“Let’s put your work to the test,” Kate said. “Ready, Sammy?”
“Ready,” she replied.
“I want to see if the mastermind will listen to our commands. Tell it to stand.”
Sammy’s fingers worked across the keyboard.
For a second, nothing happened. Then the monster began to push itself up, eyes still roving back and forth like it was drunk. It managed to stand, wavering as it did.
“Damn, I didn’t think it would actually listen,” Sammy said.
“Tell it to walk forward,” Kate said.
Sammy typed in the command, and the monster shivered, huge saucer eyes pulsating, searching around the chamber. Saliva dripped from its toothy maw.
“I think I let the sedatives off too much,” Sean said, beginning to twist the regulator.
“Hold on.” Kate put up a hand to stay him.
The mastermind took a stumbling step forward. Its eyelids peeled back a little more, and its lips shook into a snarl as it continued to walk forward until the slack in the chains started to disappear, straining against the scaffolds.
With a snarl, the beast reared back one of its claws. Messages scrolled across Sammy’s computer screen.
Where am I? What’s going on? Enemies everywhere! Where is master? What does he command?
But this time, Kate didn’t signal for Sean to knock the creature out.
“Sammy, tell it to stand down. Tell it we are the master.”
The beast pulled against its restraints. Chains clinked together, and dust fell from the ceiling; iron groaned, echoing around the cavernous room. Sammy’s fingers worked across the keyboard.
With a final lurch, the beast stopped and stood, relaxing its limbs.
Master? came the message back on the screen.
“Yes,” Sammy typed back. “Sit down.”
The beast dropped immediately, a long sigh coming from its flared nostrils. A tremor rocked through the laboratory.
“See?” Sammy asked, looking at Sean. “We got this under control.”
Kate nodded. “Good work. What else should we tell it?”
The team began a more complicated conversation with the mastermind, asking about the number of Variants back where they had extracted it in New Orleans and how many other masterminds were out there. It knew pitiful little intel; it was more of a tool than a real ‘mind’ at all.
Sammy let out an exasperated sigh. “I guess we can think of this Bio-node thing as more of a Wi-Fi router that merely transmits and receives complicated signals. It’s not like a hard drive that contains and stores a bunch of data.”
While they couldn’t drag out more useful intel from the monster, they had at least managed to fool the mastermind into thinking they were on its side. That was good news for weaponizing their technology, Kate thought.
“We should be able to load this software onto other computers,” Carr said.
“Then we can install the same language processing applications on other computers. This is our Rosetta Stone,” Kate said excitedly. “Wherever Ringgold’s armies go, they can hook those computers up to the Variant network to monitor and disrupt communications.”
The other scientists and engineers around them nodded in agreement, looking pleased with their victory. But Kate noticed one who was not.
“Sammy, what’s wrong?” Kate asked. “Is something not working?”
“No, it’s all working… Quite well in fact. That’s the problem.”
“I don’t follow,” Carr said.
“Think about it.” Sammy nodded toward the mastermind.
“Someone or something not only created creatures like this one, but they perfected the webbing network and a neural-biological interface to go along with it,” she said. “All in a matter of years. That person, this master that the beast mentioned, must be more intelligent and powerful than these beasts.”
“That person is the true mastermind,” Kate said. Realization seized all sense of accomplishment.
Sammy nodded. “That’s who we have to find and destroy for this nightmare to end.”
— 22 —
Daylight glowed over the pine trees casting their shadows across the makeshift camp. Dohi and Mendez were out searching the area, but Fitz, Ace, and Rico were seated around the tree trunks. Dirt covered their fatigues, and deep bruises underscored their eyes, evidence of the lack of sleep they all suffered from.
But exhaustion was the most innocuous thing they had to endure.
Fitz stood, his blades creaking. Rico followed. They walked past a couple of men with bloody bandages. A few Wolfhounds secured the perimeter, their rifles probing the shadows among the woods.
Singh was leaning against a tree with a canteen in his hands, head bowed, either in prayer or asleep.
“Lieutenant,” Fitz said.
He looked up and cleared his throat. “Master Sergeant,” Singh replied. “Do we have a final head count?”
“Two dead, another six injured. And… three missing.” Fitz gritted his teeth together, imagining what had happened to the three who were missing.
Neither of the men needed to think too hard about their fate assuming they’d fallen into those crazy people’s hands. These demented, sick people devoured Variants in some ironic twist of fate, and if they did that they would savor the flesh of a normal man.
Singh tugged at his beard, gazing up at the blue sky between the tree branches as if he was looking for an aircraft to come rescue them.
“How long are we going to sit here?” Singh asked. “It can’t be safe.”
“I’ve got Dohi off making sure we’re not being tracked,” Fitz said. “He’s also looking for any injured that may have been lost during our retreat.”
“We’ll know if someone’s coming,” Rico said, joining them.
“Your man basically walked into a trap before, what makes you think he will…” Singh let his words trail.
But he was right. Dohi had seen this coming too late. If he had failed, that meant these men were damn good.
“We stay here, and stay frosty,” Fitz said. “We won’t make the same mistake again.”
“What about calling in reinforcements?” Singh asked.
