet and fired a double tap into the head of the Variant to his left. He was rewarded with the monster's head splashing against the bathroom's back wall. Without pausing to admire his kill shot, Black spun and fired three shots at the second Variant. The first shot struck the monster center mass. The second one hit the Variant in the throat, with the final bullet ending its life for good when it struck the creature in the eye.

  “Boss,” Hawkins shouted. “The ceiling is moving.”

  Black looked above the fallen professor and saw a displaced ceiling tile.

  “Help me,” Bruckerman gasped. All it took was a single look and Black knew the man wasn't going to make it. There was a loud screech from the ceiling. A second voice and then a third one answered, and all of them sounded even closer to his location.

  Black turned his attention to the fallen man. “May God have mercy on your soul,” Black said. He saw Bruckerman close his eyes a moment before Black fired a single shot which struck the stricken man in the forehead. Black started to backtrack towards the bunker's steel door. “Bruckerman's dead and we're about to get company. Spags, take point. Hawkins, cover him. I got rear guard. Let's get everybody else the hell out of here.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  1 Hour Forty-Seven Minutes Left

  Black grabbed the steel pole near the entrance to the bunker as he backed out of the room. He pulled the bunker door shut against the frame and jammed the pole through the handle. He'd never heard of a Variant opening a door before but if they tried to open this one, they'd find it was jammed shut. At the very least it would force any monsters chasing them to find another route to get to them. Those minutes gained could mean the difference between gettin
g out of the building alive or perishing in it.

  Black turned his attention towards the staircase. He saw that Spags had taken point as directed and Hawkins had herded the civilians in between them. They hadn't been able to find or jury-rig a stretcher, so Logan and another man whose name escaped him were carrying the still-unconscious Kate in tandem. “Hawkins, I got rear guard. Move up and take a middle position. Triangle formation, men.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  It was less than ideal but with three shooters, Black needed to keep one man flexible to move forward or drop back and offer fire support depending on where they needed to repel attackers.

  Black watched as Spags started moving up the stairs. The man held his SMG in front of him, scanning left to right as he moved. The rest of the group followed closely behind with Hawkins positioned in the middle. Satisfied the civilians were going to keep moving quickly and quietly, Black retreated up the stairs, watching the path behind them for any incoming Variants.

  Spags made it to the second floor landing before holding up his fist. “Three hostiles approximately seventy yards ahead,” he whispered over the comms. “They're not moving. What do you want to do, boss?”

  “Hold up. Let's give them a minute and see if they move away on their own. If they start coming our way, you take them down.”

  “Copy that,” Spags said as he sighted the group through his scope.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Black saw Michelle move to cover her mouth a split second before she sneezed. The sound echoed through the staircase. There was an immediate growl from one of the Variants above them. Then a second and third one also sounded out.

  “Fuck, they made us,” Spags said. He unleashed a dozen bullets, ripping through the monsters' flesh. Screams rang out above and below them.

  “Everybody up the stairs now,” Black shouted. “Hawkins, move to support Spags.” He saw Hawkins move his way forward and take position to Spags' left.

  The group moved as one up the stairs and as Black reached the second floor landing, there was a loud bang against the door. Black looked at the door's window and saw there were several Variants pushing against it. One of the monsters looked through the glass, spotted him, and yelled. The fury of their activity immediately doubled and with each blow, the door pushed against the zip ties keeping it shut. It was only a matter of time before one of the ties holding the door closed broke.

 

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