And as she followed close behind, Kristie saw where all those little lizards had gone.
The warhead was crawling with them.
“What the hell?” Hicks breathed, before the first of them attacked, claws outstretched.
Hicks caught the little lizard in a single shot, and a moment later the silo echoed like a rat-shoot as he and his men started picking them off.
“Please, take care,” Hicks instructed over the ricocheting bullets, “to not shoot the nuclear missile.”
It shouldn't matter, but why take chances?
One of the soldiers kicked at one of the twitching lizards.
“What is this thing?” He looked uncomfortably up at Hicks. “Lieutenant, I let one of these loose just last week.”
Hicks turned, frowning. “What are you talking about?”
“This girl back at the base. She said she wanted to set it free. I thought it was a lab animal.” The soldier's expression was pained. “She said she couldn't bear to see it put down.” He held up his hands helplessly. “What harm could it do?”
“Um, actually sir,” another soldier spoke up, “I did too. Same thing. There was this girl.”
Hicks turned towards the rest of the troops.
Several raised their hands, nodding.
“What harm could it do?” Hicks muttered.
“I've seen these things,” Kristie said. “They talk like parrots. I found them in the broadcast booth.”
Hicks nodded. He pulled out his radio.
“You seeing this, Major?”
“On high-definition,” Tom responded. “I'm guessing they've been at every missile on this site.”
Hicks turned towards the soldier who had spoken before.
“A girl you say?” Hicks shook his head. “Why do I think I know exactly who?
He tapped his radio.
“This is Lieutenant Hicks, urgent for General Rhodes. I think we've found our leak.”
Chapter 42
When Lily left Dr. Shrinker's lab, she had gone right to Ginger.
That way, when Rhodes had appeared at their door with a dozen armed soldiers, there was nothing out of order.
Having been introduced to the Mount as a group, the Coven had more or less commandeered the majority of the lodgings on their hall, and most other civilian refugees tended to avoid their entire area.
Each hall had its own rec-room/laundry facility, and this was where Rhodes found them.
Lily found the General intimidating any old time. Today, he wore his war face.
And beside him, Corporal Stevens, who Lily had left only a short time ago with soda-pop flirts and smiles, now glared back at her with real anger.
That was not a good look in a man. That was another thing the Coven had taught her early – be careful how far you push your mark – no one likes being suckered.
Doubtless, that was particularly true of a General.
Ginger stood as Rhodes entered with his armed escort, but he had frozen her with a raised finger, motioning her to sit back down. Ginger complied readily enough.
“Can we help you, General?” she asked innocently.
Rhodes nodded to his men. “Look around,” he said.
Ginger exchanged a brief glance with Luna, and then to Lily, herself. Lily was uncertain if the look was of confidence, or if she were again taking the rap for circumstances.
Stevens and the other soldiers started turning the place up, pulling out drawers, turning over furniture.
The room, however, just wasn't that big.
“I'm not finding anything, sir,” Stephens said.
Ginger and Luna blinked at the General, completely deadpan. Lily began to believe the fates were working in her favor this time.
Then Michelle walked in.
Rhodes raised an eyebrow in her direction. “Well?”
Michelle pointed to the grating in the wall.
This time, it was Christine who rose to her feet – the Coven's other enforcer – stepping up to intercept Stevens as he reached for the grating.
Minus her pistol, however, she was somewhat declawed, and Corporal Stevens sat her down roughly. Making no bones, he brandished his weapon in her face, before turning to pull the grate cover off the wall.
There was a sudden squealing, and movement like scurrying rats.
Scaly clawed rats. The little lizard's toe-claws scraped metal as they vanished down the ventilation shaft.
Rhodes himself shoved the grating aside, peering inside.
It looked like a hamster-habitat – pack-rat and animal like – which seemed totally incongruent with what you knew about them.
Lying among the scattered pellets and torn bones of what looked like actual rats, there was an empty torn pack and several scattered pneumatic needles – all empty.
Christine was staring an evil-eye right through Michelle, who stared right back. Two enforcers now at odds, although both knew, unarmed, Christine was nowhere near the handful Michelle was.
“Bitch,” Christine hissed venomously.
Michelle's lips crooked in a rough smile.
“Duh.”
Ginger and Luna both seemed utterly taken aback – Ginger, in particular, who was the keeper of the scrolls and utterly scandalized. Michelle had always been their stalwart. This was an almost ultimate betrayal.
“Why?” Ginger asked.
Michelle was utterly unabashed.
“Because I'm not going down with you.”
And at that, Lily understood. Michelle had been their warrior for the same reason she had been a dancer – and a gangster – she was in it for the perks, and the lust to indulge her every fleeting desire – an utterly amoral creature of pure passion.
Personal sacrifice was not in her character. The only authority she recognized was power, and only followed where there was personal benefit.
Lily didn't know what Rhodes had done to her in that interview, but he'd obviously convinced Michelle where that lay.
