MISSION VERITAS (Black Saber Novels Book 1)

by John Murphy

  “Sorry I’m late,” Vaughn said. Excuses weren’t tolerated when it came to Fantasia—not even being in lockdown.

  “You know the rules, dude. Last one here carries the ammo,” Joey said. His avatar hopped off a chest resembling wood and iron.

  Vaughn sighed. Lugging the chest would not only deplete his health points, but also diminish his fighting skills.

  “Where’d we leave off?” Devon asked.

  A monstrous explosion jolted Vaughn again, followed by an overwhelming rumble. There was no way that was part of the game.

  He bolted upright. The floor shook and the glass décor rattled.

  “Holy shit! Something’s blowing up. Gotta go!”

  He ripped off his helmet. The rumbling continued. It was like thunder, but ten times worse. He could feel it in the couch and floor, like a herd of cattle racing through his room. The windows and furniture shook.

  The room went dark, as if a blanket had been draped over the embassy. Something started pelting the windows—a rain of pebbles and rocks.

  Vaughn hit the floor between the couch and the coffee table, praying the bulletproof glass would withstand whatever was hitting it.

  A white strobe light came on above the door to the family’s private residence. Its rhythmic flash was punctuated by a piercing wail.

  Pewww! Pewww! Pewww! Pewww!

  The door to the residence burst open.

  “Vaughn! Vaughn!”

  It was Captain Leon.

  “Here!” Vaughn called, rising to a cautious crouch.

  “Come on, son. We’ve got to get you to the panic room.”

  Vaughn scooted past him into the hall toward the rear of the house and down the service stairs. His feet stepped madly, but they felt detached from his body. Everything moved in slow motion.

  Vaughn and Captain Leon cut through the kitchen to the panic room. It was large enough to hold at least forty people.

  Emergency strobe lights flickered throughout the kitchen, but the panic room had a steady light powered by backup batteries.

  “Oh God, Vaughn,” said Annette, a woman about his mother’s age who was one of the myriad of staffers. She rushed over and hugged him. “Thank God you’re okay.”

  He hugged her tentatively in return. He barely knew her name, let alone her role at the embassy. Considering the circumstances, though, he was grateful for her motherly exuberance.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” Vaughn responded automatically. He could feel his arms and knees trembling from adrenaline.

  Vaughn turned, but Captain Leon was gone. A wave of vulnerability swept over him. He looked around the panic room and counted five faces he’d seen around the embassy: four Thai house and kitchen staff, and Annette. The panic room door stayed open a foot or so. The emergency strobe lights and siren continued their alerts.

  A marine squeezed into the panic room, clutching a rifle and limping badly. Blood trickled down the side of his head and neck. He must have been on duty outside.

  Captain Leon poked his face inside. “Lock it down, Corporal Tyler!”

  “Aye, aye, sir!”

  Corporal Tyler pushed the heavy door closed and spun a wheel to lock it, shutting out the siren.

  Although Vaughn yearned for some words of assurance from the captain, he felt safer for the moment.

  Corporal Tyler went to the security console and fired up its eight screens. Four monitors displayed camera views inside the embassy; the other four displayed scenes outside. Corporal Tyler flicked between various views from the numerous cameras positioned around the facility.

  Dust and debris had rained down on the building and were everywhere in the cameras’ view, coating everything with dark gray ash. Thousands of people ran in every direction in a frenzied attempt to escape the bedlam.

  Vaughn couldn’t help but think of cockroaches.

  Black smoke puffed intermittently across some of the screens. Dozens of dark figures raced inside the compound, toward the main entrance.

  “Sir! We have a breach!” the corporal said into his mic.

  “Roger that!” Captain Leon replied.

  Rapid bursts of muffled gunfire came over the security systems from the watch positions on the roof. On the screens, some of the shadowy figures collapsed to the ground. Marines shouted directives to one another as they fired, swearing rapidly amid the swarming invaders.

  Corporal Tyler turned the volume down to low.