Rico let out a wry chuckle. “Reinforcements? What reinforcements? Hate to break it to you, LT, but we’re on the other side of the country. We’re it. This is on us now.”
“Afraid that’s true,” Fitz said. “When we left for this mission, our defenses around the outposts were already stretched thin. We were the only teams that Cornelius and Ringgold could spare. Even if they changed their mind and granted us reinforcements, it’s not going to happen soon enough for Hopkins or the others, especially with all the attacks happening around the outposts.”
Rico spat on the ground. “And frankly, I don’t want to be responsible for sapping vital defensive forces away from those outposts. They need to be defending the families and strongholds we’ve got left in the Allied States.”
“I agree,” Singh said.
Fitz shifted on his blades, happy to hear the Lieutenant was on the same page about that. “We’ll get your men back, and in the process, we’ll secure the Rolling Stone technology. I’m not leaving California until that happens.”
“Future of the Allied States is relying on us,” Rico said. Then she leaned forward a bit, a shock of pink hair coming loose. She brushed it back. “You ever seen the tunnels those Variants and Alphas create?”
That caught Singh off-guard. His brow scrunched, and he shook his head.
“You ever see what they do to people in those tunnels? How the beasts string them up to die?” she asked.
Again, Singh shook his head.
“Then count yourself lucky,” she continued. “It’s a sight that’ll haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. But if we retrieve the SDS equipment, we can make sure those tunnels are a thing of the past.”
“Once Dohi returns we’ll come up with a game plan to get your men back and get inside this AO,” Fitz s
aid.
Singh nodded. If he hadn’t been convinced earlier, he was now.
Fitz motioned to Rico, and they joined Ace back under the wide branches of a pine swaying in the wind, isolated from the Wolfhounds.
For a few long moments, the camp was quiet except for the groans of the wounded.
Ace went to get up when Fitz and Rico walked over.
“Sit and rest,” Fitz said.
Ace used his finger to comb some of the dirt from his white beard that was also stained from a bloody nose.
“How you doing, brother?” Fitz asked.
“Like I just woke up after drinking the rest of the beer in the Allied States,” he grumbled. “And then got hit by a Humvee.”
Rico let out a low chuckle, and Fitz grinned.
He sighted movement through the tree line and pointed.
“Dohi’s back,” Fitz said.
Mendez accompanied the tracker.
“Well?” Fitz asked.
Dohi wiped sweat from his face. “I didn’t find any of the missing men, but I did spot some scouts,” he said. “They’re on the other side of the freeway for now, but come night, I bet they head our way.”
“Then we just need to wait and mow those fuckers down,” Mendez said. “They caught us with our pants down, and now it’s their turn to get ambushed.”
Dohi’s face appeared mostly expressionless when he replied. “That won’t work.”
“I agree,” Fitz said. “They know we’re out here. They’ll expect us. We already lost our element of surprise.”
“We lost a hell of a lot more than that,” Rico said.
“These guys aren’t what Cornelius promised,” Mendez said. “We need to roll in by ourselves and give these assholes a good taste of their own medicine as mi madre used to say.”
“Cool it, bro,” Ace said.
Mendez cursed to himself and gestured toward the Wolfhounds.
“Cool it? These guys are like zombies now,” he said. “Useless to us.”
“They lost some of their brothers today and they trusted us to keep them safe. What do you expect?” Fitz said.
Lincoln, Tanaka, Stevenson, and so many other fallen soldiers flashed through his mind. For a fleeting moment, Fitz felt a white-hot ball of rage.
“So what do you want to do?” Mendez asked. “You trying to say we call this off? That we abandon the mission because they can’t handle it?”
Rico kicked at some of the leaves on the ground, shaking her head. “No, that’s not what he’s saying, Mendez. We’re saying to chill out.”
“Impossible for me to chill when we’re chained to these guys,” Mendez replied. “They’re a mission hazard. Might as well tie an anchor around our feet and throw us in the damn Pacific.”
“What about the men we got back at the plane?” Ace asked. “That might be the next best thing to reinforcements we can get.”
“No can do,” Rico said, apparently thinking along the same lines. “Imagine that those cannibals find the C-130 without enough of Cornelius’ men to defend it.”
“They’re cannibals?” Dohi asked. “Thought you said they were eating Variants.”
“Variants are just very sick, mutated humans,” Ace said. “Until ya’ll come up with a better word for people that eat Variants, Rico’s right on the money. Those people are cannibals with a twisted palate.”
“Cannibals or not, we’re royally screwed if they take the C-130 or destroy it,” Rico added.
“Agreed,” Fitz said.
“So what’s the plan, boss?” Ace asked.
Fitz looked between the team. “Mendez isn’t totally wrong.”
“Seriously?” Rico asked.
Mendez patted his rifle. “Hell yes, I’m right.”
Fitz looked to Dohi.
“You’re going to find us a way into that base and into those warehouses without the cannibals following us,” Fitz said. “The Wolfhounds will hold security near the freeway and cover our escape.”
“They’ll be waiting for us,” Dohi said. “It won’t be easy.”
“No, it won’t be easy, but I think we’ve got a way we can get it done without losing more lives.”
