Paradise Hacked (First Circle Club Book 2)

by Siegel, Alex

  Stray bullets came flying through the wall, leaving holes which admitted beams of light.

  "Did you get hit?" Sara said.

  Mei shook her head. "I'm fine," she replied in a small, frightened voice. "I hope Lisa is OK."

  A groan made Sara look over at a young Hispanic man in a white uniform. He was clutching his upper chest, and bright red blood was leaking out between his fingers.

  Sara was accustomed to working with dead bodies, but she had received basic medical training, and her knowledge of human anatomy was without peer. The subclavian artery is punctured, she thought.

  "Lay down!" she ordered. "Somebody get me a knife! A clean knife!"

  The injured man gingerly laid down on the tile floor.

  Sara had the power to heal. She could close the wound by simply breathing on it, but she was afraid that wouldn't fix the artery buried in his chest. She had to cut him open so her breath could reach inside. His right arm was already an unhealthy pale color.

  "Where is that damn knife?" she yelled.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lisa heard Sara yelling from somewhere in the back of the store. Unfortunately, the soldiers also heard, and their attention focused in that direction.

  Lisa saw two men in black fatigues. She knew five had entered, so the other three had to be elsewhere in the building. She couldn't worry about them right now.

  She grabbed a bottle of tabasco sauce, broke off the glass top, and ran at the nearest adversary. He had barely turned around when she attacked. She kicked his rifle aside and threw tabasco sauce into his eyes. He grunted and tried to wipe his eyes. She used both hands to wrench the rifle out of his grip. Then she smashed his knee with the stock. He went down.

  The other soldier was one aisle over. Lisa climbed a shelf and used it to launch herself into the air. Screaming like one of Hell's harpies, she dropped onto the soldier. She was still holding the rifle, and she clubbed the soldier in the shoulder. She heard a pop as a bone broke.

  The fires of perdition were burning hot inside her. Lisa bashed the soldier again and again. She stopped when brains were leaking from his cracked skull.

  She realized she had lost control and already regretted what she had done. She dropped the rifle and took a moment to gather her wits.

  When Lisa felt a little calmer, she went off to find Sara and Mei. The voice had come from behind a door at the back of the store. Lisa tried the handle, but it was locked. She performed a spinning kick which blasted open the door.

  She charged through the opening. Sara, Mei, and four store clerks were hiding in a cluttered, poorly lit storage room. One of the clerks was bleeding badly from a shoulder wound. Sara was using a pocket knife to perform surgery on the injured man.

  "I disabled most of them," Lisa said. "Let's go!"

  Sara shook her head. "I have to fix this guy first."

  "No time."

  "If I leave now, this man will die." Sara was cutting into the clerk with painstaking care.

  "To hell with him!" Lisa yelled. "If we don't run now, we might never get out of here. I didn't take out all the soldiers. At least half those guys still have some fight in them."

  "Then take Mei and leave," Sara said calmly. "I'll catch up."

  "Huh? No!"

  Sara nodded to Mei. "Go with her. I'll be fine."

  Mei stood up. "What if they catch you?"

  "Then I'll talk to them like an adult instead of a frightened child. Go." Sara tossed the car keys to Lisa.

  Lisa frowned but didn't have time to argue. "Stay behind me," she told Mei. "I'm going to move fast."

  Lisa ran through the store. She encountered another soldier in a hallway. He had a startled expression as she clobbered him with a flying kick. She then dropped a knee onto his face, grabbed his sidearm, sprang back to her feet, and kept running.

  She looked back at Mei who was having trouble keeping up. "Come on!"

  Lisa burst out of the building through a back door. The blue Altima was there, but she hesitated. A homing device might explain how the military had tracked her down. Safer vehicles were available in front of the gas station, but going that way would risk another fight with the soldiers and put Mei into danger.

  Lisa looked past the car to homes behind the gas station. The neighborhood consisted of small, single-story houses. She grabbed Mei's hand and pulled her onwards.

