"Sir?"
"Major Wilson can secure the platform. I want you to focus on closing down the enemy portal and capturing technology."
"Just the technology, sir?"
Colonel Jackson met his eye steadily. "Just the technology."
"I'm on it, sir."
The colonel handed him a map of the oil platform. "Godspeed."
After only a second of hesitation, Harrison entered the hole in the air.
The feeling was worse this time than it had been the last. He could feel something clawing at him as he passed through the black void. He came out the other side feeling nauseated and dirty. His skin crawled, and he wanted nothing more than to shower until the feeling went away, but he knew he didn't have time for that.
Wilson and his men didn't look much better. One of them was retching in the corner. Three Air Force Security Force personnel were staring at them as if they were ghosts, but at least they didn't open fire. One of them shook himself like a dog getting out of water and then told them to follow him. He led them out of the hanger to where an MH-60G Pave Hawk was waiting, powered up and ready to lift.
The warm, humid Florida air was a shock to the system after the sterile chill of the Jellico Mountain Complex. Harrison let the others pile aboard and then took the door gunner position with the GAU 16A/.50 machine gun. He noticed that Wilson took the one on the other side, and grinned as the chopper lifted from the tarmac.
"Pilot says we'll be at the rig in twenty minutes," Wilson shouted over the radio. "We don't know the disposition of the landing zone, so Major Harrison and I will clear it and provide suppressive fire while you men spread out and secure it. As soon as that is done, we'll join you, and the chopper will fall back to a safe distance to await retrieval."
Harrison nodded. It's what he would have done in the same situation.
The sun was setting, and there were few clouds in the sky. The evening air was still warm, even at the speed they were going, but Harrison couldn't relax. They had no idea how many troops the enemy had on the rig.
"Major!" Wilson shouted. "What can you tell us about the enemy? Weapons, et cetera?"
"The ones I've encountered were trained and equipped like standard US Marines. M4 carbines, light body armor or none at all, grenades."
"They use the same training and tactics?"
"Have they told you where the enemy comes from, major?"
"Dixon spouted some nonsense to us in the brief, but it didn't make much sense."
"You should listen better. It isn't nonsense. They essentially are US Marines," Harrison replied. "They'll be tough. Don't underestimate them."
"Got it."
The rig came up soon after, and the pilot pulled from the water to circle the landing pad. Major Wilson opened up with his machine gun, and a moment later Harrison did the same. Wilson's team rappelled down to the deck. It was all over in a few seconds.
"Pad secure!"
Harrison slid down the line and readied his rifle as he sought cover. The enemy were already beginning to regroup, and sporadic fire came from the dense forest of pipes that made up the oil platform.
"What are chances we blow ourselves to hell with a stray bullet?" asked Wilson.
Harrison glared at him. He didn't want to think about that.
Chapter Twenty-One
Wilson's team rapidly fanned out through the pipes, shooting anything that moved. Harrison checked his map. Several areas had been circled as probable locations for the enemy team to have come through. The portal device needed room to open, as far as he knew. He had no idea what would happen if anyone tried to open a portal in the space something else occupied, and he didn't want to find out.
What Harrison wanted to know was how the enemy had more accurate targeting data than his own people did. The enemy must have spies everywhere. That wasn't a comforting thought. They'd had enough information to get operatives into the airport and try to kill him.
Why? What's so important about me? he thought. Is it because of the other Harrison?
He didn't have answers to those questions or the hundreds of others that he had. All he knew was that the enemy wanted to end his way of life, and he'd been ordered to stop them. That was good enough for him. At least for now.
The most probable place for the portal was the landing pad, of course, but it hadn't been there. That meant the enemy had come in somewhere else. There was an open space near the administration center, but Harrison suspected they had come in as close to the central well as possible. All of the data suggested that the enemy were really hurting for fossil fuels over in their own universe. They needed as much raw oil as possible, and that meant hooking a line directly into the central well.
It was a good working theory, anyway.
That was another of those questions to which he didn't have an answer. Fossil fuels weren't exactly rare. So why did the enemy have to resort to raiding alternate Earths to get more? Why didn't they spend their resources looking for more oil on their own world? Somehow, Harrison doubted he'd ever know for certain.
Harrison kept his SCAR ready as he advanced, carefully checking each of the bodies he came across. Most of the bodies were oil workers and had been dead for hours. The enemy hadn't bothered to release a plague here; they'd just shot everyone they saw. Many of the workers looked as if they'd been trying to fight back, but pipes and wrenches against guns don't work all that well. He had to give the roughnecks credit, though: they had taken a few of the enemy down with them.
He heard sporadic gunfire as he advanced, but he couldn't tell if it was from Wilson's team or the enemy. Harrison wasn't entirely sure he cared for his orders, but orders were orders, and they needed that technology. He felt a strange compassion that he didn't understand for this enemy. Maybe it was because of his double. He wanted to know what possible circumstances could have made him turn out to be a fascist. He wasn't racist. He didn't care what color a person's skin was; people were people. Perhaps it was the thought that the America on the other side had been at war for so long. You did what you had to do to survive. Did the other Harrison ever think about rebelling?