Michelle saw Lily looking at her, brokenhearted, the way a girl looks at an idolized big sister fallen from grace.
“I can't believe you did this to us,” Lily said.
Michelle's hardened face suddenly looked haunted.
Her eyes stole to the hole in the wall where Otto had disappeared.
“That little lizard,” she said, “it really IS the dragon.”
She eyed Lilly meaningfully.
“And don't think for one second that he's going to spare you.”
Rhodes nodded to Stevens.
“Take the group of them up to the detention level.”
The General eyed the gathered Coven.
“Ladies,” he said, “that will be your new home for the immediate future.”
Lily felt herself snatched-up roughly as Stevens angrily yanked her to her feet.
“Easy, soldier,” Rhodes cautioned.
There was a brief scuffle as Christine had to be restrained, but the rest of the Coven acquiesced obediently enough.
Luna, always the philosopher, had scowled.
“It wasn't like we weren't prisoners already,” she said.
“Well,” Rhodes countered mildly, “if you weren't, you are now.”
Chapter 43
The news from the Maelstrom site was every bit as bad as Major Tom had expected.
There was no telling how long Otto had been there – likely checking into the Mount via radio reports in chirps and quips taken from the slaughtered troops. That left more than five-hundred individual warheads unguarded for weeks. The little gremlins had no doubt been into everything from the launch-systems, to targeting, to the warheads themselves.
Tom shuddered to think what might have happened if Rhodes had provided the launch code. And likely would have, because with the impending bloom, there was nothing left to them but nuclear options.
Options which had now been narrowed down to one submarine and a handful of planes capable of delivering warheads.
The sub, theoretically, was the mo
st viable. By its very nature, it was least affected by the EMPs that had nullified most modern tech – they were their own Faraway cages, and retained advanced targeting programs that could launch anywhere in the world.
The Anchorage currently waited to assume launch depth, holding upon orders.
Rhodes, however, had kept them on stand-by. And Tom knew why, well enough.
So far, the only nuclear option they'd been able to employ successfully at all since KT-day was the most hands-on, and the most dangerous – piloted jets. And while that was also their sparest resource, circumstances allowed for little margin of error with untested options.
Hail Marys were for last-ditch of desperation. And while that might yet be hanging in the wings, for the moment, Captain Mason waited on-call.
Their saving grace was that this time they had the advantage of satellite-imagery, otherwise they wouldn't know where to shoot until the bloom was upon them.
Otto's screens were helpful too, having zeroed in on all his preferred targets. Among the spinning digital global models detailing nuclear sites, volcanic/thermal hot-spots, along with oceans and active weather patterns, almost every screen at least had a pop-up with satellite views keyed to the energy signature of the Food of the Gods.
Tom glanced over his shoulder at the security-screen, which was still empty.
The little bastards seemed to have disappeared for the moment. But Tom knew that only meant they were up to something.
Tom had already resolved to destroy the station. It simply couldn't be left in their hands.
That required a few logistics to work out – the most viable option would be flammable gas and fire. Setting it up, however, could prove problematic. He had no idea how many of the little lizards were actually on-board, waiting in some hidden compartment to spring out and slash his throat.
There was also the fact that the escape pods were docked off the Russian cargo-module, right in the direction the escaping Ottos had disappeared.
If push came to shove, he would tank ISS, and go down with the ship, but he would at least try to get to the pods.
But he couldn't go anywhere yet. For the moment, he still had to coordinate with Rhodes.
The situation on the ground, however, just kept getting worse.
It was actually the sheer boldness of it that kept Tom from seeing it straight out.
Otto had several screens running simulations – all global models.
The big bloom Tom had spotted sprouting earlier had been on the central screen – a localized view covering maybe a hundred square miles – the risk to the Mount was based on a helpful projected model Otto had running right next to it.
It wasn't until he pulled back the view that he realized that the model next to it, running simultaneously, wasn't actually a model at all.
Tom zoomed back the view of the first screen and realized they were both live.
Things weren't worse, he realized.
They were a LOT worse.
Rhodes wasn't going to like this.
Tom tapped the comm, but before he could bring up the General's line, there was a squawk over the speakers.
When he looked up, the toothy lizard faces were back in front of the security screen, gibbering like monkeys for the cameras.
A moment later, the lights in the ISS went out.
Chapter 44
Rhodes had his men crawling down the ventilation pipes as far as they could, finding a long trail of rat-like scraps and feces.
They also found the gnawed bones of Nurse Rose.
Sally wondered if that had come up during Michelle's little interview concerning the nurse's disappearance.
As the Coven was escorted out, Christine made a move at Rhodes with a palmed steak knife. Michelle stepped forward, catching the thrust, and swung her hips into one of her snappy spin-kicks – made famous at Susie's Bar – catching Christine full in the face, knocking her cold. Ginger and Luna caught her as she fell, both of them glaring at Michelle, who responded with a complete snub.
Sally wasn't sure who she should hate more. Nurse Rose had been her friend.
