by Dirk Patton
“I didn’t say that,” Vance said.
“You found something else?” I asked, hope surging.
“Yeah, but nothing sexy. There’s a C-130 in another hangar. Looks to be in good shape and the flight and maintenance logs show it’s ready to go. Just needs fuel and a runway.”
“What’s the range?” I asked.
I was already thinking about how long it would take to get to Australia in a lumbering C-130.
“Maybe a couple thousand miles,” Vance said. “And if you’re wondering, that’s not enough to get us to Hawaii.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep,” he said, nodding. “To make that hop, you’ve either gotta have an auxiliary tank, or a tanker waiting for you between here and there. Already looked for an aux tank, and there aren’t any I can find.”
“Are you forgetting the Russians that are still on the coast of California?” Rachel interrupted. “They aren’t going to just let us fly over and wave.”
“See!” Igor called, pulling all of our attention away from the conversation.
Swiveling the chair around, I rolled it forward to look at the monitor he was pointing at. One of the deuce and a half’s I’d seen them loading at Nellis was approaching the facility. It was towing a long trailer with a massive cylinder loaded aboard.
The driver piloted the vehicle cautiously, swinging it around and stopping within a few feet of one of the exterior blast doors. A pickup had followed, and as soon as the deuce was in position, he hopped into it and they raced away.
“Fuck me, that’s a MOAB! That can be a problem!”
Vance was the first to recognize what was being towed behind the truck.
“What’s a MOAB?” Rachel asked.
“Mother Of All Bombs,” I said, jumping to my feet.
The correct, official name of the bomb that had just been parked next to the armored entrance is Massive Ordnance Air Burst. But, Mother Of All Bombs just sounds so much more sinister. What it is, is one hell of a huge amount of high explosive. The equivalent of eleven tons of TNT, to be precise. It is one of the top two or three most powerful bombs in the world that does not contain a nuclear warhead, and has a blast radius of nearly a hundred and fifty meters. I wasn’t at all confident that the facility’s bomb shielding could withstand that kind of force.
“How far is that door from here?” I shouted, looking around the room.
After a brief moment of silence, Irina repeated my question in rapid-fire Russian. Igor was already working a keyboard and a moment later looked up as another monitor displayed a schematic of the facility. I leaned closer, feeling a little better when it appeared we were at the opposite end of the installation.
“Where’s Johnson?” I barked, satisfied that, for at least the moment, we were safe.
“Opening doors,” Gonzales answered, lifting a radio to his mouth and shouting into it.
Before he received an answer, several of the monitors blanked out with no warning. An instant later, my ears popped from a pressure change, just like taking off or landing in an airplane. A bass rumble rolled through the room, dust drifting down from the ceiling, then the power went out, plunging us into impenetrable darkness.
17
There were frightened exclamations from Irina and Rachel, and probably me too, but I’m not going to admit it. A light clicked on and I looked around to see the Master Chief with his rifle up, the flashlight attached to the rail providing some illumination. Another one, attached to Irina’s pistol, came to life an instant later. Dog, completely freaked out, was pressed tightly against Rachel, ears flattened against his skull. Everyone was trying to talk at once, and I raised my voice to silence them.
“They must have breached,” I said. “Anyone else feel the pressure wave?”
“I did.” Vance spoke from a dark corner.
“OK,” I said. “Vance, Rachel and Irina, get back to where we left the girls. Take Dog. Any of you have a radio?”
“Here,” Gonzales said, pulling a small handset from his pocket and pressing it into Vance’s hand.
“Watch your asses, and don’t engage the enemy if you have a choice,” I ordered, pulling my new rifle around and making sure it was ready to go. “Once you’ve got them…”
I paused as I realized I didn’t know the facility well enough to pick a rally point. Moving deeper underground would only succeed in getting all of us trapped if the militia had made it inside. We needed some place where we could make a stand, but also fall back or even exit into the desert if we had to.
“Master Chief?” I asked, looking at Gonzales.
He didn’t need for me to explain what I needed from him.
“Level A hangar,” he said without hesitation. “Remember where that is?”
He was looking at Irina who quickly nodded.
“Where’s Chelsea and Nicole?” I asked, suddenly remembering that I hadn’t seen those two women since I’d returned.
“With Johnson, wherever the hell that is,” Gonzales growled.
He had developed a relationship with Nicole, and I could see the worry creasing his face. But, first things first.
“Go!” I barked at Vance.
He leapt to his feet and rushed out of the room, the girls and Dog close behind.
“First priority is to find out for sure if we’ve been breached,” I said to Gonzales and Igor. “Then we’ll look for our missing people. Master Chief, keep trying them on the radio.”
We hustled into the corridor. I glanced to my left, seeing a dim glow that was rapidly receding into the distance. Irina’s light aboard the electric cart. Turning right, I fell in behind Gonzales who seemed to know his way around. Igor tucked in behind me, and we set off at a trot.
Passing through several corridors, the Master Chief led us around a bend and pounded up a flight of stairs, taking them two at a time. I dragged a toe on one of the treads, nearly going down before catching myself at the last possible instant. It wasn’t because I was clumsy, which I can be. It was a lack of depth perception due to only having one functioning eye. Cursing under my breath, I focused as best I could and pushed harder to catch up with the SEAL.