  The conflict reminded Vaughn of every World Net combat game he’d ever played. But there was no laughter, no smack-talk, no health points. This death was real and the voices were terrified.

  Annette whimpered into clasped hands, as did the four female house staff. With each intruder that went down, the knot that had twisted throughout Vaughn’s body loosened into nausea. Wide-eyed and trembling, he worried he had put everyone in the embassy at risk. After all, he was the leverage point.

  An interior camera in the foyer showed Captain Leon wearing a helmet and flak jacket and bearing a rifle. He held on to the front door’s handle, as if to further secure the heavy locking mechanism.

  Corporal Tyler put on headphones to listen closely to the marines’ chatter.

  “I think they got the conference building!” a marine said.

  More gunfire.

  “Say again!” Corporal Tyler shouted into his mic.

  “They blew up the conference building,” a tower guard said, enunciating slowly. “It’s no longer there!”

  Terror gripped Vaughn. Were his parents in that building? His knees and stomach quivered. He sat on the floor and held his head. Annette put a hand on his shoulder.

  Officer Assecula came into camera view and tried to push the captain out of the way. Their shouts were barely discernible over the gunfire outside.

  Vaughn caught a phrase or two of Assecula’s shrill voice over the speakers: “Americans…civilians…shelter…attack…”

  “She’s trying to let them in!” Corporal Tyler said.

  “No!” Vaughn said, his eyes wide as he scrambled up and approached the screen.

  Annette said frantically, “No, we can’t let them in!”

  “Not when we’re under siege,” the corporal agreed. “Our job is to lock down and protect everyone inside, not let outsiders in. We don’t know who they are.”

  “Why is she doing that?” Vaughn asked.

  “She’s Global Alliance,” Annette said. “She could be collaborating with them.”

  Captain Leon shoved her back, and Assecula disappeared from view. He returned to holding the door handle while dark figures banged on the glass. Assecula raced back into view and crashed a vase over Leon’s head and shoulders. He tumbled to the floor.

  Assecula lunged for the door and pushed it open. Captain Leon regained his footing, then leveled his rifle on the figures jostling to pull open the door. Shots exploded over the speakers. Blood splattered from Assecula’s body, which slumped halfway out the door.

  Intruders stepped over her, forcing their way in.

  Captain Leon fired again and again.

  Bodies piled up in the doorway.

  Captain Leon pulled the bodies in so he could close the door.

  A Molotov cocktail exploded against the door, erupting in flames. Captain Leon staggered backward, engulfed in fire. He dropped his rifle, fell to the floor, and rolled back and forth in a desperate effort to smother the flames. But they were too powerful, and eventually he lay still.

  Annette and the staffers screamed. Vaughn was on the verge of vomiting; saliva ran from his mouth. He turned away, staring at nothing but seeing the horrific image replaying in his mind.

  Dark masked figures leapt across the bodies in the doorway. One snatched up Captain Leon’s rifle and turned it on him.

  The gunshot yanked Vaughn’s attention back to the monitors. “T
he wolves!”

  “We have interior breach! We have interior breach! Bogies are in the building!” Corporal Tyler turned away from the monitors. “Everyone, back against the rear wall, by the supply boxes.”

  Vaughn and the women clambered to the rear of the narrow thirty-foot-long room. Corporal Tyler turned back to the monitors, rifle at the ready.

  More intruders piled into the house carrying Molotov cocktails. They threw them against the walls. Flames erupted everywhere. Vaughn paid particular attention to the monitor that showed his living room. A large figure entered and proceeded to flip over furniture, yank curtains off the windows, and pile them in the center of the room. Then he ducked in and out of the bedrooms. Vaughn swallowed hard.

  The intruder was looking for him.

  The figure whopped a bottle over the coffee table. The bottle shattered, spilling its fuel. He lit it and fire sprang to life, consuming Vaughn’s nest of ignorant bliss. In a final statement of triumph, the intruder tossed Vaughn’s Coke pajamas onto the flaming heap.

