by Nick Thacker
“We’ve created monstrosities of greed and pillaged what’s left of most of our natural resources. We live in a world that’s completely and utterly unsustainable.”
Jen knew Mark was taking advantage of Austin’s passion, getting him to talk.
Whatever it takes to buy us time, she thought.
“So you’ve decided to wipe it out completely,” Mark said.
“No, that’s just it! We don’t want to wipe it out completely. Just enough to rebuild, on fresh earth, breaking new ground.”
“We?” Mark asked. “The President of the United States is really in on this crap?”
“He was the original source of the idea. ‘All it would take is another world war,’ he said. I took it seriously and started working on this project a few years ago. With a little antagonizing, we could get some simple warheads thrown back and forth between countries, starting some panic, and then use the hysteria to send the world spinning.
“And then, for the finale, we’ll use this thing we’re standing on top of now to create fresh land using the mantle’s near-endless supply of volcanic materials to create some islands. As you know, Hawaii, the Philippines, and other island chains were created this way. We’ll of course do it in a much quicker way, destroying the North American continent and putting in its place a pristine landmass that will never be overrun by our pitiful race. We’ll go into a rapid decline, and finally the world will be able to restore its natural order. I must admit, most of the work was already completed when we arrived five years ago, thanks to the efforts of both the US and British governments.
“We made some alterations, but it’s a sound device, and one that will serve our purposes well. The president wasn’t originally on board with the entire plan, either, but as you can see, he’s now a huge proponent.”
Jen looked at the man she knew as the leader of the free world. His mouth was open slightly, as if in deep thought. When he sensed her looking his direction, he smiled a cocky grin and nodded. “Yes, yes, of course, yes,” he said.
Then he stared off into the distance again. Jen frowned.
“Anyway, he’s ready to go. Our president ordered missile launches yesterday from ten locations around the globe, all targeting our sworn enemies. Then he left to join us here, to investigate the station for himself after Mark revealed its existence. After he was delivered to an aircraft carrier in the mid-Atlantic and then to a submarine close by, we just needed to persuade some of the submarine crew members to sedate him for awhile.
“Like l said, he wasn’t initially a fan of the full plan. He thought a simple war would be enough. But there is a rather resilient property to the human race; wouldn’t you agree? It would never work by itself. Needless to say, after he awoke from his little ‘nap,’ he was as excited as ever to join us here for the final leg of the mission.”
“What was all the fighting about, then?” Erik asked.
“That? Oh, that was just the president’s entourage. They have always been an uptight bunch, so we couldn’t have them stalking around here while we finished up. They were exceptionally useful in keeping this whole project under wraps, but I’m afraid they were no longer able to assist us.”
Jen was growing more and more horrified as she listened.
The human race was going to be engaged in a world war.
Austin planned to start off a series of events that would have cataclysmic consequences.
And there was no way her family was going to live through it.
Jen realized something at that moment, standing in the open fields of a government research station under the Atlantic Ocean.
I have nothing more to lose.
Chapter 50
MARK HAD HEARD ENOUGH.
AUSTIN’S plan was the most insane idea he’d ever been faced with, real or not.
More importantly, it put his family at great risk.
He counted silently the number of armed hostile forces surrounding him.
Assess.
Analyze.
Abstract.
Achieve.
His training once again took over, and he moved from analytical data scientist to a man bent on staying alive.
Nine soldiers, plus Austin, the president, and Sylvia. Austin’s the target, but I need to keep Jen, Reese, and the president alive.
That meant nothing rash; nothing unplanned.
His eyes met Austin’s, and he knew he needed to keep the ruse going.
“Austin, one more thing.” Appeal to the man’s ego, he told himself. “What about this place? How did you get here? And what happened with it?”
“It is an intriguing thought, Adams,” Austin said. “But you know how government projects are—troubled by scope creep and ever-shrinking budgets. They finished the outer shell but never got around to the interior of the place.
“Nouvelle Terre, under the joint direction of my predecessor and Dr. Mitchell Storm, submitted a bid—under the umbrella of a different company, of course—for the construction to continue. We lobbied to have a floor to ourselves for research purposes.
“The proposal was granted, and we started work again about ten years later. The US government took the reins from the other two companies involved and conveniently hid all documentation regarding the base and its completion. It was a perfect situation for Nouvelle Terre, who was already dealing with political pressures from other activist groups.
“Anyway, Mitchell—who tended to be far more brash than I—finished the damn thing. He moved in, lived here, and died here. He actually named one of the levels after us.”
Mark saw Jen’s eyes grow with understanding.
“Nouvelle Terre—‘Level Ten: Rue Or.’ A simple anagram,” Austin said, satisfied. “Today, most of the station is functioning without oversight or human interaction, as you’ve probably guessed. Level Ten is our personal space, with our research labs and offices, but it’s relatively unoccupied, of course.”