Several more minutes of running and we skidded to a halt. The corridor in front of us was completely blocked with rubble. Dust still hung in the air, reflecting the beam of Gonzales’s light and making it look like something out of a Sci-Fi movie.
“How far away is the door where they parked the bomb?” I asked.
The Master Chief stared at the pile of debris for a moment before looking around to orient himself.
“At least a hundred yards,” he said. “And I’m probably being conservative. But no way they’re digging through that shit without having more of it come crashing down on top of them. Dumb motherfuckers used way too much bomb.”
“Be glad they did,” I said.
All of us jumped back as several chunks of concrete broke free from the damaged ceiling and crashed to the floor only feet in front of where we stood.
“Any luck raising Johnson?”
“No,” Gonzales said, shaking his head.
He raised the radio to his mouth and tried again, but only received silence in response. Trying again with no success, he sighed and called Vance. It took a couple of attempts, but the pilot responded. Confirmation that the radios were working properly.
At my prompting, the Master Chief had him verify he’d found the girls. They were frightened but unharmed, and now they were on their way to the rally point Gonzales had given them.
“Any idea what part of the facility Johnson might have been in?” I asked.
Gonzales shrugged his shoulders and looked at Igor.
“Johnson. Did you see him on the monitors?”
“Nyet,” Igor said.
There was an ominous creak that started up from the ceiling above us, and we quickly retreated fifty yards back down the corridor.
You’ve been stomping around for a few days now,” I said to Gonzales. “How big is this pla
ce?”
“Big,” he said. “It would take us days to search it, and that’s if the power was on. With just flashlights? Probably a week. And that’s without stopping to eat or sleep.”
“Shit,” I grumbled.
“Electric,” Igor said.
“What?”
“Fix electric,” he said, pointing at a light fixture mounted to the ceiling over our heads.
“Master Chief?” I prompted.
“Sir, we haven’t looked that hard, but we haven’t found where it’s coming from. And anyway, wouldn’t we be better off to spend the time searching?”
I thought about that for a couple of seconds before nodding.
“OK, call Vance and have him meet us here with all the girls. We’re going to break up into search parties, but I want a couple of people keeping an eye on this corridor. Just because it’s blocked here, well… we’ve got no idea how far the rubble extends on the other side. The militia might be able to clear it in a couple of hours, then we’ve got them crawling up our asses while we’re running around looking for Johnson.”
Gonzales nodded and put the call out, passing on my instructions to Vance.
“They’re on the way,” he said.
I held up a hand to silence him. Something was making a faint noise, and it sounded to be coming from within the pile of debris. Moving as quietly as possible, I slowly approached the blocked area. As I drew closer, I couldn’t help but cast a nervous glance at the ceiling. If more chunks of concrete suddenly broke free, I’d have no warning before my brains were permanently scrambled.
Igor and Gonzales slowly trailed behind, coming closer as I slowed to a stop and closed my eyes. Whatever was making the noise was definitely within the rubble. There was no pattern or regularity to it, just an occasional scrape or bang. With a sinking feeling, I was pretty sure I knew what I was hearing.
“They’re digging through,” I said, opening my eyes.
“Da,” Igor said.
“How the hell are they coming so fast?” Gonzales asked.
“Maybe not far as you think,” Igor offered.
“Master Chief, that rally point you gave to Irina. We’ll have access to the outside if we have to bug out?”
“Yes, sir. Doesn’t mean they won’t be waiting for us, but there are a couple of exits in addition to the big hangar door.”
“Alright. Call Vance back and tell him to disregard. Get his ass to the rally point.” Gonzales nodded and lifted the radio. “Igor, get to the armory. I saw some Willie Pete in there. Grab all you can.”
Igor stared at me, incomprehension on his face, and I shook my head and smiled an apology.
“White phosphorous grenades. Incendiary. Fire. Got it?”
He grinned with understanding and dashed off to retrieve what I’d asked for.
“What you thinking?” Gonzales asked.
“Setting up a little welcome surprise for our guests,” I said.
18
Admiral Packard lit another cigarette, knowing he didn’t need it, but wanting it nonetheless. He was exhausted, unable to remember the last time he’d slept, and the nicotine helped him keep going. There was a muted cough from the direction the smoke was drifting, and he turned to look at his head of personal security, Marine Captain Charles Black. The man was scanning the surrounding area, pointedly ignoring the Admiral’s scrutiny.
“Did you have something to say, Captain?” Packard asked, puffing away.
“Me, sir?” The Marine asked innocently.
“Knock off the act, Captain. You threw yourself between me and a Russian sniper’s bullet. I think you’ve earned the right to speak your mind when I ask.”
Black looked at the older man, obviously hesitating.
“Well, Captain?”
Black made another scan of the area, ensuring his men were alert and doing their jobs, then took a deep breath and met the Admiral’s eyes.
“Concerned about your health, sir,” he finally said.
“And that’s exactly why you’re here,” Packard said.
