by Bob Blink
The Sixth Extinction
Bob Blink
Chapter 1
Washington, D.C.
June, 2083
The police were quick to respond. This was Washington D.C. after all, and a call from the residence of one of the country's foremost lawmakers took priority over almost anything. Several calls from neighbors had been received within minutes of one another, all reporting a series of shots coming from the normally quiet home of Senator Burkland.
Detective Sgt. Mike Lee stepped from the unmarked police car, noting that several other police units, both unmarked and patrol units, were responding as well. First to arrive, and senior to the detectives in the second car, he immediately took control. His partner had already made a call for SWAT team assistance, but given the situation, he decided it would be ill advised to wait for their arrival.
"Two down," Smitty said in his nasal twang, pointing to the bodies on the lawn.
Sgt. Lee had already spotted them, noting that one was dressed in the uniform of a security firm that he knew was favored by many of the area's wealthy and powerful. The other body was dressed mostly in black, and appeared to have been shot in the neck. He wondered if that was intentional in an attempt to avoid the vest he could see under the dark clothing, or whether it was a lucky shot by the security guard before he died. Lee couldn't help thinking that the wiser shot would have been to target the pelvic area below the vest. That would have surely disabled the attacker and they'd have a live suspect to interrogate.
Both men had been equipped with the same make handgun, ninth generation M&P's from Springfield Armory's Smith and Wesson division. That was hardly a surprise. It was the only handgun currently manufactured in the United States, and other than highly regulated collector's items for which some individuals had licenses to reload for, the only handgun for which ammunition was currently being manufactured. The model hadn't changed in as long as Lee could remember, and it had driven the Glock, which refused to add the government required tracking hardware, off the market. It fired a .41 caliber, self-propelling caseless cartridge unique to the weapon. The microcrystal embedded in the recovered slugs would reveal a great deal about the shooters. The weapon was designed to encode upon discharge the name of the person registered to the handgun, and therefore by design the only person capable of firing it. It also would have recorded the time and date the round had been fired along with the GPS location of the discharge. The name of the factory and date the round had been manufactured was automatically encoded into the bullet's microcrystal upon manufacture.
Lee checked the downed shooter while Smitty did the same with the security guard. Smitty shook his head indicating the guard was gone. Two dead so far, Lee noted grimly.
A short distance from the residence, a battered white van with one of the headlamps shattered sat in the center of the manicured lawn, doors still ajar. That had to be the vehicle that had smashed through the gate and allowed the attackers to get inside. Direct, and not at all stealthy, it seemed to have worked for the attackers this time, although their plan was flawed. They were still inside while Lee and his men were closing in on them. He had no intention of allowing the surviving attackers to escape, and hoped to be in time to save the life of the Senator.
Lee quickly assessed the manpower he had available. He indicated that the senior detective in the second car take control of several of the uniformed officers and secure the outside areas, including the back of the residence, while he, Smitty, and a pair of uniforms would check out the inside. A pair of shots from within the upscale residence swept aside any consideration he might have had about waiting for further backup. He could imagine the political flack that would result if the Senator died while he waited outside for additional support.
Nodding to Smitty, they started for the front door which, like the security gate to the property, was standing ajar. Their M&P's held ready for quick action, they made the standard entry, quickly scanning the area inside the open entryway for any sign of the assailants. Other than the body of a second security guard, the area was deserted.
Procedure called for a careful clearing of this level before proceeding to the upper floor, but Sgt. Lee was certain that was where the Senator would be found. He was about to indicate that he wanted them to make their way to the upper level when several shots rained down on them from behind the open railing that extended most of the way across the upper level. He heard the sound of the subsonic rounds as they passed all too close to him, and spotted several impacts into the wall to his left. He heard one of the patrolmen grunt as a round struck home, and Smitty cursed suggesting he might also have been tagged by one of the deadly projectiles. Lee knew he'd have a lot of paperwork to file to justify his decision to move without full support.
Smitty and one of the surviving patrolmen were quick to return fire, sending almost a dozen rounds toward the spot where the bright muzzle flash marked the location of the shooter. Most of the rounds passed through the railing displaying no evidence of their passage, but a couple struck low enough to create small craters in the plaster and wood.
Lee was already on his way up the stairs, moving quickly with his weapon at the ready, half expecting to be on the receiving end of another burst of gunfire. He was counting on the covering fire Smitty and the patrolmen were providing to get him safely to the upper level. Reaching the top, he found cover behind one of the stout wood and marble pillars that provided the ornate decoration for the staircase. Heart hammering in his chest, he scanned the wide hallway leading toward the source of the ambush, not failing to note the third security guard dead a short distance away. Another body was down close to where Smitty had been shooting, this one in the same dark clothing as the dead intruder outside. Down, but maybe not dead. He kept his weapon trained on the body, ready to add a couple of his own rounds to the fray should the individual show any aggression. His eyes scanned the area for any sign of additional shooters. He wished he knew how many there were. The van could have easily held up to eight men.
