Landshark

by Brian Tormanen

  Geddon felt the tingling sensation of paranoia spreading like a web in the back of his mind.

  “Of course. I understand. The accident hasn’t impacted our game plan. We had a backup in place and he’s being prepped now as we speak.”

  “The shepherd couldn’t be rehabilitated?”

  “Unfortunately not. His PTSD regressed to the point of failure. I thought of sending both dogs at one point but that’s not possible now. Our Mal’s an outstanding dog, though, and he’ll get the job done.”

  “Has the Malinois been augmented?”

  “No, ma’am. We had too many post-procedure complications and lost too many dogs. Since the Mal was our last backup, we kept him standard.”

  Geddon pictured Odin wearing a tactical vest with a camera and audio. It would work well enough for remote monitoring and control for Cooper to do his job. Richter was too quiet. Geddon guessed what she was thinking.

  “That’s unfortunate. What about the shepherd and his handler?”

  Geddon sipped his Scotch and considered telling Richter his plan, but he knew she wouldn’t approve. It would be better to ask for forgiveness later than permission now. Decker could always be removed later if needed.

  “It’s being handled,” he said.

  “—Excellent. I’ll trust that you’ll execute all protocols with extreme prejudice. We don’t need any loose ends coming back to haunt us, do we?”

  “No, ma’am. And yes, extreme prejudice.”

  “Well, then. I suppose congratulations are in order, Colonel. You’ve had a personal stake in this program for a very long time. It’s partly why we recruited you, and now at long last, the time has finally come.”

  “Thank you, ma’am, but I’ll feel better when we put Al Qaeda in the grave for good. What’s the ETA on our plane?”

  “It will be in the air to Hickam as soon as we end our call. And, Colonel, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, but I will. Make sure our dog is on that plane. I don’t want to hear of any more unfortunate accidents.”

  Richter signed off and the screen returned to the logo of the black eagle. Geddon pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. After so long, they were finally ready. Once Z9/11 was released, the virus would take out Hamza bin Laden, Al Qaeda’s inner circle, and probably an entire city. And if it kept spreading through hajji-land, that was fine with Geddon, too. There’d be fewer Islamic extremists to deal with later, which was Project Landshark’s ultimate goal.

  He glanced at the picture on his desk of his late son wearing his army dress uniform and standing in front of the American flag. Ryan was on his way to a prestigious career until his life was cut tragically short on 9/11. When American Airlines Flight 77 smashed into the Pentagon, exploding into a jet-fueled fireball, it killed more than just Ryan and 124 others—it killed something inside of Geddon.

  The loss left a crater in his heart but now, finally, he would fill it with the souls of his enemies, one by one. Geddon held up his glass to his son’s picture and knocked it back.

  God bless America.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  The van drove inside the tunnel and the door began to swing shut behind it. This was Jake’s only chance. He slipped the bandanna around his face and rushed for the entrance, squeezing through just in time. Expecting to be met by guards or lab workers, Jake was surprised to find neither. It was a large loading dock area for deliveries and storage. The air felt clammy and stagnant despite the artificial ventilation.

  While the van parked at the loading dock, Jake scampered behind a large yellow storage container. It had biohazard placards on the front and sides. Gasping quietly, he peeked around the edge of the container. Two men dressed head to toe in black military uniforms exited the van.

  It was Cooper and Harding. What the hell were they doing here?

  The van’s side panel door opened and a middle-aged Asian man in a tan suit hopped out. He stepped aside as Cooper and Harding went into the van and dragged out a person wearing a crimson Washington State T-shirt and a black hood over their head. Harding pulled the hood off, revealing an older man with white hair. He was slumped over, unconscious.

  The Suit retrieved a wheelchair and they sat the man down, zip-tying his arms and legs to the supports. The men worked with silent efficiency. The door at the end of the loading dock opened.

  A tall Asian man in a white lab coat came out to greet them, the same man Jake had seen the other day. Was that Dr. Sato? The men exchanged business-like nods. Harding pushed the wheelchair through the door as the rest followed into the bowels of Diamond Head.