As Austin spoke, Mark eyed his opening. He waited for the Russian soldier—standing two people to Mark’s right, and the only one who was still pointing his weapon at Jen, and Reese in the center of the circle—to drop his rifle. Finally, the man let his guard down for a moment, and Mark lunged. He took two steps to gain speed, then forced his body out toward the soldier to his immediate right.
The impact knocked the soldier off balance and sent both of them crashing into the next soldier in line. Mark found his feet and continued moving, jumping upward and punching at the same time. He caught the man under the chin and knocked him unconscious.
With his free hand, he reached to the man’s side and gripped the KA-BAR knife sheathed there. As the man fell, he held onto the handle of the knife and slipped it away from his body. He turned just as another Russian soldier was running toward him. Mark grabbed the knife in a tactical grip and thrust out quickly, dropping the man before he had a chance to attack.
A few of the other soldiers around the large circle had a quicker response time, and they lifted their weapons to fire just as Mark had turned toward them. They focused their attention on Mark, leaving Saunders and Nelson unattended.
Saunders had begun moving just as Mark was tackling the first soldier, and she reached out and crushed the gun-wielding hand of one of the soldiers with her elbow. He howled in pain, but the sound was quickly silenced as she ripped his head backwards with all her strength. He crumpled to the ground, and she picked up his weapon. She tossed another toward Erik, who was standing dumbstruck at the edge of the circle. “Move!” she yelled to him. Erik burst into action, fueled by fear, and began to run backwards, firing wildly at soldiers left and right. One of his shots hit the mark, and a Russian fell to the ground inches from Mark.
Nelson was engaged in combat as well, though without as much luck as his two counterparts. The person standing next to him was a Russian woman, and she was prepared for his attack. She punched him once in the gut, and he felt his eyes bulge as she landed a forceful blow to his kidney. She was fast, moving aroun
d him before he could turn, and she jumped on his back.
He reacted the only way he knew how and jumped up and backwards, trying to land on top of the woman. She swiveled around quickly and left Nelson to fall onto his back on the hard dirt, the wind leaving his body.
“For Christ’s sake,” he muttered, as he saw through tear-filled eyes the woman preparing to pounce on his exposed chest. She held a knife in one hand, and it was all he could do to roll out of the way at the last minute. She struck the dirt next to him with the knife, the blade stabbing deep into the ground, and she screamed as she realized she’d missed her target.
Nelson was ready for her.
He kicked the blade—and the woman’s hand—as hard as he could, breaking two of her fingers, then he reached out and grabbed her arm. He twisted it, causing the woman to shriek, but she turned the rest of her body to remove the pressure and punched at him with her other arm.
None of the punches landed, and Nelson used her own momentum to launch her toward a group of three men he saw racing toward Mark.
She bowled into them, causing one of them to fall over, and he reached down to pick up a gun that lay at his feet. He was about to fire when he heard Mark yell over the cacophony.
“Nelson! The president!” Mark was under bombardment from five Russian soldiers. They hadn’t fired at him, for fear that they’d hit one of their own, but it was clear that they were well versed in self-defense. Mark had been punched, kicked, and elbowed by each of them it seemed, though none of the hits had been debilitating blows.
He punched one soldier as another kicked at him, forcing him to dodge at the last second and thus lose his power.
The fighting in the main compound grew intense. Mark successfully held them off, using the advantage of being the only real objective they had. He ran for the outskirts of the fields, letting them take potshots as he developed a plan of attack.
None of the rounds hit him, but he knew they’d follow him wherever he went. He needed to get Jen and Reese to safety.
He waited for Nelson to finish his skirmish with one of the female soldiers, then he drew the man’s attention. While Mark fired a few shots toward the Russians, Nelson moved around to the rear of the group. He began to fire, immediately sending the group of soldiers to the ground. Those who weren’t hit squirmed around on the dirt, trying to move toward cover or to an angle that would allow them to return fire.
Meanwhile, Mark corralled Jen and Reese and together they ran toward the street.
Mark ran backwards, ensuring that none of the Russians got off a crack shot in their direction, and also that Nelson was safely covered. When Nelson pulled away to pursue the president, Mark turned and made a beeline for the first house on the city block.
Chapter 51
NELSON SPUN AROUND, TRYING TO spot the president. He saw him meandering toward a building—the information center they’d first seen upon entering the level when they disembarked—and he raced over to him. “Mr. President,” he said as he reached the shack. “We need to get you inside.” The graying man turned to Nelson as he approached but didn’t say anything.
Nelson grabbed him and shoved him toward the small house. He kicked the door, and the loose hinges fell completely off of the frame. It fell back into the house and landed with a loud bang on the concrete floor.
Nelson crinkled his brow. “I guess that’ll have to do,” he said. He nudged the president inside, then found a chair in the corner. “Wait here. Whatever your story is, sir, I’d sure like to hear it when we’re out of this mess.”
The president nodded.
He didn’t wait for more. He turnedand marched out the door, already fumbling with the safety on his rifle. He caught sight of Erik at the edge of one of the houses.
Move, you fool, he whispered to himself. The young man was concealed from one side, but it was the wrong side.