Fitz hashed out the details with Team Ghost before he would bring the idea to Singh. As they planned, a piercing cry erupted over the woods.
“What the hell was that?” Ace asked.
“Sounded like a Variant,” Mendez said.
Dohi shook his head. “No, that was human.”
The voice blasted over the trees once more, a strangulated yell of tortured agony. All around the camp the Wolfhounds got to their feet and readied their weapons.
The screech sounded closer the next time it rang out.
Fitz steeled himself, imagining what terrible things the cannibals were doing to the missing men.
The Wolfhounds all froze in place, as more pained screams traveled through the woods like spirits haunting the forest.
Fitz had promised Singh he would help find his men, but he feared now it was going to be too late. If they were to escape with the SDS equipment from Project Rolling Stone, they couldn’t delay much longer.
He left his team and returned to the lieutenant.
Singh stood stiffly in front of Fitz. The man was different now, his jaw clenched tightly and his face a mask of determination as a result of those screams.
“Those are my men, aren’t they?” he asked.
Fitz nodded. “They’re trying to frighten us.”
“It’s working,” Singh replied, glancing at his surviving soldiers. “But we didn’t come out here to turn tail and run.”
The agonized wails echoed once again.
“Good, because tonight my team is going back in, and I need your boys to watch our back,” Fitz said.
“Oh, we can do that, brother, and more,” Singh said. “I’ve got an idea on how to keep those cannibals occupied for a while.”
***
A cool wind cut through Outpost Manchester’s town square. The fiery leaves littering the ground rustled, and the breeze plucked other dead leaves off spindly tree branches.
“Watch this,” Horn said to Javier and his daughters. He tossed a stick like a boomerang. It sliced through the air. Ginger and Spark exploded toward it, racing to find it in a pile of leaves.
Beckham and Kate hung out behind a park bench, watching Horn and the kids play with the dogs. Beckham was feeling a bit better after an uneventful night and a quiet morning. A brief phone conversation earlier with President Ringgold had confirmed no other major attacks had occurred elsewhere.
But he wasn’t fooled by one peaceful night. He knew the enemy was out there, scheming and waiting to strike like they had for eight years.
The citizens of Outpost Manchester were out this afternoon and didn’t seem to be concerned. A glance around the town square and surrounding streets might have looked almost normal to an unwary onlooker.
A long line of people waited patiently for food outside townhall. The sporadic laughter of children and even some adults filled the afternoon with rare sounds of joy.
Kate drank from a mug of steaming coffee, enjoying a brief respite from lab work.
“How’s your head feeling?” she asked.
Beckham shrugged. “Just a bump, could have been a lot worse… How are things going in the lab?”
Kate took another sip. “I think we’re going to crack the code by tonight.”
“That’s great. President Ringgold said she’ll have a bird ready to evacuate us as soon as you’re done.”
“And go where?”
Javier tossed a stick, and Ginger leapt into the air, catching it in her teeth.
“Good catch, girl!” Jenny cried out.
Javier smiled proudly and looked to his dad who smiled back.
“I don’t know,” Beckham said to Kate. “Maybe back to the Johnson.”
“We have to tell the kids about Timothy, Bo, and Donna soon… But I’d rather wait until we leave this place.”
“Agreed.” Beckham hated the idea of going back to the warship. And he hated having to tell the kids their friends were dead and their home destroyed.
“Any updates on Fitz and the others?” she asked.
“Nothing new, and the longer we don’t…” He let his words trail off. They both knew the more time Ghost spent on the frontier, the less likely they would come home.
Jenny laughed, then threw another stick. “Go get it!”
Both dogs bolted after it, exploding through the piles of leaves while the kids laughed.
“What about the juveniles?” Kate asked quietly, her eyes pinned on the kids.
Beckham kept his voice even lower.
“They took out two Raven scouts. The team that went to locate the Variants didn’t find any tracks. It was like they’d vanished into thin air.”
Kate kept staring at the kids.
He said what they were both probably thinking.
“This place is a ticking time bomb, Kate. I want to get out of here as soon as you finish your work.”
“Me too, and that’s a good reminder that break time is over.”
“I didn’t mean this second…”
“It’s okay, Reed.” She planted a kiss on his lips and walked over to the kids. “I’ve got to go, guys, give me a hug.”
Javier came running, along with the dogs wagging their tails.
“Good luck,” Horn said. He offered a brisk salute.
“Take care of my family,” she said to him.
“Always, Kate.”
She smiled at Beckham and then returned to the sidewalk where two soldiers were already waiting to escort her. Beckham watched her go before joining the kids.
“Mom sure works a lot now,” Javier said.
“I know, buddy, but she’s almost done,” Beckham replied.
“Awesome. Then do we get to go home?”
“I miss Timothy,” Tasha said. “Wish I could at least give him a call.”
“And I miss my bed,” Jenny said.
Horn raised an eyebrow. “How old are you again?”
Jenny laughed. “Not an old fart like you.”
A pair of black Humvees with the Raven logo pulled up outside of the park, a welcome distraction from the questions.
Extinction Cycle: Dark Age Box Set | Books 1-4 Page 59
