Ripper

by David L. Golemon

  After the transformation was complete, there was the problem of clothing. His muscles and bodily tissue had expanded so much that his circulation was being cut off and robbed of blood by the tightness of his clothes and boots. He remembered ripping free the vest, most of his shirt, and the waistband of his pants. His massive hands had torn through the laces of his boots until he could feel the cold floor beneath him. As he had risen from the mist covering the clean room floor, he felt free for the first time in his life. His mind was seeing and understanding things he never realized possible. His vision was perfect. He could see shadows and knew that through the mist he could actually see his men around him. He felt so good he had to laugh at the newfound power he was feeling. He found he was near hysteria as his nose widened and flattened, expanding his nasal cavity to allow smells and odors to penetrate that he could never have smelled before.

  The biggest difference in Smith was his desire to hurt, destroy, and render flesh into pulp. The thought of taking life from anything and everything overwhelmed his mind as he shook his head with an ecstatic swelling of near perfection. He remembered laughing uncontrollably.

  Since he had intentionally breathed in far more of the formula than his men, he had immediately taken control of the altered men before him. He was the dominate of the group according to the millennia-old adage that the strong will out. He had had to make an example out of a soldier who had thought he could control the group by smashing the man’s head through a wall. The man was still alive but was now far more receptive to control. This was all due to Smith’s much larger stature.

  He was also aware that his brain could only take so much before the sensitive synapses overwhelmed the very tissue that contained the electrical firings. Its material could not expand fast enough, nor was the cranium strong enough to hold the enlargement. The brain was dying and Smith knew he had only a short time to extend the magnificent feeling he was experiencing. The drug had made him not regret anything in the slightest as he saw beyond the mere death of the body and knew he was truly living for the first time. He was now seeing what life for humankind would be like millions of years in the future with the expansion of the mind. The evolutionary growth was an intoxicating mix that sent euphoric riches into the thought process. He realized that this is what being God was meant to feel like.

  And a vengeful God he was.

  * * *

  The clinic on level nine was silent for the moment, but Farbeaux had the sense to know that something had gone quickly to hell as men and women were seen running through the halls and his senses could fathom that there was more than just a biohazard happening inside the complex. He cursed his luck as he felt the cold steel of the handcuffs that secured him to the bed. He looked over at the security man who had been trying to raise someone on his radio. Henri watched the man step into the clinic, look around, and then step back inside the room shaking his head and trying the radio once more.

  “Sergeant, how long have you been in the military?” Farbeaux asked.

  “Five years, eight months,” the young airman said as he again walked to the doorway.

  “That’s long enough for you to have developed a sense that all soldiers get over the years.”

  “And what’s that Colonel?” the sergeant asked as he angrily turned away from the activity in the hallway.

  “A sense that should tell you, as you Americans would put it of course, that the proverbial shit has hit the proverbial fan.”

  The kid didn’t say anything as he turned back around, ripped the headphones off his head, and walked over to the phone beside Henri’s bed. He lifted the receiver, but then Henri saw his face flush with even more anger when he heard the continuing announcement by Europa to evacuate. The guard started to slam the phone back down into its cradle when he felt the Frenchman’s eyes on him. He looked up and saw Henri raise his right eyebrow. He was about to say something when Denise Gilliam strode quickly into the room, walked over to the bed, and started removing the tape that held the IV in place on Farbeaux’s left arm.

  “Hey, Doc, what are you doing? I have orders that say he goes nowhere,” the guard said.

  “I override any authority inside this clinic young man. Now free up Mr. Farbeaux’s restraints; it’s time we get the hell out of here,” the young dark-haired MD said as she started to pull the bed away from the wall. “Now Sergeant!” she said far harsher than she would have liked.

  “Ma’am, this is a very dangerous man,” the sergeant said even as he produced the handcuff key.

  “I suggest you follow the good doctor’s orders son. Smell that?” Henri said as he jangled his right cuff against the steel bedrail.