Michelle was led away with the rest – although, presumably not to detention – while Rhodes oversaw the ransack of the entire hall.
Then the radio on his hip beeped.
“General?” Dr. Shriver's voice said. “Something's come up. I need to talk to you right away.”
Rhodes glanced at Sally. There was urgency in the doctor's normally deadpan tone.
“Meet me up top in my office,” Rhodes said. He nodded to his men. “I want the entire complex swept. Warehouse, barracks, everything. You find anything, you let me know.”
Sally hurried to follow as Rhodes turned for the door.
The General was in his fifties, and solidly over two-hundred pounds, but Sally found herself struggling to keep up as he took the stairs to the upper floors – perhaps impatient for the elevator, or possibly just energy to burn.
When they stepped into his office, they found three of the little lizards standing on his desk.
Along the wall, the safe was open and the documents inside – targeting codes for nuclear launch – were spread out on Rhodes' desk and shredded into confetti.
The Ottos hissed.
“Son of a bitch!” Rhodes blurted, and in a flash, his sidearm was up and firing.
Two of the scaly little vermin were blown off the desktop, as the third made for the open grating in the wall.
Letting out a deceptively calm breath, Rhodes cracked off one more shot, sending the little rat spinning into the corner.
Sally blinked – it was over before she even reached to turn on the lights.
Rhodes bent over his desk, looking at the torn documents, rubbing one hand on his temple.
“Well,” he said, “let's see how bad they've screwed us.”
“Oh. Pretty bad, I'm afraid,” a voice said from behind them.
They turned to find Dr. Shriver standing at the elevator.
“The situation might be worse than we thought.”
“I already thought it was pretty bad,” Rhodes said. He turned to Shriver in his combat pose, like a fighter waiting to see what his opponent might throw.
Sally had always been a little scared of Shriver, but now the doctor actually seemed nervous.
“Well, sir,” he said reluctantly, “it looks like we're missing a few bottles of the Food of the Gods.”
Rhodes blinked once. “Come again?”
Shriver shifted uncomfortably.
“Um. It seems several containers have been replaced with... well, it looks like shampoo. Prell, I think. It matches the emerald green and the inherent glow is not obviously absent when placed among other bottles.”
Rhodes looked at him mildly.
“Let me get this straight. You're actually telling me several containers – in your care – that should be loaded with the most destructive chemical ever known, are instead filled with Prell?”
“Or possibly a designer brand,” Shriver said, nodding.
Sally saw one of Rhodes' hands drift to the still-smoking pistol at his belt.
The General took a deep breath.
“Wow,” he said. “I almost just shot you over that one.”
His hand, however, did not move from his waist. And when he spoke, his calm voice was deadly matter-of-fact.
“We can still get there.” Rhodes eyed the doctor seriously. “You better start being real valuable real soon. What exactly is the potential damage?”
Shriver cleared his voice.
“The amount that's missing,” he said, “released over a widespread area, even in small doses, could infect an entire region.”
Dr. Shriver noted the dead twitching lizards on the floor, and then the torn documents on the desk.
“What happened here?”
“Those,” Rhodes said, “are the rats in the walls you were telling us about. And that shredded pile on my desk is all the launch codes for every self-delivered missile we have a
vailable to us.”
Sally, however, noticed one scrap on the floor, right next to the grating where the last Otto had tried to escape.
“This one isn't torn,” she said. “What is it?”
Rhodes frowned. “It's the combination to Captain Mason's safe on the Anchorage.”
Submarine firing-codes were always kept on-board because of the potential for lost contact. The combination would be wired to the Captain of the vessel in case of a launch order, including instructions of which firing package to activate.
“Get Mason on the horn,” he said. “Right away.”
“Already got him on stand-by, sir,” Sally said.
“Put him on speaker.”
“Mason here, sir.”
“Captain,” Rhodes said, starting his relentless march around his desk, “have you received further contact with me since your stand-by order?”
“Negative, sir.”
“Captain,” Rhodes said, “this is not a reprimand, but we must consider your option compromised. Under no circumstances initiate any launch mission within the next forty-eight hours. Even on orders from me. Understood?”
There was a pause.
“Yes, sir.”
“Withdraw to safe ground until further notice,” Rhodes said. He turned to Sally. “Get Major Travis online. Tell him he's up.”
“Sir?” Sally said, “I've got incoming from Major Tom, sir,”
Rhodes tapped his speaker.
“General,” Tom blurted, out-of-breath, “you've got a big bloom coming, sir!”
“You said that already, Major. We're dealing with it.”
“No sir,” he said. “I've got it on satellite. It's bigger. I mean a lot bigger.”
Rhodes turned a dark eye in Shriver's direction.
“It's already sprouted, sir,” Tom continued. “And on simple biomass alone it will easily engulf the Mount.”
“We're not ground-zero?”
Tom paused.
“No, sir. It tracks about two-hundred miles west.”
Rhodes shut his eyes. “Of course it does. And I think I know why.”
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