He signaled for Smitty to follow him up the stairs, just as a single shot rang out near the back of the house. Not good, he thought. That could well be where the Senator would be located.
"Cover me," he ordered, once Smitty and one of the patrolmen made it to the upper level with him. The patrolman stayed in place, weapon held ready to return fire should another shooter make his presence known, but Smitty assumed that Lee's words meant he was to stay with him and help keep his partner alive.
They moved down the hallway, stepping past the body on the floor. The amount of blood pooling under the body left no doubt that this shooter wouldn't be a further problem. Like the shooter out front, this one wore a black pullover which covered a tactical vest. Another of the familiar handguns lay on the carpet a short distance away. He wondered why they hadn't chosen something more capable for the attack, since a full-sized assault rifle would have been no harder to acquire. All weapons were on a tightly controlled access list. It would be informative to learn where and how these men had acquired theirs.
Moving quickly, Smitty a half step behind on his left, Sgt. Lee made his way toward the set of double doors near the end of the hallway. They were forced to split and move toward the edge of the hall as a dark figure abruptly stepped out and fired a series of shots their way. Holes appeared in the wall next to Smitty as Detective Lee fired a controlled pair of shots at the figure who was now heading toward an alcove farther down the hall opposite the doors where he'd appeared. One of the shots looked like it connected as the figure briefly stumbled, but then recovered and stepped into the recess, disappearing from sight.
Verifying that Smitty was okay beyond the slight flesh wound received on the lower level, the two men hurried after the retrea
ting figure. Weapons ready as they approached the recess in the wall, they made the turn from well-separated positions.
"He's gone!" Smitty noted, as they stared into the decorative alcove that extended less than five feet before coming to an abrupt end. There was a small potted tree, nowhere big enough for a person to hide behind. The walls were bare. There were no windows nor doors, the walls with expensive marble halfway up the sides all the way around. There was no place for the intruder to have gone, yet he was clearly not there.
"Where in hell did he go?" Lee cursed. They had both seen the man duck into the short recess. The hall the attacker had turned away from when he entered the small alcove ended in a large fixed viewing window half a dozen steps farther down the passageway, so he couldn't have gone that way. Smitty was running his hands along the walls seeking anything that might indicate a hidden panel or something that might explain the man's disappearance. Lee turned quickly at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall toward them. He relaxed when he spotted the uniformed patrolman who had fought his way up the stairs with Smitty.
"Sergeant," he said, with a look of uncertainty on his face. "We have a problem."
"Go on," Lee said impatiently when the man hesitated and seemed uncertain how to proceed.
"The body disappeared," the cop said worriedly.
"What body?" Lee asked.
"The man we shot back down the hall. One moment he was laying there dead, and the next he wasn't there at all. I looked away when Charlie hollered at me, and when I looked back he was gone."
Detective Lee looked at the man wondering if he'd lost his mind.
"He was dead. I could see that when we passed him. He couldn't just get up and walk off."
Nervously, the cop licked his lips. "It's worse than that. The body is gone, so is the gun, and there is no sign the man was ever there."
More heavily outfitted officers were arriving indicating the SWAT team had arrived. Leaving Smitty with several of the new arrivals, Lee headed back with the patrolman to have a look at the spot where the dead man had been. The cop had been telling the truth. The bullet holes marked the spot well enough, but there was no body, and surprisingly no blood either.
Sgt. Lee explained the anomaly to the SWAT commander, who ordered a complete search of the residence. The missing shooter was never found, nor were the bodies of the other two intruders that had been killed. The dead one out front had vanished just as mysteriously as the two other men. In the end, the bodies of three security men, the Senator, and his butler were all accounted for, but nothing was found from the invaders. A careful search of the crime scene would also fail to turn up any of the bullets in the residence or in the victims of the attack.
* * * * *
"That went well enough," Glenn Walker said as he stared at the video of the attack on the screen in front of them. Walker looked very much like the man that Sgt. Lee had seen coming out of the room where the Senator's body would be found. At six foot, one inch, Walker was a handsome, thirtyish appearing individual. Muscular, with very dark brown eyes and black hair, he had a thin scar that encircled his left arm. He wore a comfortable one-piece garment with his name over the right pocket. Over the left pocket was the inscription, "Sequoia Facility, Managing Director".
"Sloppy," Joe complained staring uncomfortably at the screen. Dressed in a similar outfit, Joe hadn't been happy with how the raid had gone. "We could have done it without all the dramatics," he complained.
"I wanted to be certain our consulting engineers were right," Glenn explained.
The room they were in, located well away from the normal control area, was configured with work positions for at least a dozen men, but all were all dark except that of Zack Harriman, a specialist who was completely loyal to Glenn, and while he lacked the technical knowledge to make the modifications that had resulted in the importation of the outsider engineers, he was more than capable enough for the task at hand.