  “What?” both Gilliam and the sergeant said at once.

  “Cordite. There is one hell of a battle taking place somewhere, more than likely below us on another level, possibly even on level seventeen where the emergency was declared.”

  Both the doctor and sergeant looked at each other, realizing that the Frenchman was telling the truth. The airman started to unlock the right handcuff as Denise finished pulling the IV line free of Henri’s arm.

  “Help me push him to the elevator,” she said as she started tugging on the large bed.

  “Doctor, if you would release this other restraint, I assure you I can walk, possibly even run, which I think may factor into this situation any moment.”

  “No, we can get you to safety,” the sergeant said as they reached the doorway.

  “Then may I possibly persuade you to get my clothes out of the closet?”

  “No!” both the sergeant and doctor yelled at once.

  EVENT GROUP COMPLEX

  NELLIS AFB, NEVADA, GATE ONE

  As the load of over a hundred and fifty staff rose into the ancient hangar on level one, the perimeter security element of the Event Group was waiting for them. They were in the process of herding the last of the science staff off the giant cargo lift to join the first lift of men and women out in the scrub of flat desert to await orders and transport to a safe location when the exterior lights flickered and then went out. The twelve men of the outside security team whose job it was to secure gate one were frustrated in not being able to join their mates down inside the complex, especially when they started hearing the stories about heavy gunfire coming from level seventeen.

  Every man, woman, soldier, doctor, professor, or technician knew the Event Group was compromised, and its largest element was sitting out in the open where the world could discover a secret that had been buried in the sands of Nellis Air Force Base for the past sixty-one years. Even more, they wanted to return and assist those men and women who were now trapped inside that darkness that may have become a mass grave for their friends and colleagues.

  And what was worse, they knew there was now something in that darkness that had a functioning and scheming brain and worst of all—teeth.

  * * *

  As Niles Compton, Pete Golding, and Charlie Ellenshaw banged through the doorway of the stairwell and into the main reception area they heard the crashing through the steel conduit that allowed the elevators to ride on a cushion of air. Niles could see enough through the battery-powered lighting to know that his staff had successfully evacuated, a load off his mind. Still, he had to know there was something and as he moved away from the two scientists they were shocked to see him move toward the elevator doors. Their eyes widened when they saw their boss start to pull the doors apart.

  “Niles, what in the hell are you doing?” Pete called out as Charlie reached him first and tried pulling his hands away. Just as Charlie reached the doors Niles slammed backward into him and he was forced to catch Compton before he fell to the floor. Something had impacted the double doors leading to the shaft. As they watched, there came a loud bang and then a large bulge appeared in the stainless steel.

  “How are they moving up that shaft?” Pete asked as he pulled the two men away from the elevator.

  “With the description Captain Everett gave us, they must be using
the guide rail that centers the elevator inside the shaft, and with no compressed air they have no resistance to impede their climb.”

  Both Pete and Niles turned and looked at Ellenshaw, who returned the look with a “what?” expression. All three jumped when the left side of the steel door bent outward and for the first time they saw the hand of the thing inside of the tube. It grasped the corner of the steel door and pulled down. The screech of metal was deafening as the creature wrenched and warped the elevator doors, first one side and then the other.

  “Uh-oh,” Charlie said even as Niles started pulling them toward the double doors that led to the main hallway. The only other way was through the conference room, which was a dead end.

  As they inched their way toward the doors, in the battery-powered and very weak light they saw a massive head poke through the widened gap of the twin doors. The creature actually saw them and smiled, showing elongated and crooked teeth with wide gaps between each. The eyes were overly large and it was Niles that noticed large patches of hair that had fallen out of its scalp. The remnants of a black military uniform hung around its neck and chest. The men were so shocked at the sight that Niles stumbled, taking all three men down to the floor. The creature that had once been a human being actually laughed, sending fear and chills down the men’s spines.