  "What about Sara?" Mei said.

  "She thinks she's so smart," Lisa said. "She can take care of herself."

  * * *

  Sara had finally cut deep enough to expose the punctured artery. Blood gushed out with every heartbeat and was spreading across the floor. The injured man was getting visibly weaker.

  She leaned down and blew on the wound. She felt God's love and compassion flow through her mouth. The power of Heaven resided within her.

  The artery began to close up as if being stitched by an invisible surgeon. She exhaled again, and the puncture closed.

  The sound of a gun being cocked made her look at the door. Two soldiers had their rifles pointed at her head. Leg injuries forced them to stand awkwardly.

  "Be with you in a moment, gentlemen," Sara said.

  She focused on her patient again. His skin color had already improved, and he was more relaxed. She kept blowing on the wound. Flesh came together miraculously and became whole. Finally, the skin closed without even leaving a scar.

  Sara settled back with a feeling of satisfaction.

  A soldier cleared his throat and raised his rifle menacingly.

  She stood up. More soldiers were behind the two at the door, and she doubted she could beat them all. She had the body of a warrior angel, but she had never learned how to fight.

  Sara didn't want to fight anyway. Being captured was actually the best way to move the investigation along. She would have an opportunity to talk to whoever was running the show. Words would solve the case where violence could not.

  Sirens outside the building told her the police had arrived. She was curious to see how the military dealt with them.

  As soon as Sara was close to the soldiers, they grabbed her with an unnecessary amount of force. Two men held her arms with a very tight grip while others patted her down. Their eyes showed fear which seemed a bit ridiculous. The smallest of the soldiers was a lot bigger than her.

  As Sara was escorted out, she noticed a dead body on the floor of the store. A blunt instrument had smashed open the victim's skull. She sighed and shook her head with disappointment at Lisa's murderous behavior. The woman had an appalling lack of self-control.

  Red and blue flashing lights shone through the front of the store. Most of the windows were shattered.

  One of the soldiers spoke into his headset, "We got her, sir. The prisoner is ready for transport... Yes, sir." He faced his comrades. "Bring her to the back."

  The men hustled Sara through the building and out the back door. She was surprised to see her own car still there. How did Lisa and Mei get away? she wondered.

  A Humvee came around the corner. In the meantime, the soldiers used plastic ties to bind Sara's wrists and ankles very tightly. After the car stopped, she was shoved into the back seat. One soldier joined her, and he held a pistol aimed at her face, but the weapon didn't scare her. A bullet in the head wouldn't bother her much. Two soldiers sat in front. The driver put the Humvee into gear and pulled away.

  They came around to the front of the building where six police cars and two ambulances were parked. An Army captain was arguing with the police officers.

  The Humvee accelerated abruptly. The driver clearly wanted to get away before the police had a chance to stop him. He made it to the street but almost struck a cop on the way out.

  The car continued down the road at high speed.

  "Where are we going?" Sara said.

  "Shut up," a soldier said.

  Sara closed her mouth. She knew the time for conversation would come, and then she would finally get some answers.

  * * *


  "Captain Bernard is ready to make his report, sir," the console operator said in the security control room.

  Colonel Knox received a headset and slipped it on his head. "What's going on?" he demanded.

  "It's a mess, sir, but the good news is we captured one of them. The brunette. She's on her way to you right now so you can question her."

  "And the bad news is the other two got away?"

  "Yes, sir," Bernard said in an apologetic tone, "and we have casualties. Eight men were injured, some very seriously, and one is dead."

  Knox grimaced. "I thought you were some of the toughest operators in the business. Three women whipped your asses?"

  "Actually, just one woman: the black one. I've never seen anything like it. She can't be human. She was so fast, it was almost impossible to hit her, and when we did shoot her, she didn't care. Her blood was... black. I heard a rumor that they're aliens. Is that true, sir?"

  Knox was distressed, but in a small way, he was also relieved. He now had incontrovertible proof he was dealing with real aliens. The trouble, expense, and even the deaths were worthwhile. His name would go down in the history books.