He sprinted toward him, allowing himself to lower the rifle to gain extra speed, and when he neared the house he shouted out. “Erik! Get in the house!”
Erik turned his head to see Nelson bearing down on him. His eyes were wide, and terror streaked across his face. He stood, dropping his gun to his side. As Nelson approached the porch at the front of the house, he heard a loud crack and dove forward.
His body hit the dirt and he covered his head with one hand as he used the other to guide the rifle around to find out where the shot had come from.
Crack!
Another round burst nearby, and Nelson caught the brief flash of the shooter’s muzzle. He reacted quickly, firing three rounds toward the black-silhouetted soldier. The man fell, and Nelson rose to check on Erik.
The geologist was lying facedown on the dirt, his gun laying a few feet away.
“Damn,” Nelson said, coming up alongside the boy. He didn’t need to feel for a pulse; two red circles had appeared on his prone back and were growing in size.
Nelson cursed again, then jogged toward the line of houses.
Chapter 52
WITH THE RIFLE IN HAND, Saunders aimed down the sights just in time to see a group of three Russians camped out at the edge of the clearing, crouched next to one of the outlying buildings.
They were already aiming in her direction.
Shit.
She dove sideways, rounds erupting on the hard-packed dirt next to her. They’d missed, but she didn’t stick around to wait for their next shots to find their mark. She rose and began to run, heading the opposite direction, toward the small information shack.
As she ran, she noticed movement to her left. Jeremiah Austin was sprinting away from the action, aiming for the stairs at the edge of the round level.
His second-in-command, the blond woman named Sylvia, was following closely behind. Saunders picked up her pace to catch up to the pair, but just as she was about to overtake Sylvia, the woman turned and began running along the perimeter of the dome.
Saunders considered chasing her—wherever she was now heading—but instead decided to continue to pursue Austin. He was now rounding the first set of stairs, and she raised her rifle.
I can make this shot. She knew she’d hit him, but she wasn’t sure if it would be just a crippling blow or one that might prove fatal.
And she couldn’t take the chance.
She ran full-out, holding her gun in one hand, and sprinted toward the top of the stairs. She reached the metal threshold just as Austin had finished descending the second set of stairs, but already she could tell that she was faster.
She would catch him.
Austin began taking the stairs two at a time, but Saunders had already begun descending in leaps, jumping from the top of one small set of stairs to the next.
At the third floor below ground, Level Seven, she came close enough to the tiring man to pounce. Saunders breathed in, tensed her upper body, and lunged forward with the force of a small car. She aimed for the small of his back, just above the pelvis, and connected perfectly with her target.
She heard him grunt, then felt his body shudder as it fell forward. Together they toppled down the stairs, landing on the sheet metal floor connecting the two sets of stairways. Before Austin had time to recover, Saunders slammed the base of her rifle hard into the back of his skull. His body gave in, collapsing into a weak pile.
Expecting the man to have been knocked out, Saunders exhaled and slid off his back. She started to stand, but was surprised when Austin, still in a prone position on the floor, kicked out with a leg and tripped Saunders. He jumped up, more spry than she’d imagined, and kicked her again in the torso before she hit the ground.
This time it was her turn to grunt. The kick landed directly above her kidney, and the pain coursed through her body with a vengeance. Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared, but she didn’t have time to recover.
Austin grabbed her by the back of her vest with one hand and punched out with his other, knocking her rifle out of her hands. She turned to watch it tumble end over end down the stairs. As she watched, Austin punc
hed again, this time missing the mark and allowing Saunders time to react and gain an advantage.
She didn’t waste it.
With Austin’s center of balance lost from his attack, she tackled him again, this time lifting him completely off his feet and carrying his body along the floor into the hard wall of the dome surrounding them. She crushed him against the wall, trying to squeeze the life out of him. She relented for a moment, then smashed forward again, this time injuring the man.
He yelped, and she heard a bone crack. Where it was on his body, she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t stop there.
Saunders let him down, and he crumpled into a fetal position on the floor. She wouldn’t be duped again, so she made sure her next attack solidified things.
With the side of her hand, she swiped downward toward his neck, slamming the hard part of her wrist on the fleshy portion of skin between his shoulder and neck. She ripped his head back, pulling on his disheveled hair, and elbowed him in the face.
She let go. Austin crumpled to the ground, a welt already appearing above his right eye.
She could see his chest rising and falling, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She pulled him up, struggling with the dead weight of the man. Once standing, she slipped her arm under his and began walking up the stairs.
Chapter 53
THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME he’d seen the inside of one of the houses.
How did these people live? Mark wondered.
Since his company had a small role in completing this research station, his interest was even more piqued. He took in the living room, dining room, and kitchen as they walked through the front door. The living room was sparse, featuring a paisley couch, rectangular glass coffee table, and a few empty picture frames on the wall. The front entry was floored in faux wood, but the rest of the living room and dining room—a small connected space that felt more like an afterthought than an actual room—was carpeted.