  Jake was losing his mind. What the hell did he just see? Likely something that would make Geddon willing to hand over Koa—or quite possibly get them both killed.

  After scoping the area, Jake realized there was no other way to go. He had to follow the men and their captive. Jake listened at the door and heard nothing. He opened it slowly. Inside was an empty, brightly lit corridor. Time to go exploring.

  Because of the volcanic rock insulation, the temperature felt at least fifteen degrees cooler. The corridor was identical to the others he’d seen before: floors of polished concrete, walls and ceilings of rough, textured rock mounted with panel lights. There was a faint hum of fans coming from the ceiling air duct running the length of the corridor.

  There was no sign of the men when he came to a T-intersection. If in doubt, turn left. He went down a short corridor with old-school metal doors on either side. The closest door was C-1. He assumed he was in C wing, which implied there were others.

  There was no indication what the room was used for, but there was a keycard reader on the wall. He tried his badge. Nothing. Not surprisingly, his card wasn’t programmed for this area. He moved on.

  While passing door C-5, he heard a sound. Jake stopped and put his ear to the door. A warning growl came from the other side. A chill began snaking down Jake’s spine just as a heavy object slammed into the door from the inside. Something began sniffing at the bottom of the door like a dog.

  Jake got down on his hands and knees to look. The gap was too small to see anything but a sliver of moving shadow. Sonofabitch, they put a dog in here? Jake put his head flat on the floor. The sniffing sound stopped.

  “Hey, boy,” Jake whispered under the door. “You okay in there?”

  Small fingers shot from under the door, scraping the skin to the bone. Jake recoiled.

  “Shit!”

  The fingers jerked frantically as if trying to reach him. The fingers vanished back beneath the door, followed by a blood-curdling shriek.

  Jake winced from the piercing scream and scrambled away. The sound of voices and pounding boots soon echoed from another corridor.

  Someone was coming.

  Jake frantically looked for a place to hide and noticed the cameras in the ceiling. His face was covered, but he had to move. Now. He ran to the end of the corridor and looked around the corner.

  To the left was the glass walled laboratory. Lab techs wearing biohazard suits were too busy working to notice him. To the right was an administration and storage area. There were two rooms with gray metal doors. Jake went right, hugging the wall. Just as he turned the corner, he heard voices behind him.

  “What the hell you all worked up about?”

  Someone banged and thumped on the door.

  “Shut the fuck up! You’ll get your chow soon.”

  It was Cooper and Harding. The men laughed as they came Jake’s way. He rushed for the nearest office door and tried it. Locked. He ducked behind a large generator just as Cooper and Harding turned the corner. They walked past him and kept going.

  “Wait till that old geezer gets a load of his new roommate,” Cooper said.

  “You mean a viral load?” Harding replied.

  More laughs.

  Jake peeked around the corner. Cooper and Harding turned down another corridor and disappeared. These tunnels were like a labyrinth and Jake was lost. Inside the offices might be an evacuation map, so he tried
a different door. Also locked. Then Jake remembered his multi-tool.

  He flipped the knife out. While most doors had modern access controls, these looked to be from World War Two. Jake fit the blade between the latch like a Slim Jim and popped it open. He snuck inside the room, shutting the door behind him.

  Jake’s blood ran cold. The room was pitch-black and he couldn’t see shit, not even his hand in front of his face. He imagined that shrieking thing inside here with him, reaching for his neck with bloody fingers. Holding his breath, he felt along the wall for a light switch and flipped it on.

  It was an office. A black metal desk with a computer and monitor were shoved against a wood-paneled wall. A video camera was mounted atop the monitor. The whiteboard was covered with hand-written lab lingo and equations. Jake sucked at math, so it might as well have been Chinese. There was also a drawing of a… shark fin? He couldn’t tell.

  Jake looked behind the door and found the map. A big red dot with the words YOU ARE HERE indicated he was now in D wing. There were four wings altogether, A–D. The tunnel entrance near the admin building was off B wing. Not far. It was shortest distance to an exit, but whom—or what—might he run into on the way out?