  He was very much looking forward to interrogating the captured female. She promised to be a treasure trove of priceless information.

  "Don't listen to rumors," Knox said. "Just follow orders. When you're allowed to know they're aliens, I'll tell you."

  "Yes, sir. The police are giving me a hard time. They want to take statements."

  "Stick to the cover story. You're with the Federal Office of Experimental Aero-Physics. You were hunting dangerous fugitives who stole top secret materials related to military aircraft."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Bye." Knox pressed a button on the console to end the connection. "What's the status of the other mission?" he asked the operator. "Are the police any closer to catching the males?"

  "No, sir," the operator replied. "The fugitives are hiding in a maze of tunnels underneath downtown Chicago. It may take a long time to dig them out."

  Knox stepped away and stared at the floor. Captain Kyle was a very fine officer, a veteran several times over, but aliens were holding him. They might employ interrogation techniques from other worlds. Those techniques might be stronger than Special Forces training. Knox couldn't assume Kyle would be able to resist. The security of the project was compromised.

  "We have to evacuate this headquarters immediately," Knox said. "We're bugging out."

  "Excuse me," the operator said. "Are you serious?"

  "I'm afraid so. Wake up everybody. Get the word out. I want the entire staff here in a half-hour."

  "Yes, sir."

  Knox left the security control room. He jogged down two flights of stairs to reach the basement. Dr. Harlow was still working on his private little project. A tight assembly of coils, batteries, capacitors, and relays formed a solid block.

  Knox quickly summarized the situation.

  Harlow solemnly put down his tools. "Sounds like the aliens made fools of your soldiers."

  Knox wanted to argue the point, but he had no defense. He could only grunt in acknowledgement.

  "What are we going to do now?" Harlow said.

  "Pack up and get out. If Captain Kyle gives this location to the aliens, we can expect unwanted visitors."

  Harlow glanced at the device he was building. "That's probably wise, even if it's very inconvenient. Give me fifteen minutes to clean this up, and then I'll start packing." His eyes widened. "Wait, if we know the aliens are coming, we can set a trap."

  "True." Knox raised his eyebrows. "But let me worry about that. Focus on getting all your junk into boxes."

  "And I still need to talk to Ms. Penn in a few hours."

  "Right. Try not to fall asleep in front of her. It won't help your argument."

  "Yes, sir," Harlow said.

  "And as soon as the captured alien is secure, we'll both talk to her."

  * * *

  Captain Dirk Kyle had no idea where his captors were taking him. It seemed like they had travelled a mile through an endless, labyrinthine basement. They had made so many turns, he had lost all sense of direction. The air was dank, the walls were moldy, and only every third lightbulb worked. He wondered who had the terrible job of changing the bulbs.

  The nauseating stink was the worst part. It was somewhere between raw sewage, spoiled milk, and burnt flesh. The taste of bile was in his mouth, but he hadn't vomited yet. He found the odor strangely reminiscent of death.

  The group finally came to a square room with puddles on the floor. Two giant stone casks had strange, chaotic carvings on the sides. An iron hatch in the floor had similar inscriptions. He wondered if it were an alien tongue.

  Something about that hatch frightened Kyle. A deep instinct told him he didn't want to open it. He desperately wanted to get far away from this horrible place.

  "We're here," the alien with brown hair said.

  "Where is here?" Kyle said.

  "Someplace nobody will ever find us, at least nobody human."

  "Let's introduce ourselves," the older alien said cheerfully. "I'm Alfred. My friend is Virgil. According to your name tag, you're Captain Kyle. What's your first name?"

  Kyle's weapons had been taken away but both his captors were well armed. He had been eyeing a combat knife on Alfred's belt for quite a while.

  Kyle drifted in that direction. Virgil and Alfred didn't react, and the latter was even smiling a little.

  Kyle made his move. With the speed of a viper, he snatched the knife, stepped behind Alfred, and pressed the blade against Alfred's throat. Kyle wrapped his other arm around Alfred's chest, immobilizing him.