"Even with what was seen and the involvement of the police, we want to be certain this won't cause any lasting issues and the events in DC won't ripple unfavorably to the other cities," Glenn added.
Zack nodded his understanding. "Those killed have already been automatically cleared from the system just as the incident we discovered last month suggested would happen," he noted. "That was something we couldn't do ourselves. We will watch for a couple of days for any ripple effects, but I believe there will be no complications."
After a moment Glenn nodded and said, "I want a full report in the morning. This incident is not to be shared with anyone besides myself and Joe, understood?"
Zack smiled and nodded, then watched silently as the Director and his right-hand man walked away.
Chapter 2
Sequoia Facility
June
The next morning in his residence, Glenn Walker considered where things were at as he read the report summarizing the impacts of yesterday's action that Zack had waiting for him when he arrived. The eradication the day before had gone extremely well and a study of the system showed no undesirable consequences of the action he and his companions had taken. The first steps in his plan to adjust the way things were going to end up had been successful. That meant they could consider proceeding as he hoped. Having time, and being naturally cautious, he'd give it some time before initiating the next action.
Glenn checked his watch and realized it was time to go. He grabbed his communicator, and headed toward the exit. He stepped out of his apartment building and entered the massive cavern where he had spent so many years of his life. Artificial lighting, special solid-state devices that literally lasted nearly forever as well as producing a light that very closely matched natural sunlight, simulated daytime. They followed a pattern that mimicked the familiar twenty-four hour rhythm the human body expected. The lights were bright enough that the dull rocky ceiling was mostly hidden from view, which helped make the enhanced cave seem larger and more open.
The main area, greatly expanded from the natural caverns that had been long known to exist under the mountains in this area of California, had been made by connecting a series of large caves and underground chambers with the removal of massive amounts of rock and soil. Roughly four miles wide and eight long, with dozens of adjacent caverns sprouting off in all directions along the perimeter, it was aligned roughly in a direction so the longest axis was pointed in north-south direction. In all, a little over forty square miles of underground living space was available in the place. The government had spared no effort nor expense to make this advanced and very secret facility fully self sufficient and technologically capable of performing the unusual mission assigned to it. The government could afford to do that when they wanted something bad enough. At the highest point the stone ceiling was just over a hundred and fifty feet above the floor. The average height was closer to eighty feet, although in some areas it dropped to a mere twenty feet.
As he trudged along the well-worn and familiar path that led down the main street toward his dining hall, one of ten such facilities in the residential area serving the roughly five thousand men and women that lived here, he spotted others making the trek toward breakfast. There were no children in the complex by design. Like him, those he noticed were the latecomers, those who had no early morning work assignment which had allowed them to avoid the usual morning rush. Food was cooked in a huge kitchen near the center of the complex, then distributed by robotic carriers to the various dining facilities, where consumers selected what they wanted in a buffet style environment. The arrangement was both energy and manpower efficient, which was why it was done this way.
"G'morning, Glenn," a somewhat husky but alluring voice greeted him from behind.
He recognized Jessica Anderson's husky drawl immediately, and turned as he slowed to smile at her. Jessica was an off-and-on-again part time fling, which was the nature of many of the relationships in this unusual community. A petite blond, with a quick wit and a gregarious nature, he hadn't spent the night with her
in almost a month, and realized he would enjoy getting back together with her once again. She was the total opposite of his ex-wife, who thankfully was not among those at the facility, who had dumped him before he was assigned here calling him a power hungry control freak. While not a high priority, she was on a list he kept in the back of his mind for future resolution.
"Jessica," he smiled warmly. Despite what his Ex had believed, he could be Mr. Personality when he wished, and turned on the charm as the slender woman caught up and leaned in to buss his cheek with a friendly peck. It appeared he wasn't in trouble for his neglect.
"Day off?" he asked as they pulled apart. She worked at the main computer center as a programmer, where she managed the software that ran the facility, overseeing the infrequent tweaks that were required from time to time. It wasn't a demanding job, since the system had been carefully thought out, but periodically small changes were deemed desirable, and Jessica was the one who had to approve any request and sign off on the code changes before they were inserted into the system.
"A whole month off," she replied. "I'm on my way to breakfast, then on to the Resort to head off on vacation later today."
So much for any thoughts he'd have they might get together soon. And, if he had to guess, when she returned, she'd be relaxed, well bedded, and well fed, and not nearly as randy as he would be. He'd have to look elsewhere now that she'd triggered his baser desires.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Caribbean," she replied with a smile. "Sun, sand, water, and lots of cute beach boys. Or, you could come with me?" she asked examining him to see how he'd react.
They both knew he wouldn't take her up on the suggestion. For one thing, scheduled vacations were carefully controlled to ensure a smooth flow of activities during the absence of the individual, and one of the purposes was to get time away from the same familiar faces. Glenn didn't know but a few people who had spent their month off together, and those were people who had bonded long term or were off on a hiking or exploration adventure where they wanted a known companion.