  Jake went to the computer. The desk was covered in coffee-stained papers and sticky notes. The black Dell keyboard had food crumbs stuck between the keys. Whoever’s office this was practically lived here.

  He tapped the keyboard to wake the computer and the monitor turned on. The screen displayed a warning message above the login screen: AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY. A user named 5Lx83f02 was logged in, but the computer was locked.

  Jake yanked his bandanna down and drummed his fingers on the keyboard. He tried “password” with various combinations and numbers. All denied. A message appeared, saying he’d be locked out after one more wrong attempt. As a last resort, he lifted the keyboard and found a yellow sticky note. It said “M@halo!” Jake entered the password. It worked.

  “Thank you, dumb ass.”

  Several folders and files were on the computer’s desktop. Jake opened a folder labeled VLOGS. Inside were video files going back two years, according to the date and time stamps. Jake clicked play on a recent one. A window popped up and a man’s face appeared. It was the Asian man in the lab coat, likely Dr. Sato. He had cold, reptilian eyes.

  “July tenth. Twenty eighteen. Z9/11 stage four. Variances remain in incubation and latency times, depending on the age and health of the host. Research and testing is ongoing, but high velocity transmission looks promising. Cell replication time is decreasing while viral mutation is advancing to new levels—”

  Jake stopped the video and found others with similar updates. A bad feeling began creeping over him like a hairy spider. He tried another folder called LOG_TESTS and clicked on one of the videos.

  A young boy of ten to twelve stood in the corner of a small empty room. He had brown skin and curly dark hair. He turned as Dr. Sato entered the room. He held a long-barreled pistol in his hand, raised it, and fired. The young boy recoiled, grabbing something lodged in his torso—a dart. Dr. Sato left the room as the boy sat down hard in the corner.

  What the fuck?

  He shot a kid with a fucking dart! Jake watched in disbelief. He fast-forwarded the video, but the kid remained sitting in the corner, rocking himself back and forth. Jake stopped the video, his throat suddenly dry. He found another folder called LANDSHARKS. He randomly chose a file with a date-and-time stamp of a year ago and clicked play.

  The grainy video showed another small holding cell. A grungy-looking man with long hair crouched on the floor in the corner. He could have been one of the many homeless people scratching by on the streets of Honolulu.

  The man turned to the door as someone entered with a Dutch shepherd on a leash. Jake leaned closer and gawked. The man holding the leash was Cooper.

  The dog began barking and lunging aggressively. Cooper pointed and the dog tore into the man’s leg. There was no audio, but Jake imagined the man’s cries of helpless terror. Cooper stood there and watched. After several seconds, Cooper pulled the dog off and they hurriedly left the room. The man was left squirming on the floor.

  Jake had seen enough. He was about to stop the video when the man suddenly sat up. His arms and legs began to spasm and shake. His head jerked violently to the left and right. He turned his head toward the camera and opened his mouth in a silent scream. The man jumped up and ran at the door, smashing into it. He bounced off and fell to the floor, got up, and tried again.

  Jake felt nauseous as a terrible realization came over him. Cooper’s dog had infected that man, perhaps with whatever Dr. Sato had mentioned in the video. The kid. Jesus Christ, was he that shrieking thing in the cell?

  The briefing with Geddon began replaying in Jake’s mind, and suddenly, the goal of project Landshark became clear: canine bioweapons. But if they were willing to kill insurgents by infecting them with a virus, how would they control it? How could they control it? What if it led to…

  Geddon. If he was willing to commit mass murder, he would stop at nothing. He never intended to let Jake adopt Koa in the first place. He just wanted his dog to help him kill untold scores of people. That sonofabitch.

  Proof. Reeling from the shock of what he just saw, Jake had to remind himself what he came for. These files were evidence he could take to the FBI, but he needed copies. Jake began opening and searching desk drawers for USB thumb drives or CDs. Of course, there were none.

  He took out his cell phone to record a video of the media files. Suddenly, the office door flew open with a bang and there was Dr. Sato. Gloating behind him were Cooper and Harding. They each drew their sidearm.