  "What do you think you're doing?" Virgil said in a tone of irritation.

  "If you don't do what I say," Kyle said, "I'll give this man a new smile from ear to ear."

  "Go ahead."

  "Huh?"

  "Just get it over with so we can get down to business," Virgil said.

  "You're serious?" Kyle said.

  "As serious as a funeral. Hurry up."

  Virgil's gaze drained Kyle of all his confidence. Those eyes had seen unspeakable horrors. Kyle felt profound desolation and loneliness. The jaws of oblivion were snapping at his feet.

  He slowly drew the knife across Alfred's throat. Alfred just stood without struggling. When Kyle was done, he stepped away.

  The wound was deep and wide, but white liquid leaked out instead of blood. It flowed like yogurt and glowed slightly. Alfred didn't seem to be in pain. His skin began to close up while Kyle watched, and a minute later, Alfred was healed.

  "We're Martians," Virgil said, "remember? Enough screwing around. Who do you work for? What do you know? What do you think you know?"

  Kyle swallowed. He had done three tours of duty in some of the most dangerous places on Earth. He had killed terrorists and rebels. He had fought when any sane man would've run.

  This was different. Kyle had never felt so intimidated.

  "Captain Dirk Kyle, United States Army, and that's all I'm telling you."

  Alfred put a hand on his shoulder. "It's OK," Alfred said in a soothing voice. "We're not your enemies. There is no reason for us to fight. You're involved in something you don't understand. I can't give you the details, but it's a catastrophe in the making. Our job is to stop this mess from getting any worse and identify the people responsible. Ideally, we can find a peaceful resolution. Help us do our jobs, please."

  That voice went straight into Kyle's brain. He felt profound peace and friendship. God loved him. It was exactly the opposite experience as Virgil's gaze.

  "Your tricks won't work on me," Kyle said in slow, measured words. "I will never betray my commander or my country. I would die first."

  "I respect your position," Virgil said. "I really do, but your loyalty is badly misplaced in this case. Let me tell you something."

  He walked over to the iron hatch in the floor and stared at it. The metal was black with age. Even though the in
scriptions were completely unfamiliar to Kyle, he somehow knew the words warned of death.

  "I've never served in a real army," Virgil said, "but I have answered to commanders. I've faced many situations that were... ethically ambiguous. Sometimes simply following orders isn't the honorable choice. Real courage isn't always found on the battlefield. The most difficult, most frightening choices are always about principles. What is the best way to serve our leaders? What goals are most important? How do we promote the common good when we are being told to do otherwise? The questions aren't easy, and the right answers can feel like betrayal at first, but true heroes distinguish themselves at these critical moments."

  He continued to gaze at the hatch as if it had profound importance.

  "Why are you telling me this?" Kyle said.

  "Because if you really care about honor and duty to your fellow man," Virgil said, "you'll help us put an end to this insanity. What's happening is very wrong. Innocents are dying. The people you work for are the bad guys here."

  He spoke with a clarity and a passion that was very human. Kyle was confused.

  "You're Martians," he said. "Why do you care about human lives?"

  "I hate that lie," Alfred said. "We're not Martians. We're as native to Earth as you."

  Virgil gave Alfred a sharp look.

  "Then what are you?" Kyle said. "You're obviously not human."

  Virgil continued to glare furiously at Alfred.

  "All that matters is we're here to help," Alfred said. "We're not foreign spies or criminals. We're not enemies of the state."

  Kyle believed Alfred, and it wasn't because of his mind-control power. Alfred had a sincerity which couldn't be faked.

  Kyle remembered seeing the corpse of Corporal Hartmann, and Kyle had heard about the death of Sergeant Hill. Prior test subjects had simply gone missing. The scientists clearly had no idea what they were doing, but they were happy to throw the bodies of good men at the problem. Kyle couldn't ignore his gnawing doubts about the project as a whole.