He shook his head and moved forward.
He probably wouldn't be doing the enemy soldiers any favors by capturing them, anyway, given what had been done to the men captured in previous raids. Obviously, Washington didn't share his doubts about them. It wasn't that he wasn't willing to kill them – he was – it was just... He wished there was another way to resolve this whole situation.
Harrison heard low voices and crept into a position where he could see what was going on. Five men stood guard around a hole in the air with several thick flexible tubes running into it. He'd been right about the enemy plan. They were trying to get as much crude oil as possible before pulling out. He could hear gunfire getting closer – Wilson's team was closing in on this position – but he saw an opportunity that hadn't occurred to him before.
The portal being wide open meant the enemy's delicate equipment on the other side was vulnerable. They had to keep the portal open to move oil through it, and that meant that he could send them a little something extra.
He loaded a high-explosive grenade into his underslung launcher and was bringing it to bear on the portal when he heard a stealthy sound from behind. He ducked just in time, and a bullet ricocheted centimeters from his head. The man was on him before he could draw his own pistol, and they wrestled in among the pipes.
He heard shouts from the guards around the portal; his time was running out. The man on him was trying to get his arm around Harrison to choke him or break his neck. Harrison used his legs to slam the man back into some pipes and got free as his arm loosened. It was too close to be using a gun, so Harrison drew his long fighting knife. The enemy soldier grinned and drew his own knife, a huge Bowie.
"Right," Harrison muttered. "Here I thought it wouldn't be a fair fight."
He surprised the enemy soldier by charging him. A Bowie that size needed room to be used properly, and Harrison didn'
t intend to give him that room. He caught his opponent's wrist as he swung and pulled the man into his own knife, striking down between the collarbone and shoulder, deep into the man's chest. The enemy soldier let out a gurgling cry and slumped. Harrison gave the knife a good twist before pulling it out. He flinched as the hot blood sprayed across his face, but he didn't have time to worry about contagions.
The soldiers around the portal were disconnecting the tubes in preparation for pulling out. Harrison couldn't let that happen without sending them his gift. He snatched up his rifle and launched the grenade into the hole. The result was almost anticlimactic. There was a sudden overpressure, and then the hole was just gone. The men who had been guarding it stood around looking stunned and confused even as Harrison gunned them down.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A few weeks later, Harrison entered the lower-level briefing room again. He was early, which was unusual for him. I need to watch that, he thought. People might get used to it. He'd taken a week off after the oil platform operation to recover and get his head back on straight. He'd rented a car and drove up to Cincinnati to see Delling and talk with him about how he was feeling.
Delling hadn't had a lot of useful advice. Delling had a good life for himself. He'd hooked up with a good woman, an FBI agent, and looked to be ready to settle down, maybe even get married. He'd quit the military years before and suggested that Harrison do the same. It wasn't that easy, though. How do you walk away from saving the world?
Harrison didn't have any answers; he just knew he couldn't walk away from it all. He was too old to be looking for some other line of work, and what would it matter if everyone died of a plague from the next universe over? How could you even prepare for that? What was he going to do? Become a hermit in his cabin in Tennessee? No. He had to see this thing through.
Colonel Jackson greeted him as he entered the briefing room. "How's the ear, major?"
"Good. Thank you, sir. I can't even tell the difference, minus a slight bit of ringing, which I've been assured will go away. Dr. Ferguson says I'm fully recovered. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me what I'll be doing." He hoped it wouldn't be just more killing. He'd had enough of that to fill several lifetimes. On the other hand, what else would they need someone like him for?
"Have a seat. I think you know everyone?"
Harrison glanced around the briefing room. He was at least acquainted with the others. Most of them were from Dr. Dixon's team. The scientist smiled at him as he sat down. Harrison had heard that Dixon was really pleased with the data from the enemy's hard drives. He was currently Dixon's personal hero. Harrison figured that would last as long as he kept getting new toys to play with.
"As you are all no doubt aware," Colonel Jackson began, standing and gesturing for the guard to seal the room, "there hasn't been an incursion in three weeks. Not since Major Harrison fired a grenade through the portal on the oil platform."
Harrison couldn't tell if the colonel was happy about that or not.
"There is no way for us to know if the major was able to hurt the enemy that badly, or if they stopped attacking for some other reason. In either case, the president has lowered the alert status. We are to assume that we are somewhat safe for the time being."
"How does that affect the response teams, sir?" asked Harrison. He nodded to Major Wilson, who was in command of the teams. Harrison had been out of the loop for a few weeks after the last incursion, so he wasn't sure about everyone's current status.
"It doesn't really affect them at all. That said, Operation Aquarian Frequency is officially over as of twelve hundred today. At that time, a new project recently approved by the House Committee for Homeland Security will officially begin. This is Project Brimstone; all internal correspondence will bear the new name and logo."