  As they watched, trying to rise, crawl, crabwalk, anything to distance them from the Perdition’s Fire–created monstrosity before them, the beast reached through with both massive arms and started pulling the left-side door away from the frame with a sickening crunch of steel. As it did so blood was coursing out of the creature’s ears through the exertion it was placing on its body and brain. Little could Niles and the other two men know that the beast was dying but was too hopped-up and euphoric to realize it. The altered man finally managed to tear free the door, letting it fall eighty-seven levels down the elevator tube. Then with little effort it finally extricated itself from the shaft.

  “Oh, shit!” Pete said as he leaned farther into Charlie and Niles.

  The beast stood in the darkness and they could see the whiteness of its teeth. The massive arms hung like those of a giant ape as it leaned to the right and then to the left, taking the three men in. The smile was ever present as its long fingers closed and then opened, only to close again. They saw tatters of skin hanging from its hands that it had damaged on its climb up the shaft. The blood was flowing far more freely from its large ears even as it kept staring at them. Then its eyes enlarged and it took the first step toward Niles, Pete, and Charlie.

  Suddenly a heavy stream of gunfire opened up from somewhere behind the cowering men. As they watched, a line of tracer fire stitched its way across the beast’s expanded chest. Then another line of bright phosphorescent bullets struck the creature and made it take three steps back toward the open shaft. They saw the M-14 carbine hit the carpet next to them and looked up in time to see Colonel Jack Collins dressed in civilian clothes as he advanced toward the beast with his nine millimeter drawn. Jack started firing into the head and neck of the creature, not giving it a chance to recover as the colonel advanced on it. Finally the creature was backed into the shaft where it grabbed the elevator doorframe and held on tight. Jack fired the Beretta until the clip was expended and then without missing a beat ejected it and resumed firing. He caught the beast three times in the head and it still hung on to the frame. Then he took careful aim, still walking toward the creature, and fired all of his remaining rounds, striking the altered man in the wrists and hands. Finally the rounds to the head and hands did the work Jack was hoping for, and the beast was forced to let go. It fell back into the darkness as Jack ran the short distance to peer into the dark shaft. He arrived just in time to see the beast falling. It struck the side of the tube and finally vanished. Collins turned and ejected the empty clip from the automatic. He looked at the three men with resolve.

  “You three alright?” he asked as he finally reached down and started pulling them up from the floor one at a time.

  “Thank God you came in. I don’t think that gentleman cared for us all that much,” Charlie joked as Niles placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder and lowered his head, thankful for his sudden appearance.

  “Jack, is Alice alright?” Niles asked when he thought his heart could stand the exertion.

  “She’s at home and the last I knew was trying to get you some help down here. Now where are Captain Everett and the rest of security?”

  “Colonel, the entire security team is spread out inside the facility. As far as we know there are at least four more of those monstrosities around. We heard one hell of a lot of gunfire coming from the lower levels,” Niles said as he looked away from Jack. “I should never have allowed that formula into this complex.”

  “Well, sometimes it takes a lot to get a policy changed. You know that Mr. Director.” Without waiting for comment from Niles, Jack turned and faced Pete. “Can you get the complex systems up again, especially Europa?”

  “That’s what we came back to do, Colonel.”

  “Then may I suggest you get to it Pete. Niles, you go with him; you know the system almost as well as he does. Charlie, you’re with me. You get to play John Wayne. We have to get below. Are you game?” Jack reached down and retrieved the M-14 carbine, inserted another magazine, and handed it to Ellenshaw.

  Ellenshaw looked the lightweight weapon over and grinned, his white hair flying in all directions. “I’m always game Colonel.”