  CHAPTER 2

  IT TOOK AN ENTIRE DAY for the noise of violence outside the panic room to subside. The interior cameras had gone out within minutes of the intruders’ penetration—either broken, shot, or marred by soot—leaving Vaughn and the others inside the panic room deaf and blind. They could only assume that their marine defenders had succumbed to the overwhelming mob.

  The exterior cameras, however, were out of reach of anyone on the ground and continued to display the embassy’s smoldering furniture and other contents, disgorged onto the lawn in lieu of American bodies.

  In lieu of me, Vaughn thought.

  Human activity had gone quiet for the most part. Through wisps of smoke, the cameras occasionally showed roving groups running through the streets. They paused to throw rocks and debris at the charred embassy, symbolically showing disdain for all things American. The seven occupants of the panic room watched it all in a daze.

  When the corporal turned the pivoting cameras toward where the towering conference center had once stood, all they could see was sky and smoke. The corporal continued hailing external command, to no avail. There was nothing via local radio and nothing from satellite.

  The four house staffers whispered nervously in Thai. Periodically, one voiced her worries in English over her home and family.

  Vaughn could say nothing to console them. He sat on the hard floor against the wall, head down, listless. The few times he drifted off during the seemingly endless hours, he woke with a start, his mind replaying the vision of Captain Leon burning to death.

  He thought of his parents almost constantly. He was certain they were dead. His throat was sore from choking up with emotion. Tears streamed from his eyes periodically, but he held back from outright crying. He thought of his brother, who had joined the military and left before his high school graduation ceremony. Vaughn hadn’t heard from him in nearly five years.

  I’ve lost everything. The thought kept looping through his mind.

  He imagined his brother coming to rescue them, surrounded by hundreds of American soldiers, guns blazing. He wondered why no one had come to search for survivors.

  The horrible scenes outside made Vaughn numb to his immediate concerns. He held his head, elbows on his knees, enduring a constant throb of abandonment and guilt. Finally, he raised his head and looked at Corporal Tyler. “Do you have any more weapons?”

  Corporal Tyler shook his head. “No, just my rifle.”

  Annette stood up. “It’s time I get to the data center. I think it’s been long enough.”

  “Ma’am, my job,” the corporal said, “is to protect you until relief shows up. I have to stand my post—indefinitely. We have a lot of supplies. We can stay in here for a long time.”

  Annette put her hands on her hips. “And my job is to get to the data center and destroy critical information. The marauders who stormed the compound probably don’t care about it, and they may have already destroyed it. But whoever comes to rescue us will comb through our data. We can’t let that happen.”

  Corporal Tyler stepped in front of the door. “I can’t let you do that, ma’am.”

  “I respect your orders, Corporal, but my directives supersede your orders. In absence of your chain of command—and my chain of command—I have to suspend your orders. We are sitting on information critical to the sovereignty of our country.”

  “We’re under siege,” Corporal Tyler insisted. “All electronic data would have been automatically destroyed.”

  “Not the paper copies,” Annette said. “They’re in a vault, but that can be broken into. I have to get them and destroy it all.”

  Corporal Tyler stared at her, weighing her argument.

  “Look, Corporal, it’s been twenty hours since the marauders left. I’ll take responsibility for my own safety. You can all stay here.”

  “I don’t think I…”

  “This is a matter of national security. I could be tried for treason if I sit here and let our data fall into the hands of the Global Alliance…” She hesitated, as if she’d said too much. “Or any other foreign entity. You wouldn’t want to put me in that position, would you?”

  “No, ma’am, but…”

  “And if you obstruct my directives, Corporal…”

  He stared a few moments more, his resolve weakening. “Yes, ma’am. I get it. However, I insist on accompanying you to provide protection.”

  “Fair enough,” Annette said gravely. “That is your choice.”

  A surge of fear yanked Vaughn out of his lethargy. He wanted to get out of this room as much as the others, but outside was where the wolves were.