“Not what I meant, sir. I mean… well… it’s just that if something were to happen to you…”
“Goddamn it Marine, spit it out,” Packard grumbled.
“You’re smoking like a chimney, sir. You’re existing on coffee and cigarettes. And, begging the Admiral’s pardon, but that’s bad for a man my age. That’s all I was thinking, sir.”
Black looked away, afraid to meet Packard’s sharp gaze. He turned in surprise when the Admiral threw his head back and laughed.
“Captain, you sound exactly like my dear, departed wife! Please don’t take offense to that, I’m not saying you’re a woman, but you’re worrying like a wife or a mother. This old body’s tougher than it looks.”
“Don’t doubt that for a second, sir. I’m just concerned about what would happen if we lost you,” Black responded.
“You lose me, there’s Admiral Black. Any relation, by the way?”
“No, sir. Not that I know of.”
Packard stared at the young officer as he smoked his cigarette down to the filter. Stripping the cherry onto the lush grass, he stood and shoved the butt into his pocket.
“I appreciate your concern, Captain. I really do. But I’m fine, and I plan to outlive that Russian bastard, Barinov. There’s no way I’m going until I’ve seen him strung up by his old, shriveled balls!”
“Oorah, sir,” Black said softly.
“Now, if there are no other concerns about my well-being, let’s get back to the CIC,” the Admiral said, a note of sarcasm in his voice.
Black allowed an uncharacteristic grin to show for a moment, then it disappeared as he raised his hand to his radio earpiece. He listened for a few seconds before turning to look to the north.
“Captain West coming to see you, sir,” he said.
Packard looked in the same direction, seeing a small procession of Marines coming his direction. He knew his aide would be in the middle of the group, shielded by their bodies. As they were still some distance away, he sat back down on the bench and pulled out a fresh cigarette. Before he lit it, he cut his eyes at the Marine, who was once again studiously ignoring him. With a sigh, he put the smoke back in its pack and in his pocket.
Nearly a minute later, the group arrived. The four Marines who had formed a protective bubble around Captain West peeled away, and he walked the final few yards to where Packard waited for him.
“Captain. What can I do for you?”
“Sir, I’ve just spent the past half hour speaking with a Dr. Hironata from the University. She has some information that you should hear.”
Packard’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Of all the possible things his aide could have wanted to tell him, this one wasn’t even on his radar.
“What would that be, Captain?”
“Sir, I think it’s better if we have this conversation in your office,” West said, holding the Admiral’s gaze.
After a few moments, Packard sighed and got to his feet.
“Captain Black, looks like we’re not going to the CIC.”
“Yes, sir,” Black said, broadcasting the new destination over a heavily encrypted radio to the security detail.
Several minutes later, the Admiral strode into his office, Captain West on his heels. Captain Black followed them in, immediately placing himself in front of the woman who was seated on the sofa. Two other Marines stepped through the door, positioning themselves on either side of her. Packard sighed, walked around his desk and dropped into the chair.
Black quickly searched the visitor’s purse and leather folio case that held her laptop. When that was complete, he waved one of the Marines forward to run a metal detecting wand over her body. Satisfied, he waved his men out and faded into a corner, keeping a watchful eye on the woman.
“Dr. Hironata, my aide tells me I need to listen to what you have to say,” the Admiral began. “I’m pressed for time, so please forgive me for dispensing with the pleasantries.”
&
nbsp; “Quite alright, Admiral,” the woman answered, her voice soft and lilting with the faintest hint of an indeterminate accent. “I certainly understand, especially under the circumstances.”
Packard nodded and waved for her to take one of the chairs in front of his desk. After sitting and adjusting her skirt, she folded her hands in her lap and stared intently at the Admiral.
“As I’m sure Captain West has told you, I’m from the University of Hawaii. But, I’m not a professor. I don’t teach classes. I’m a researcher, working under a grant from the Society for Conservation Biology.”
Packard shot a glance at Captain West. If this woman was here to read him the riot act about the damage to the environment caused by battles with the Russians, he was going to bounce her out on her ear and have his aid swabbing toilets in the Marine barracks.
“It’s not what you’re thinking, Admiral,” she interjected after seeing the look she was so familiar with. “It’s far worse.”
This got Packard’s attention. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the desk and peered intently at his guest.
“You have my undivided attention, Doctor. Please continue.”
“My work for the past four years has involved studying and cataloging the impacts of humans on the vast variety of biological ecosystems in the Pacific Rim. Twenty years ago, even ten, this would have involved painstaking efforts to physically visit every location and spend inordinate amounts of time documenting the health of each. Then, we would have to repeat the process after a pre-defined amount of time had passed, study the same markers, then compare them to the original. Highly inefficient, and incredibly expensive, to say the least. But, this was a new endeavor. The grant that funded it came from Trey Final.”
“The Silicon Valley billionaire?” Packard asked in surprise.
“Yes. He is… was… very concerned about global warming and its effects on the planet. I mention him because he not only provided the cash, he also designed, built and provided highly sophisticated, unmanned monitoring stations that have been installed in every nation that would allow us access, which has been almost all of the Pacific Rim countries.”