"So it's still under USSOCOM?"
"Yes, major. Project Brimstone has been cleared black by the Defense Department. Not that we're likely to receive unlimited funds, but no one will be breathing down our backs about our expenditures, either."
"Great. Can I have a raise?" Harrison quipped.
"Get in line, major," Dr. Dixon replied. They'd come to know each other fairly well in the weeks after his surgery, and the scientist was comfortable enough to joke a little with Harrison now. Harrison hadn't been sure at first that the man was able to joke. "Is this going to affect our field trials, colonel?"
"I don't see that it should."
"What field trials? If I may ask?" Harrison had a sinking feeling. Being a guinea pig for Dixon was a given, considering the operation. He didn't want to be the one to try out experimental technology, though. He still didn't trust the bionic ear they'd given him. He couldn't be sure it wasn't bugged.
"Dr. Dixon has been busy gleaning information from those hard drives you brought back for him. How about I let him tell about what he's found?" Colonel Jackson sat down.
"Well...," Dixon said as he stood. "We've pulled terabytes of data off those drives. The most interesting thing, in some ways, was a history of their own projects and what led them to the portal device. Apparently, their universe was very similar to ours right up until the point where the original project, Wormwood, was scrapped. They didn't cancel the project like we did, and the first time they used it, they opened Pandora's Box." He paused to take a sip of water. "They opened a door to a very nasty place and were immediately immersed in a desperate war. Their universe has now been invaded several times by other powers. They currently seem to be acting as a sort of buffer between us and those powers. They had to resort to using biological and nuclear weapons on their own soil to slow the enemy advances. The portal device shouldn't be able to tune to a universe as close as ours. It seems that a serendipitous fault in the first device and a quirk in the membrane between us led to them being able to make such small hops."
"I'm not sure if I understand," Harrison interrupted. "What do you mean by close to ours?"
"As you found out when you traveled to their universe, they are very similar to us. There may well be other universes between us and them, but the device can only tune to major harmonic lines in the quantum froth between the universes. Each brane has its own harmonic frequency; we can use that to tune the device to travel to a particular universe."
"I think you lost me again."
"Don't worry about it. The bottom line is that we can use the device to go to any place we can tune for. If we could tune finer, we could go to the places between us and the enemy. Which leads me to my next topic. If you don't mind, colonel?"
At a nod from the colonel, one of the other scientists dimmed the lights and activated the overhead projector. A strange-looking device was displayed, along with schematics.
"We came across these in the files. When we first discovered it, we thought it might be some kind of remote for the portal device. We now know differently. It's actually a portable portal device. The science is completely different for this one. We think it was the device Faction Three used to breach the other universe."
"I'm sorry," Harrison interrupted. "Faction Three?"
"The cyborg invaders."
Harrison had no idea what the scientist was talking about.
"You haven't read the debriefs, have you?"
"The two-foot stack of hard copy on my desk that I didn't know about till this morning? No, sorry, Dr. Dixon. Guess I've been slacking."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dr. Dixon looked uncomfortable and shuffled his papers. Harrison didn't dislike the man. He knew Dixon was enthusiastic for the project, and they needed people like him. He just didn't like what he was hearing, and Dixon was a good target.
"You'll need to get on that, major," Colonel Jackson said, smiling. "We have designated the original invaders as Faction One. Faction Two is mentioned only as someone Faction One encountered when first testing the portal device. We don't know a lot about them except that they were armed and ready to respond to invaders. Faction Three are cyborgs, part man and part machine. They've been ra
iding Faction One, and likely Faction Two, as well. Faction Four is some kind of insect, apparently. Make reading those debriefs a priority."
"Yes, sir."
"Now, Dr. Dixon, have you made any progress on building a prototype?"
"I'm afraid not, colonel. The science is far beyond our own. If we could get ahold of one of the devices, then I feel that we would be able to make some progress. I think it would be far superior to the portal device. I think you would like that, as it would give you the control to return to base on your own timetable."
"If this thing is so great," Harrison asked, "why weren't the other guys, Faction One, using it?"
"We're not really sure, major. It may have been that they didn't have time, or it may have been that they didn't have the resources to expend on something like this. They had a device that worked well enough. They are badly strapped for resources, as you know. No reason for them to start using this device when they already had the other. Their technology is also behind ours, so they may not have the science for it."
"They had enough science to build the portal device."
"Maybe," said Dixon. "Or they may have taken it from one of the other invaders. The histories aren't really all that clear."
Harrison suddenly wondered about their own history with the project. Had the original Wormwood device been stolen technology? He didn't like how well that added up.
"Are we at risk from these other factions?"
"That is the million-dollar question, major. So far, we've been attacked only by Faction One, but that could change, especially if Faction One draws attention to us."
"So we need to stop them from drawing attention to us. Isn't their device destroyed?"
"They had another one. Why they haven't used it to attack us again is anybody's guess."
Project Brimstone Page 8