  “Vaughn,” the corporal said, “you lock the door behind us. I’ll bang two times, pause, then two times again when we’re back.”

  “Wait!” Vaughn said. “I don’t have a gun!”

  “You’ll be secure inside this room,” Annette said. “Don’t worry, Vaughn. The situation is under control.” She caught herself. “At least, it’s calm, for the time being.”

  “But you don’t know what’s out there!”

  “I know. I can only imagine that it’s a mess. But I have to do this.”

  The staffers became agitated. “Me too! Me too! Our families…”

  “Doris, Isabelle, Emma, Sophie,” Annette said, addressing them sternly by their adopted American monikers. “It’s too dangerous to let you go without protection. I understand you want to go home and find your families. But I insist you stay in this room for your own safety. Stay with Vaughn until we come back.”

  The women looked at Vaughn, showing no confidence.

  “Vaughn, will you stay here and help protect them?” Annette asked, clearly for the frightened women’s benefit.

  He didn’t know how he’d protect himself, let alone the others. Still, he nodded nervously. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Very well, then.” She took a deep breath, then exhaled. “Let’s get on with it, Corporal.”

  “Ma’am, if you could stand back.”

  Annette retreated two steps. The Thai women huddled at the back of the room. Vaughn stood up, unsure of what to do with his empty hands.

  Corporal Tyler held his rifle in his right hand, then spun the lock wheel with his left.

  He glanced at Vaughn. “If anything happens, slam this shut and don’t open it for anyone.”

  Vaughn swallowed hard and nodded.

  Corporal Tyler opened the door. The airtight seal broke.

  Silence outside.

  The corporal titled the rifle down and slowly pulled the door open.

  Smells of fire rushed in, and kitchen utensils behind the door scraped eerily across the floor.

  The corporal waited several seconds, listening.

  Vaughn could hear his own rapid heartbeat.

  He breached the safety of the panic room,
stepping into the kitchen and swinging his rifle in quick movements back and forth as he probed for threats. He disappeared from view for a moment, his feet crunching on debris. Seconds stretched on. Finally, he reappeared.

  “Ma’am.” He jerked his head slightly, indicating that Annette should follow. He looked at Vaughn. “Close up as soon as we’re out. Don’t open it again until we’re back.”

  “Okay,” Vaughn said.

  As soon as Annette stepped out, Vaughn slammed the door and spun the lock wheel. He hurried back to the monitor console and pressed a button to change cameras. He went through all available views until he found one showing blue sky where the conference center had once stood. He stared at it for quite some time, hoping the image would flicker and the building would reappear.

  It didn’t.

  The women began whispering in Thai.

  Vaughn didn’t break his trance.

  “Vaughn! We okay, go home now,” one of them said.

  He remained transfixed.

  The women moved forward. One of them tapped him on the shoulder. “We okay, go home now,” she said again.

  He heard the other women at the door, spinning the lock wheel.

  Vaughn turned around. “Wait! What are you doing?”

  “Go home now,” the woman said.

  The one working the lock mechanism didn’t look at him. The other three stared at him and huddled together to blockade any attempt at intervention.

  Wide-eyed, Vaughn raced over to the door and put his hand on the lock wheel. “No! It’s dangerous out there.”

  Three of the women pushed him away. The fourth pulled the door open as Vaughn tried to grab the wheel.

  The women stumbled out into the kitchen, turned the corner, and disappeared. Vaughn could hear them tripping over debris and talking rapidly to one another in Thai.

  He stood for a moment looking at the kitchen. Things had been turned over and utensils littered the floor. Nothing looked burned, but the smell of smoke was overwhelming, making him cough. He pushed the heavy door closed. The sound of the airtight seal gave him a measure of assurance.

  He spun the lock wheel, then returned to the monitors. He clicked the button to change the exterior views. He could see the women running awkwardly across a span of dust-covered ground and through the gate. Then they were gone.