  ECHO FIVE THREE SEVEN—SIERRA

  SOMEWHERE OVER SOUTHERN UTAH

  The Lockheed Martin C-130J Super Hercules had left McChord Air Force Base under tight security. There had been no witnesses to the rollout of the special-operations aircraft and even the normal air force personnel that manned the tower had been replaced by a unit of “special” technicians that always traveled with the unit that had loaded onto the massive transport plane. Under cover of darkness, the Hercules lifted free of Washington State and was in the air less than five minutes after her rollout from the giant hangar. Inside were men that had received more special-operations training than any unit in the United States military. They were so special that they knew their missions would be few and far between.

  Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta, also known as the Combat Applications Group (CAG), or simply DELTA, were the United States’ most elite tactical combat group.

  Contrary to rumor, DELTA wasn’t an army Special Forces detachment. Delta Force was a unit unto itself, composed of members from all branches of the U.S. military. Its home base was considered to be Fort Bragg, North Carolina, but its training took place all around the world. The special men inside of the Hercules were not really soldiers at all but were called operators and were said to shun the traditional philosophies of military life. They most often wore civilian clothing and were rumored to work for everyone from the FBI to the CIA. The three groups on this mission were made up of twelve men to a section. All thirty six men, plus their commanding officer, Major Jerry “Grateful Dead” Garcia, were dressed for one of their most trained-for assignments—a high-altitude, low-opening jump, or HALO. The need to get to their target quickly without being seen by anyone at Nellis Air Force Base was of particular interest to the powers that be, but when the president of the United States said to get to Nevada, they were going hell bent for leather.

  Each man had been briefed on the rescue. They were going into a scenario that few had ever trained for, the taking back of an underground complex that may be held by an opposing force that may or may not be genetically altered. Each man in the three teams took the mission parameters with a grain of salt. They understood that someone up the chain of command was either out of his mind or very near to it.

  Major Garcia checked his watch one last time as the Hercules climbed to their jump altitude. They would jump at 32,000 feet and low open at 2,000 feet from the desert scrub, hopefully below the radar of the Nellis tower.

  He looked over at Sergeant Major Reynolds and win
ked.

  “Major, I have one hell of a stupid question for ya,” Reynolds said in his Texas drawl.

  “And what pray tell can that be Sergeant Major Reynolds?” Garcia said as he studied the other thirty men inside the cavernous hold of the C-130J. He saw that most of them had their eyes closed, bored as always with the “getting there” portion of a mission.

  “Who in the hell is in charge of naming these missions? I mean, come on, my fifth-grade niece could come up with something better than this.”

  “Well, according to my sources Sergeant Major, this one comes from the very top.”

  “Besides the name of the mission, I also noted a name that wasn’t entirely blacked out on the mission parameters. I guess it got through some egghead sensor.”

  Major Garcia turned away and saw that no one else was listening over the drone of the four powerful engines.

  “I saw that myself. I’m glad most of these boys are too young to have noticed and recognized the name, or maybe they just didn’t care. But it did add a little element of surprise to the game.” He looked over at the smaller man from Texas. “I mean, if the man that trained most of the officer corps in this outfit is in deep shit, it definitely means we’re not headed for a picnic.”

  The sergeant major nodded his head and adjusted the oxygen tank on his back. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep but leaned over and said, “Yes, sir, if the Jack Collins I know is in trouble, there must be one large shitstorm where we’re goin’.”

  The huge aircraft increased power as it slipped out of its planned flight path and climbed with its four engines screaming.

  Operation Nerdlinger was nearing the sand and scrub of Nellis Air Force Base.

  SPRING VALLEY HOSPITAL,

  LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

  Jason Ryan was feeling the course of light-dose morphine as it rushed through his system. He watched as the duty nurse administered the injection through the IV line attached to his right hand. For the first twenty-four hours the doctors had been worried about infection setting in, but since his three bullet wounds had been treated right away by the attending physicians in Laredo, that fear had been laid to rest very quickly. With the drugs running through the naval aviator’s body, he had decided he hadn’t felt this good since his Annapolis days. And the nursing staff was on the receiving end of that feel-good situation.