  “Why, hello, Mr. Decker. I don’t believe we have met. I’m Dr. Sato.” He pulled out his cell phone. “For added security, my computer sends me a text whenever it logs in. Find anything interesting?”

  “Yeah, enough to see you all hang,” Jake said. “You’re one sick fuck, doctor. Testing on dogs, people, even kids! And you guys, you’re involved in this, too?”

  Sato stepped closer and smiled. “Logs, Mr. Decker. Just logs. Their sacrifice is for the common good and vitally important to the success of our project.”

  “Yeah, I know all about your project now. Spreading your sick fucking virus to the human race—killing innocents? You have any idea what that will lead to?”

  “Why, yes. The elimination of those who wish to do us harm and to strike them before they strike us. I’m quite sure Colonel Geddon would agree. He has a rather personal perspective.”

  Sato motioned to Cooper. Harding moved to the side, giving him a better firing angle. Jake felt his chances of saving Koa slipping away. He had to do something.

  “Stand up, nice and slow, Gimpy.”

  Jake stood and untied his bandanna. He put it in his pocket, gripping the multi-tool at the bottom. Cooper’s eyes followed Jake’s hand. He raised his Glock 17, aiming for Jake’s forehead.

  “Whatever you got in there, go for it, Decker. Trust me, I’d be doing you a favor blowin’ your brains out right now.”

  “Easy now, Mr. Cooper,” Sato said. “My office is messy enough and I can use another log.”

  Cooper grinned. “See what I mean? Once the colonel finds out about this, your mutt’s getting’ put down… and you’re gonna wish you were, too.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Jake was thrown into a holding cell to await his fate. The room was identical to the one he saw in the video, but now it had the added scent of mold and stale piss. All he could think about was Koa. If what Cooper said was true, then Jake wasn’t going down without a fight. A quick death sounded better than whatever Dr. Sato had in mind for him.

  Sitting in the corner with his knees against his chest, Jake wondered what time it was. He had no watch and they had taken his cell phone. Hours went by. He thought of ways to fight his way out when they came for him. He had no weapons and hand-to-hand combat was never his forte, but he had to try—or end up like that thing in
the other cell.

  More time passed before he began feeling drowsy. He heard Koa coming down the corridor, the tick-tick-tick of his metal claws. Thudding combat boots came to a stop outside his cell.

  The door opened, rusty hinges squealing in protest, and in walked Koa on carbon fiber legs. Bloody, titanium claws protruded from his paws. Koa was leashed, and on the other end of it was Cooper, staring down at him.

  “This here’s a real Landshark, Decker.”

  A deep, rumbling growl came from Koa’s throat. His lips peeled back, exposing titanium-capped teeth. Koa’s eyes were gone, replaced with empty sockets in his once handsome black and tan face. Cooper smiled and dropped Koa’s leash.

  “Stellen!”

  Jake snapped awake, shuddering. Christ, what if that was what Dr. Sato had planned for him? Jake would end up as just another test subject in a VLOG file, killed by his own dog. He wondered how long he’d been sleeping. He had completely lost track of time.

  A while later, approaching footsteps stopped outside his cell. Jake was sure he wasn’t dreaming, but he grew nervous anyway, expecting the worst. The door squealed open and in walked a person wearing a biohazard suit. The person took their hood off.

  It was Montoya. She quickly closed the cell door behind her.

  “Just another day at the office, huh, Montoya?”

  “Jake… I know this is all so…”

  “Fucked up? How could someone like you… I mean, I don’t even know you, but how could you be a part of this?”

  Montoya bowed her head and spoke to the dirty, paint-chipped floor.

  “Jake it’s complicated—”

  Jake stood to face her.

  “Complicated? They’re kidnapping people and experimenting on them. With fucking dogs!”

  “Enough!” Her eyes raged like storm clouds. “I know it’s awful. It’s disgusting and terrible. It wasn’t like this…” Her voice trailed off and she began pacing. “It wasn’t like this in the beginning. The program—the objectives—evolved over time. They became more ruthless and inhumane. Geddon spouting that it was for God and country, but he’s really just out for his own revenge.”